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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10835-0.txt b/10835-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ccf2eab --- /dev/null +++ b/10835-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18150 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10835 *** + +DR. JOHNSON'S WORKS. + +LIFE, POEMS, AND TALES. + +THE + +WORKS + +OF + +SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + +IN NINE VOLUMES. + +VOLUME THE FIRST. + +MDCCCXXV + + +ADVERTISEMENT. + +It may be asserted, without a partial panegyric of the object of our +praise, that the works of no single author in the wide range of British +literature, not excepting, perhaps, even Addison, contain a richer and +more varied fund of rational entertainment and sound instruction than +those of Dr. Johnson. A correct edition of his works must, therefore, be +an acceptable contribution to the mass of national literature. That the +present edition has, perhaps, fairer claims on public approbation than +most preceding ones, we feel ourselves justified in asserting, without +envious detraction of those who have gone before us. It has been our +wish and diligent endeavour to give as accurate a text as possible, to +which we have subjoined notes, where elucidation seemed to be required. +They have been collected with care, and will prove our impartiality by +their occasional censures of the faults and failings of the writer whose +works it is our office to illustrate, and our more common and more +grateful task to praise. Though, being diffused over a wide space, they +appear less numerous than they really are, it has been our incessant +care to abstain from that method of redundant annotation, which tends to +display the ingenuity or mental resources of an editor, much more than +to illustrate the original writer. Notes have been chiefly introduced +for the purpose of guarding our readers against some political sophisms, +or to correct some hasty error. But happily, in the writings to which we +have devoted our time and attention, the chaff and dross lie so open to +view, and are so easily separated from purer matter, that a hint is +sufficient to protect the most incautious from harm. Accordingly, in our +notes and prefaces we have confined ourselves to simple and succinct +histories of the respective works under consideration, and have avoided, +as much as might be, a burdensome repetition of criticisms or anecdotes, +in almost every person's possession, or an idle pointing out of beauties +which none could fail to recognise. The length of time that has elapsed +since the writings of Johnson were first published, has amply developed +their intrinsic merits, and destroyed the personal and party prejudices +which assail a living author: but the years have been too few to render +the customs and manners alluded to so obsolete as to require much +illustrative research.[a] It may be satisfactory to subjoin, that care +has been exercised in every thing that we have advanced, and that when +we have erred, it has been on the side of caution. + +All the usually received works of Dr. Johnson, together with Murphy's +Essay on his Life and Genius, are comprised in this edition. In +pursuance of our plan of brevity, we shall not here give a list of his +minor and unacknowledged productions, but refer our readers to Boswell; +a new, amended, and enlarged edition of whose interesting and +picturesque Memoirs we purpose speedily to present to the public, after +the style and manner of the present work. + +One very important addition, however, we conceive that we have made, in +publishing the whole of his sermons. It has been hitherto the practice +to give one or two, with a cursory notice, that Johnson's theological +knowledge was scanty, or unworthy of his general fame. We have acted +under a very different impression; for though Johnson was not, nor +pretended to be, a polemical or controversial divine, he well knew how +to apply to the right regulation of our moral conduct the lessons of +that Christianity which was not promulged for a sect, but for mankind; +which sought not a distinctive garb in the philosopher's grove, nor +secluded itself in the hermit's cell, but entered without reserve every +walk of life, and sympathized with all the instinctive feelings of our +common nature. This high privilege of our religion Johnson felt, and to +the diffusion of its practical, not of its theoretical advantages, he +applied the energies of his heart and mind; and with what success, we +leave to every candid reader to pronounce. + +In conclusion, we would express a hope that we shall not inaptly +commence a series of OXFORD ENGLISH CLASSICS with the works of one whose +writings have so enlarged and embellished the science of moral evidence, +which has long constituted a characteristic feature in the literary +discipline of this university. The science of mind and its progress, as +recorded by history, or unfolded by biography, was Johnson's favourite +study, and is still the main object of pursuit in the place whose system +and institutions he so warmly praised, and to which he ever professed +himself so deeply indebted. If the terseness of attic simplicity has +been desiderated by some in the pages of Johnson, they undeniably +display the depth of thought, the weight of argument, the insight into +mind and morals, which are to be found in their native dignity only in +the compositions of those older writers with whose spirit he was so +richly imbued. In this place, then, where those models which Johnson +admired and imitated are still upheld as the only sure guides to sound +learning, his writings can never be laid aside unread and neglected. + +OXFORD, JUNE 23, 1825. + +[a] See a remark on this subject made by Johnson, with reference to the +Spectator, and all other works of the same class, which describe +manners. Boswell, ii. 218, and Prefatory Notice to Rambler, vol. i. + + + + +CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. + +ESSAY on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson + +POEMS. + +London + +The Vanity of Human Wishes + +Prologue, spoken by Mr. Garrick, at the opening of the theatre-royal, +Drury lane + +Prefatory Notice to the tragedy of Irene + +Prologue + +Irene + +Epilogue, by sir William Yonge + +Prologue to the masque of Comus + +Prologue to the comedy of the Good-natured Man + +Prologue to the comedy of a Word to the Wise + +Spring + +Midsummer + +Autumn + +Winter + +The Winter's Walk + +To Miss ****, on her giving the author a gold and silk network purse, of +her own weaving + +To Miss ****, on her playing upon the harpsichord, in a room hung with +flower-pieces of her own painting + +Evening; an ode + +To the same + +To a friend + +Stella in mourning + +To Stella + +Verses, written at the request of a gentleman, to whom a lady had given +a sprig of myrtle + +To lady Firebrace, at Bury assizes + +To Lyce, an elderly lady + +On the death of Mr. Robert Levet + +Epitaph on Claude Phillips + +Epitaphium in Thomam Hanmer, baronettum + +Paraphrase of the above, by Dr. Johnson + +To Miss Hickman, playing on the spinet + +Paraphrase of Proverbs, chap. vi. verses 6-11 + +Horace, lib. iv. ode vii. translated + +Anacreon, ode ix + +Lines written in ridicule of certain poems published in 1777 + +Parody of a translation from the Medea of Euripides + +Translation from the Medea of Euripides + +Translation of the two first stanzas of the song "Rio Verde, Rio Verde" + +Imitation of the style of **** + +Burlesque of some lines of Lopez de Vega + +Translation of some lines at the end of Baretti's Easy Phraseology + +Improviso translation of a distich on the duke of Modena's running away +from the comet in 1742 or 1743 + +Improviso translation of some lines of M. Benserade à son Lit + +Epitaph for Mr. Hogarth + +Translation of some lines, written under a print representing persons +skating + +Impromptu translation of the same + +To Mrs. Thrale, on her completing her thirty-fifth year + +Impromptu translation of an air in the Clemenza di Tito of Metastasio + +Translation of a speech of Aquileio in the Adriano of Metastasio + +Burlesque of the modern versifications of ancient legendary tales + +Friendship; an ode + +On seeing a bust of Mrs. Montague + +Improviso on a young heir's coming of age + +Epitaphs--on his father + + --his wife + + --Mrs. Bell + + --Mrs. Salusbury + + --Dr. Goldsmith + + --Mr. Thrale + +POEMATA + +Prefatory observations to the history of Rasselas + +Rasselas, prince of Abissinia + +LETTERS. + +I. To Mr. James Elphinston + +II. to XL. To Mrs. Thrale + +XLI. To Mr. Thrale + +XLII. to LIII. To Mrs. Thrale + +LIV. To Mrs. Piozzi + + + + +AN ESSAY +ON +THE LIFE AND GENIUS +OF +SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + +When the works of a great writer, who has bequeathed to posterity a +lasting legacy, are presented to the world, it is naturally expected +that some account of his life should accompany the edition. The reader +wishes to know as much as possible of the author. The circumstances that +attended him, the features of his private character, his conversation, +and the means by which he arose to eminence, become the favourite +objects of inquiry. Curiosity is excited; and the admirer of his works +is eager to know his private opinions, his course of study, the +particularities of his conduct, and, above all, whether he pursued the +wisdom which he recommends, and practised the virtue which his writings +inspire. A principle of gratitude is awakened in every generous mind. +For the entertainment and instruction which genius and diligence have +provided for the world, men of refined and sensible tempers are ready to +pay their tribute of praise, and even to form a posthumous friendship +with the author. + +In reviewing the life of such a writer, there is, besides, a rule of +justice to which the public have an undoubted claim. Fond admiration and +partial friendship should not be suffered to represent his virtues with +exaggeration; nor should malignity be allowed, under a specious +disguise, to magnify mere defects, the usual failings of human nature, +into vice or gross deformity. The lights and shades of the character +should be given; and if this be done with a strict regard to truth, a +just estimate of Dr. Johnson will afford a lesson, perhaps, as valuable +as the moral doctrine that speaks with energy in every page of his +works. + +The present writer enjoyed the conversation and friendship of that +excellent man more than thirty years. He thought it an honour to be so +connected, and to this hour he reflects on his loss with regret; but +regret, he knows, has secret bribes, by which the judgment may be +influenced, and partial affection may be carried beyond the bounds of +truth. In the present case, however, nothing needs to be disguised, and +exaggerated praise is unnecessary. It is an observation of the younger +Pliny, in his epistle to his friend Tacitus, that history ought never to +magnify matters of fact, because worthy actions require nothing but the +truth: "nam nec historia debet egredi veritatem, et honeste factis +veritas sufficit." This rule, the present biographer promises, shall +guide his pen throughout the following narrative. + +It may be said, the death of Dr. Johnson kept the public mind in +agitation beyond all former example. No literary character ever excited +so much attention; and, when the press has teemed with anecdotes, +apophthegms, essays, and publications of every kind, what occasion now +for a new tract on the same thread-bare subject? The plain truth shall +be the answer. The proprietors of Johnson's works thought the life, +which they prefixed to their former edition, too unwieldy for +republication. The prodigious variety of foreign matter, introduced into +that performance, seemed to overload the memory of Dr. Johnson, and, in +the account of his own life, to leave him hardly visible. They wished to +have a more concise, and, for that reason, perhaps, a more satisfactory +account, such as may exhibit a just picture of the man, and keep him the +principal figure in the foreground of his own picture. To comply with +that request is the design of this essay, which the writer undertakes +with a trembling hand. He has no discoveries, no secret anecdotes, no +occasional controversy, no sudden flashes of wit and humour, no private +conversation, and no new facts, to embellish his work. Every thing has +been gleaned. Dr. Johnson said of himself, "I am not uncandid, nor +severe: I sometimes say more than I mean, in jest, and people are apt to +think me serious[a]." The exercise of that privilege, which is enjoyed +by every man in society, has not been allowed to him. His fame has given +importance even to trifles; and the zeal of his friends has brought +every thing to light. What should be related, and what should not, has +been published without distinction: "dicenda tacenda locuti!" Every +thing that fell from him has been caught with eagerness by his admirers, +who, as he says in one of his letters, have acted with the diligence of +spies upon his conduct. To some of them the following lines, in Mallet's +poem on verbal criticism, are not inapplicable: + + "Such that grave bird in northern seas is found. + Whose name a Dutchman only knows to sound; + Where'er the king of fish moves on before, + This humble friend attends from shore to shore; + With eye still earnest, and with bill inclined, + He picks up what his patron drops behind, + With those choice cates his palate to regale, + And is the careful Tibbald of a whale." + +After so many essays and volumes of Johnsoniana, what remains for the +present writer? Perhaps, what has not been attempted; a short, yet full, +a faithful, yet temperate, history of Dr. Johnson. + +SAMUEL JOHNSON was born at Lichfield, September 7, 1709, O. S[b]. His +father, Michael Johnson, was a bookseller in that city; a man of large, +athletic make, and violent passions; wrong-headed, positive, and, at +times, afflicted with a degree of melancholy, little short of madness. +His mother was sister to Dr. Ford, a practising physician, and father of +Cornelius Ford, generally known by the name of parson Ford, the same who +is represented near the punch-bowl in Hogarth's Midnight Modern +Conversation. In the life of Fenton, Johnson says, that "his abilities, +instead of furnishing convivial merriment to the voluptuous and +dissolute, might have enabled him to excel among the virtuous and the +wise." Being chaplain to the earl of Chesterfield, he wished to attend +that nobleman on his embassy to the Hague. Colley Cibber has recorded +the anecdote. "You should go," said the witty peer, "if to your many +vices you would add one more." "Pray, my lord, what is that?" +"Hypocrisy, my dear doctor." Johnson had a younger brother named +Nathaniel, who died at the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Michael +Johnson, the father, was chosen, in the year 1718, under bailiff of +Lichfield; and, in the year 1725, he served the office of the senior +bailiff. He had a brother of the name of Andrew, who, for some years, +kept the ring at Smithfield, appropriated to wrestlers and boxers. Our +author used to say, that he was never thrown or conquered. Michael, the +father, died December 1731, at the age of seventy-six: his mother at +eighty-nine, of a gradual decay, in the year 1759. Of the family nothing +more can be related worthy of notice. Johnson did not delight in talking +of his relations. "There is little pleasure," he said to Mrs. Piozzi, +"in relating the anecdotes of beggary." + +Johnson derived from his parents, or from an unwholesome nurse, the +distemper called the king's evil. The Jacobites at that time believed in +the efficacy of the royal touch, and, accordingly, Mrs. Johnson +presented her son, when two years old, before queen Anne, who, for the +first time, performed that office, and communicated to her young patient +all the healing virtue in her power[c]. He was afterwards cut for that +scrophulous humour, and the under part of his face was seamed and +disfigured by the operation. It is supposed, that this disease deprived +him of the sight of his left eye, and also impaired his hearing. At +eight years old, he was placed under Mr. Hawkins, at the free school in +Lichfield, where he was not remarkable for diligence or regular +application. Whatever he read, his tenacious memory made his own. In the +fields, with his schoolfellows, he talked more to himself than with his +companions. In 1725, when he was about sixteen years old, he went on a +visit to his cousin Cornelius Ford, who detained him for some months, +and, in the mean time, assisted him in the classics. The general +direction for his studies, which he then received, he related to Mrs. +Piozzi. "Obtain," says Ford, "some general principles of every science: +he who can talk only on one subject, or act only in one department, is +seldom wanted, and, perhaps, never wished for; while the man of general +knowledge can often benefit, and always please." This advice Johnson +seems to have pursued with a good inclination. His reading was always +desultory, seldom resting on any particular author, but rambling from +one book to another, and, by hasty snatches, hoarding up a variety of +knowledge. It may be proper, in this place, to mention another general +rule laid down by Ford for Johnson's future conduct: "You will make your +way the more easily in the world, as you are contented to dispute no +man's claim to conversation excellence: they will, therefore, more +willingly allow your pretensions as a writer." "But," says Mrs. Piozzi, +"the features of peculiarity, which mark a character to all succeeding +generations, are slow in coming to their growth." That ingenious lady +adds, with her usual vivacity, "Can one, on such an occasion, forbear +recollecting the predictions of Boileau's father, who said, stroking the +head of the young satirist, 'This little man has too much wit, but he +will never speak ill of any one.'" + +On Johnson's return from Cornelius Ford, Mr. Hunter, then master of the +free school at Lichfield, refused to receive him again on that +foundation. At this distance of time, what his reasons were, it is vain +to inquire; but to refuse assistance to a lad of promising genius must +be pronounced harsh and illiberal. It did not, however, stop the +progress of the young student's education. He was placed at another +school, at Stourbridge in Worcestershire, under the care of Mr. +Wentworth. Having gone through the rudiments of classic literature, he +returned to his father's house, and was probably intended for the trade +of a bookseller. He has been heard to say that he could bind a book. At +the end of two years, being then about nineteen, he went to assist the +studies of a young gentleman, of the name of Corbet, to the university +of Oxford; and on the 31st of October, 1728, both were entered of +Pembroke college; Corbet as a gentleman-commoner, and Johnson as a +commoner. The college tutor, Mr. Jordan, was a man of no genius; and +Johnson, it seems, shewed an early contempt of mean abilities, in one or +two instances behaving with insolence to that gentleman. Of his general +conduct at the university there are no particulars that merit attention, +except the translation of Pope's Messiah, which was a college exercise +imposed upon him as a task by Mr. Jordan. Corbet left the university in +about two years, and Johnson's salary ceased. He was, by consequence, +straitened in his circumstances; but he still remained at college. Mr. +Jordan, the tutor, went off to a living; and was succeeded by Dr. Adams, +who afterwards became head of the college, and was esteemed through life +for his learning, his talents, and his amiable character. Johnson grew +more regular in his attendance. Ethics, theology, and classic +literature, were his favourite studies. He discovered, notwithstanding, +early symptoms of that wandering disposition of mind, which adhered to +him to the end of his life. His reading was by fits and starts, +undirected to any particular science. General philology, agreeably to +his cousin Ford's advice, was the object of his ambition. He received, +at that time, an early impression of piety, and a taste for the best +authors, ancient and modern. It may, notwithstanding, be questioned +whether, except his bible, he ever read a book entirely through. Late in +life, if any man praised a book in his presence, he was sure to ask, +"Did you read it through?" If the answer was in the affirmative, he did +not seem willing to believe it. He continued at the university, till the +want of pecuniary supplies obliged him to quit the place. He obtained, +however, the assistance of a friend, and, returning in a short time, was +able to complete a residence of three years. The history of his exploits +at Oxford, he used to say, was best known to Dr. Taylor and Dr. Adams. +Wonders are told of his memory, and, indeed, all who knew him late in +life can witness, that he retained that faculty in the greatest vigour. + +From the university, Johnson returned to Lichfield. His father died soon +after, December, 1731; and the whole receipt out of his effects, as +appeared by a memorandum in the son's handwriting, dated 15th of June, +1732, was no more than twenty pounds[d]. In this exigence, determined +that poverty should neither depress his spirits nor warp his integrity, +he became under-master of a grammar school at Market Bosworth, in +Leicestershire. That resource, however, did not last long. Disgusted by +the pride of sir Wolstan Dixie, the patron of that little seminary, he +left the place in discontent, and ever after spoke of it with +abhorrence. In 1733, he went on a visit to Mr. Hector, who had been his +schoolfellow, and was then a surgeon at Birmingham, lodging at the house +of Warren, a bookseller. At that place Johnson translated a Voyage to +Abyssinia, written by Jerome Lobo, a Portuguese missionary. This was the +first literary work from the pen of Dr. Johnson. His friend, Hector, was +occasionally his amanuensis. The work was, probably, undertaken at the +desire of Warren, the bookseller, and was printed at Birmingham; but it +appears, in the Literary Magazine, or history of the works of the +learned, for March, 1735, that it was published by Bettesworth and +Hitch, Paternoster row. It contains a narrative of the endeavours of a +company of missionaries to convert the people of Abyssinia to the church +of Rome. In the preface to this work, Johnson observes, "that the +Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general view of his countrymen, +has amused his readers with no romantick absurdities, or incredible +fictions. He appears, by his modest and unaffected narration, to have +described things, as he saw them; to have copied nature from the life; +and to have consulted his senses, not his imagination. He meets with no +basilisks, that destroy with their eyes; his crocodiles devour their +prey, without tears; and his cataracts fall from the rock, without +deafening the neighbouring inhabitants. The reader will here find no +regions cursed with irremediable barrenness, or blessed with spontaneous +fecundity; no perpetual gloom, or unceasing sunshine; nor are the +nations, here described, either void of all sense of humanity, or +consummate in all private and social virtues; here are no Hottentots +without religion, polity or articulate language; no Chinese perfectly +polite, and completely skilled in all sciences; he will discover, what +will always be discovered by a diligent and impartial inquirer, that, +wherever human nature is to be found, there is a mixture of vice and +virtue, a contest of passion and reason; and that the Creator doth not +appear partial in his distributions, but has balanced, in most +countries, their particular inconveniencies, by particular favours."--We +have here an early specimen of Johnson's manner; the vein of thinking, +and the frame of the sentences, are manifestly his: we see the infant +Hercules. The translation of Lobo's narrative has been reprinted lately +in a separate volume, with some other tracts of Dr. Johnson's, and, +therefore, forms no part of this edition; but a compendious account of +so interesting a work, as father Lobo's discovery of the head of the +Nile, will not, it is imagined, be unacceptable to the reader. + +"Father Lobo, the Portuguese missionary, embarked, in 1622, in the same +fleet with the count Vidigueira, who was appointed, by the king of +Portugal, viceroy of the Indies. They arrived at Goa; and, in January +1624, father Lobo set out on the mission to Abyssinia. Two of the +Jesuits, sent on the same commission, were murdered in their attempt to +penetrate into that empire. Lobo had better success; he surmounted all +difficulties, and made his way into the heart of the country. Then +follows a description of Abyssinia, formerly the largest empire of which +we have an account in history. It extended from the Red sea to the +kingdom of Congo, and from Egypt to the Indian sea, containing no less +than forty provinces. At the time of Lobo's mission, it was not much +larger than Spain, consisting then but of five kingdoms, of which part +was entirely subject to the emperour, and part paid him a tribute, as an +acknowledgment. The provinces were inhabited by Moors, Pagans, Jews, and +Christians. The last was, in Lobo's time, the established and reigning +religion. The diversity of people and religion is the reason why the +kingdom was under different forms of government, with laws and customs +extremely various. Some of the people neither sowed their lands, nor +improved them by any kind of culture, living upon milk and flesh, and, +like the Arabs, encamping without any settled habitation. In some places +they practised no rites of worship, though they believed that, in the +regions above, there dwells a being that governs the world. This deity +they call, in their language, Oul. The christianity, professed by the +people in some parts, is so corrupted with superstitions, errours, and +heresies, and so mingled with ceremonies borrowed from the Jews, that +little, besides the name of christianity, is to be found among them. The +Abyssins cannot properly be said to have either cities or houses; they +live in tents or cottages made of straw or clay, very rarely building +with stone. Their villages, or towns, consist of these huts; yet even of +such villages they have but few, because the grandees, the viceroys, and +the emperour himself, are always in camp, that they may be prepared, +upon the most sudden alarm, to meet every emergence in a country, which +is engaged, every year, either in foreign wars or intestine commotions. +Aethiopia produces very near the same kinds of provision as Portugal, +though, by the extreme laziness of the inhabitants, in a much less +quantity. What the ancients imagined of the torrid zone being a part of +the world uninhabitable, is so far from being true, that the climate is +very temperate. The blacks have better features than in other countries, +and are not without wit and ingenuity. Their apprehension is quick, and +their judgment sound. There are, in this climate, two harvests in the +year; one in winter, which lasts through the months of July, August, and +September; the other in the spring. They have, in the greatest plenty, +raisins peaches pomegranates, sugar-canes, and some figs. Most of these +are ripe about lent, which the Abyssins keep with great strictness. The +animals of the country are the lion, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the +unicorn, horses, mules, oxen, and cows without number. They have a very +particular custom, which obliges every man, that has a thousand cows, to +save every year one day's milk of all his herd, and make a bath with it +for his relations. This they do so many days in each year, as they have +thousands of cattle; so that, to express how rich a man is, they tell +you, 'he bathes so many times.' + +"Of the river Nile, which has furnished so much controversy, we have a +full and clear description. It is called, by the natives, Abavi, the +Father of Water. It rises in Sacala, a province of the kingdom of +Goiama, the most fertile and agreeable part of the Abyssinian dominions. +On the eastern side of the country, on the declivity of a mountain, +whose descent is so easy, that it seems a beautiful plain, is that +source of the Nile, which has been sought after, at so much expense and +labour. This spring, or rather these two springs, are two holes, each +about two feet diameter, a stone's cast distant from each other. One of +them is about five feet and a half in depth. Lobo was not able to sink +his plummet lower, perhaps, because it was stopped by roots, the whole +place being full of trees. A line of ten feet did not reach the bottom +of the other. These springs are supposed, by the Abyssins, to be the +vents of a great subterraneous lake. At a small distance to the south, +is a village called Guix, through which you ascend to the top of the +mountain, where there is a little hill, which the idolatrous Agaci hold +in great veneration. Their priest calls them together to this place once +a year; and every one sacrifices a cow, or more, according to the +different degrees of wealth and devotion. Hence we have sufficient +proof, that these nations always paid adoration to the deity of this +famous river. + +"As to the course of the Nile, its waters, after their first rise, run +towards the east, about the length of a musket-shot; then, turning +northward, continue hidden in the grass and weeds for about a quarter of +a league, when they reappear amongst a quantity of rocks. The Nile, from +its source, proceeds with so inconsiderable a current that it is in +danger of being dried up by the hot season; but soon receiving an +increase from the Gemma, the Keltu, the Bransa, and the other smaller +rivers, it expands to such a breadth in the plains of Boad, which is not +above three days' journey from its source, that a musket-ball will +scarcely fly from one bank to the other. Here it begins to run +northward, winding, however, a little to the east, for the space of nine +or ten leagues, and then enters the so-much-talked-of lake of Dambia, +flowing with such violent rapidity, that its waters may be distinguished +through the whole passage, which is no less than six leagues. Here +begins the greatness of the Nile. Fifteen miles farther, in the land of +Alata, it rushes precipitately from the top of a high rock, and forms +one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the world. Lobo says, he passed +under it without being wet, and resting himself, for the sake of the +coolness, was charmed with a thousand delightful rainbows, which the +sunbeams painted on the water, in all their shining and lively +colours[e]. The fall of this mighty stream, from so great a height, +makes a noise that may be heard at a considerable distance: but it was +not found, that the neighbouring inhabitants were deaf. After the +cataract, the Nile collects its scattered stream among the rocks, which +are so near each other, that, in Lobo's time, a bridge of beams, on +which the whole imperial army passed, was laid over them. Sultan Sequed +has since built a stone bridge of one arch, in the same place, for which +purpose he procured masons from India. Here the river alters its course, +and passes through various kingdoms, such as Amhara, Olaca, Choaa, +Damot, and the kingdom of Goiama, and, after various windings, returns +within a short day's journey of its spring. To pursue it through all its +mazes, and accompany it round the kingdom of Goiama, is a journey of +twenty-nine days. From Abyssinia, the river passes into the countries of +Fazulo and Ombarca, two vast regions little known, inhabited by nations +entirely different from the Abyssins. Their hair, like that of the other +blacks in those regions, is short and curled. In the year 1615, Rassela +Christos, lieutenant-general to sultan Sequed, entered those kingdoms in +a hostile manner; but, not being able to get intelligence, returned +without attempting any thing. As the empire of Abyssinia terminates at +these descents, Lobo followed the course of the Nile no farther, leaving +it to rage over barbarous kingdoms, and convey wealth and plenty into +Aegypt, which owes to the annual inundations of this river its envied +fertility[f]. Lobo knows nothing of the Nile in the rest of its passage, +except that it receives great increase from many other rivers, has +several cataracts like that already described, and that few fish are to +be found in it: that scarcity is to be attributed to the river-horse, +and the crocodile, which destroy the weaker inhabitants of the river. +Something, likewise, must be imputed to the cataracts, where fish cannot +fall without being killed. Lobo adds, that neither he, nor any with whom +he conversed about the crocodile, ever saw him weep; and, therefore, all +that hath been said about his tears, must be ranked among the fables, +invented for the amusement of children. + +"As to the causes of the inundations of the Nile, Lobo observes, that +many an idle hypothesis has been framed. Some theorists ascribe it to +the high winds, that stop the current, and force the water above its +banks. Others pretend a subterraneous communication between the ocean +and the Nile, and that the sea, when violently agitated, swells the +river. Many are of opinion, that this mighty flood proceeds from the +melting of the snow on the mountains of Aethiopia; but so much snow and +such prodigious heat are never met with in the same region. Lobo never +saw snow in Abyssinia, except on mount Semen, in the kingdom of Tigre, +very remote from the Nile; and on Namara, which is, indeed, nor far +distant, but where there never falls snow enough to wet, when dissolved, +the foot of the mountain. To the immense labours of the Portuguese +mankind is indebted for the knowledge of the real cause of these +inundations, so great and so regular. By them we are informed, that +Abyssinia, where the Nile rises, is full of mountains, and, in its +natural situation, is much higher than Aegypt; that in the winter, from +June to September, no day is without rain; that the Nile receives in its +course, all the rivers, brooks, and torrents, that fall from those +mountains, and, by necessary consequence, swelling above its banks, +fills the plains of Aegypt with inundations, which come regularly about +the month of July, or three weeks after the beginning of the rainy +season in Aethiopia. The different degrees of this flood are such +certain indications of the fruitfulness or sterility of the ensuing +year, that it is publickly proclaimed at Cairo how much the water hath +gained during the night." + +Such is the account of the Nile and its inundations, which, it is hoped, +will not be deemed an improper or tedious digression, especially as the +whole is an extract from Johnson's translation. He is, all the time, the +actor in the scene, and, in his own words, relates the story. Having +finished this work, he returned in February, 1734, to his native city; +and, in the month of August following, published proposals for printing, +by subscription, the Latin poems of Politian, with the history of Latin +poetry, from the aera of Petrarch to the time of Politian; and also the +life of Politian, to be added by the editor, Samuel Johnson. The book to +be printed in thirty octavo sheets, price five shillings. It is to be +regretted that this project failed for want of encouragement. Johnson, +it seems, differed from Boileau, Voltaire, and D'Alembert, who had taken +upon them to proscribe all modern efforts to write with elegance in a +dead language. For a decision pronounced in so high a tone, no good +reason can be assigned. The interests of learning require, that the +diction of Greece and Rome should be cultivated with care; and he who +can write a language with correctness, will be most likely to understand +its idiom, its grammar, and its peculiar graces of style. What man of +taste would willingly forego the pleasure of reading Vida, Fracastorius, +Sannazaro, Strada, and others, down to the late elegant productions of +bishop Lowth? The history which Johnson proposed to himself would, +beyond all question, have been a valuable addition to the history of +letters; but his project failed. His next expedient was to offer his +assistance to Cave, the original projector of the Gentleman's Magazine. +For this purpose he sent his proposals in a letter, offering, on +reasonable terms, occasionally to fill some pages with poems and +inscriptions, never printed before; with fugitive pieces that deserved +to be revived, and critical remarks on authors, ancient and modern. Cave +agreed to retain him as a correspondent and contributor to the magazine. +What the conditions were cannot now be known; but, certainly, they were +not sufficient to hinder Johnson from casting his eyes about him in +quest of other employment. Accordingly, in 1735, he made overtures to +the reverend Mr. Budworth, master of a grammar school at Brerewood, in +Staffordshire, to become his assistant. This proposition did not +succeed. Mr. Budworth apprehended, that the involuntary motions, to +which Johnson's nerves were subject, might make him an object of +ridicule with his scholars, and, by consequence, lessen their respect +for their master. Another mode of advancing himself presented itself +about this time. Mrs. Porter, the widow of a mercer in Birmingham, +admired his talents. It is said, that she had about eight hundred +pounds; and that sum, to a person in Johnson's circumstances, was an +affluent fortune. A marriage took place; and, to turn his wife's money +to the best advantage, he projected the scheme of an academy for +education. Gilbert Walmsley, at that time, registrar of the +ecclesiastical court of the bishop of Lichfield, was distinguished by +his erudition, and the politeness of his manners. He was the friend of +Johnson, and, by his weight and influence, endeavoured to promote his +interest. The celebrated Garrick, whose father, captain Garrick, lived +at Lichfield, was placed in the new seminary of education by that +gentleman's advice.--Garrick was then about eighteen years old. An +accession of seven or eight pupils was the most that could be obtained, +though notice was given by a public advertisement[g], that at Edial, +near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young gentlemen are boarded and taught +the Latin and Greek languages, by Samuel Johnson. + +The undertaking proved abortive. Johnson, having now abandoned all hopes +of promoting his fortune in the country, determined to become an +adventurer in the world at large. His young pupil, Garrick, had formed +the same resolution; and, accordingly, in March, 1737, they arrived in +London together. Two such candidates for fame, perhaps never, before +that day, entered the metropolis together. Their stock of money was soon +exhausted. In his visionary project of an academy, Johnson had probably +wasted his wife's substance; and Garrick's father had little more than +his half-pay.--The two fellow-travellers had the world before them, and +each was to choose his road to fortune and to fame. They brought with +them genius, and powers of mind, peculiarly formed by nature for the +different vocations to which each of them felt himself inclined. They +acted from the impulse of young minds, even then meditating great +things, and with courage anticipating success. Their friend, Mr. +Walmsley, by a letter to the reverend Mr. Colson, who, it seems, was a +great mathematician, exerted his good offices in their favour. He gave +notice of their intended journey: "Davy Garrick," he said, "will be with +you next week; and Johnson, to try his fate with a tragedy, and to get +himself employed in some translation, either from the Latin or French. +Johnson is a very good scholar and a poet, and, I have great hopes, will +turn out a fine tragedy-writer. If it should be in your way, I doubt not +but you will be ready to recommend and assist your countrymen." Of Mr. +Walmsley's merit, and the excellence of his character, Johnson has left +a beautiful testimonial at the end of the life of Edmund Smith. It is +reasonable to conclude, that a mathematician, absorbed in abstract +speculations, was not able to find a sphere of action for two men, who +were to be the architects of their own fortune. In three or four years +afterwards, Garrick came forth with talents that astonished the public. +He began his career at Goodman's fields, and there, "monstratus fatis +Vespasianus!" he chose a lucrative profession, and, consequently, soon +emerged from all his difficulties. Johnson was left to toil in the +humble walks of literature. A tragedy, as appears by Walmsley's letter, +was the whole of his stock. This, most probably, was Irene; but, if then +finished, it was doomed to wait for a more happy period. It was offered +to Fleetwood, and rejected. Johnson looked round him for employment. +Having, while he remained in the country, corresponded with Cave, under +a feigned name, he now thought it time to make himself known to a man, +whom he considered as a patron of literature. Cave had announced, by +public advertisement, a prize of fifty pounds for the best poem on life, +death, judgment, heaven, and hell; and this circumstance diffused an +idea of his liberality. Johnson became connected with him in business, +and in a close and intimate acquaintance. Of Cave's character it is +unnecessary to say any thing in this place, as Johnson was afterwards +the biographer of his first and most useful patron. To be engaged in the +translation of some important book was still the object which Johnson +had in view. For this purpose, he proposed to give the history of the +council of Trent, with copious notes, then lately added to a French +edition. Twelve sheets of this work were printed, for which Johnson +received forty-nine pounds, as appears by his receipt, in the +possession of Mr. Nichols, the compiler of that entertaining and useful +work, The Gentleman's Magazine. Johnson's translation was never +completed: a like design was offered to the public, under the patronage +of Dr. Zachary Pearce; and, by that contention, both attempts were +frustrated. Johnson had been commended by Pope, for the translation of +the Messiah into Latin verse; but he knew no approach to so eminent a +man. With one, however, who was connected with Pope, he became +acquainted at St. John's gate; and that person was no other than the +well-known Richard Savage, whose life was afterwards written by Johnson +with great elegance, and a depth of moral reflection. Savage was a man +of considerable talents. His address, his various accomplishments, and, +above all, the peculiarity of his misfortunes, recommended him to +Johnson's notice. They became united in the closest intimacy. Both had +great parts, and they were equally under the pressure of want. Sympathy +joined them in a league of friendship. Johnson has been often heard to +relate, that he and Savage walked round Grosvenor square till four in +the morning; in the course of their conversation reforming the world, +dethroning princes, establishing new forms of government, and giving +laws to the several states of Europe, till, fatigued at length with +their legislative office, they began to feel the want of refreshment, +but could not muster up more than four-pence-halfpenny. Savage, it is +true, had many vices; but vice could never strike its roots in a mind +like Johnson's, seasoned early with religion, and the principles of +moral rectitude. His first prayer was composed in the year 1738. He had +not, at that time, renounced the use of wine; and, no doubt, +occasionally enjoyed his friend and his bottle. The love of late hours, +which followed him through life, was, perhaps, originally contracted in +company with Savage. However that may be, their connexion was not of +long duration. In the year 1738, Savage was reduced to the last +distress. Mr. Pope, in a letter to him, expressed his concern for "the +miserable withdrawing of his pension after the death of the queen;" and +gave him hopes that, "in a short time, he should find himself supplied +with a competence, without any dependance on those little creatures, +whom we are pleased to call the great." The scheme proposed to him was, +that he should retire to Swansea in Wales, and receive an allowance of +fifty pounds a year, to be raised by subscription: Pope was to pay +twenty pounds. This plan, though finally established, took more than a +year before it was carried into execution. In the mean time, the +intended retreat of Savage called to Johnson's mind the third satire of +Juvenal, in which that poet takes leave of a friend, who was withdrawing +himself from all the vices of Rome. Struck with this idea, he wrote that +well-known poem, called London. The first lines manifestly point to +Savage. + + "Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel, + When injur'd Thales bids the town farewell; + Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend; + I praise the hermit, but regret the friend: + Resolv'd, at length, from vice and London far, + To breathe, in distant fields, a purer air; + And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore, + Give to St. David one true Briton more." + +Johnson, at that time, lodged at Greenwich. He there fixes the scene, +and takes leave of his friend; who, he says in his life, parted from him +with tears in his eyes. The poem, when finished, was offered to Cave. It +happened, however, that the late Mr. Dodsley was the purchaser, at the +price of ten guineas. It was published in 1738; and Pope, we are told, +said, "The author, whoever he is, will not be long concealed;" alluding +to the passage in Terence, "Ubi, ubi est, diu celari non potest." +Notwithstanding that prediction, it does not appear that, besides the +copy-money, any advantage accrued to the author of a poem, written with +the elegance and energy of Pope. Johnson, in August, 1738, went, with +all the fame of his poetry, to offer himself a candidate for the +mastership of the school at Appleby, in Leicestershire. The statutes of +the place required, that the person chosen should be a master of arts. +To remove this objection, the then lord Gower was induced to write to a +friend, in order to obtain for Johnson a master's degree in the +university of Dublin, by the recommendation of Dr. Swift. The letter was +printed in one of the magazines, and was as follows: + +SIR,--Mr. Samuel Johnson, author of London, a satire, and some other +poetical pieces, is a native of this county, and much respected by some +worthy gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who are trustees of a +charity-school, now vacant; the certain salary of which is sixty pounds +per year, of which they are desirous to make him master; but, +unfortunately, he is not capable of receiving their bounty, which would +make him happy for life, by not being a master of arts, which, by the +statutes of the school, the master of it must be. + +Now these gentlemen do me the honour to think, that I have interest +enough in you, to prevail upon you to write to dean Swift, to persuade +the university of Dublin to send a diploma to me, constituting this poor +man master of arts in their university. They highly extol the man's +learning and probity; and will not be persuaded, that the university +will make any difficulty of conferring such a favour upon a stranger, if +he is recommended by the dean. They say, he is not afraid of the +strictest examination, though he is of so long a journey; and yet he +will venture it, if the dean thinks it necessary, choosing rather to die +upon the road, than to be starved to death in translating for +booksellers, which has been his only subsistence for some time past. + +I fear there is more difficulty in this affair than these good-natured +gentlemen apprehend, especially as their election cannot be delayed +longer than the eleventh of next month. If you see this matter in the +same light that it appears to me, I hope you will burn this, and pardon +me for giving you so much trouble about an impracticable thing; but, if +you think there is a probability of obtaining the favour asked, I am +sure your humanity and propensity to relieve merit, in distress, will +incline you to serve the poor man, without my adding any more to the +trouble I have already given you, than assuring you, that I am, with +great truth, sir, + +Your faithful humble servant, + +Trentham, Aug. 1st. GOWER. + +This scheme miscarried. There is reason to think, that Swift declined to +meddle in the business; and, to that circumstance, Johnson's known +dislike of Swift has been often imputed. + +It is mortifying to pursue a man of merit through all his difficulties; +and yet this narrative must be, through many following years, the +history of genius and virtue struggling with adversity. Having lost the +school at Appleby, Johnson was thrown back on the metropolis. Bred to no +profession, without relations, friends, or interest, he was condemned to +drudgery in the service of Cave, his only patron. In November, 1738, was +published a translation of Crousaz's Examen of Pope's Essay on Man; +containing a succinct view of the system of the fatalists, and a +confutation of their opinions; with an illustration of the doctrine of +free will; and an enquiry, what view Mr. Pope might have in touching +upon the Leibnitzian philosophy, and fatalism: by Mr. Crousaz, professor +of philosophy and mathematics at Lausanne. This translation has been +generally thought a production of Johnson's pen; but it is now known, +that Mrs. Elizabeth Carter has acknowledged it to be one of her early +performances. It is certain, however, that Johnson was eager to promote +the publication. He considered the foreign philosopher as a man zealous +in the cause of religion; and with him he was willing to join against +the system of the fatalists, and the doctrine of Leibnitz. It is well +known, that Warburton wrote a vindication of Mr. Pope; but there is +reason to think, that Johnson conceived an early prejudice against the +Essay on Man; and what once took root in a mind like his, was not easily +eradicated. His letter to Cave on this subject is still extant, and may +well justify sir John Hawkins, who inferred that Johnson was the +translator of Crousaz. The conclusion of the letter is remarkable: "I am +yours, Impransus." If by that Latin word was meant, that he had not +dined, because he wanted the means, who can read it, even at this hour, +without an aching heart? + +With a mind naturally vigorous, and quickened by necessity, Johnson +formed a multiplicity of projects; but most of them proved abortive. A +number of small tracts issued from his pen with wonderful rapidity; such +as Marmor Norfolciense; or an essay on an ancient prophetical +inscription, in monkish rhyme, discovered at Lynn, in Norfolk. By Probus +Britannicus. This was a pamphlet against sir Robert Walpole. According +to sir John Hawkins, a warrant was issued to apprehend the author, who +retired, with his wife, to an obscure lodging near Lambeth marsh, and +there eluded the search of the messengers. But this story has no +foundation in truth. Johnson was never known to mention such an incident +in his life; and Mr. Steele, late of the treasury, caused diligent +search to be made at the proper offices, and no trace of such a +proceeding could be found. In the same year (1739) the lord chamberlain +prohibited the representation of a tragedy, called Gustavus Vasa, by +Henry Brooke. Under the mask of irony, Johnson published, A Vindication +of the Licenser from the malicious and scandalous Aspersions of Mr. +Brooke. Of these two pieces, sir John Hawkins says, "they have neither +learning nor wit; nor a single ray of that genius, which has since +blazed forth;" but, as they have been lately reprinted, the reader, who +wishes to gratify his curiosity, is referred to the fourteenth volume of +Johnson's works, published by Stockdale[h]. The lives of Boerhaave, +Blake, Barratier, father Paul, and others, were, about that time, +printed in the Gentleman's Magazine. The subscription of fifty pounds a +year for Savage was completed; and, in July 1739, Johnson parted with +the companion of his midnight hours, never to see him more. The +separation was, perhaps, an advantage to him, who wanted to make a right +use of his time, and even then beheld, with self-reproach, the waste +occasioned by dissipation. His abstinence from wine and strong liquors +began soon after the departure of Savage. What habits he contracted in +the course of that acquaintance cannot now be known. The ambition of +excelling in conversation, and that pride of victory, which, at times, +disgraced a man of Johnson's genius, were, perhaps, native blemishes. A +fierce spirit of independence, even in the midst of poverty, may be seen +in Savage; and, if not thence transfused by Johnson into his own +manners, it may, at least, be supposed to have gained strength from the +example before him. During that connexion, there was, if we believe sir +John Hawkins, a short separation between our author and his wife; but a +reconciliation soon took place. Johnson loved her, and showed his +affection in various modes of gallantry, which Garrick used to render +ridiculous by his mimicry. The affectation of soft and fashionable airs +did not become an unwieldy figure: his admiration was received by the +wife with the flutter of an antiquated coquette; and both, it is well +known, furnished matter for the lively genius of Garrick. + +It is a mortifying reflection, that Johnson, with a store of learning +and extraordinary talents, was not able, at the age of thirty, to force +his way to the favour of the public: + + "Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd." + +"He was still," as he says himself, "to provide for the day that was +passing over him." He saw Cave involved in a state of warfare with the +numerous competitors, at that time, struggling with the Gentleman's +Magazine; and gratitude for such supplies as Johnson received, dictated +a Latin ode on the subject of that contention. The first lines, + + "Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus, + Urbane, nullis victe calumniis," + +put one in mind of Casimir's ode to Pope Urban: + + "Urbane, regum maxime, maxime + Urbane vatum."-- + +The Polish poet was, probably, at that time, in the hands of a man, who +had meditated the history of the Latin poets. Guthrie, the historian, +had, from July, 1736, composed the parliamentary speeches for the +magazine; but, from the beginning of the session, which opened on the +19th of November, 1740, Johnson succeeded to that department, and +continued it from that time to the debate on spirituous liquors, which +happened in the house of lords, in February, 1742-3. The eloquence, the +force of argument, and the splendor of language, displayed in the +several speeches, are well known, and universally admired. That Johnson +was the author of the debates, during that period, was not generally +known; but the secret transpired several years afterwards, and was +avowed, by himself, on the following occasion. Mr. Wedderburne, now lord +Loughborough[i], Dr. Johnson, Dr. Francis, the translator of Horace, the +present writer, and others, dined with the late Mr. Foote. An important +debate, towards the end of sir Robert Walpole's administration, being +mentioned, Dr. Francis observed, "that Mr. Pitt's speech, on that +occasion, was the best he had ever read." He added, "that he had +employed eight years of his life in the study of Demosthenes, and +finished a translation of that celebrated orator, with all the +decorations of style and language within the reach of his capacity; but +he had met with nothing equal to the speech above mentioned." Many of +the company remembered the debate, and some passages were cited, with +the approbation and applause of all present. During the ardour of +conversation, Johnson remained silent. As soon as the warmth of praise +subsided, he opened with these words: "That speech I wrote in a garret +in Exeter street." The company was struck with astonishment. After +staring at each other in silent amaze, Dr. Francis asked, "how that +speech could be written by him?" "Sir," said Johnson, "I wrote it in +Exeter street. I never had been in the gallery of the house of commons +but once. Cave had interest with the door-keepers. He, and the persons +employed under him, gained admittance; they brought away the subject of +discussion, the names of the speakers, the side they took, and the order +in which they rose, together with notes of the arguments advanced in the +course of the debate. The whole was afterwards communicated to me, and I +composed the speeches in the form which they now have in the +parliamentary debates." To this discovery, Dr. Francis made answer: +"Then, sir, you have exceeded Demosthenes himself; for to say, that you +have exceeded Francis's Demosthenes, would be saying nothing." The rest +of the company bestowed lavish encomiums on Johnson: one, in particular, +praised his impartiality; observing, that he dealt out reason and +eloquence, with an equal hand to both parties. "That is not quite true," +said Johnson; "I saved appearances tolerably well; but I took care that +the WHIG DOGS should not have the best of it." The sale of the magazine +was greatly increased by the parliamentary debates, which were continued +by Johnson till the month of March, 1742-3. From that time the magazine +was conducted by Dr. Hawkesworth. + +In 1743-4, Osborne, the bookseller, who kept a shop in Gray's inn, +purchased the earl of Oxford's library, at the price of thirteen +thousand pounds. He projected a catalogue in five octavo volumes, at +five shillings each. Johnson was employed in that painful drudgery. He +was, likewise, to collect all such small tracts as were, in any degree, +worth preserving, in order to reprint and publish the whole in a +collection, called The Harleian Miscellany. The catalogue was completed; +and the miscellany, in 1749, was published in eight quarto volumes. In +this business Johnson was a day-labourer for immediate subsistence, not +unlike Gustavus Vasa, working in the mines of Dalecarlia. What Wilcox, a +bookseller of eminence in the Strand, said to Johnson, on his first +arrival in town, was now almost confirmed. He lent our author five +guineas, and then asked him, "How do you mean to earn your livelihood in +this town?" "By my literary labours," was the answer. Wilcox, staring at +him, shook his head: "By your literary labours! You had better buy a +porter's knot." Johnson used to tell this anecdote to Mr. Nichols: but +he said, "Wilcox was one of my best friends, and he meant well." In +fact, Johnson, while employed in Gray's inn, may be said to have carried +a porter's knot. He paused occasionally to peruse the book that came to +his hand. Osborne thought that such curiosity tended to nothing but +delay, and objected to it with all the pride and insolence of a man who +knew that he paid daily wages. In the dispute that of course ensued, +Osborne, with that roughness which was natural to him, enforced his +argument by giving the lie. Johnson seized a folio, and knocked the +bookseller down. This story has been related as an instance of Johnson's +ferocity; but merit cannot always take the spurns of the unworthy with a +patient spirit[k]. + +That the history of an author must be found in his works is, in general, +a true observation; and was never more apparent than in the present +narrative. Every aera of Johnson's life is fixed by his writings. In +1744, he published the life of Savage; and then projected a new edition +of Shakespeare. As a prelude to that design, he published, in 1745, +Miscellaneous Observations on the Tragedy of Macbeth, with remarks on +sir Thomas Hanmer's edition; to which were prefixed, Proposals for a new +Edition of Shakespeare, with a specimen. Of this pamphlet, Warburton, in +the preface to Shakespeare, has given his opinion: "As to all those +things, which have been published under the title of essays, remarks, +observations, &c. on Shakespeare, if you except some critical notes on +Macbeth, given as a specimen of a projected edition, and written, as +appears, by a man of parts and genius, the rest are absolutely below a +serious notice." But the attention of the public was not excited; there +was no friend to promote a subscription; and the project died to revive +at a future day. A new undertaking, however, was soon after proposed; +namely, an English dictionary upon an enlarged plan. Several of the most +opulent booksellers had meditated a work of this kind; and the agreement +was soon adjusted between the parties. Emboldened by this connexion, +Johnson thought of a better habitation than he had hitherto known. He +had lodged with his wife in courts and alleys about the Strand; but now, +for the purpose of carrying on his arduous undertaking, and to be nearer +his printer and friend, Mr. Strahan, he ventured to take a house in +Gough square, Fleet street. He was told, that the earl of Chesterfield +was a friend to his undertaking; and, in consequence of that +intelligence, he published, in 1747, The Plan of a Dictionary of the +English Language, addressed to the right honourable Philip Dormer, earl +of Chesterfield, one of his majesty's principal secretaries of state. +Mr. Whitehead, afterwards poet laureate, undertook to convey the +manuscript to his lordship: the consequence was an invitation from lord +Chesterfield to the author. A stronger contrast of characters could not +be brought together; the nobleman, celebrated for his wit, and all the +graces of polite behaviour; the author, conscious of his own merit, +towering in idea above all competition, versed in scholastic logic, but +a stranger to the arts of polite conversation, uncouth, vehement, and +vociferous. The coalition was too unnatural. Johnson expected a +Maecenas, and was disappointed. No patronage, no assistance followed. +Visits were repeated; but the reception was not cordial. Johnson, one +day, was left a full hour, waiting in an antichamber, till a gentleman +should retire, and leave his lordship at leisure. This was the famous +Colley Cibber. Johnson saw him go, and, fired with indignation, rushed +out of the house[l]. What lord Chesterfield thought of his visitor may +be seen in a passage in one of that nobleman's letters to his son[m]. +"There is a man, whose moral character, deep learning, and superior +parts, I acknowledge, admire, and respect; but whom it is so impossible +for me to love, that I am almost in a fever, whenever I am in his +company. His figure (without being deformed) seems made to disgrace or +ridicule the common structure of the human body. His legs and arms are +never in the position which, according to the situation of his body, +they ought to be in, but constantly employed in committing acts of +hostility upon the graces. He throws any where, but down his throat, +whatever he means to drink; and mangles what he means to carve. +Inattentive to all the regards of social life, he mistimes and misplaces +every thing. He disputes with heat indiscriminately, mindless of the +rank, character, and situation of those with whom he disputes. +Absolutely ignorant of the several gradations of familiarity and +respect, he is exactly the same to his superiors, his equals, and his +inferiors; and, therefore, by a necessary consequence, is absurd to two +of the three. Is it possible to love such a man? No. The utmost I can do +for him is, to consider him a respectable Hottentot." Such was the idea +entertained by lord Chesterfield. After the incident of Colley Cibber, +Johnson never repeated his visits. In his high and decisive tone, he has +been often heard to say, "lord Chesterfield is a wit among lords, and a +lord among wits." + +In the course of the year 1747, Garrick, in conjunction with Lacy, +became patentee of Drury lane playhouse. For the opening of the theatre, +at the usual time, Johnson wrote, for his friend, the well-known +prologue, which, to say no more of it, may, at least, be placed on a +level with Pope's to the tragedy of Cato. The playhouse being now under +Garrick's direction, Johnson thought the opportunity fair to think of +his tragedy of Irene, which was his whole stock on his first arrival in +town, in the year 1737. That play was, accordingly, put into rehearsal +in January, 1749. As a precursor to prepare the way, and to awaken the +public attention, The Vanity of human Wishes, a poem in imitation of the +tenth satire of Juvenal, by the author of London, was published in the +same month. In the Gentleman's Magazine, for February, 1749, we find +that the tragedy of Irene was acted at Drury lane, on Monday, February +the 6th, and, from that time, without interruption, to Monday, February +the 20th, being in all thirteen nights. Since that time, it has not been +exhibited on any stage. Irene may be added to some other plays in our +language, which have lost their place in the theatre, but continue to +please in the closet. During the representation of this piece, Johnson +attended every night behind the scenes. Conceiving that his character, +as an author, required some ornament for his person, he chose, upon that +occasion, to decorate himself with a handsome waistcoat, and a gold-laced +hat. The late Mr. Topham Beauclerc, who had a great deal of that +humour, which pleases the more for seeming undesigned, used to give a +pleasant description of this green-room finery, as related by the author +himself; "But," said Johnson, with great gravity, "I soon laid aside my +gold-laced hat, lest it should make me proud." The amount of the three +benefit nights for the tragedy of Irene, it is to be feared, was not +very considerable, as the profit, that stimulating motive, never invited +the author to another dramatic attempt. Some years afterwards, when the +present writer was intimate with Garrick, and knew Johnson to be in +distress, he asked the manager, why he did not produce another tragedy +for his Lichfield friend? Garrick's answer was remarkable: "When Johnson +writes tragedy, 'declamation roars, and passion sleeps:' when +Shakespeare wrote, he dipped his pen in his own heart." + +There may, perhaps, be a degree of sameness in this regular way of +tracing an author from one work to another, and the reader may feel the +effect of a tedious monotony; but, in the life of Johnson, there are no +other landmarks. He was now forty years old, and had mixed but little +with the world. He followed no profession, transacted no business, and +was a stranger to what is called a town life. We are now arrived at the +brightest period, he had hitherto known. His name broke out upon mankind +with a degree of lustre that promised a triumph over all his +difficulties. The life of Savage was admired, as a beautiful and +instructive piece of biography. The two imitations of Juvenal were +thought to rival even the excellence of Pope; and the tragedy of Irene, +though uninteresting on the stage, was universally admired in the +closet, for the propriety of the sentiments, the richness of the +language, and the general harmony of the whole composition. His fame was +widely diffused; and he had made his agreement with the booksellers for +his English dictionary at the sum of fifteen hundred guineas; a part of +which was to be, from time to time, advanced, in proportion to the +progress of the work. This was a certain fund for his support, without +being obliged to write fugitive pieces for the petty supplies of the +day. Accordingly we find that, in 1749, he established a club, +consisting of ten in number, at Horseman's, in Ivy lane, on every +Tuesday evening. This is the first scene of social life to which Johnson +can be traced, out of his own house. The members of this little society +were, Samuel Johnson; Dr. Salter, father of the late master of the +Charter house; Dr. Hawkesworth; Mr. Ryland, a merchant; Mr. Payne, a +bookseller, in Paternoster row; Mr. Samuel Dyer, a learned young man; +Dr. William M'Ghie, a Scotch physician; Dr. Edmund Barker, a young +physician; Dr. Bathurst, another young physician; and sir John Hawkins. +This list is given by sir John, as it should seem, with no other view +than to draw a spiteful and malevolent character of almost every one of +them. Mr. Dyer, whom sir John says he loved with the affection of a +brother, meets with the harshest treatment, because it was his maxim, +that "to live in peace with mankind, and in a temper to do good offices, +was the most essential part of our duty." That notion of moral goodness +gave umbrage to sir John Hawkins, and drew down upon the memory of his +friend, the bitterest imputations. Mr. Dyer, however, was admired and +loved through life. He was a man of literature. Johnson loved to enter +with him into a discussion of metaphysical, moral, and critical +subjects; in those conflicts, exercising his talents, and, according to +his custom, always contending for victory. Dr. Bathurst was the person +on whom Johnson fixed his affection. He hardly ever spoke of him without +tears in his eyes. It was from him, who was a native of Jamaica, that +Johnson received into his service Frank[n], the black servant, whom, on +account of his master, he valued to the end of his life. At the time of +instituting the club in Ivy lane, Johnson had projected the Rambler. The +title was most probably suggested by the Wanderer; a poem which he +mentions, with the warmest praise, in the life of Savage. With the same +spirit of independence with which he wished to live, it was now his +pride to write. He communicated his plan to none of his friends: he +desired no assistance, relying entirely on his own fund, and the +protection of the divine being, which he implored in a solemn form of +prayer, composed by himself for the occasion. Having formed a resolution +to undertake a work that might be of use and honour to his country, he +thought, with Milton, that this was not to be obtained "but by devout +prayer to that eternal spirit, that can enrich with all utterance and +knowledge, and send out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his +altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases." + +Having invoked the special protection of heaven, and by that act of +piety fortified his mind, he began the great work of the Rambler. The +first number was published on Tuesday, March the 20th, 1750; and from +that time was continued regularly every Tuesday and Saturday, for the +space of two years, when it finally closed on Saturday, March 14, 1752. +As it began with motives of piety, so it appears that the same religious +spirit glowed, with unabating ardour, to the last. His conclusion is: +"The essays professedly serious, if I have been able to execute my own +intentions, will be found exactly conformable to the precepts of +christianity, without any accommodation to the licentiousness and levity +of the present age. I, therefore, look back on this part of my work with +pleasure, which no man shall diminish or augment. I shall never envy the +honours which wit and learning obtain in any other cause, if I can be +numbered among the writers who have given ardour to virtue, and +confidence to truth." The whole number of essays amounted to two hundred +and eight. Addison's, in the Spectator, are more in number, but not half +in point of quantity: Addison was not bound to publish on stated days; +he could watch the ebb and flow of his genius, and send his paper to the +press, when his own taste was satisfied. Johnson's case was very +different. He wrote singly and alone. In the whole progress of the work +he did not receive more than ten essays. This was a scanty contribution. +For the rest, the author has described his situation: "He that condemns +himself to compose on a stated day, will often bring to his task an +attention dissipated, a memory embarrassed, an imagination overwhelmed, +a mind distracted with anxieties, a body languishing with disease: he +will labour on a barren topick, till it is too late to change it; or, in +the ardour of invention, diffuse his thoughts into wild exuberance, +which the pressing hour of publication cannot suffer judgment to examine +or reduce." Of this excellent production, the number sold on each day +did not amount to five hundred: of course, the bookseller, who paid the +author four guineas a week, did not carry on a successful trade. His +generosity and perseverance deserve to be commended; and happily, when +the collection appeared in volumes, were amply rewarded. Johnson lived +to see his labours nourish in a tenth edition. His posterity, as an +ingenious French writer has said, on a similar occasion, began in his +life-time. + +In the beginning of 1750, soon after the Rambler was set on foot, +Johnson was induced, by the arts of a vile impostor, to lend his +assistance, during a temporary delusion, to a fraud not to be paralleled +in the annals of literature[o]. One Lauder, a native of Scotland, who +had been a teacher in the university of Edinburgh, had conceived a +mortal antipathy to the name and character of Milton. His reason was, +because the prayer of Pamela, in sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, was, as he +supposed, maliciously inserted by the great poet in an edition of the +Eikôn Basilike, in order to fix an imputation of impiety on the +memory of the murdered king. Fired with resentment, and willing to reap +the profits of a gross imposition, this man collected, from several +Latin poets, such as Masenius the jesuit, Staphorstius, a Dutch divine, +Beza, and others, all such passages as bore any kind of resemblance to +different places in the Paradise Lost; and these he published, from time +to time, in the Gentleman's Magazine, with occasional interpolations of +lines, which he himself translated from Milton. The public credulity +swallowed all with eagerness; and Milton was supposed to be guilty of +plagiarism from inferior modern writers. The fraud succeeded so well, +that Lauder collected the whole into a volume, and advertised it under +the title of An Essay on Milton's Use and Imitation of the Moderns, in +his Paradise Lost; dedicated to the universities of Oxford and +Cambridge. While the book was in the press, the proof-sheets were shown +to Johnson, at the Ivy lane club, by Payne, the bookseller, who was one +of the members. No man in that society was in possession of the authors +from whom Lauder professed to make his extracts. The charge was +believed, and the contriver of it found his way to Johnson, who is +represented, by sir John Hawkins, not indeed as an accomplice in the +fraud, but, through motives of malignity to Milton, delighting in the +detection, and exulting that the poet's reputation would suffer by the +discovery. More malice to a deceased friend cannot well be imagined. +Hawkins adds, "that he wished well to the argument must be inferred from +the preface, which, indubitably, was written by him." The preface, it is +well known, was written by Johnson, and for that reason is inserted in +this edition. But if Johnson approved of the argument, it was no longer +than while he believed it founded in truth. Let us advert to his own +words in that very preface. "Among the inquiries to which the ardour of +criticism has naturally given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, +or more worthy of rational curiosity, than a retrospection of the +progress of this mighty genius in the construction of his work; a view +of the fabrick gradually rising, perhaps from small beginnings, till its +foundation rests in the centre, and its turrets sparkle in the skies; to +trace back the structure, through all its varieties, to the simplicity +of the first plan; to find what was projected, whence the scheme was +taken, how it was improved, by what assistance it was executed, and from +what stores the materials were collected; whether its founder dug them +from the quarries of nature, or demolished other buildings to embellish +his own." These were the motives that induced Johnson to assist Lauder +with a preface; and are not these the motives of a critic and a scholar? +What reader of taste, what man of real knowledge, would not think his +time well employed in an enquiry so curious, so interesting, and +instructive? If Lauder's facts were really true, who would not be glad, +without the smallest tincture of malevolence, to receive real +information? It is painful to be thus obliged to vindicate a man who, in +his heart, towered above the petty arts of fraud and imposition, against +an injudicious biographer, who undertook to be his editor, and the +protector of his memory. Another writer, Dr. Towers, in an Essay on the +Life and Character of Dr. Johnson, seems to countenance this calumny. He +says: "It can hardly be doubted, but that Johnson's aversion to +Milton's politics was the cause of that alacrity, with which he joined +with Lauder in his infamous attack on our great epic poet, and which +induced him to assist in that transaction." These words would seem to +describe an accomplice, were they not immediately followed by an express +declaration, that Johnson was "unacquainted with the imposture." Dr. +Towers adds, "It seems to have been, by way of making some compensation +to the memory of Milton, for the share he had in the attack of Lauder, +that Johnson wrote the prologue, spoken by Garrick, at Drury lane +theatre, 1750, on the performance of the Masque of Comus, for the +benefit of Milton's granddaughter." Dr. Towers is not free from +prejudice; but, as Shakespeare has it, "he begets a temperance, to give +it smoothness." He is, therefore, entitled to a dispassionate answer. +When Johnson wrote the prologue, it does appear that he was aware of the +malignant artifices practised by Lauder. In the postscript to Johnson's +preface, a subscription is proposed, for relieving the granddaughter of +the author of Paradise Lost. Dr. Towers will agree, that this shows +Johnson's alacrity in doing good. That alacrity showed itself again, in +the letter printed in the European Magazine, January, 1785, and there +said to have appeared originally in the General Advertiser, 4th April, +1750, by which the public were invited to embrace the opportunity of +paying a just regard to the illustrious dead, united with the pleasure +of doing good to the living. The letter adds, "To assist industrious +indigence, struggling with distress, and debilitated by age, is a +display of virtue, and an acquisition of happiness and honour. Whoever, +therefore, would be thought capable of pleasure, in reading the works of +our incomparable Milton, and not so destitute of gratitude, as to refuse +to lay out a trifle, in a rational and elegant entertainment, for the +benefit of his living remains, for the exercise of their own virtue, the +increase of their reputation, and the consciousness of doing good, +should appear at Drury lane theatre, to-morrow, April 5, when Comus will +be performed, for the benefit of Mrs. Elizabeth Foster, granddaughter to +the author, and the only surviving branch of his family. _Nota bene_, +there will be a new prologue on the occasion, written by the author of +Irene, and spoken by Mr. Garrick." The man, who had thus exerted himself +to serve the granddaughter, cannot be supposed to have entertained +personal malice to the grandfather. It is true, that the malevolence of +Lauder, as well as the impostures of Archibald Bower, were fully +detected by the labours, in the cause of truth, of the reverend Dr. +Douglas, the late lord bishop of Salisbury, + +--"Diram qui contudit Hydram + Notaque fatali portenta labore subegit." + +But the pamphlet, entitled, Milton vindicated from the Charge +of Plagiarism brought against him by Mr. Lauder, and Lauder himself +convicted of several forgeries, and gross impositions on the public, by +John Douglas, M.A. rector of Eaton Constantine, Salop, was not published +till the year 1751. In that work, p. 77, Dr. Douglas says, "It is to be +hoped, nay, it is expected, that the elegant and nervous writer, whose +judicious sentiments, and inimitable style, point out the author of +Lauder's preface and postcript, will no longer allow a man to plume +himself with his feathers, who appears so little to have deserved his +assistance; an assistance which, I am persuaded, would never have been +communicated, had there been the least suspicion of those facts, which I +have been the instrument of conveying to the world." We have here a +contemporary testimony to the integrity of Dr. Johnson, throughout the +whole of that vile transaction. What was the consequence of the +requisition made by Dr. Douglas? Johnson, whose ruling passion may be +said to be the love of truth, convinced Lauder, that it would be more +for his interest to make a full confession of his guilt, than to stand +forth the convicted champion of a lie; and, for this purpose, he drew +up, in the strongest terms, a recantation, in a letter to the reverend +Mr. Douglas, which Lauder signed, and published in the year 1751. That +piece will remain a lasting memorial of the abhorrence, with which +Johnson beheld a violation of truth. Mr. Nichols, whose attachment to +his illustrious friend was unwearied, showed him, in 1780, a book, +called Remarks on Johnson's Life of Milton; in which the affair of +Lauder was renewed with virulence; and a poetical scale in the Literary +Magazine, 1758, (when Johnson had ceased to write in that collection,) +was urged as an additional proof of deliberate malice. He read the +libellous passage with attention, and instantly wrote on the margin: "In +the business of Lauder I was deceived, partly by thinking the man too +frantick to be fraudulent. Of the poetical scale, quoted from the +magazine, I am not the author. I fancy it was put in after I had quitted +that work; for I not only did not write it, but I do not remember it." +As a critic and a scholar, Johnson was willing to receive what numbers, +at the time, believed to be true information: when he found that the +whole was a forgery, he renounced all connexion with the author. + +In March, 1752, he felt a severe stroke of affliction in the death of +his wife. The last number of the Rambler, as already mentioned, was on +the 14th of that month. The loss of Mrs. Johnson was then approaching, +and, probably, was the cause that put an end to those admirable +periodical essays. It appears that she died on the 28th of March, in a +memorandum, at the foot of the Prayers and Meditations, that is called +her Dying Day. She was buried at Bromley, under the care of Dr. +Hawkesworth. Johnson placed a Latin inscription on her tomb, in which he +celebrated her beauty. With the singularity of his prayers for his +deceased wife, from that time to the end of his days, the world is +sufficiently acquainted. On Easter day, 22nd April, 1764, his memorandum +says: "Thought on Tetty, poor dear Tetty! with my eyes full. Went to +church. After sermon I recommended Tetty in a prayer by herself; and my +father, mother, brother, and Bathurst, in another. I did it only once, +so far as it might be lawful for me." In a prayer, January 23, 1759, the +day on which his mother was buried, he commends, as far as may be +lawful, her soul to God, imploring for her whatever is most beneficial +to her in her present state. In this habit he persevered to the end of +his days. The reverend Mr. Strahan, the editor of the Prayers and +Meditations, observes, "that Johnson, on some occasions, prays that the +Almighty _may have had mercy_ on his wife and Mr. Thrale; evidently +supposing their sentence to have been already passed in the divine mind; +and, by consequence, proving, that he had no belief in a state of +purgatory, and no reason for praying for the dead that could impeach the +sincerity of his profession as a protestant." Mr. Strahan adds, "that, +in praying for the regretted tenants of the grave, Johnson conformed to +a practice which has been retained by many learned members of the +established church, though the liturgy no longer admits it, if _where +the tree, falleth, there it shall be_; if our state, at the close of +life, is to be the measure of our final sentence, then prayers for the +dead, being visibly fruitless, can be regarded only as the vain +oblations of superstition. But of all superstitions this, perhaps, is +one of the least unamiable, and most incident to a good mind. If our +sensations of kindness be intense, those, whom we have revered and +loved, death cannot wholly seclude from our concern. It is true, for the +reason just mentioned, such evidences of our surviving affection may be +thought ill judged; but surely they are generous, and some natural +tenderness is due even to a superstition, which thus originates in piety +and benevolence." These sentences, extracted from the reverend Mr. +Strahan's preface, if they are not a full justification, are, at least, +a beautiful apology. It will not be improper to add what Johnson himself +has said on the subject. Being asked by Mr. Boswell[p], what he thought +of purgatory, as believed by the Roman catholicks? his answer was, "It +is a very harmless doctrine. They are of opinion, that the generality of +mankind are neither so obstinately wicked, as to deserve everlasting +punishment; nor so good as to merit being admitted into the society of +blessed spirits; and, therefore, that God is graciously pleased to allow +a middle state, where they may be purified by certain degrees of +suffering. You see there is nothing unreasonable in this; and if it be +once established, that there are souls in purgatory, it is as proper to +pray for them, as for our brethren of mankind, who are yet in this +life." This was Dr. Johnson's guess into futurity; and to guess is the +utmost that man can do: + + "Shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it." + +Mrs. Johnson left a daughter, Lucy Porter, by her first husband. She had +contracted a friendship with Mrs. Anne Williams, the daughter of Zachary +Williams, a physician of eminence in South Wales, who had devoted more +than thirty years of a long life to the study of the longitude, and was +thought to have made great advances towards that important discovery. +His letters to lord Halifax, and the lords of the admiralty, partly +corrected and partly written by Dr. Johnson, are still extant in the +hands of Mr. Nichols[q]. We there find Dr. Williams, in the eighty-third +year of his age, stating, that he had prepared an instrument, which +might be called an epitome or miniature of the terraqueous globe, +showing, with the assistance of tables, constructed by himself, the +variations of the magnetic needle, and ascertaining the longitude, for +the safety of navigation. It appears that this scheme had been referred +to sir Isaac Newton; but that great philosopher excusing himself on +account of his advanced age, all applications were useless, till 1751, +when the subject was referred, by order of lord Anson, to Dr. Bradley, +the celebrated professor of astronomy. His report was unfavourable[r], +though it allows that a considerable progress had been made. Dr. +Williams, after all his labour and expense, died in a short time after, +a melancholy instance of unrewarded merit. His daughter possessed +uncommon talents, and, though blind, had an alacrity of mind that made +her conversation agreeable, and even desirable. To relieve and appease +melancholy reflexions, Johnson took her home to his house in Gough +square. In 1755, Garrick gave her a benefit play, which produced two +hundred pounds. In 1766, she published, by subscription, a quarto volume +of miscellanies, and increased her little stock to three hundred pounds. +That fund, with Johnson's protection, supported her, through the +remainder of her life. + +During the two years in which the Rambler was carried on, the Dictionary +proceeded by slow degrees. In May, 1752, having composed a prayer, +preparatory to his return from tears and sorrow to the duties of life, +he resumed his grand design, and went on with vigour, giving, however, +occasional assistance to his friend, Dr. Hawkesworth, in the Adventurer, +which began soon after the Rambler was laid aside. Some of the most +valuable essays in that collection were from the pen of Johnson. The +Dictionary was completed towards the end of 1754; and, Cave being then +no more, it was a mortification to the author of that noble addition to +our language, that his old friend did not live to see the triumph of his +labours. In May, 1755, that great work was published. Johnson was +desirous that it should come from one who had obtained academical +honours; and for that purpose his friend, the rev. Thos. Warton, +obtained for him, in the preceding month of February, a diploma for a +master's degree, from the university of Oxford.--Garrick, on the +publication of the Dictionary, wrote the following lines: + + "Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance, + That one English soldier can beat ten of France. + Would we alter the boast, from the sword to the pen, + Our odds are still greater, still greater our men. + In the deep mines of science, though Frenchmen may toil, + Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, or Boyle? + Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their powers, + Their versemen and prosemen, then match them with ours. + First Shakespeare and Milton, like gods in the fight, + Have put their whole drama and epic to flight. + In satires, epistles, and odes would they cope? + Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope. + And Johnson, well arm'd, like a hero of yore, + Has beat forty French, and will beat forty more." + +It is, perhaps, needless to mention, that forty was the number of the +French academy, at the time when their dictionary was published to +settle their language. + +In the course of the winter, preceding this grand publication, the late +earl of Chesterfield gave two essays in the periodical paper, called The +World, dated November 28, and December 5, 1754, to prepare the public +for so important a work. The original plan, addressed to his lordship in +the year 1747, is there mentioned, in terms of the highest praise; and +this was understood, at the time, to be a courtly way of soliciting a +dedication of the Dictionary to himself. Johnson treated this civility +with disdain. He said to Garrick and others: "I have sailed a long and +painful voyage round the world of the English language; and does he now +send out two cockboats to tow me into harbour?" He had said, in the last +number of the Rambler, "that, having laboured to maintain the dignity of +virtue, I will not now degrade it by the meanness of dedication." Such a +man, when he had finished his Dictionary, "not," as he says himself, "in +the soft obscurities of retirement, or under the shelter of academick +bowers, but amidst inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in +sorrow, and without the patronage of the great," was not likely to be +caught by the lure, thrown out by lord Chesterfield. He had, in vain, +sought the patronage of that nobleman; and his pride, exasperated by +disappointment, drew from him the following letter, dated in the month +of February, 1755. + + "TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD. + + MY LORD,--I have been lately informed, by the proprietors of The + World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the + publick, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished is an + honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, + I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. + + When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I + was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your + address, and could not forbear to wish, that I might boast myself "le + vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre;" that I might obtain that regard + for which I saw the world contending. But I found my attendance so + little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to + continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in publick, I had + exhausted all the art of pleasing, which a retired and uncourtly + scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well + pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. + + Seven years, my lord, have now passed, since I waited in your outward + room, or was repulsed from your door; during which time, I have been + pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to + complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, + without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile + of favour. Such treatment I did not expect; for I never had a patron + before. + + The shepherd in Virgil grew acquainted with love, and found him a + native of the rocks. + + Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man + struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, + encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to + take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been + delayed, till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am + solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I + hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations, where + no benefit has been received; or to be unwilling that the publick + should consider me as owing that to a patron, which providence has + enabled me to do for myself. + + Having carried on my work, thus far, with so little obligation to any + favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed, though I should + conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long + wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself, with + so much exultation, + + My lord, + your lordship's most humble + and most obedient servant, + SAMUEL JOHNSON." + +It is said, upon good authority, that Johnson once received from lord +Chesterfield the sum of ten pounds. It were to be wished that the secret +had never transpired. It was mean to receive it, and meaner to give it. +It may be imagined, that for Johnson's ferocity, as it has been called, +there was some foundation in his finances; and, as his Dictionary was +brought to a conclusion, that money was now to flow in upon him. The +reverse was the case. For his subsistence, during the progress of the +work, he had received, at different times, the amount of his contract; +and, when his receipts were produced to him at a tavern dinner, given by +the booksellers, it appeared, that he had been paid a hundred pounds and +upwards more than his due. The author of a book, called Lexiphanes[s], +written by a Mr. Campbell, a Scotchman, and purser of a man of war, +endeavoured to blast his laurels, but in vain. The world applauded, and +Johnson never replied. "Abuse," he said, "is often of service: there is +nothing so dangerous to an author as silence; his name, like a +shittlecock [Transcriber's note: sic], must be beat backward and forward, +or it falls to the ground." Lexiphanes professed to be an imitation of the +pleasant manner of Lucian; but humour was not the talent of the writer of +Lexiphanes. As Dryden says, "he had too much horse-play in his raillery." + +It was in the summer, 1754, that the present writer became acquainted +with Dr. Johnson. The cause of his first visit is related by Mrs. +Piozzi, nearly in the following manner:--Mr. Murphy being engaged in a +periodical paper, the Gray's inn Journal, was at a friend's house in the +country, and, not being disposed to lose pleasure for business, wished +to content his bookseller by some unstudied essay. He, therefore, took +up a French Journal Littéraire, and, translating something he liked, +sent it away to town. Time, however, discovered that he translated from +the French, a Rambler, which had been taken from the English, without +acknowledgment. Upon this discovery, Mr. Murphy thought it right to make +his excuses to Dr. Johnson. He went next day, and found him covered with +soot, like a chimney-sweeper, in a little room, as if he had been acting +Lungs, in the Alchemist, "making ether." This being told by Mr. Murphy, +in company, "Come, come," said Dr. Johnson, "the story is black enough; +but it was a happy day that brought you first to my house." After this +first visit, the author of this narrative, by degrees, grew intimate +with Dr. Johnson. The first striking sentence, that he heard from him, +was in a few days after the publication of lord Bolingbroke's posthumous +works. Mr. Garrick asked him, "If he had seen them." "Yes, I have seen +them." "What do you think of them?" "Think of them!" He made a long +pause, and then replied: "Think of them! A scoundrel, and a coward! A +scoundrel, who spent his life in charging a gun against christianity; +and a coward, who was afraid of hearing the report of his own gun; but +left half a crown to a hungry Scotchman to draw the trigger, after his +death." His mind, at this time strained, and over-laboured by constant +exertion, called for an interval of repose and indolence. But indolence +was the time of danger: it was then that his spirits, not employed +abroad, turned with inward hostility against himself. His reflections on +his own life and conduct were always severe; and, wishing to be +immaculate, he destroyed his own peace by unnecessary scruples. He tells +us, that when he surveyed his past life, he discovered nothing but a +barren waste of time, with some disorders of body, and disturbances of +mind, very near to madness. His life, he says, from his earliest years, +was wasted in a morning bed; and his reigning sin was a general +sluggishness, to which he was always inclined, and, in part of his life, +almost compelled, by morbid melancholy, and weariness of mind. This was +his constitutional malady, derived, perhaps, from his father, who was, +at times, overcast with a gloom that bordered on insanity. When to this +it is added, that Johnson, about the age of twenty, drew up a +description of his infirmities, for Dr. Swinfen, at that time an eminent +physician, in Staffordshire; and received an answer to his letter, +importing, that the symptoms indicated a future privation of reason; who +can wonder, that he was troubled with melancholy, and dejection of +spirit? An apprehension of the worst calamity that can befall human +nature hung over him all the rest of his life, like the sword of the +tyrant suspended over his guest. In his sixtieth year he had a mind to +write the history of his melancholy; but he desisted, not knowing +whether it would not too much disturb him. In a Latin poem, however, to +which he has prefixed, as a title, [Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON], he has left +a picture of himself, drawn with as much truth, and as firm a hand, as +can be seen in the portraits of Hogarth, or sir Joshua Reynolds. The +learned reader will find the original poem in this volume; and it is +hoped, that a translation, or rather imitation, of so curious a piece, +will not be improper in this place. + + KNOW YOURSELF. + (AFTER REVISING AND ENLARGING THE ENGLISH LEXICON, OR DICTIONARY.) + + When Scaliger, whole years of labour past, + Beheld his lexicon complete at last, + And weary of his task, with wond'ring eyes, + Saw, from words pil'd on words, a fabric rise, + He curs'd the industry, inertly strong, + In creeping toil that could persist so long; + And if, enrag'd he cried, heav'n meant to shed + Its keenest vengeance on the guilty head, + The drudgery of words the damn'd would know, + Doom'd to write lexicons in endless woe[t]. + + Yes, you had cause, great genius, to repent; + "You lost good days, that might be better spent;" + You well might grudge the hours of ling'ring pain, + And view your learned labours with disdain. + To you were given the large expanded mind, + The flame of genius, and the taste refin'd. + 'Twas yours, on eagle wings, aloft to soar, + And, amidst rolling worlds, the great first cause explore, + To fix the aeras of recorded time, + And live in ev'ry age and ev'ry clime; + Record the chiefs, who propt their country's cause; + Who founded empires, and establish'd laws; + To learn whate'er the sage, with virtue fraught, + Whate'er the muse of moral wisdom taught. + These were your quarry; these to you were known, + And the world's ample volume was your own. + + Yet, warn'd by me, ye pigmy wits, beware, + Nor with immortal Scaliger compare. + For me, though his example strike my view, + Oh! not for me his footsteps to pursue. + Whether first nature, unpropitious, cold, + This clay compounded in a ruder mould; + Or the slow current, loit'ring at my heart, + No gleam of wit or fancy can impart; + Whate'er the cause, from me no numbers flow, + No visions warm me, and no raptures glow. + A mind like Scaliger's, superior still, + No grief could conquer, no misfortune chill. + Though, for the maze of words, his native skies + He seem'd to quit, 'twas but again to rise; + To mount, once more, to the bright source of day, + And view the wonders of th' ethereal way. + The love of fame his gen'rous bosom fir'd; + Each science hail'd him, and each muse inspir'd. + For him the sons of learning trimm'd the bays, + And nations grew harmonious in his praise. + + My task perform'd, and all my labours o'er, + For me what lot has fortune now in store? + The listless will succeeds, that worst disease, + The rack of indolence, the sluggish ease. + Care grows on care, and o'er my aching brain + Black melancholy pours her morbid train. + No kind relief, no lenitive at hand, + I seek, at midnight clubs, the social band; + But midnight clubs, where wit with noise conspires, + Where Comus revels, and where wine inspires, + Delight no more: I seek my lonely bed, + And call on sleep to sooth my languid head. + But sleep from these sad lids flies far away; + I mourn all night, and dread the coming day. + Exhausted, tir'd, I throw my eyes around, + To find some vacant spot on classic ground; + And soon, vain hope! I form a grand design; + Languor succeeds, and all my pow'rs decline. + If science open not her richest vein, + Without materials all our toil is vain. + A form to rugged stone when Phidias gives-- + Beneath his touch a new creation lives. + Remove his marble, and his genius dies: + With nature then no breathing statue vies. + Whate'er I plan, I feel my pow'rs confin'd + By fortune's frown, and penury of mind. + I boast no knowledge, glean'd with toil and strife, + That bright reward of a well acted life. + I view myself, while reason's feeble light + Shoots a pale glimmer through the gloom of night; + While passions, error, phantoms of the brain, + And vain opinions, fill the dark domain; + A dreary void, where fears, with grief combin'd, + Waste all within, and desolate the mind. + + What then remains? Must I, in slow decline, + To mute inglorious ease old age resign? + Or, bold ambition kindling in my breast, + Attempt some arduous task? Or, were it best, + Brooding o'er lexicons to pass the day, + And in that labour drudge my life away? + +Such is the picture for which Dr. Johnson sat to himself. He gives the +prominent features of his character; his lassitude, his morbid +melancholy, his love of fame, his dejection, his tavern-parties, and his +wandering reveries, "Vacuae mala somnia mentis," about which so much has +been written; all are painted in miniature, but in vivid colours, by his +own hand. His idea of writing more dictionaries was not merely said in +verse. Mr. Hamilton, who was at that time an eminent printer, and well +acquainted with Dr. Johnson, remembers that he engaged in a Commercial +Dictionary, and, as appears by the receipts in his possession, was paid +his price for several sheets; but he soon relinquished the undertaking. +It is probable, that he found himself not sufficiently versed in that +branch of knowledge. + +He was again reduced to the expedient of short compositions, for the +supply of the day. The writer of this narrative has now before him a +letter, in Dr. Johnson's handwriting, which shows the distress and +melancholy situation of the man, who had written the Rambler, and +finished the great work of his Dictionary. The letter is directed to Mr. +Richardson, the author of Clarissa, and is as follows: + + "SIR,--I am obliged to entreat your assistance. I am now under an + arrest for five pounds eighteen shillings. Mr. Strahan, from whom I + should have received the necessary help in this case, is not at home; + and I am afraid of not finding Mr. Millar. If you will be so good as + to send me this sum, I will very gratefully repay you, and add it to + all former obligations. I am, sir, + + Your most obedient, + + and most humble servant, + + SAMUEL JOHNSON. + + Gough square, 16 March." + +In the margin of this letter, there is a memorandum in these words: +"March 16, 1756, sent six guineas. Witness, Wm. Richardson." For the +honour of an admired writer it is to be regretted, that we do not find a +more liberal entry. To his friend, in distress, he sent eight shillings +more than was wanted. Had an incident of this kind occurred in one of +his romances, Richardson would have known how to grace his hero; but in +fictitious scenes, generosity costs the writer nothing. + +About this time Johnson contributed several papers to a periodical +miscellany, called The Visiter, from motives which are highly honourable +to him, a compassionate regard for the late Mr. Christopher Smart. The +criticism on Pope's epitaphs appeared in that work. In a short time +after, he became a reviewer in the Literary magazine, under the auspices +of the late Mr. Newbery, a man of a projecting head, good taste, and +great industry. This employment engrossed but little of Johnson's time. +He resigned himself to indolence, took no exercise, rose about two, and +then received the visits of his friends. Authors, long since forgotten, +waited on him, as their oracle, and he gave responses in the chair of +criticism. He listened to the complaints, the schemes, and the hopes and +fears of a crowd of inferior writers, "who," he said, in the words of +Roger Ascham, "lived _men knew not how, and died obscure, men marked not +when_." He believed, that he could give a better history of Grub street +than any man living. His house was filled with a succession of visitors +till four or five in the evening. During the whole time he presided at +his tea-table. Tea was his favourite beverage; and, when the late Jonas +Hanway pronounced his anathema against the use of tea, Johnson rose in +defence of his habitual practice, declaring himself "in that article, a +hardened sinner, who had for years diluted his meals with the infusion +of that fascinating plant; whose tea-kettle had no time to cool; who, +with tea, solaced the midnight hour, and with tea welcomed the morning." + +The proposal for a new edition of Shakespeare, which had formerly +miscarried, was resumed in the year 1756. The booksellers readily agreed +to his terms: and subscription-tickets were issued out. For undertaking +this work, money, he confessed, was the inciting motive. His friends +exerted themselves to promote his interest; and, in the mean time, he +engaged in a new periodical production, called The Idler. The first +number appeared on Saturday, April 15, 1758 and the last, April 5, 1760. +The profits of this work, and the subscriptions for the new edition of +Shakespeare, were the means by which he supported himself for four or +five years. In 1759, was published Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia. His +translation of Lobo's Voyage to Abissinia, seems to have pointed out +that country for the scene of action; and Rassela Christos, the general +of sultan Sequed, mentioned in that work, most probably suggested the +name of the prince. The author wanted to set out on a journey to +Lichfield, in order to pay the last offices of filial piety to his +mother, who, at the age of ninety, was then near her dissolution; but +money was necessary. Mr. Johnston, a bookseller, who has, long since, +left off business, gave one hundred pounds for the copy. With this +supply Johnson set out for Lichfield; but did not arrive in time to +close the eyes of a parent whom he loved. He attended the funeral, +which, as appears among his memorandums, was on the 23rd of January, +1759. + +Johnson now found it necessary to retrench his expenses. He gave up his +house in Gough square. Mrs. Williams went into lodgings. He retired to +Gray's inn, and soon removed to chambers in the Inner Temple lane, where +he lived in poverty, total idleness, and the pride of literature: "Magni +stat nominis umbra." Mr. Fitzherbert, the father of lord St. Helens, the +present minister at Madrid, a man distinguished, through life, for his +benevolence and other amiable qualities, used to say, that he paid a +morning visit to Johnson, intending, from his chambers, to send a letter +into the city; but, to his great surprise, he found an author by +profession, without pen, ink, or paper. The present bishop of Salisbury +was also among those who endeavoured, by constant attention, to sooth +the cares of a mind, which he knew to be afflicted with gloomy +apprehensions. At one of the parties made at his house, Boscovich, the +jesuit, who had then lately introduced the Newtonian philosophy at Rome, +and, after publishing an elegant Latin poem on the subject, was made a +fellow of the Royal Society, was one of the company invited to meet Dr. +Johnson. The conversation, at first, was mostly in French. Johnson, +though thoroughly versed in that language, and a professed admirer of +Boileau and La Bruyère, did not understand its pronunciation, nor +could he speak it himself with propriety. For the rest of the evening +the talk was in Latin. Boscovich had a ready current flow of that flimsy +phraseology, with which a priest may travel through Italy, Spain, and +Germany. Johnson scorned what he called colloquial barbarisms. It was +his pride to speak his best. He went on, after a little practice, with +as much facility as if it was his native tongue. One sentence this +writer well remembers. Observing that Fontenelle, at first, opposed the +Newtonian philosophy, and embraced it afterwards, his words were: +"Fontinellus, ni fallor, in extrema senectute, fuit transfuga ad castra +Newtoniana." + +We have now travelled through that part of Dr. Johnson's life, which was +a perpetual struggle with difficulties. Halcyon days are now to open +upon him. In the month of May, 1762, his majesty, to reward literary +merit, signified his pleasure to grant to Johnson a pension of three +hundred pounds a year. The earl of Bute was minister. Lord Loughborough, +who, perhaps, was originally a mover in the business, had authority to +mention it. He was well acquainted with Johnson; but, having heard much +of his independent spirit, and of the downfal of Osborne, the +bookseller, he did not know but his benevolence might be rewarded with a +folio on his head. He desired the author of these memoirs to undertake +the task. This writer thought the opportunity of doing so much good the +most happy incident in his life. He went, without delay, to the +chambers, in the Inner Temple lane, which, in fact, were the abode of +wretchedness. By slow and studied approaches the message was disclosed. +Johnson made a long pause: he asked if it was seriously intended: he +fell into a profound meditation, and his own definition of a pensioner +occurred to him. He was told, "that he, at least, did not come within +the definition." He desired to meet next day, and dine at the Mitre +tavern. At that meeting he gave up all his scruples. On the following +day, lord Loughborough conducted him to the earl of Bute. The +conversation that passed, was, in the evening, related to this writer, +by Dr. Johnson. He expressed his sense of his majesty's bounty, and +thought himself the more highly honoured, as the favour was not bestowed +on him for having dipped his pen in faction. "No, sir," said lord Bute, +"it is not offered to you for having dipped your pen in faction, nor +with a design that you ever should." Sir John Hawkins will have it, +that, after this interview, Johnson was often pressed to wait on lord +Bute, but with a sullen spirit refused to comply. However that be, +Johnson was never heard to utter a disrespectful word of that nobleman. +The writer of this essay remembers a circumstance, which may throw some +light on this subject. The late Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, whom Johnson +loved and respected, contended for the pre-eminence of the Scotch +writers; and Ferguson's book on Civil Society, then on the eve of +publication, he said, would give the laurel to North Britain. "Alas! +what can he do upon that subject?" said Johnson: "Aristotle, Polybius, +Grotius, Puffendorf, and Burlemaqui, have reaped in that field before +him." "He will treat it," said Dr. Rose, "in a new manner." "A new +manner! Buckinger had no hands, and he wrote his name with his toes, at +Charing Cross, for half a crown a piece; that was a new manner of +writing!" Dr. Rose replied: "If that will not satisfy you, I will name a +writer, whom you must allow to be the best in the kingdom." "Who is +that?" "The earl of Bute, when he wrote an order for your pension." +"There, sir," said Johnson, "you have me in the toil: to lord Bute I +must allow whatever praise you claim for him." Ingratitude was no part +of Johnson's character. + +Being now in the possession of a regular income, Johnson left his +chambers in the temple, and, once more, became master of a house in +Johnson's court, Fleet street. Dr. Levet, his friend and physician in +ordinary[u], paid his daily visits, with assiduity; made tea all the +morning, talked what he had to say, and did not expect an answer. Mrs. +Williams had her apartment in the house, and entertained her benefactor +with more enlarged conversation. Chymistry was a part of Johnson's +amusement. For this love of experimental philosophy, sir John Hawkins +thinks an apology necessary. He tells us, with great gravity, that +curiosity was the only object in view; not an intention to grow suddenly +rich by the philosopher's stone, or the transmutation of metals. To +enlarge this circle, Johnson, once more, had recourse to a literary +club. This was at the Turk's head, in Gerard street, Soho, on every +Tuesday evening through the year. The members were, besides himself, the +right honourable Edmund Burke, sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Nugent, Dr. +Goldsmith, the late Mr. Topham Beauclerc, Mr. Langton, Mr. Chamier, sir +J. Hawkins, and some others. Johnson's affection for sir Joshua was +founded on a long acquaintance, and a thorough knowledge of the virtuous +and amiable qualities of that excellent artist. He delighted in the +conversation of Mr. Burke. He met him, for the first time, at Mr. +Garrick's, several years ago. On the next day he said: "I suppose, +Murphy, you are proud of your countryman: 'Cum talis sit, utinam noster +esset!'" From that time, his constant observation was, "that a man of +sense could not meet Mr. Burke, by accident, under a gateway, to avoid a +shower, without being convinced, that he was the first man in England." +Johnson felt not only kindness, but zeal and ardour for his friends. He +did every thing in his power to advance the reputation of Dr. Goldsmith. +He loved him, though he knew his failings, and particularly the leaven +of envy, which corroded the mind of that elegant writer, and made him +impatient, without disguise, of the praises bestowed on any person +whatever. Of this infirmity, which marked Goldsmith's character, Johnson +gave a remarkable instance. It happened that he went with sir Joshua +Reynolds and Goldsmith, to see the fantoccini, which were exhibited, +some years ago, in or near the Haymarket. They admired the curious +mechanism by which the puppets were made to walk the stage, draw a chair +to the table, sit down, write a letter, and perform a variety of other +actions, with such dexterity, that "though nature's journeymen made the +men, they imitated humanity," to the astonishment of the spectator. The +entertainment being over, the three friends retired to a tavern. Johnson +and sir Joshua talked with pleasure of what they had seen; and, says +Johnson, in a tone of admiration: "How the little fellow brandished his +spontoon!" "There is nothing in it," replied Goldsmith, starting up with +impatience, "give me a spontoon; I can do it as well myself." + +Enjoying his amusements at his weekly club, and happy in a state of +independence, Johnson gained, in the year 1765, another resource, which +contributed, more than any thing else, to exempt him from the +solicitudes of life. He was introduced to the late Mr. Thrale and his +family. Mrs. Piozzi has related the fact, and it is, therefore, needless +to repeat it in this place. The author of this narrative looks back to +the share he had in that business, with self-congratulation, since he +knows the tenderness which, from that time, soothed Johnson's cares at +Streatham, and prolonged a valuable life. The subscribers to Shakespeare +began to despair of ever seeing the promised edition. To acquit himself +of this obligation, he went to work unwillingly, but proceeded with +vigour. In the month of October, 1765, Shakespeare was published; and, +in a short time after, the university of Dublin sent over a diploma, in +honourable terms, creating him a doctor of laws. Oxford, in eight or ten +years afterwards, followed the example; and, till then, Johnson never +assumed the title of doctor. In 1766, his constitution seemed to be in a +rapid decline; and that morbid melancholy, which often clouded his +understanding, came upon him with a deeper gloom than ever. Mr. and Mrs. +Thrale paid him a visit in this situation, and found him on his knees, +with Dr. Delap, the rector of Lewes, in Sussex, beseeching God to +continue to him the use of his understanding. Mr. Thrale took him to his +house at Streatham, and Johnson, from that time, became a constant +resident in the family. He went, occasionally, to the club in Gerard +street, but his headquarters were fixed at Streatham. An apartment was +fitted up for him, and the library was greatly enlarged. Parties were +constantly invited from town; and Johnson was every day at an elegant +table, with select and polished company. Whatever could be devised by +Mr. and Mrs. Thrale to promote the happiness, and establish the health +of their guest, was studiously performed from that time to the end of +Mr. Thrale's life. Johnson accompanied the family, in all their summer +excursions, to Brighthelmstone, to Wales, and to Paris. It is but +justice to Mr. Thrale to say, that a more ingenuous frame of mind no man +possessed. His education at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman; +his amiable temper recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his +heart made him a sincere friend. That he was the patron of Johnson, is +an honour to his memory. + +In petty disputes with contemporary writers, or the wits of the age, +Johnson was seldom entangled. A single incident of that kind may not be +unworthy of notice, since it happened with a man of great celebrity in +his time. A number of friends dined with Garrick on a Christmas day. +Foote was then in Ireland. It was said, at table, that the modern +Aristophanes (so Foote was called) had been horsewhipped by a Dublin +apothecary, for mimicking him on the stage. "I wonder," said Garrick, +"that any man should show so much resentment to Foote; he has a patent +for such liberties; nobody ever thought it worth his while to quarrel +with him in London." "I am glad," said Johnson, "to find that the man is +rising in the world." The expression was afterwards repeated to Foote, +who, in return, gave out, that he would produce the Caliban of +literature on the stage. Being informed of this design, Johnson sent +word to Foote: "that the theatre being intended for the reformation of +vice, he would step from the boxes on the stage, and correct him before +the audience." Foote knew the intrepidity of his antagonist, and +abandoned the design. No ill will ensued. Johnson used to say: "that for +broad-faced mirth, Foote had not his equal." + +Dr. Johnson's fame excited the curiosity of the king. His majesty +expressed a desire to see a man of whom extraordinary things were said. +Accordingly, the librarian at Buckingham house invited Johnson to see +that elegant collection of books, at the same time giving a hint of what +was intended. His majesty entered the room, and, among other things, +asked the author, "if he meant to give the world any more of his +compositions." Johnson answered: "that he thought he had written +enough." "And I should think so too," replied his majesty, "if you had +not written so well." + +Though Johnson thought he had written enough, his genius, even in spite +of bodily sluggishness, could not lie still. In 1770 we find him +entering the lists, as a political writer. The flame of discord that +blazed throughout the nation, on the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the +final determination of the house of commons, that Mr. Luttrell was duly +elected by two hundred and six votes, against eleven hundred and +forty-three, spread a general spirit of discontent. To allay the tumult, +Dr. Johnson published the False Alarm. Mrs. Piozzi informs us, "that this +pamphlet was written at her house, between eight o'clock on Wednesday +night and twelve on Thursday night." This celerity has appeared +wonderful to many, and some have doubted the truth. It may, however, be +placed within the bounds of probability. Johnson has observed, that +there are different methods of composition. Virgil was used to pour out +a great number of verses in the morning, and pass the day in retrenching +the exuberances, and correcting inaccuracies; and it was Pope's custom +to write his first thoughts in his first words, and gradually to +amplify, decorate, rectify, and refine them. Others employ, at once, +memory and invention, and, with little intermediate use of the pen, form +and polish large masses by continued meditation, and write their +productions only, when, in their opinion, they have completed them. This +last was Johnson's method. He never took his pen in hand till he had +well weighed his subject, and grasped, in his mind, the sentiments, the +train of argument, and the arrangement of the whole. As he often thought +aloud, he had, perhaps, talked it over to himself. This may account for +that rapidity with which, in general, he despatched his sheets to the +press, without being at the trouble of a fair copy. Whatever may be the +logic or eloquence of the False Alarm, the house of commons have since +erased the resolution from the journals. But whether they have not left +materials for a future controversy may be made a question. + +In 1771, he published another tract, on the subject of Falkland islands. +The design was to show the impropriety of going to war with Spain for an +island, thrown aside from human use, stormy in winter, and barren in +summer. For this work it is apparent, that materials were furnished by +direction of the minister. + +At the approach of the general election in 1774, he wrote a short +discourse, called The Patriot, not with any visible application to Mr. +Wilkes; but to teach the people to reject the leaders of opposition, who +called themselves patriots. In 1775, he undertook a pamphlet of more +importance, namely, Taxation no Tyranny, in answer to the Resolutions +and Address of the American congress. The scope of the argument was, +that distant colonies, which had, in their assemblies, a legislature of +their own, were, notwithstanding, liable to be taxed in a British +parliament, where they had neither peers in one house, nor +representatives in the other. He was of opinion, that this country was +strong enough to enforce obedience. "When an Englishman," he says, "is +told that the Americans shoot up like the hydra, he naturally considers +how the hydra was destroyed." The event has shown how much he and the +minister of that day were mistaken. + +The account of the Tour to the Western Islands of Scotland, which was +undertaken in the autumn of 1773, in company with Mr. Boswell, was not +published till some time in the year 1775. This book has been variously +received; by some extolled for the elegance of the narrative, and the +depth of observation on life and manners; by others, as much condemned, +as a work of avowed hostility to the Scotch nation. The praise was, +beyond all question, fairly deserved; and the censure, on due +examination, will appear hasty and ill founded. That Johnson entertained +some prejudices against the Scotch must not be dissembled. It is true, +as Mr. Boswell says, "that he thought their success in England exceeded +their proportion of real merit, and he could not but see in them that +nationality which no liberal-minded Scotsman will deny." The author of +these memoirs well remembers, that Johnson one day asked him, "have you +observed the difference between your own country impudence and Scotch +impudence?" The answer being in the negative: "then I will tell you," +said Johnson. "The impudence of an Irishman is the impudence of a fly, +that buzzes about you, and you put it away, but it returns again, and +flutters and teases you. The impudence of a Scotsman is the impudence of +a leech, that fixes and sucks your blood." Upon another occasion, this +writer went with him into the shop of Davies, the bookseller, in Russell +street, Covent garden. Davies came running to him, almost out of breath +with joy: "The Scots gentleman is come, sir; his principal wish is to +see you; he is now in the back parlour." "Well, well, I'll see the +gentleman," said Johnson. He walked towards the room. Mr. Boswell was +the person. This writer followed, with no small curiosity. "I find," +said Mr. Boswell, "that I am come to London, at a bad time, when great +popular prejudice has gone forth against us North Britons; but, when I +am talking to you, I am talking to a large and liberal mind, and you +know that I cannot help coming from Scotland." "Sir," said Johnson, "no +more can the rest of your countrymen[x]." + +He had other reasons that helped to alienate him from the natives of +Scotland. Being a cordial well-wisher to the constitution in church and +state, he did not think that Calvin and John Knox were proper founders +of a national religion. He made, however, a wide distinction between the +dissenters of Scotland and the separatists of England. To the former he +imputed no disaffection, no want of loyalty. Their soldiers and their +officers had shed their blood with zeal and courage in the service of +great Britain; and the people, he used to say, were content with their +own established modes of worship, without wishing, in the present age, +to give any disturbance to the church of England. + +This he was, at all times, ready to admit; and, therefore, declared, +that, whenever he found a Scotchman, to whom an Englishman was as a +Scotchman, that Scotchman should be as an Englishman to him. In this, +surely, there was no rancour, no malevolence. The dissenters, on this +side the Tweed, appeared to him in a different light. Their religion, he +frequently said, was too worldly, too political, too restless and +ambitious. The doctrine of cashiering kings, and erecting, on the ruins +of the constitution, a new form of government, which lately issued from +their pulpits, he always thought was, under a calm disguise, the +principle that lay lurking in their hearts. He knew, that a wild +democracy had overturned kings, lords, and commons; and that a set of +republican fanatics, who would not bow at the name of Jesus, had taken +possession of all the livings, and all the parishes in the kingdom. That +those scenes of horror might never be renewed, was the ardent wish of +Dr. Johnson; and, though he apprehended no danger from Scotland, it is +probable, that his dislike of calvinism mingled, sometimes, with his +reflections on the natives of that country. The association of ideas +could not be easily broken; but it is well known, that he loved and +respected many gentlemen from that part of the island. Dr. Robertson's +History of Scotland, and Dr. Beattie's Essays, were subjects of his +constant praise. Mr. Boswell, Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, Andrew Millar, Mr. +Hamilton, the printer, and the late Mr. Strahan, were among his most +intimate friends. Many others might be added to the list. He scorned to +enter Scotland as a spy; though Hawkins, his biographer, and the +professing defender of his fame, allowed himself leave to represent him +in that ignoble character. He went into Scotland to survey men and +manners. Antiquities, fossils, and minerals, were not within his +province. He did not visit that country to settle the station of Roman +camps, or the spot, where Galgacus fought the last battle for public +liberty. The people, their customs, and the progress of literature, were +his objects. The civilities which he received in the course of his tour, +have been repaid with grateful acknowledgment, and, generally, with +great elegance of expression. His crime is, that he found the country +bare of trees, and he has stated the fact. This, Mr. Boswell, in his +tour to the Hebrides, has told us, was resented, by his countrymen, with +anger inflamed to rancour; but he admits that there are few trees on the +east side of Scotland. Mr. Pennant, in his tour, says, that, in some +parts of the eastern side of the country, he saw several large +plantations of pine, planted by gentlemen near their seats; and, in this +respect, such a laudable spirit prevails, that, in another half-century, +it never shall be said, "To spy the nakedness of the land are you come." +Johnson could not wait for that half-century, and, therefore, mentioned +things as he found them. If, in any thing, he has been mistaken, he has +made a fair apology, in the last paragraph of his book, avowing with +candour: "That he may have been surprised by modes of life, and +appearances of nature, that are familiar to men of wider survey, and +more varied conversation. Novelty and ignorance must always be +reciprocal: and he is conscious that his thoughts on national manners, +are the thoughts of one who has seen but little." + +The poems of Ossian made a part of Johnson's inquiry, during his +residence in Scotland and the Hebrides. On his return to England, +November, 1773, a storm seemed to be gathering over his head; but the +cloud never burst, and the thunder never fell.--Ossian, it is well +known, was presented to the public, as a translation from the Erse; but +that this was a fraud, Johnson declared, without hesitation. "The Erse," +he says, "was always oral only, and never a written language. The Welsh +and the Irish were more cultivated. In Erse, there was not in the world +a single manuscript a hundred years old. Martin, who, in the last +century, published an account of the Western Islands, mentions Irish, +but never Erse manuscripts, to be found in the islands in his time. The +bards could not read; if they could, they might, probably, have written. +But the bard was a barbarian among barbarians, and, knowing nothing +himself, lived with others that knew no more. If there is a manuscript +from which the translation was made, in what age was it written, and +where is it? If it was collected from oral recitation, it could only be +in detached parts, and scattered fragments: the whole is too long to be +remembered. Who put it together in its present form?" For these, and +such like reasons, Johnson calls the whole an imposture. He adds, "The +editor, or author, never could show the original, nor can it be shown by +any other. To revenge reasonable incredulity, by refusing evidence, is a +degree of insolence with which the world is not yet acquainted; and +stubborn audacity is the last refuge of guilt." This reasoning carries +with it great weight. It roused the resentment of Mr. Macpherson. He +sent a threatening letter to the author; and Johnson answered him in the +rough phrase of stern defiance. The two heroes frowned at a distance, +but never came to action. + +In the year 1777, the misfortunes of Dr. Dodd excited his compassion. He +wrote a speech for that unhappy man, when called up to receive judgment +of death; besides two petitions, one to the king, and another to the +queen; and a sermon to be preached by Dodd to the convicts in Newgate. +It may appear trifling to add, that, about the same time, he wrote a +prologue to the comedy of a Word to the Wise, written by Hugh Kelly. The +play, some years before, had been damned by a party on the first night. +It was revived for the benefit of the author's widow. Mrs. Piozzi +relates, that when Johnson was rallied for these exertions, so close to +one another, his answer was, "When they come to me with a dying parson, +and a dead stay-maker, what can a man do?" + +We come now to the last of his literary labours. At the request of the +booksellers, he undertook the Lives of the Poets. The first publication +was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of +that year, he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the +Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily, +unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place, +he hopes they are written in such a manner, as may tend to the promotion +of piety. That the history of so many men, who, in their different +degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written +recently after their deaths, seems to be an omission that does no honour +to the republic of letters. Their contemporaries, in general, looked on +with calm indifference, and suffered wit and genius to vanish out of the +world in total silence, unregarded and unlamented. Was there no friend +to pay the tribute of a tear? No just observer of life to record the +virtues of the deceased? Was even envy silent? It seemed to have been +agreed, that if an author's works survived, the history of the man was +to give no moral lesson to after-ages. If tradition told us that Ben +Jonson went to the Devil tavern; that Shakespeare stole deer, and held +the stirrup at play-house doors; that Dryden frequented Button's +coffee-house; curiosity was lulled asleep, and biography forgot the best +part of her function, which is, to instruct mankind by examples taken from +the school of life. This task remained for Dr. Johnson, when years had +rolled away; when the channels of information were, for the most part, +choked up, and little remained besides doubtful anecdote, uncertain +tradition, and vague report. + + "Nunc situs informis premit et deserta vetustas." + +The value of biography has been better understood in other ages, and in +other countries. Tacitus informs us, that to record the lives and +characters of illustrious men, was the practice of the Roman authors, in +the early periods of the republic. In France, the example has been +followed. Fontenelle, D'Alembert, and monsieur Thomas, have left models +in this kind of composition. They have embalmed the dead. But it is +true, that they had incitements and advantages, even at a distant day, +which could not, by any diligence, be obtained by Dr. Johnson. The wits +of France had ample materials. They lived in a nation of critics, who +had, at heart, the honour done to their country by their poets, their +heroes, and their philosophers. They had, besides, an academy of +belles-lettres, where genius was cultivated, refined, and encouraged. +They had the tracts, the essays, and dissertations, which remain in the +memoirs of the academy, and they had the speeches of the several members, +delivered at their first admission to a seat in that learned assembly. +In those speeches the new academician did ample justice to the memory of +his predecessor; and though his harangue was decorated with the colours +of eloquence, and was, for that reason, called panegyric, yet, being +pronounced before qualified judges, who knew the talents, the conduct, +and morals of the deceased, the speaker could not, with propriety, +wander into the regions of fiction. The truth was known, before it was +adorned. The academy saw the marble before the artist polished it. But +this country has had no academy of literature. The public mind, for +centuries, has been engrossed by party and faction; "by the madness of +many for the gain of a few;" by civil wars, religious dissensions, trade +and commerce, and the arts of accumulating wealth. Amidst such +attentions, who can wonder that cold praise has been often the only +reward of merit? In this country, Dr. Nathaniel Hodges, who, like the +good bishop of Marseilles, drew purer breath amidst the contagion of the +plague in London, and, during the whole time, continued in the city, +administering medical assistance, was suffered, as Johnson used to +relate, with tears in his eyes, to die for debt, in a gaol. In this +country, the man who brought the New river to London, was ruined by that +noble project; and, in this country, Otway died for want, on Tower hill; +Butler, the great author of Hudibras, whose name can only die with the +English language, was left to languish in poverty; the particulars of +his life almost unknown, and scarce a vestige of him left, except his +immortal poem. Had there been an academy of literature, the lives, at +least, of those celebrated persons, would have been written for the +benefit of posterity. Swift, it seems, had the idea of such an +institution, and proposed it to lord Oxford; but whig and tory were more +important objects. It is needless to dissemble, that Dr. Johnson, in the +life of Roscommon, talks of the inutility of such a project. "In this +country," he says, "an academy could be expected to do but little. If an +academician's place were profitable, it would be given by interest; if +attendance were gratuitous, it would be rarely paid, and no man would +endure the least disgust. Unanimity is impossible, and debate would +separate the assembly." To this it may be sufficient to answer, that the +Royal society has not been dissolved by sullen disgust; and the modern +academy, at Somerset house, has already performed much, and promises +more. Unanimity is not necessary to such an assembly. On the contrary, +by difference of opinion, and collision of sentiment, the cause of +literature would thrive and flourish. The true principles of criticism, +the secret of fine writing, the investigation of antiquities, and other +interesting subjects, might occasion a clash of opinions; but, in that +contention, truth would receive illustration, and the essays of the +several members would supply the memoirs of the academy. "But," says Dr. +Johnson, "suppose the philological decree made and promulgated, what +would be its authority? In absolute government there is, sometimes, a +general reverence paid to all that has the sanction of power the +countenance of greatness.--How little this is the state of our country, +needs not to be told. The edicts of an English academy would, probably, +be read by many, only that they may be sure to disobey them. The present +manners of the nation would deride authority, and, therefore, nothing is +left, but that every writer should criticise himself." This, surely, is +not conclusive. It is by the standard of the best writers, that every +man settles, for himself, his plan of legitimate composition; and since +the authority of superior genius is acknowledged, that authority, which +the individual obtains, would not be lessened by an association with +others of distinguished ability. It may, therefore, be inferred, that an +academy of literature would be an establishment highly useful, and an +honour to literature. In such an institution, profitable places would +not be wanted. "Vatis avarus haud facile est animus;" and the minister, +who shall find leisure, from party and faction, to carry such a scheme +into execution, will, in all probability, be respected by posterity, as +the Maecenas of letters. + +We now take leave of Dr. Johnson, as an author. Four volumes of his +Lives of the Poets were published in 1778, and the work was completed in +1781. Should biography fall again into disuse, there will not always be +a Johnson to look back through a century, and give a body of critical +and moral instruction. In April, 1781, he lost his friend Mr. Thrale. +His own words, in his diary, will best tell that melancholy event. "On +Wednesday, the 11th of April, was buried my dear friend Mr. Thrale, who +died on Wednesday, the 4th, and with him were buried many of my hopes +and pleasures. About five, I think, on Wednesday morning, he expired. I +felt almost the last flutter of his pulse, and looked, for the last +time, upon the face, that, for fifteen years before, had never been +turned upon me but with respect and benignity. Farewell: may God, that +delighteth in mercy, have had mercy on thee! I had constantly prayed for +him before his death. The decease of him, from whose friendship I had +obtained many opportunities of amusement, and to whom I turned my +thoughts, as to a refuge from misfortunes, has left me heavy. But my +business is with myself."--From the close of his last work, the malady +that persecuted him through life came upon him with alarming severity, +and his constitution declined apace. In 1782, his old friend, Levet, +expired, without warning and without a groan. Events like these reminded +Johnson of his own mortality. He continued his visits to Mrs. Thrale, at +Streatham, to the 7th day of October, 1782, when, having first composed +a prayer for the happiness of a family, with whom he had, for many +years, enjoyed the pleasures and comforts of life, he removed to his own +house in town. He says he was up early in the morning, and read +fortuitously in the Gospel, "which was his parting use of the library." +The merit of the family is manifested by the sense he had of it, and we +see his heart overflowing with gratitude. He leaves the place with +regret, and "casts a lingering look behind." + +The few remaining occurrences may be soon despatched. In the month of +June, 1783, Johnson had a paralytic stroke, which affected his speech +only. He wrote to Dr. Taylor, of Westminster; and to his friend Mr. +Allen, the printer, who lived at the next door. Dr. Brocklesby arrived +in a short time, and by his care, and that of Dr. Heberden, Johnson soon +recovered. During his illness, the writer of this narrative visited him, +and found him reading Dr. Watson's Chymistry. Articulating with +difficulty, he said, "From this book, he who knows nothing may learn a +great deal; and he who knows, will be pleased to find his knowledge +recalled to his mind in a manner highly pleasing." In the month of +August he set out for Lichfield, on a visit to Mrs. Lucy Porter, the +daughter of his wife by her first husband; and, in his way back, paid +his respects to Dr. Adams, at Oxford. Mrs. Williams died, at his house +in Bolt court, in the month of September, during his absence. This was +another shock to a mind like his, ever agitated by the thoughts of +futurity. The contemplation of his own approaching end was constantly +before his eyes; and the prospect of death, he declared, was terrible. +For many years, when he was not disposed to enter into the conversation +going forward, whoever sat near his chair, might hear him repeating, +from Shakespeare, + + "Aye, but to die, and go we know not where; + To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; + This sensible warm motion to become + A kneaded clod, and the delighted spirit + To bathe in fiery floods"-- + +And from Milton, + +--"Who would lose, + For fear of pain, this intellectual being?" + +By the death of Mrs. Williams he was left in a state of destitution, +with nobody but Frank, his black servant, to sooth his anxious moments. +In November, 1783, he was swelled from head to foot with a dropsy. Dr. +Brocklesby, with that benevolence with which he always assists his +friends, paid his visits with assiduity. The medicines prescribed were +so efficacious, that, in a few days, Johnson, while he was offering up +his prayers, was suddenly obliged to rise, and, in the course of the +day, discharged twenty pints of water. + +Johnson, being eased of his dropsy, began to entertain hopes that the +vigour of his constitution was not entirely broken. For the sake of +conversing with his friends, he established a conversation club, to meet +on every Wednesday evening; and, to serve a man whom he had known in Mr. +Thrale's household for many years, the place was fixed at his house, in +Essex street, near the Temple. To answer the malignant remarks of sir +John Hawkins, on this subject, were a wretched waste of time. Professing +to be Johnson's friend, that biographer has raised more objections to +his character, than all the enemies to that excellent man. Sir John had +a root of bitterness that "put rancours in the vessel of his peace." +Fielding, he says, was the inventor of a cant phrase, "Goodness of +heart, which means little more than the virtue of a horse or a dog." He +should have known, that kind affections are the essence of virtue: they +are the will of God implanted in our nature, to aid and strengthen moral +obligation; they incite to action: a sense of benevolence is no less +necessary than a sense of duty. Good affections are an ornament, not +only to an author, but to his writings. He who shows himself upon a cold +scent for opportunities to bark and snarl throughout a volume of six +hundred pages, may, if he will, pretend to moralise; but goodness of +heart, or, to use that politer phrase, "the virtue of a horse or a dog," +would redound more to his honour. But sir John is no more: our business +is with Johnson. The members of his club were respectable for their +rank, their talents, and their literature. They attended with +punctuality, till about Midsummer, 1784, when, with some appearance of +health, Johnson went into Derbyshire, and thence to Lichfield. While he +was in that part of the world, his friends, in town, were labouring for +his benefit. The air of a more southern climate, they thought, might +prolong a valuable life. But a pension of three hundred pounds a year +was a slender fund for a travelling valetudinarian, and it was not then +known that he had saved a moderate sum of money. Mr. Boswell and sir +Joshua Reynolds undertook to solicit the patronage of the chancellor. +With lord Thurlow, while he was at the bar, Johnson was well acquainted. +He was often heard to say, "Thurlow is a man of such vigour of mind, +that I never knew I was to meet him, but--I was going to say, I was +afraid, but that would not be true, for I never was afraid of any man; +but I never knew that I was to meet Thurlow, but I knew I had something +to encounter." The chancellor undertook to recommend Johnson's case; but +without success. To protract, if possible, the days of a man, whom he +respected, he offered to advance the sum of five hundred pounds. Being +informed of this at Lichfield, Johnson wrote the following letter: + + "MY LORD,--After a long, and not inattentive observation of mankind, + the generosity of your lordship's offer raises in me not less wonder + than gratitude. Bounty, so liberally bestowed, I should gladly + receive, if my condition made it necessary; for to such a mind who + would not be proud to own his obligations? But it has pleased God to + restore me to so great a measure of health, that, if I should now + appropriate so much of a fortune destined to do good, I could not + escape from myself the charge of advancing a false claim. My journey + to the continent, though I once thought it necessary, was never much + encouraged by my physicians; and I was very desirous that your + lordship should be told it, by sir Joshua Reynolds, as an event very + uncertain; for, if I grew much better, I should not be willing; if + much worse, I should not be able to migrate. Your lordship was first + solicited without my knowledge; but when I was told that you were + pleased to honour me with your patronage, I did not expect to hear of + a refusal; yet, as I have had no long time to brood hopes, and have + not rioted in imaginary opulence, this cold reception has been scarce + a disappointment; and from your lordship's kindness I have received a + benefit which only men, like you, are able to bestow. I shall now live + _mihi carior_, with a higher opinion of my own merit. + + I am, my lord, + + Your lordship's most obliged, + + Most grateful, and most humble servant, + + SAMUEL JOHNSON. + + September, 1784." + +We have, in this instance, the exertion of two congenial minds; one, +with a generous impulse, relieving merit in distress; and the other, by +gratitude and dignity of sentiment, rising to an equal elevation. + +It seems, however, that greatness of mind is not confined to greatness +of rank. Dr. Brocklesby was not content to assist with his medical art; +he resolved to minister to his patient's mind, and pluck from his memory +the sorrow which the late refusal from a high quarter might occasion. To +enable him to visit the south of France, in pursuit of health, he +offered, from his own funds, an annuity of one hundred pounds, payable +quarterly. This was a sweet oblivious antidote, but it was not accepted, +for the reasons assigned to the chancellor. The proposal, however, will +do honour to Dr. Brocklesby, as long as liberal sentiment shall be +ranked among the social virtues. + +In the month of October, 1784, we find Dr. Johnson corresponding with +Mr. Nichols, the intelligent compiler of the Gentleman's Magazine, and, +in the languor of sickness, still desirous to contribute all in his +power to the advancement of science and useful knowledge. He says, in a +letter to that gentleman, dated Lichfield, October 20, that "he should +be glad to give so skilful a lover of antiquities any information." He +adds, "At Ashbourne, where I had very little company, I had the luck to +borrow Mr. Bowyer's Life, a book, so full of contemporary history, that +a literary man must find some of his old friends. I thought that I +could, now and then, have told you some hints worth your notice: we, +perhaps, may talk a life over. I hope we shall be much together. You +must now be to me what you were before, and what dear Mr. Allen was +besides. He was taken unexpectedly away, but, I think, he was a very +good man. I have made very little progress in recovery. I am very weak, +and very sleepless; but I live on and hope." + +In that languid condition he arrived, on the 16th of November, at his +house in Bolt court, there to end his days. He laboured with the dropsy +and an asthma. He was attended by Dr. Heberden, Dr. Warren, Dr. +Brocklesby, Dr. Butter, and Mr. Cruikshank, the eminent surgeon. +Eternity presented to his mind an awful prospect, and, with as much +virtue as, perhaps, ever is the lot of man, he shuddered at the thought +of his dissolution. His friends awakened the comfortable reflection of a +well-spent life; and, as his end drew near, they had the satisfaction of +seeing him composed, and even cheerful, insomuch that he was able, in +the course of his restless nights, to make translations of Greek +epigrams from the Anthologia; and to compose a Latin epitaph for his +father, his mother, and his brother Nathaniel. He meditated, at the same +time, a Latin inscription to the memory of Garrick; but his vigour was +exhausted. + +His love of literature was a passion that stuck to his last sand. Seven +days before his death he wrote the following letter to his friend Mr. +Nichols: + + + + "SIR,--The late learned Mr. Swinton, of Oxford, having one day + remarked, that one man, meaning, I suppose, no man but himself, could + assign all the parts of the Ancient Universal History to their proper + authors, at the request of sir Robert Chambers, or myself, gave the + account which I now transmit to you, in his own hand, being willing + that of so great a work the history should be known, and that each + writer should receive his due proportion of praise from posterity. + + I recommend to you to preserve this scrap of literary intelligence, in + Mr. Swinton's own hand, or to deposit it in the Museum[y], that the + veracity of this account may never be doubted. + + I am, sir, + + Your most humble servant, + + SAM. JOHNSON. + + Dec. 6, 1784." + + Mr. Swinton. + + The History of the Carthaginians. + --Numidians. + --Mauritanians. + --Gaetulians. + --Garamantes. + --Melano-Gaetulians. + --Nigritae. + --Cyrenaica. + --Marmarica. + --Regio Syrtica. + --Turks, Tartars, and Moguls. + --Indians. + --Chinese. + The Dissertation on the peopling of America. + The Dissertation on the Independency of the Arabs. + The Cosmogony, and a small part of the History immediately following. + By Mr. Sale. + To the Birth of Abraham. Chiefly by Mr. Shelvock. + History of the Jews, Gauls, and Spaniards. By Mr. Psalmanazai. + Xenophon's Retreat. By the same. + History of the Persians, and the Constantinopolitan Empire. By Dr. + Campbell. + History of the Romans. By Mr. Bower[z]. + +On the morning of December 7, Dr. Johnson requested to see Mr. Nichols. +A few days before, he had borrowed some of the early volumes of the +magazine, with a professed intention to point out the pieces which he +had written in that collection. The books lay on the table, with many +leaves doubled down, and, in particular, those which contained his share +in the parliamentary debates. Such was the goodness of Johnson's heart, +that he then declared, that "those debates were the only parts of his +writings which gave him any compunction: but that, at the time he wrote +them, he had no conception that he was imposing upon the world, though +they were, frequently, written from very slender materials, and often +from none at all, the mere coinage of his own imagination." He added, +"that he never wrote any part of his work with equal velocity." "Three +columns of the magazine in an hour," he said, "was no uncommon effort; +which was faster than most persons could have transcribed that quantity. +In one day, in particular, and that not a very long one, he wrote twelve +pages, more in quantity than ever he wrote at any other time, except in +the Life of Savage, of which forty-eight pages, in octavo, were the +production of one long day, including a part of the night." + +In the course of the conversation, he asked whether any of the family of +Faden, the printer, were living. Being told that the geographer, near +Charing Cross, was Faden's son, he said, after a short pause, "I +borrowed a guinea of his father near thirty years ago; be so good as to +take this, and pay it for me." + +Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnson +recollected another debt of ten pounds, which he had borrowed from his +friend, Mr. Hamilton, the printer, about twenty years before. He sent +the money to Mr. Hamilton, at his house in Bedford row, with an apology +for the length of time. The reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the +message, about four or five days before Johnson breathed his last. + +Mr. Sastres, whom Dr. Johnson esteemed and mentioned in his will, +entered the room, during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he saw +him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a tone of lamentation, called +out, "Jam moriturus!" But the love of life was still an active +principle. Feeling himself swelled with the dropsy, he conceived that, +by incisions in his legs, the water might be discharged. Mr. Cruikshank +apprehended that a mortification might be the consequence; but, to +appease a distempered fancy, he gently lanced the surface. Johnson cried +out, "Deeper, deeper! I want length of life, and you are afraid of +giving me pain, which I do not value." + +On the 8th of December, the reverend Mr. Strahan drew his will, by +which, after a few legacies, the residue, amounting to about fifteen +hundred pounds, was bequeathed to Frank, the black servant, formerly +consigned to the testator by his friend Dr. Bathurst. + +The history of a death-bed is painful. Mr. Strahan informs us, that the +strength of religion prevailed against the infirmity of nature; and his +foreboding dread of the divine justice subsided into a pious trust, and +humble hope of mercy, at the throne of grace. On Monday, the 13th day of +December, the last of his existence on this side the grave, the desire +of life returned with all its former vehemence. He still imagined, that, +by puncturing his legs, relief might be obtained. At eight in the +morning he tried the experiment, but no water followed. In an hour or +two after, he fell into a doze, and about seven in the evening expired +without a groan. + +On the 20th of the month his remains, with due solemnities, and a +numerous attendance of his friends, were buried in Westminster abbey, +near the foot of Shakespeare's monument, and close to the grave of the +late Mr. Garrick. The funeral service was read by his friend, Dr. +Taylor. + +A black marble over his grave has the following inscription: + + SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + obiit XIII die Decembris, + Anno Domini + MDCCLXXXIV. + Aetatis suae LXXV. + +If we now look back, as from an eminence, to view the scenes of life, +and the literary labours in which Dr. Johnson was engaged, we may be +able to delineate the features of the man, and to form an estimate of +his genius. + +As a man, Dr. Johnson stands displayed in open daylight. Nothing remains +undiscovered. Whatever he said is known; and without allowing him the +usual privilege of hazarding sentiments, and advancing positions for +mere amusement, or the pleasure of discussion, criticism has endeavoured +to make him answerable for what, perhaps, he never seriously thought. +His diary, which has been printed, discovers still more. We have before +us the very heart of the man, with all his inward consciousness; and yet +neither in the open paths of life, nor in his secret recesses, has any +one vice been discovered. We see him reviewing every year of his life, +and severely censuring himself, for not keeping resolutions, which +morbid melancholy, and other bodily infirmities, rendered impracticable. +We see him, for every little defect, imposing on himself voluntary +penance, going through the day with only one cup of tea without milk, +and to the last, amidst paroxysms and remissions of illness, forming +plans of study and resolutions to amend his life[aa]. Many of his +scruples may be called weaknesses; but they are the weaknesses of a +good, a pious, and most excellent man. + +His person, it is well known, was large and unwieldy. His nerves were +affected by that disorder, for which, at two years of age, he was +presented to the royal touch. His head shook, and involuntary motions +made it uncertain that his legs and arms would, even at a tea-table, +remain in their proper place. A person of lord Chesterfield's delicacy +might, in his company, be in a fever. He would, sometimes, of his own +accord, do things inconsistent with the established modes of behaviour. +Sitting at table with the celebrated Mrs. Cholmondeley, who exerted +herself to circulate the subscription for Shakespeare, he took hold of +her hand, in the middle of dinner, and held it close to his eye, +wondering at the delicacy and whiteness, till, with a smile, she asked, +"Will he give it to me again, when he has done with it?" The exteriors +of politeness did not belong to Johnson. Even that civility, which +proceeds, or ought to proceed, from the mind, was sometimes violated. +His morbid melancholy had an effect on his temper; his passions were +irritable; and the pride of science, as well as of a fierce independent +spirit, inflamed him, on some occasions, above all bounds of moderation. +Though not in the shade of academic bowers, he led a scholastic life; +and the habit of pronouncing decisions to his friends and visitors, gave +him a dictatorial manner, which was much enforced by a voice naturally +loud, and often overstretched. Metaphysical discussion, moral theory, +systems of religion, and anecdotes of literature, were his favourite +topics. General history had little of his regard. Biography was his +delight. The proper study of mankind is man. Sooner than hear of the +Punic war, he would be rude to the person that introduced the subject. + +Johnson was born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logic +are said to be of use. In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved +argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute +discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be +refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision, both in idea and +expression, almost unequalled. When he chose, by apt illustration, to +place the argument of his adversary in a ludicrous light, one was almost +inclined to think ridicule the test of truth. He was surprised to be +told, but it is certainly true, that, with great powers of mind, wit and +humour were his shining talents. That he often argued for the sake of +triumph over his adversary, cannot be dissembled. Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, +has been heard to tell of a friend of his, who thanked him for +introducing him to Dr. Johnson, as he had been convinced, in the course +of a long dispute, that an opinion, which he had embraced as a settled +truth, was no better than a vulgar error. This being reported to +Johnson, "Nay," said he, "do not let him be thankful, for he was right, +and I was wrong." Like his uncle Andrew, in the ring at Smithfield, +Johnson, in a circle of disputants, was determined neither to be thrown +nor conquered. Notwithstanding all his piety, self-government or the +command of his passions in conversation, does not seem to have been +among his attainments. Whenever he thought the contention was for +superiority, he has been known to break out with violence, and even +ferocity. When the fray was over, he generally softened into repentance, +and, by conciliating measures, took care that no animosity should be +left rankling in the breast of his antagonist. Of this defect he seems +to have been conscious. In a letter to Mrs. Thrale, he says, "Poor +Baretti! do not quarrel with him; to neglect him a little will be +sufficient. He means only to be frank and manly and independent, and, +perhaps, as you say, a little wise. To be frank, he thinks, is to be +cynical; and to be independent, is to be rude. Forgive him, dearest +lady, the rather, because of his misbehaviour, I am afraid, he learned +part of me. I hope to set him, hereafter, a better example." For his own +intolerant and over-bearing spirit he apologized, by observing, that it +had done some good; obscenity and impiety were repressed in his company. + +It was late in life, before he had the habit of mixing, otherwise than +occasionally, with polite company. At Mr. Thrale's he saw a constant +succession of well-accomplished visiters. In that society he began to +wear off the rugged points of his own character. He saw the advantages +of mutual civility, and endeavoured to profit by the models before him. +He aimed at what has been called, by Swift, the "lesser morals," and by +Cicero, "minores virtutes." His endeavour, though new and late, gave +pleasure to all his acquaintance. Men were glad to see that he was +willing to be communicative on equal terms and reciprocal complacence. +The time was then expected, when he was to cease being what George +Garrick, brother to the celebrated actor, called him, the first time he +heard him converse, "a tremendous companion." He certainly wished to be +polite, and even thought himself so; but his civility still retained +something uncouth and harsh. His manners took a milder tone, but the +endeavour was too palpably seen. He laboured even in trifles. He was a +giant gaining a purchase to lift a feather. + +It is observed, by the younger Pliny, that "in the confines of virtue +and great qualities, there are, generally, vices of an opposite nature." +In Dr. Johnson not one ingredient can take the name of vice. From his +attainments in literature, grew the pride of knowledge; and from his +powers of reasoning, the love of disputation and the vain glory of +superior vigour.--His piety, in some instances, bordered on +superstition. He was willing to believe in preternatural agency, and +thought it not more strange, that there should be evil spirits than evil +men. Even the question about second sight held him in suspense. "Second +sight," Mr. Pennant tells us, "is a power of seeing images impressed on +the organs of sight, by the power of fancy; or on the fancy, by the +disordered spirits operating on the mind. It is the faculty of seeing +spectres or visions, which represent an event actually passing at a +distance, or likely to happen at a future day. In 1771, a gentleman, the +last who was supposed to be possessed of this faculty, had a boat at +sea, in a tempestuous night, and, being anxious for his freight, +suddenly started up, and said his men would be drowned, for he had seen +them pass before him with wet garments and dropping locks. The event +corresponded with his disordered fancy. And thus," continues Mr. +Pennant, "a distempered imagination, clouded with anxiety, may make an +impression on the spirits; as persons, restless, and troubled with +indignation, see various forms and figures, while they lie awake in +bed." This is what Dr. Johnson was not willing to reject. He wished for +some positive proof of communications with another world. His +benevolence embraced the whole race of man, and yet was tinctured with +particular prejudices. He was pleased with the minister in the isle of +Skie, and loved him so much, that he began to wish him not a +presbyterian. To that body of dissenters his zeal for the established +church, made him, in some degree, an adversary; and his attachment to a +mixed and limited monarchy, led him to declare open war against what he +called a sullen republican. He would rather praise a man of Oxford than +of Cambridge. He disliked a whig, and loved a tory. These were the +shades of his character, which it has been the business of certain +party-writers to represent in the darkest colours. + +Since virtue, or moral goodness, consists in a just conformity of our +actions to the relations, in which we stand to the supreme being and to +our fellow-creatures, where shall we find a man who has been, or +endeavoured to be, more diligent in the discharge of those essential +duties? His first prayer was composed in 1738; he continued those +fervent ejaculations of piety to the end of his life. In his Meditations +we see him scrutinizing himself with severity, and aiming at perfection +unattainable by man. His duty to his neighbour consisted in universal +benevolence, and a constant aim at the production of happiness. Who was +more sincere and steady in his friendships? It has been said, that there +was no real affection between him and Garrick. On the part of the +latter, there might be some corrosions of jealousy. The character of +Prospero, in the Rambler, No. 200, was, beyond all question, occasioned +by Garrick's ostentatious display of furniture and Dresden china. It was +surely fair to take, from this incident, a hint for a moral essay; and, +though no more was intended, Garrick, we are told, remembered it with +uneasiness. He was also hurt, that his Lichfield friend did not think so +highly of his dramatic art, as the rest of the world. The fact was, +Johnson could not see the passions, as they rose, and chased one +another, in the varied features of that expressive face; and, by his own +manner of reciting verses, which was wonderfully impressive, he plainly +showed, that he thought, there was too much of artificial tone and +measured cadence, in the declamation of the theatre. The present writer +well remembers being in conversation with Dr. Johnson, near the side of +the scenes, during the tragedy of King Lear: when Garrick came off the +stage, he said, "You two talk so loud, you destroy all my feelings." +"Prithee," replied Johnson, "do not talk of feelings, Punch has no +feelings." This seems to have been his settled opinion; admirable as +Garrick's imitation of nature always was, Johnson thought it no better +than mere mimickry. Yet, it is certain, that he esteemed and loved +Garrick; that he dwelt with pleasure on his praise; and used to declare, +that he deserved his great success, because, on all applications for +charity, he gave more than was asked. After Garrick's death, he never +talked of him, without a tear in his eye. He offered, if Mrs. Garrick +would desire it of him, to be the editor of his works, and the historian +of his life[bb]. It has been mentioned, that, on his death-bed, he +thought of writing a Latin inscription to the memory of his friend. +Numbers are still living who know these facts, and still remember, with +gratitude, the friendship which he showed to them, with unaltered +affection, for a number of years. His humanity and generosity, in +proportion to his slender income, were unbounded. It has been truly +said, that the lame, the blind, and the sorrowful, found, in his house, +a sure retreat. A strict adherence to truth he considered as a sacred +obligation, insomuch that, in relating the most minute anecdote, he +would not allow himself the smallest addition to embellish his story. +The late Mr. Tyers, who knew Dr. Johnson intimately, observed, "that he +always talked, as if he was talking upon oath." + +After a long acquaintance with this excellent man, and an attentive +retrospect to his whole conduct, such is the light in which he appears +to the writer of this essay. The following lines of Horace, may be +deemed his picture in miniature: + + "Iracundior est paulo? minus aptus acutis + Naribus horum hominum? rideri possit, eo quod + Rusticius tonso toga defluit, et male laxus + In pede calceus haeret? At est bonus, ut melior vir + Non alius quisquam: at tibi amicus: at ingenium ingens + Inculto latet hoc sub corpore." + + "Your friend is passionate, perhaps unfit + For the brisk petulance of modern wit. + His hair ill-cut, his robe, that awkward flows, + Or his large shoes, to raillery expose + The man you love; yet is he not possess'd + Of virtues, with which very few are blest? + While underneath this rude, uncouth disguise, + A genius of extensive knowledge lies." + +Francis's Hor. book i. sat. 3. + +It remains to give a review of Johnson's works; and this, it is +imagined, will not be unwelcome to the reader. + +Like Milton and Addison, he seems to have been fond of his Latin poetry. +Those compositions show, that he was an early scholar; but his verses +have not the graceful ease, that gave so much suavity to the poems of +Addison. The translation of the Messiah labours under two disadvantages: +it is first to be compared with Pope's inimitable performance, and +afterwards with the Pollio of Virgil. It may appear trifling to remark, +that he has made the letter _o_, in the word _virgo_, long and short in +the same line: "Virgo, virgo parit." But the translation has great +merit, and some admirable lines. In the odes there is a sweet +flexibility, particularly--to his worthy friend Dr. Lawrence; on himself +at the theatre, March 8, 1771; the ode in the isle of Skie; and that to +Mrs. Thrale, from the same place. + +His English poetry is such as leaves room to think, if he had devoted +himself to the muses, that he would have been the rival of Pope. His +first production, in this kind, was London, a poem in imitation of the +third satire of Juvenal. The vices of the metropolis are placed in the +room of ancient manners. The author had heated his mind with the ardour +of Juvenal, and, having the skill to polish his numbers, he became a +sharp accuser of the times. The Vanity of Human Wishes, is an imitation +of the tenth satire of the same author. Though it is translated by +Dryden, Johnson's imitation approaches nearest to the spirit of the +original. The subject is taken from the Alcibiades of Plato, and has an +intermixture of the sentiments of Socrates, concerning the object of +prayers offered up to the deity. The general proposition is, that good +and evil are so little understood by mankind, that their wishes, when +granted, are always destructive. This is exemplified in a variety of +instances, such as riches, state-preferment, eloquence, military glory, +long life, and the advantages of form and beauty. Juvenal's conclusion +is worthy of a christian poet, and such a pen as Johnson's. "Let us," he +says, "leave it to the gods to judge what is fittest for us. Man is +dearer to his creator than to himself. If we must pray for special +favour, let it be for a sound mind in a sound body. Let us pray for +fortitude, that we may think the labours of Hercules, and all his +sufferings, preferable to a life of luxury, and the soft repose of +Sardanapalus. This is a blessing within the reach of every man; this we +can give ourselves. It is virtue, and virtue only, that can make us +happy." In the translation, the zeal of the christian conspired with the +warmth and energy of the poet; but Juvenal is not eclipsed. For the +various characters in the original, the reader is pleased, in the +English poem, to meet with cardinal Wolsey, Buckingham stabbed by +Felton, lord Strafford, Clarendon, Charles the twelfth of Sweden; and +for Tully and Demosthenes, Lydiat, Galileo, and archbishop Laud. It is +owing to Johnson's delight in biography, that the name of Lydiat is +called forth from obscurity. It may, therefore, not be useless to tell, +that Lydiat was a learned divine and mathematician in the beginning of +the last century. He attacked the doctrine of Aristotle and Scaliger, +and wrote a number of sermons on the harmony of the evangelists. With +all his merit, he lay in the prison of Bocardo, at Oxford, till bishop +Usher, Laud, and others, paid his debts. He petitioned Charles the first +to be sent to Ethiopia, to procure manuscripts. Having spoken in favour +of monarchy and bishops, he was plundered by the puritans, and twice +carried away, a prisoner, from his rectory. He died, very poor, in 1646. + +The tragedy of Irene is founded on a passage in Knolles's History of the +Turks; an author highly commended in the Rambler, No. 122. An incident +in the life of Mahomet the great, first emperor of the Turks, is the +hinge on which the fable is made to move. The substance of the story is +shortly this: In 1453, Mahomet laid siege to Constantinople, and having +reduced the place, became enamoured of a fair Greek, whose name was +Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the law of the prophet, and to +grace his throne. Enraged at this intended marriage, the janizaries +formed a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor. To avert the impending +danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, "catching with one +hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the hair of her head, +and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one blow, struck off her +head, to the great terror of them all; and, having so done, said unto +them: 'Now by this, judge whether your emperor is able to bridle his +affections or not.'" The story is simple, and it remained for the author +to amplify it, with proper episodes, and give it complication and +variety. The catastrophe is changed, and horror gives place to terror +and pity. But, after all, the fable is cold and languid. There is not, +throughout the piece, a single situation to excite curiosity, and raise +a conflict of passions. The diction is nervous, rich, and elegant; but +splendid language, and melodious numbers, will make a fine poem--not a +tragedy. The sentiments are beautiful, always happily expressed, but +seldom appropriated to the character, and generally too philosophic. +What Johnson has said of the tragedy of Cato, may be applied to Irene: +"It is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama; rather a succession of +just sentiments, in elegant language, than a representation of natural +affections. Nothing excites or assuages emotion. The events are expected +without solicitude, and are remembered without joy or sorrow. Of the +agents we have no care; we consider not what they are doing, nor what +they are suffering; we wish only to know, what they have to say. It is +unaffecting elegance, and chill philosophy." The following speech, in +the mouth of a Turk, who is supposed to have heard of the British +constitution, has been often selected from the numberless beauties with +which Irene abounds: + + "If there be any land, as fame reports, + Where common laws restrain the prince and subject; + A happy land, where circulating power + Flows through each member of th' embodied state, + Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, + Her grateful sons shine bright with ev'ry virtue; + Untainted with the LUST OF INNOVATION; + Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule, + Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature, + That links the jarring elements in peace." + +These are British sentiments. Above forty years ago, they found an echo +in the breast of applauding audiences; and to this hour they are the +voice of the people, in defiance of the metaphysics, and the new lights +of certain politicians, who would gladly find their private advantage in +the disasters of their country; a race of men, "quibus nulla ex honesto +spes." + +The prologue to Irene is written with elegance, and, in a peculiar +style, shows the literary pride and lofty spirit of the author. The +epilogue, we are told, in a late publication, was written by sir William +Yonge. This is a new discovery, but by no means probable. When the +appendages to a dramatic performance are not assigned to a friend, or an +unknown hand, or a person of fashion, they are always supposed to be +written by the author of the play. It is to be wished, however, that the +epilogue, in question, could be transferred to any other writer. It is +the worst jeu d'esprit that ever fell from Johnson's pen[cc]. + +An account of the various pieces contained in this edition, such as +miscellaneous tracts, and philological dissertations, would lead beyond +the intended limits of this essay. It will suffice to say, that they are +the productions of a man, who never wanted decorations of language, and +always taught his reader to think. The life of the late king of Prussia, +as far as it extends, is a model of the biographical style. The review +of the Origin of Evil was, perhaps, written with asperity; but the angry +epitaph which it provoked from Soame Jenyns, was an ill-timed +resentment, unworthy of the genius of that amiable author. + +The Rambler may be considered, as Johnson's great work. It was the basis +of that high reputation, which went on increasing to the end of his +days. The circulation of those periodical essays was not, at first, +equal to their merit. They had not, like the Spectators, the art of +charming by variety; and, indeed, how could it be expected? The wits of +queen Anne's reign sent their contributions to the Spectator; and +Johnson stood alone. A stagecoach, says sir Richard Steele, must go +forward on stated days, whether there are passengers or not. So it was +with the Rambler, every Tuesday and Saturday, for two years. In this +collection Johnson is the great moral teacher of his countrymen; his +essays form a body of ethics; the observations on life and manners, are +acute and instructive; and the papers, professedly critical, serve to +promote the cause of literature. It must, however, be acknowledged, that +a settled gloom hangs over the author's mind; and all the essays, except +eight or ten, coming from the same fountain-head, no wonder that they +have the raciness of the soil from which they sprang. Of this uniformity +Johnson was sensible. He used to say, that if he had joined a friend or +two, who would have been able to intermix papers of a sprightly turn, +the collection would have been more miscellaneous, and, by consequence, +more agreeable to the generality of readers. This he used to illustrate +by repeating two beautiful stanzas from his own ode to Cave, or Sylvanus +Urban: + + "Non ulla musis pagina gratior, + Quam quae severis ludicra jungere + Novit, fatigatamque nugis + Utilibus recreare mentem. + + Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, + Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat + Iramista, sic Iris refulget + Aethereis variata fucis." + +It is remarkable, that the pomp of diction, which has been objected to +Johnson, was first assumed in the Rambler. His Dictionary was going on +at the same time, and, in the course of that work, as he grew familiar +with technical and scholastic words, he thought that the bulk of his +readers were equally learned; or, at least, would admire the splendour +and dignity of the style. And yet it is well known, that he praised, in +Cowley, the ease and unaffected structure of the sentences. Cowley may +be placed at the head of those who cultivated a clear and natural style. +Dryden, Tillotson, and sir William Temple followed. Addison, Swift, and +Pope, with more correctness, carried our language well nigh to +perfection. Of Addison, Johnson was used to say, "he is the Raphael of +essay writers." How he differed so widely from such elegant models, is a +problem not to be solved, unless it be true, that he took an early +tincture from the writers of the last century, particularly sir Thomas +Browne. Hence the peculiarities of his style, new combinations, +sentences of an unusual structure, and words derived from the learned +languages. His own account of the matter is: "When common words were +less pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in their signification, I +familiarized the terms of philosophy, by applying them to popular +ideas." But he forgot the observation of Dryden: "If too many foreign +words are poured in upon us, it looks, as if they were designed, not to +assist the natives, but to conquer them." There is, it must be admitted, +a swell of language, often out of all proportion to the sentiment; but +there is, in general, a fulness of mind, and the thought seems to expand +with the sound of the words. Determined to discard colloquial barbarisms +and licentious idioms, he forgot the elegant simplicity that +distinguishes the writings of Addison. He had, what Locke calls, a +round-about view of his subject; and, though he never was tainted, like +many modern wits, with the ambition of shining in paradox, he may be +fairly called an original thinker. His reading was extensive. He +treasured in his mind whatever was worthy of notice, but he added to it +from his own meditation. He collected, "quae reconderet, auetaque +promeret." Addison was not so profound a thinker. He was "born to write, +converse, and live with ease;" and he found an early patron in lord +Somers. He depended, however, more upon a fine taste than the vigour of +his mind. His Latin poetry shows, that he relished, with a just +selection, all the refined and delicate beauties of the Roman classics; +and, when he cultivated his native language, no wonder that he formed +that graceful style, which has been so justly admired; simple, yet +elegant; adorned, yet never over-wrought; rich in allusion, yet pure and +perspicuous; correct, without labour; and though, sometimes, deficient +in strength, yet always musical. His essays, in general, are on the +surface of life; if ever original, it was in pieces of humour. Sir Roger +de Coverly, and the tory fox-hunter, need not to be mentioned. Johnson +had a fund of humour, but he did not know it; nor was he willing to +descend to the familiar idiom, and the variety of diction, which that +mode of composition required. The letter, in the Rambler, No. 12, from a +young girl that wants a place, will illustrate this observation. Addison +possessed an unclouded imagination, alive to the first objects of nature +and of art. He reaches the sublime without any apparent effort. When he +tells us, "If we consider the fixed stars as so many oceans of flame, +that are each of them attended with a different set of planets; if we +still discover new firmaments, and new lights, that are sunk further in +those unfathomable depths of ether; we are lost in a labyrinth of suns +and worlds, and confounded with the magnificence and immensity of +nature;" the ease, with which this passage rises to unaffected grandeur, +is the secret charm that captivates the reader. Johnson is always lofty; +he seems, to use Dryden's phrase, to be "o'erinform'd with meaning," and +his words do not appear to himself adequate to his conception. He moves +in state, and his periods are always harmonious. His Oriental Tales are +in the true style of eastern magnificence, and yet none of them are so +much admired, as the Visions of Mirza. In matters of criticism, Johnson +is never the echo of preceding writers. He thinks, and decides, for +himself. If we except the essays on the Pleasures of Imagination, +Addison cannot be called a philosophical critic. His moral essays are +beautiful; but in that province nothing can exceed the Rambler, though +Johnson used to say, that the essay on "the burthens of mankind," (in +the Spectator, No. 558,) was the most exquisite he had ever read. +Talking of himself, Johnson said, "Topham Beauclerk has wit, and every +thing comes from him with ease; but when I say a good thing, I seem to +labour." When we compare him with Addison, the contrast is still +stronger: Addison lends grace and ornament to truth; Johnson gives it +force and energy. Addison makes virtue amiable; Johnson represents it as +an awful duty: Addison insinuates himself with an air of modesty; +Johnson commands like a dictator; but a dictator in his splendid robes, +not labouring at the plough: Addison is the Jupiter of Virgil, with +placid serenity talking to Venus, + + "Vultu, quo coelum tempestatesque serenat." + +Johnson is Jupiter Tonans: he darts his lightning and rolls his thunder, +in the cause of virtue and piety. The language seems to fall short of +his ideas; he pours along, familiarizing the terms of philosophy, with +bold inversions, and sonorous periods; but we may apply to him, what +Pope has said of Homer: "It is the sentiment that swells and fills out +the diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it: like glass +in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, as the breath within +is more powerful, and the heat more intense." + +It is not the design of this comparison to decide between these two +eminent writers. In matters of taste every reader will choose for +himself. Johnson is always profound, and, of course, gives the fatigue +of thinking. Addison charms, while he instructs; and writing, as he +always does, a pure, an elegant, and idiomatic style, he may be +pronounced the safest model for imitation. + +The essays written by Johnson in the Adventurer, may be called a +continuation of the Rambler. The Idler, in order to be consistent with +the assumed character, is written with abated vigour, in a style of ease +and unlaboured elegance. It is the Odyssey, after the Iliad. Intense +thinking would not become the Idler. The first number presents a well-drawn +portrait of an Idler, and from that character no deviation could +be made. Accordingly, Johnson forgets his austere manner, and plays us +into sense. He still continues his lectures on human life, but he +adverts to common occurrences, and is often content with the topic of +the day. An advertisement in the beginning of the first volume informs +us, that twelve entire essays were a contribution from different hands. +One of these, No. 33, is the journal of a senior fellow, at Cambridge, +but, as Johnson, being himself an original thinker, always revolted from +servile imitation, he has printed the piece with an apology, importing, +that the journal of a citizen, in the Spectator, almost precluded the +attempt of any subsequent writer. This account of the Idler may be +closed, after observing, that the author's mother being buried on the +23rd of January, 1759, there is an admirable paper occasioned by that +event, on Saturday, the 27th of the same month, No. 41. The reader, if +he pleases, may compare it with another fine paper in the Rambler, No. +54, on the conviction that rushes on the mind at the bed of a dying +friend. + +"Rasselas," says sir John Hawkins, "is a specimen of our language +scarcely to be paralleled; it is written in a style refined to a degree +of immaculate purity, and displays the whole force of turgid eloquence." +One cannot but smile at this encomium. Rasselas, is, undoubtedly, both +elegant and sublime. It is a view of human life, displayed, it must be +owned, in gloomy colours. The author's natural melancholy, depressed, at +the time, by the approaching dissolution of his mother, darkened the +picture. A tale, that should keep curiosity awake by the artifice of +unexpected incidents, was not the design of a mind pregnant with better +things. He, who reads the heads of the chapters, will find, that it is +not a course of adventures that invites him forward, but a discussion of +interesting questions; reflections on human life; the history of Imlac, +the man of learning; a dissertation upon poetry; the character of a wise +and happy man, who discourses, with energy, on the government of the +passions, and, on a sudden, when death deprives him of his daughter, +forgets all his maxims of wisdom, and the eloquence that adorned them, +yielding to the stroke of affliction, with all the vehemence of the +bitterest anguish. It is by pictures of life, and profound moral +reflection, that expectation is engaged, and gratified throughout the +work. The history of the mad astronomer, who imagines that, for five +years, he possessed the regulation of the weather, and that the sun +passed, from tropic to tropic, by his direction, represents, in striking +colours, the sad effects of a distempered imagination. It becomes the +more affecting when we recollect, that it proceeds from one who lived in +fear of the same dreadful visitation; from one who says emphatically: +"Of the uncertainties in our present state, the most dreadful and +alarming is the uncertain continuance of reason." The inquiry into the +cause of madness, and the dangerous prevalence of imagination, till, in +time, some particular train of ideas fixes the attention, and the mind +recurs constantly to the favourite conception, is carried on in a strain +of acute observation; but it leaves us room to think, that the author +was transcribing from his own apprehensions. The discourse on the nature +of the soul, gives us all that philosophy knows, not without a tincture +of superstition. It is remarkable, that the vanity of human pursuits +was, about the same time, the subject that employed both Johnson and +Voltaire; but Candide is the work of a lively imagination; and Rasselas, +with all its splendour of eloquence, exhibits a gloomy picture. It +should, however, be remembered, that the world has known the weeping, as +well as the laughing philosopher. + +The Dictionary does not properly fall within the province of this essay. +The preface, however, will be found in this edition. He who reads the +close of it, without acknowledging the force of the pathethic and +sublime, must have more insensibility in his composition, than usually +falls to the share of a man. The work itself, though, in some instances, +abuse has been loud, and, in others, malice has endeavoured to undermine +its fame, still remains the MOUNT ATLAS of English literature. + + "Though storms and tempests thunder on its brow, + And oceans break their billows at its feet, + It stands unmov'd, and glories in its height." + +That Johnson was eminently qualified for the office of a commentator on +Shakespeare, no man can doubt; but it was an office which he never +cordially embraced. The public expected more than he had diligence to +perform; and yet his edition has been the ground, on which every +subsequent commentator has chosen to build. One note, for its +singularity, may be thought worthy of notice in this place. Hamlet says, +"For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god-kissing +carrion." In this Warburton discovered the origin of evil. Hamlet, he +says, breaks off in the middle of the sentence; but the learned +commentator knows what he was going to say, and, being unwilling to keep +the secret, he goes on in a train of philosophical reasoning, that +leaves the reader in astonishment. Johnson, with true piety, adopts the +fanciful hypothesis, declaring it to be a noble emendation, which almost +sets the critic on a level with the author. The general observations at +the end of the several plays, and the preface, will be found in this +edition. The former, with great elegance and precision, give a summary +view of each drama. The preface is a tract of great erudition and +philosophical criticism. + +Johnson's political pamphlets, whatever was his motive for writing them, +whether gratitude for his pension, or the solicitation of men in power, +did not support the cause for which they were undertaken. They are +written in a style truly harmonious, and with his usual dignity of +language. When it is said that he advanced positions repugnant to the +"common rights of mankind," the virulence of party may be suspected. It +is, perhaps, true, that in the clamour, raised throughout the kingdom, +Johnson overheated his mind; but he was a friend to the rights of man, +and he was greatly superior to the littleness of spirit, that might +incline him to advance what he did not think and firmly believe. In the +False Alarm, though many of the most eminent men in the kingdom +concurred in petitions to the throne, yet Johnson, having well surveyed +the mass of the people, has given, with great humour, and no less truth, +what may be called, "the birth, parentage, and education of a +remonstrance." On the subject of Falkland's islands, the fine dissuasive +from too hastily involving the world in the calamities of war, must +extort applause even from the party that wished, at that time, for +scenes of tumult and commotion. It was in the same pamphlet, that +Johnson offered battle to Junius, a writer, who, by the uncommon +elegance of his style, charmed every reader, though his object was to +inflame the nation in favour of a faction. Junius fought in the dark; he +saw his enemy, and had his full blow; while he himself remained safe in +obscurity. "But let us not," said Johnson, "mistake the venom of the +shaft, for the vigour of the bow." The keen invective which he +published, on that occasion, promised a paper war between two +combatants, who knew the use of their weapons. A battle between them was +as eagerly expected, as between Mendoza and Big Ben. But Junius, +whatever was his reason, never returned to the field. He laid down his +arms, and has, ever since, remained as secret as the man in the mask, in +Voltaire's history. + +The account of his journey to the Hebrides, or western isles of +Scotland, is a model for such as shall, hereafter, relate their travels. +The author did not visit that part of the world in the character of an +antiquary, to amuse us with wonders taken from the dark and fabulous +ages; nor, as a mathematician, to measure a degree, and settle the +longitude and latitude of the several islands. Those, who expected such +information, expected what was never intended. "In every work regard the +writer's end." Johnson went to see men and manners, modes of life, and +the progress of civilization. His remarks are so artfully blended with +the rapidity and elegance of his narrative, that the reader is inclined +to wish, as Johnson did, with regard to Gray, that "to travel, and to +tell his travels, had been more of his employment." + +As to Johnson's Parliamentary Debates, nothing, with propriety, can be +said in this place. They are collected, in two volumes, by Mr. +Stockdale, and the flow of eloquence which runs through the several +speeches, is sufficiently known. + +It will not be useless to mention two more volumes, which may form a +proper supplement to this edition. They contain a set of sermons, left +for publication by John Taylor, LL.D. The reverend Mr. Hayes, who +ushered these discourses into the world, has not given them, as the +composition of Dr. Taylor. All he could say for his departed friend was, +that he left them, in silence, among his papers. Mr. Hayes knew them to +be the production of a superior mind; and the writer of these memoirs +owes it to the candour of that elegant scholar, that he is now warranted +to give an additional proof of Johnson's ardour in the cause of piety, +and every moral duty. The last discourse in the collection was intended +to be delivered by Dr. Taylor, at the funeral of Johnson's wife; but +that reverend gentleman declined the office, because, as he told Mr. +Hayes, the praise of the deceased was too much amplified. He, who reads +the piece, will find it a beautiful moral lesson, written with temper, +and nowhere overcharged with ambitious ornaments. The rest of the +discourses were the fund, which Dr. Taylor, from time to time, carried +with him to his pulpit. He had the _largest bull_[dd] in England, and +some of the best sermons. + +We come now to the Lives of the Poets, a work undertaken at the age of +seventy, yet, the most brilliant, and, certainly, the most popular, of +all our author's writings. For this performance he needed little +preparation. Attentive always to the history of letters, and, by his own +natural bias, fond of biography, he was the more willing to embrace the +proposition of the booksellers. He was versed in the whole body of +English poetry, and his rules of criticism were settled with precision. +The dissertation, in the life of Cowley, on the metaphysical poets of +the last century, has the attraction of novelty, as well as sound +observation. The writers, who followed Dr. Donne, went in quest of +something better than truth and nature. As Sancho says, in Don Quixote, +they wanted better bread than is made with wheat. They took pains to +bewilder themselves, and were ingenious for no other purpose than to +err. In Johnson's review of Cowley's works, false wit is detected in all +its shapes, and the Gothic taste for glittering conceits, and far-fetched +allusions, is exploded, never, it is hoped, to revive again. + +An author who has published his observations on the Life and Writings of +Dr. Johnson, speaking of the Lives of the Poets, says, "These +compositions, abounding in strong and acute remark, and with many fine, +and even sublime, passages, have, unquestionably, great merit; but, if +they be regarded, merely as containing narrations of the lives, +delineations of the characters, and strictures of the several authors, +they are far from being always to be depended on." He adds: "The +characters are sometimes partial, and there is, sometimes, too much +malignity of misrepresentation, to which, perhaps, may be joined no +inconsiderable portion of erroneous criticism." The several clauses of +this censure deserve to be answered, as fully as the limits of this +essay will permit. + +In the first place, the facts are related upon the best intelligence, +and the best vouchers that could be gleaned, after a great lapse of +time. Probability was to be inferred from such materials, as could be +procured, and no man better understood the nature of historical evidence +than Dr. Johnson; no man was more religiously an observer of truth. If +his history is any where defective, it must be imputed to the want of +better information, and the errors of uncertain tradition. + + "Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura." + +If the strictures on the works of the various authors are not always +satisfactory, and if erroneous criticism may sometimes be suspected, who +can hope, that in matters of taste, all shall agree? The instances, in +which the public mind has differed, from the positions advanced by the +author, are few in number. It has been said, that justice has not been +done to Swift; that Gay and Prior are undervalued; and that Gray has +been harshly treated. This charge, perhaps, ought not to be disputed. +Johnson, it is well known, had conceived a prejudice against Swift. His +friends trembled for him, when he was writing that life, but were +pleased, at last, to see it executed with temper and moderation. As to +Prior, it is probable that he gave his real opinion, but an opinion that +will not be adopted by men of lively fancy. With regard to Gray, when he +condemns the apostrophe, in which father Thames is desired to tell who +drives the hoop, or tosses the ball, and then adds, that father Thames +had no better means of knowing than himself; when he compares the abrupt +beginning of the first stanza of the bard, to the ballad of Johnny +Armstrong, "Is there ever a man in all Scotland;" there are, perhaps, +few friends of Johnson, who would not wish to blot out both the +passages. + +It may be questioned, whether the remarks on Pope's Essay on Man can be +received, without great caution. It has been already mentioned, that +Crousaz, a professor in Switzerland, eminent for his Treatise of Logic, +started up a professed enemy to that poem. Johnson says, "his mind was +one of those, in which philosophy and piety are happily united. He +looked, with distrust, upon all metaphysical systems of theology, and +was persuaded, that the positions of Pope were intended to draw mankind +away from revelation, and to represent the whole course of things, as a +necessary concatenation of indissoluble fatality." This is not the place +fur a controversy about the Leibnitzian system. Warburton, with all the +powers of his large and comprehensive mind, published a vindication of +Pope; and yet Johnson says, that, "in many passages, a religious eye may +easily discover expressions not very favourable to morals, or to +liberty." This sentence is severe, and, perhaps, dogmatical. Crousaz +wrote an Examen of the Essay on Man, and, afterwards, a commentary on +every remarkable passage; and, though it now appears, that Mrs. +Elizabeth Carter translated the foreign critic, yet it is certain, that +Johnson encouraged the work, and, perhaps, imbibed those early +prejudices, which adhered to him to the end of his life. He shuddered at +the idea of irreligion. Hence, we are told, in the life of Pope, "Never +were penury of knowledge, and vulgarity of sentiment, so happily +disguised; Pope, in the chair of wisdom, tells much that every man +knows, and much that he did not know himself; and gives us comfort in +the position, that though man's a fool, yet God is wise; that human +advantages are unstable; that our true honour is, not to have a great +part, but to act it well; that virtue only is our own, and that +happiness is always in our power." The reader, when he meets all this in +its new array, no longer knows the talk of his mother and his nurse. +But, may it not be said, that every system of ethics must, or ought, to +terminate, in plain and general maxims for the use of life? and, though +in such anxioms no discovery is made, does not the beauty of the moral +theory consist in the premises, and the chain of reasoning that leads to +the conclusion? May not truth, as Johnson himself says, be conveyed to +the mind by a new train of intermediate images? Pope's doctrine, about +the ruling passion, does not seem to be refuted, though it is called, in +harsh terms, pernicious, as well as false, tending to establish a kind +of moral predestination, or overruling principle, which cannot be +resisted. But Johnson was too easily alarmed in the cause of religion. +Organized as the human race is, individuals have different inlets of +perception, different powers of mind, and different sensations of +pleasure and pain. + + "All spread their charms, but charm not all alike, + On different senses different objects strike: + Hence different passions more or less inflame, + As strong or weak the organs of the frame. + And hence one master-passion in the breast, + Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest." + +Brumoy says, Pascal, from his infancy, felt himself a geometrician; and +Vandyke, in like manner, was a painter. Shakespeare, who, of all poets, +had the deepest insight into human nature, was aware of a prevailing +bias in the operations of every mind. By him we are told, "Masterless +passion sways us to the mood of what it likes or loathes." + +It remains to inquire, whether, in the lives before us, the characters +are partial, and too often drawn with malignity of misrepresentation? To +prove this, it is alleged, that Johnson has misrepresented the +circumstances relative to the translation of the first Iliad, and +maliciously ascribed that performance to Addison, instead of Tickell, +with too much reliance on the testimony of Pope, taken from the account +in the papers left by Mr. Spence. For a refutation of the fallacy +imputed to Addison, we are referred to a note in the Biographia +Britannica, written by the late judge Blackstone, who, it is said, +examined the whole matter with accuracy, and found, that the first +regular statement of the accusation against Addison, was published by +Ruffhead, in his life of Pope, from the materials which he received from +Dr. Warburton. But, with all due deference to the learned judge, whose +talents deserve all praise, this account is by no means accurate. + +Sir Richard Steele, in a dedication of the comedy of the Drummer, to Mr. +Congreve, gave the first insight into that business. He says, in a style +of anger and resentment: "If that gentleman (Mr. Tickell) thinks himself +injured, I will allow I have wronged him upon this issue, that, if the +reputed translator of the first book of Homer shall please to give us +another book, there shall appear another good judge in poetry, besides +Mr. Alexander Pope, who shall like it." The authority of Steele +outweighs all opinions, founded on vain conjecture, and, indeed, seems +to be decisive, since we do not find that Tickell, though warmly +pressed, thought proper to vindicate himself. + +But the grand proof of Johnson's malignity, is the manner in which he +has treated the character and conduct of Milton. To enforce this charge +has wearied sophistry, and exhausted the invention of a party. What they +cannot deny, they palliate; what they cannot prove, they say is +probable. But why all this rage against Dr. Johnson? Addison, before +him, had said of Milton: + + "Oh! had the poet ne'er profan'd his pen, + To varnish o'er the guilt of faithless men!" + +And had not Johnson an equal right to avow his sentiments? Do his +enemies claim a privilege to abuse whatever is valuable to Englishmen, +either in church or state? and must the liberty of unlicensed printing +be denied to the friends of the British constitution? + +It is unnecessary to pursue the argument through all its artifices, +since, dismantled of ornament and seducing language, the plain truth may +be stated in a narrow compass. Johnson knew that Milton was a +republican: he says, "an acrimonious and surly republican, for which it +is not known that he gave any better reason than, that a popular +government was the most frugal; for the trappings of a monarchy would +set up an ordinary commonwealth." Johnson knew that Milton talked aloud +"of the danger of readmitting kingship in this nation;" and when Milton +adds, "that a commonwealth was commended, or rather enjoined, by our +Saviour himself, to all christians, not without a remarkable +disallowance, and the brand of gentilism upon kingship," Johnson thought +him no better than a wild enthusiast. He knew, as well as Milton, "that +the happiness of a nation must needs be firmest and certainest in a full +and free council of their own electing, where no single person, but +reason only, sways;" but the example of all the republicks, recorded in +the annals of mankind, gave him no room to hope, that reason only would +be heard. He knew, that the republican form of government, having little +or no complication, and no consonance of parts, by a nice mechanism +forming a regular whole, was too simple to be beautiful, even in theory. +In practice it, perhaps, never existed. In its most flourishing state, +at Athens, Rome, and Carthage, it was a constant scene of tumult and +commotion. From the mischiefs of a wild democracy, the progress has ever +been to the dominion of an aristocracy; and the word aristocracy, +fatally includes the boldest and most turbulent citizens, who rise by +their crimes, and call themselves the best men in the state. By +intrigue, by cabal, and faction, a pernicious oligarchy is sure to +succeed, and end, at last, in the tyranny of a single ruler. Tacitus, +the great master of political wisdom, saw, under the mixed authority of +king, nobles, and people, a better form of government than Milton's +boasted republick; and what Tacitus admired in theory, but despaired of +enjoying, Johnson saw established in this country. He knew that it had +been overturned by the rage of frantic men; but he knew that, after the +iron rod of Cromwell's usurpation, the constitution was once more +restored to its first principles. Monarchy was established, and this +country was regenerated. It was regenerated a second time, at the +revolution: the rights of men were then defined, and the blessings of +good order, and civil liberty, have been ever since diffused through the +whole community. + +The peace and happiness of society were what Dr. Johnson had at heart. +He knew that Milton called his defence of the regicides, a defence of +the people of England; but, however glossed and varnished, he thought it +an apology for murder. Had the men, who, under a show of liberty, +brought their king to the scaffold, proved, by their subsequent conduct, +that the public good inspired their actions, the end might have given +some sanction to the means; but usurpation and slavery followed. Milton +undertook the office of secretary, under the despotic power of Cromwell, +offering the incense of adulation to his master, with the titles of +"director of public councils, the leader of unconquered armies, the +father of his country." Milton declared, at the same time, "that nothing +is more pleasing to God, or more agreeable to reason, than that the +highest mind should have the sovereign power." In this strain of servile +flattery, Milton gives us the right divine of tyrants. But it seems, in +the same piece, he exhorts Cromwell "not to desert those great +principles of liberty which he had professed to espouse; for, it would +be a grievous enormity, if, after having successfully opposed tyranny, +he should himself act the part of a tyrant, and betray the cause that he +had defended." This desertion of every honest principle the advocate for +liberty lived to see. Cromwell acted the tyrant; and, with vile +hypocrisy, told the people, that he had consulted the Lord, and the Lord +would have it so. Milton took an under part in the tragedy. Did that +become the defender of the people of England? Brutus saw his country +enslaved; he struck the blow for freedom, and he died with honour in the +cause. Had he lived to be a secretary under Tiberius, what would now be +said of his memory? + +But still, it seems, the prostitution with which Milton is charged, +since it cannot be defended, is to be retorted on the character of +Johnson. For this purpose, a book has been published, called Remarks on +Dr. Johnson's Life of Milton; to which are added, Milton's Tractate of +Education, and Areopagitica. In this laboured tract we are told, "There +is one performance, ascribed to the pen of the Doctor, where the +prostitution is of so singular a nature, that it would be difficult to +select an adequate motive for it, out of the mountainous heap of +conjectural causes of human passions, or human caprice. It is the speech +of the late unhappy Dr. William Dodd, when he was about to hear the +sentence of the law pronounced upon him, in consequence of an indictment +for forgery. The voice of the public has given the honour of +manufacturing this speech to Dr. Johnson; and the style, and +configuration of the speech itself, confirm the imputation. But it is +hardly possible to divine what could be his motive for accepting the +office. A man, to express the precise state of mind of another, about to +be destined to an ignominious death, for a capital crime, should, one +would imagine, have some consciousness, that he himself had incurred +some guilt of the same kind." In all the schools of sophistry, is there +to be found so vile an argument? In the purlieus of Grub street, is +there such another mouthful of dirt? In the whole quiver of malice, is +there so envenomed a shaft? + +After this, it is to be hoped, that a certain class of men will talk no +more of Johnson's malignity. The last apology for Milton is, that he +acted according to his principles. But Johnson thought those principles +detestable; pernicious to the constitution, in church and state, +destructive of the peace of society, and hostile to the great fabric of +civil policy, which the wisdom of ages has taught every Briton to +revere, to love, and cherish. He reckoned Milton in that class of men, +of whom the Roman historian says, when they want, by a sudden +convulsion, to overturn the government, they roar and clamour for +liberty; if they succeed, they destroy liberty itself: "Ut imperium +evertant, libertatem praeferunt; si perverterint, libertatem ipsam +aggredientur." Such were the sentiments of Dr. Johnson; and it may be +asked, in the language of Bolingbroke, "Are these sentiments, which any +man, who is born a Briton, in any circumstances, in any situation, ought +to be ashamed, or afraid to avow?" Johnson has done ample justice to +Milton's poetry: the criticism on Paradise Lost is a sublime +composition. Had he thought the author as good and pious a citizen as +Dr. Watts, he would have been ready, notwithstanding his nonconformity, +to do equal honour to the memory of the man. + +It is now time to close this essay, which the author fears has been +drawn too much into length. In the progress of the work, feeble as it +may be, he thought himself performing the last human office to the +memory of a friend, whom he loved, esteemed, and honoured: + + "His saltern accumulem donis, et fungar inani + Munere."-- + +The author of these memoirs has been anxious to give the features of the +man, and the true character of the author. He has not suffered the hand +of partiality to colour his excellencies with too much warmth; nor has +he endeavoured to throw his singularities too much into the shade. Dr. +Johnson's failings may well be forgiven, for the sake of his virtues. +His defects were spots in the sun. His piety, his kind affections, and +the goodness of his heart, present an example worthy of imitation. His +works still remain a monument of genius and of learning. Had he written +nothing but what is contained in this edition, the quantity shows a life +spent in study and meditation. If to this be added, the labour of his +Dictionary, and other various productions, it may be fairly allowed, as +he used to say of himself, that he has written his share. In the volumes +here presented to the public the reader will find a perpetual source of +pleasure and instruction. With due precautions, authors may learn to +grace their style with elegance, harmony, and precision; they may be +taught to think with vigour and perspicuity; and, to crown the whole, by +a diligent attention to these books, all may advance in virtue. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. ii. p. 465, 4to. edit. +[b] This appears in a note to Johnson's Diary, prefixed to the first of + his Prayers. After the alteration of the style, he kept his birthday + on the 18th of September, and it is accordingly marked September + 7/18 +[c] The impression which this interview left on Johnson's fancy, is + recorded by Mrs. Piozzi in her anecdotes; and Johnson's description + of it is picturesque and poetical. Being asked if he could remember + queen Anne, "he had (he said) a confused, but somehow a sort of + solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood." +--ED. +[d] The entry of this is remarkable for his early resolution to preserve + through life a fair and upright character. "1732, Junii 15. Undecim + aureos deposui, quo die, quidquid ante matris funus (quod serum sit + precor) de paternis bonis sperare licet, viginti scilicet libras, + accepi. Usque adeo mihi mea fortuna fingenda est. Interea, ne + paupertate vires animi languescant, nec in flagitia egestas abigat, + cavendum." +[e] This, Mr. Bruce, the late traveller, avers to be a downright + falsehood. He says, a deep pool of water reaches to the very foot of + the rock; and, allowing that there was a seat or bench (which there + is not) in the middle of the pool, it is absolutely impossible, by + any exertion of human strength, to have arrived at it. But it may be + asked, can Mr. Bruce say what was the face of the country in the + year 1622, when Lobo saw the magnificent sight which he has + described? Mr. Bruce's pool of water may have been formed since; and + Lobo, perhaps, was content to sit down without a bench. +[f] After comparing this description with that lately given by Mr. + Bruce, the reader will judge, whether Lobo is to lose the honour of + having been at the head of the Nile, near two centuries before any + other European traveller. +[g] See the Gentleman's Magazine for 1736, p. 418. +[h] It is added to the present edition of Dr. Johnson's works; vol. v. + p. 202. +[i] Afterwards earl of Roslin. He died January 3, 1805. + +[Transcriber's Note: There is no Footnote [j]] + +[k] Mr. Boswell says, "The simple truth I had from Johnson himself. + 'Sir, he was impertinent to me, and I beat him. But it was not in + his shop: it was in my own chamber.'" +[l] Dr. Johnson denies the whole of this story. See Boswell's Life, vol. + i. p. 128. oct. edit. 1804. +[m] Letter 212. +[n] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxxi. p. 190. +[o] It has since been paralleled, in the case of the Shakespeare MSS. by + a yet more vile impostor. +[p] Life of Johnson, vol. i. p.328. 4to. edit. +[q] See Gentleman's Magazine for Nov. and Dec. 1787. +[r] See Gentleman's Magazine for Dec. 1787, p. 1042. +[s] This work was not published until the year 1767, when Dr. Johnson's + Dictionary was fully established in reputation. +[t] See Scaliger's epigram on this subject, (communicated, without + doubt, by Dr. Johnson,) Gent. Mag. 1748, p. 8. +[u] See Johnson's epitaph on him, in this volume, p. 130. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] Mr. Boswell's account of this introduction is very different from + the above. See his Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 360. 8vo. edit. 1804. +[y] It is there deposited. +[z] Before this authentic communication, Mr. Nichols had given, in the + volume of the Gentleman's Magazine, for 1781, p. 370, the following + account of the Universal History. The proposals were published + October 6, 1729; and the authors of the first seven volumes were, + +Vol. I. Mr. Sale, translator of the Koran. IV. The same as vol. iii. + II. George Psalmanazar. V. Mr. Bower. + III. George Psalmanazar. VI. Mr. Bower. + Archibald Bower. Rev. John Swinton. + Captain Shelvock. VII. Mr. Swinton. + Dr. Campbell. Mr. Bower. + +[aa] On the subject of voluntary penance, see the Rambler, No. 110. +[bb] It is to be regretted, that he was not encouraged in this + undertaking. The assistance, however, which he gave to Davies, in + writing the Life of Garrick, has been acknowledged, in general + terms, by that writer, and, from the evidence of style, appears to + have been very considerable. +[cc] Dr. Johnson informed Mr. Boswell, that this epilogue was written by + sir William Yonge. See Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 469-- + 70. 8vo. edit. 1804. The internal evidence, that it is not + Johnson's, is very strong, particularly in the line, "But how the + devil," &c. +[dd] See Johnson's letters from Ashbourne, in this volume. + +POEMS. + +PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS + +TO THE IMITATIONS OF THE + +THIRD AND TENTH SATIRES OF JUVENAL. + +We will not examine here Johnson's poetical merits, since that +discussion will more properly introduce his Lives of the Poets, but +merely offer some few biographical remarks. In the poem of London, Mr. +Boswell was of opinion, that Johnson did not allude to Savage, under the +name of Thales, and adds, for his reason, that Johnson was not so much +as acquainted with Savage when he _wrote_ his London. About a month, +however, before he _published_ this poem, he addressed the following +lines to him, through the Gentleman's Magazine, for April, 1738. + + AD RICARDUM SAVAGE. + + Humanani studium generis cui pectore fervet + O colat humanum te, foveatque, genus! + +We cannot certainly infer, from this, an intimacy with Savage, but it is +more probable, that these lines flowed from a feeling of private +friendship, than mere admiration of an author, in a public point of +view; and they, at any rate, give credibility to the general opinion, +that, under the name of Thales, the poet referred to the author of the +Wanderer, who was, at this time, preparing for his retreat to Wales, +whither he actually went in the ensuing year. + +The names of Lydiat, Vane, and Sedley, which are brought forward in the +poem on the Vanity of Human Wishes, as examples of inefficiency of +either learning or beauty, to shield their possessors from distress, +have exercised inquiry. The following is the best account of them we can +collect: + +THOMAS LYDIAT was born in 1572. After passing through the studies of the +university of Oxford, with applause, he was elected fellow of New +college; but his defective utterance induced him to resign his +fellowship, in order to avoid entering holy orders, and to live upon a +small patrimony. He was highly esteemed by the accomplished and +unfortunate prince Henry, son of James the first. But his hopes of +provision in that quarter were blasted by that prince's premature death; +and he then accompanied the celebrated Usher into Ireland. After two or +three years, he returned to England, and poverty induced him now to +accept the rectory of Okerton, near Banbury, which he had before +declined. Here he imprudently became security for the debts of a +relation, and, being unable to pay, was imprisoned for several years. He +was released, at last, by his patron, Usher, sir W. Boswell, Dr. Pink, +then warden of New college, and archbishop Laud, to whom he showed his +gratitude by writing in defence of his measures of church-government. He +now applied to Charles the first for his protection and encouragement to +travel into the east, to collect MSS. but the embarrassed state of the +king's affairs prevented his petition from receiving attention. Lastly, +his well-known attachment to the royal cause drew upon him the repeated +violence of the parliament troops, who plundered, imprisoned, and abused +him, in the most cruel manner. He died in obscurity and indigence, in +1646. A stone was laid over his grave in Okerton church, in 1669, by the +society of New college, who also erected an honorary monument to his +memory in the cloisters of their college. We have dwelt thus long on +Lydiat's name, because, when this poem was published, it was a subject +of inquiry, who Lydiat was, though some of his contemporaries, both in +England and on the continent, ranked him with lord Bacon, in +mathematical and physical knowledge. For a more detailed account, see +Chalmers' Biographical Dictionary, vol. xxi. whence the above facts have +been extracted, and Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxviii. GALILEO, and his +history, are too well known to require a note in this place. + +The VANE, who told, "what ills from beauty spring," was not Lady Vane, +the subject of Smollett's memoirs, in Peregrine Pickle, but, according +to Mr. Malone, she was Anne Vane, mistress to Frederick prince of Wales, +and died in 1736, not long before Johnson settled in London. Some +account of her was published, under the title of the Secret History of +Vanella, 8vo. 1732, and in other similar works, referred to in Boswell, +i. 173. In Mr. Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, we find lord Hailes +objecting to the instances of unfortunate beauties selected by Johnson, +and suggesting, in place of Vane and Sedley, the names of Shore and +Valière. + +CATHERINE SEDLEY was daughter of sir Charles Sedley, mistress of king +James the second, who created her countess of Dorchester. She was a +woman of a sprightly and agreeable wit, which could charm without the +aid of beauty, and longer maintain its power. She had been the king's +mistress before he ascended the throne, and soon after (January 2, +1685-6) was created countess of Dorchester. Sir C. Sedley, her father, +looked on this title, as a splendid indignity, purchased at the expense of +his daughter's honour; and when he was very active against the king, about +the time of the revolution, he said, that, in gratitude, he should do +his utmost to make his majesty's daughter a queen, as the king had made +his own a countess. The king continued to visit her, which gave great +uneasiness to the queen, who employed her friends, particularly the +priests, to persuade him to break off the correspondence. They +remonstrated with him on the guilt of the commerce, and the reproach it +would bring on the catholic religion; she, on the contrary, employed the +whole force of her ridicule against the priests and their counsels. +They, at length, prevailed, and he is said to have sent her word to +retire to France, or that her pension of 4,000_l_. a year should be +withdrawn. She then, probably, repented of having been the royal +mistress, and "cursed the form that pleased the king." + +See Manning and Bray's Surrey, ii. 788. where the countess's issue is +also given. See, also, Christian's note on Blackstone's Com. iv. p. 65. +It is remarkable, that when Johnson was asked, at a late period of his +life, to whom he had alluded, under the name of Sedley, he said, that he +had quite forgotten. See note on Idler, No. 36.--ED. + +LONDON; A POEM: + +IN IMITATION OF + +THE THIRD SATIRE OF JUVENAL + +WRITTEN IN 1738. + + --Quis ineptae +Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se? JUV. + +[a]Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel, +When injur'd Thales bids the town farewell, +Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend, +I praise the hermit, but regret the friend; +Resolv'd at length, from vice and London far, +To breathe, in distant fields, a purer air, +And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore, +Give to St. David one true Briton more. +[b]For who would leave, unbrib'd, Hibernia's land, +Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand? +There none are swept by sudden fate away, +But all, whom hunger spares, with age decay: +Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire, +And now a rabble rages, now a fire; +Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay, +And here the fell attorney prowls for prey; +Here falling houses thunder on your head, +And here a female atheist talks you dead. + [c]While Thales waits the wherry, that contains +Of dissipated wealth the small remains, +On Thames's banks, in silent thought, we stood +Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood; +Struck with the seat that gave Eliza[A] birth, +We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth; +In pleasing dreams the blissful age renew, +And call Britannia's glories back to view; +Behold her cross triumphant on the main, +The guard of commerce, and the dread of Spain, +Ere masquerades debauch'd, excise oppress'd +Or English honour grew a standing jest. + A transient calm the happy scenes bestow, +And, for a moment, lull the sense of woe. +At length awaking, with contemptuous frown, +Indignant Thales eyes the neighb'ring town. + [d] Since worth, he cries, in these degen'rate days, +Wants ev'n the cheap reward of empty praise; +In those curs'd walls, devote to vice and gain, +Since unrewarded science toils in vain; +Since hope but sooths to double my distress, +And ev'ry moment leaves my little less; +While yet my steady steps no [e]staff sustains, +And life, still vig'rous, revels in my veins; +Grant me, kind heaven, to find some happier place, +Where honesty and sense are no disgrace; +Some pleasing bank where verdant osiers play, +Some peaceful vale, with nature's paintings gay; +Where once the harass'd Briton found repose, +And, safe in poverty, defied his foes; +Some secret cell, ye pow'rs, indulgent give, +[f]Let--live here, for--has learn'd to live. +Here let those reign, whom pensions can incite +To vote a patriot black, a courtier white; +Explain their country's dear-bought rights away, +And plead for[B] pirates in the face of day; +With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth, +And lend a lie the confidence of truth. +[g]Let such raise palaces, and manors buy, +Collect a tax, or farm a lottery; +With warbling eunuchs fill a [C]licens'd [D]stage, +And lull to servitude a thoughtless age. +Heroes, proceed! what bounds your pride shall hold, +What check restrain your thirst of pow'r and gold? +Behold rebellious virtue quite o'erthrown, +Behold our fame, our wealth, our lives, your own. +To such the plunder of a land is giv'n, +When publick crimes inflame the wrath of heaven: +[h]But what, my friend, what hope remains for me. +Who start at theft, and blush at perjury? +Who scarce forbear, though Britain's court he sing, +To pluck a titled poet's borrow'd wing; +A statesman's logick unconvinc'd can hear. +And dare to slumber o'er the [E]Gazetteer; +Despise a fool in half his pension dress'd, +And strive, in vain, to laugh at Clodio's jest[F]. +[i]Others, with softer smiles, and subtler art, +Can sap the principles, or taint the heart; +With more address a lover's note convey, +Or bribe a virgin's innocence away. +Well may they rise, while I, whose rustick tongue +Ne'er knew to puzzle right, or varnish wrong, +Spurn'd as a beggar, dreaded as a spy, +Live unregarded, unlamented die. +[k]For what but social guilt the friend endears? +Who shares Orgilio's crimes, his fortune shares. +[l]But thou, should tempting villany present +All Marlb'rough hoarded, or all Villiers spent, +Turn from the glitt'ring bribe thy scornful eye, +Nor sell for gold, what gold could never buy, +The peaceful slumber, self-approving day, +Unsullied fame, and conscience ever gay. +[m] The cheated nation's happy fav'rites, see! +Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me! +London! the needy villain's gen'ral home, +The common sewer of Paris and of Rome; +With eager thirst, by folly or by fate, +Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state. +Forgive my transports, on a theme like this, +[n]I cannot bear a French metropolis. +[o]Illustrious Edward! from the realms of day, +The land of heroes and of saints survey; +Nor hope the British lineaments to trace, +The rustick grandeur, or the surly grace; +But, lost in thoughtless ease and empty show, +Behold the warriour dwindled to a beau; +Sense, freedom, piety, refin'd away, +Of France the mimick, and of Spain the prey. +All that at home no more can beg or steal, +Or like a gibbet better than a wheel; +Hiss'd from the stage, or hooted from the court, +Their air, their dress, their politicks, import; +[p]Obsequious, artful, voluble and gay, +On Britain's fond credulity they prey. +No gainful trade their industry can 'scape, +[q]They sing, they dance, clean shoes, or cure a clap: +All sciences a fasting Monsieur knows, +And, bid him go to hell, to hell he goes. +[r]Ah! what avails it, that, from slav'ry far, +I drew the breath of life in English air; +Was early taught a Briton's right to prize, +And lisp the tale of Henry's victories; +If the gull'd conqueror receives the chain, +And flattery prevails, when arms are vain![G] +[s]Studious to please, and ready to submit, +The supple Gaul was born a parasite: +Still to his int'rest true, where'er he goes, +Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestows; +In ev'ry face a thousand graces shine, +From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine. + [t]These arts in vain our rugged natives try, +Strain out, with fault'ring diffidence, a lie, +And get a kick[H] for awkward flattery. + Besides, with justice, this discerning age +Admires their wondrous talents for the stage: + [u]Well may they venture on the mimick's art, +Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part; +Practis'd their master's notions to embrace, +Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face; +With ev'ry wild absurdity comply, +And view each object with another's eye; +To shake with laughter, ere the jest they hear, +To pour at will the counterfeited tear; +And, as their patron hints the cold or heat. +To shake in dog-days, in December sweat. + [x]How, when competitors, like these, contend, +Can surly virtue hope to fix a friend? +Slaves that with serious impudence beguile, +And lie without a blush, without a smile; +Exalt each trifle, ev'ry vice adore, +Your taste in snuff, your judgment in a whore: +Can Balbo's eloquence applaud, and swear, +He gropes his breeches with a monarch's air. + For arts, like these, preferr'd, admir'd, caress'd, +They first invade your table, then your breast; +[y]Explore your secrets with insidious art, +Watch the weak hour, and ransack all the heart; +Then soon your ill-placed confidence repay, +Commence your lords, and govern or betray. + [z]By numbers here from shame or censure free, +All crimes are safe, but hated poverty. +This, only this, the rigid law pursues, +This, only this, provokes the snarling muse. +The sober trader at a tatter'd cloak +Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke; +With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, +And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. +[aa]Of all the griefs, that harass the distress'd, +Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest; +Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, +Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart. + [bb]Has heaven reserv'd, in pity to the poor, +No pathless waste, or undiscover'd shore? +No secret island in the boundless main? +No peaceful desert, yet unclaim'd by Spain?[I] +Quick let us rise, the happy seats explore, +And bear oppression's insolence no more. +This mournful truth is ev'ry where confess'd, +[cc]SLOW RISES WORTH, BY POVERTY DEPRESS'D: +But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, +Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold; +Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, +The groom retails the favours of his lord. +But hark! th' affrighted crowd's tumultuous cries +Roll through the streets, and thunder to the skies: +Rais'd from some pleasing dream of wealth and pow'r, +Some pompous palace, or some blissful bow'r, +Aghast you start, and scarce, with aching sight, +Sustain th' approaching fire's tremendous light; +Swift from pursuing horrours take your way, +And leave your little ALL to flames a prey; +[dd]Then through the world a wretched vagrant roam; +For where can starving merit find a home? +In vain your mournful narrative disclose, +While all neglect, and most insult your woes. +[ee]Should heav'n's just bolts Orgilio's wealth confound, +[J]And spread his flaming palace on the ground, +Swift o'er the land the dismal rumour flies, +And publick mournings pacify the skies; +The laureate tribe in venal verse relate, +How virtue wars with persecuting fate; +[ff]With well-feign'd gratitude the pension'd band +Refund the plunder of the beggar'd land. +See! while he builds, the gaudy vassals come, +And crowd with sudden wealth the rising dome; +The price of boroughs and of souls restore; +And raise his treasures higher than before. +Now bless'd with all the baubles of the great, +The polish'd marble and the shining plate, +[gg]Orgilio sees the golden pile aspire, +And hopes from angry heav'n another fire. +[hh]Could'st thou resign the park and play, content, +For the fair banks of Severn or of Trent; +There might'st thou find some elegant retreat, +Some hireling senator's deserted seat; +And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land, +For less than rent the dungeons of the Strand; +There prune thy walks, support thy drooping flowers, +Direct thy rivulets, and twine thy bowers; +[K] And, while thy grounds a cheap repast afford, +Despise the dainties of a venal lord: +There ev'ry bush with nature's musick rings; +There ev'ry breeze bears health upon its wings; +On all thy hours security shall smile, +And bless thine evening walk and morning toil. +[ii]Prepare for death, if here at night you roam, +And sign your will, before you sup from home. +[kk] Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, +Who sleeps on brambles, till he kills his man; +Some frolick drunkard, reeling from a feast, +Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest. +[ll]Yet e'en these heroes, mischievously gay, +Lords of the street, and terrours of the way; +Flush'd, as they are, with folly, youth, and wine; +Their prudent insults to the poor confine; +Afar they mark the flambeau's bright approach, +And shun the shining train, and golden coach. + [mm]In vain, these dangers past, your doors you close, +And hope the balmy blessings of repose; +Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair, +The midnight murd'rer bursts the faithless bar; +Invades the sacred hour of silent rest, +[L]And leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast. + [nn]Scarce can our fields, such crowds at Tyburn die, +With hemp the gallows and the fleet supply. +Propose your schemes, ye senatorian band, +Whose ways and means[M]support the sinking land: +Lest ropes be wanting in the tempting spring, +To rig another convoy for the king[N]. + [oo]A single gaol, in Alfred's golden reign, +Could half the nation's criminals contain; +Fair justice, then, without constraint ador'd, +Held high the steady scale, but sheath'd the sword [D]; +No spies were paid, no special juries known, +Blest age! but ah! how different from our own! + [pp]Much could I add,--but see the boat at hand, +The tide, retiring, calls me from the land: +[qq] Farewell!--When youth, and health, and fortune spent, +Thou fly'st for refuge to the wilds of Kent; +And, tir'd, like me, with follies and with crimes, +In angry numbers warn'st succeeding times; +Then shall thy friend, nor thou refuse his aid, +Still foe to vice, forsake his Cambrian shade; +In virtue's cause, once more, exert his rage, +Thy satire point, and animate thy page. + +FOOTNOTES + +[a] +Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici, +Laudo, tamen, vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis +Destinet atque unum civcm donare Sibyllae. + +[b] +--Ego vel Prochytam praepono Suburae. +Nam quid tam miserum, tam solum vidimus, ut non +Deterius credas horrere incendia, lapsus +Tectorum assiduos, ae mille pericula saevae +Urbis et Augusto recitantes mense poetas + +[c] +Sed dum tota domus reda componitur una, +Substitit ad veteres arcus-- + +[d] +Hic tunc Umbricius; Quando artibus, inquit, honestis +Nullus in urbe locus, nulla emolumenta laborum, +Res hodie minor est, here quam fuit, atque eadem eras +Deteret exiguis aliquid: proponimus illue +Ire, fatigatas ubi Daedalus exuit alas, +Dum nova canities,-- + +[e] +--et pedibus me +Porto meis, nullo dextram subeunte bacillo. + +[f] +Cedamus patria: vivant Artorius istic +Et Catulus: maneant, qui nigrum in candida vertunt. + +[g] +Queis facile est aedem conducere, flumina, portus, +Siccandam eluviem, portandum ad busta cadaver,-- +Munera nunc edunt. + +[h] +Quid Romae faciam? Mentiri nescio: librum, +Si malus est, nequeo laudare et poscere:-- + +[i] +--Ferre ad nuptam, quae mittit adulter, +Quae mandat, norunt alii; me nemo ministro +Fur erit, atque ideo nulli comes exeo,-- + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]] + +[k] +Quis nune diligitur, nisi conscius?-- +Carus erit Verri, qui Verrem tempore, quo vult, +Acuusare potest.-- + +[l] +--Tanti tibi non sit opaci +Omnis arena Tagi, quodque in mare volvitur aurum, +Ut somno careas-- + +[m] +Quae nunc divitibus gens acceptissima nostris +Et quos praecipue fugiam, properabo fateri. + +[n] +--Non possum ferre, Quirites, +Graecam urbem:-- + +[o] +Rusticus ille tuus sumit trechedipna, Quirine, +Et ceromatico fert niceteria collo. + +[p] +Ingenium velox, audacia perdita, sermo +Promptus-- + +[q] +Augur, schoenobates, medicus, magus: omnia novit. +Graeculus esuriens in coelum, jusseris, ibit. + +[r] +Usque adeo nihil est, quod nostra infantia coelum +Hausit Aventinum?-- + +[s] +Quid? quod adulandi gens prudentissima laudat +Sermonem indocti, faciem deformis amici? + +[t] +Haec eadem licet et nobis laudare: sed illis +Creditur.-- + +[u] +Natio comoeda est. Rides? majore cachinno +Coneutitur, &c. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] +Non sumus ergo pares: melior, qui semper et omni +Nocte dieque potest alienum sumere vultum, +A facie jactare manus, laudare paratus, +Si bene ructavit, si rectum minxit amicus.-- + +[y] +Scire volunt secreta domus atque inde timeri. + +[z] +--Materiam praebet causasque jocorum +Omnibus hic idem, si foeda et scissa lacerna, &c. + +[aa] +Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, +Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.-- + +[bb] +--Agmine facto, +Debuerant olim tenues migrasse Quirites. + +[cc] +Haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat +Res angusta domi; sed Romae; durior illis +Conatus:-- + --Omnia Romaae +Cum pretio.-- +Cogimur, et cultis augere peculia servis. + +[dd] +--Ultimus autem +Aerumnae cumulus, quod nudum et frustra rogautem +Nemo cibo, nemo hospitio tectoque juvabit. + +[ee] +Si magna Asturii cecidit domus, horrida mater: +Pullati proccres,-- + +[ff] +--Jam accurrit, qui marmora donet, +Conferat impensas: hic &c. + +[gg] +Hic modium argenti. Meliora, ac plura reponit +Persicus orborum lautissimus-- + +[hh] +Si potes avelli Circensibus, optima Sorae, +Aut Fabrateriae domus, aut Frusinone paratur, +Quanti nunc tenebras unum conducis in annum. +Hortulus hic-- +Vive bidentis amans et culti villicus horti; +Unde epulum possis centum dare Pythagoreis. + +[ii] +--Possis ignavus haberi +Et subiti casus improvidus, ad coenam si +Intestatus eas.-- + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [jj]] + +[kk] +Ebrius, ac petulans, qui nullum forte cecidit, +Dat poenas, noetem patitur lugentis amicum +Pelidae.-- + +[ll] +--Sed, quamvis improbus annis, +Atque mero fervens, cavet hunc, quem coccina lae [Transcriber's note: + remainder of word illegible] +Vitari jubet, et comitum longissimus ordo, +Multum praeterca flammarum, atque aenca lampas, + +[mm] +Nec tamen hoc tantum metuas: nam qui spoliet te, +Non deerit, clausis domibus, &c. + +[nn] +Maximus in vinclis ferri modus, ut timeas, ne +Vomer deficiat, ne marrae et sarcula desint. + +[oo] +Felices proavorum atavos, felicia dicas +Saecula, quae quondam sub regibus atque tribunis +Viderunt uno contentam carcere Romam. + +[pp] +His alias poteram, et plures subnectere causas: +Sed jumenta vocant-- + +[qq] +--Ergo vale nostri memor et, quoties te +Roma tuo refici properantem reddet Aquino, +Me quoque ad Helvinam Cererem vestramque Dianam +Convelle a Cumis. Satirarum ego, ni pudet illas, +Adjutor gelidos veniam caligatus in agros. + +[A] Queen Elizabeth, born at Greenwich. +[B] The invasions of the Spaniards were defended in the houses of + parliament. +[C] The licensing act was then lately made. +[D] _Our silenc'd._ +[E] The paper which, at that time, contained apologies for the court. +[F] H--y's jest. +[G] And what their armies lost, their cringes gain +[H] And _gain_ a kick. +[I] The Spaniards at this time were said to make claim to some of our + American provinces. +[J] This was by Hitch, a bookseller. Justly observed to be no picture of + modern manners, though it might be true at Rome. MS. note in Dr. + Johnson's hand-writing. +[K] And, while thy _beds_. +[L] And _plants_ unseen. +[M] A cant term in the house of commons for methods of raising money. +[N] The nation was discontented at the visits made by the king to + Hanover. +[O] _Sustain'd_ the _balance_, but _resign'd_ the sword. + + + +THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES; + +IN IMITATION OF + + THE TENTH SATIRE OF JUVENAL. + +Let[a] observation, with extensive view, +Survey mankind, from China to Peru; +Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife, +And watch the busy scenes of crowded life; +Then say, how hope and fear, desire and hate +O'erspread with snares the clouded maze of fate, +Where wav'ring man, betray'd by vent'rous pride +To tread the dreary paths, without a guide, +As treach'rous phantoms in the mist delude, +Shuns fancied ills, or chases airy good; +How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice, +Rules the bold hand, or prompts the suppliant voice. +How nations sink, by darling schemes oppress'd, +When vengeance listens to the fool's request. +Fate wings with ev'ry wish th' afflictive dart, +Each gift of nature, and each grace of art; +With fatal heat impetuous courage glows, +With fatal sweetness elocution flows, +Impeachment stops the speaker's pow'rful breath, +And restless fire precipitates on death. +[b]But, scarce observ'd, the knowing and the bold +Fall in the gen'ral massacre of gold; +Wide wasting pest! that rages unconfin'd, +And crowds with crimes the records of mankind; +For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws, +For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws; +Wealth heap'd on wealth, nor truth nor safety buys, +The dangers gather as the treasures rise. +Let hist'ry tell where rival kings command, +And dubious title shakes the madded land, +When statutes glean the refuse of the sword, +How much more safe the vassal than the lord; +Low sculks the hind beneath the rage of power, +And leaves the wealthy traitor in the Tower[c], +Untouch'd his cottage, and his slumbers sound, +Though confiscation's vultures hover round[d]. +The needy traveller, serene and gay, +Walks the wild heath, and sings his toil away. +Does envy seize thee? crush th' upbraiding joy; +Increase his riches, and his peace destroy; +[e]Now fears, in dire vicissitude, invade, +The rustling brake alarms, and quiv'ring shade; +Nor light nor darkness bring his pain relief, +One shows the plunder, and one hides the thief. +[f] Yet still one gen'ral cry[g] the skies assails, +And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales: +Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care, +Th' insidious rival, and the gaping heir. +[h]Once more, Democritus, arise on earth, +With cheerful wisdom and instructive mirth, +See motley life in modern trappings dress'd, +And feed with varied fools th' eternal jest: +Thou, who could'st laugh where want enchain'd caprice, +Toil crush'd conceit, and man was of a piece; +Where wealth, unlov'd, without a mourner died; +And scarce a sycophant was fed by pride; +Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate, +Or seen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state; +Where change of fav'rites made no change of laws, +And senates heard, before they judg'd a cause; +How would'st thou shake at Britain's modish tribe, +Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe? +Attentive truth and nature to descry, +And pierce each scene with philosophick eye; +To thee were solemn toys, or empty show, +The robes of pleasure, and the veils of woe: +All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain, +Whose joys are causeless, or whose griefs are vain. + Such was the scorn that fill'd the sage's mind, +Renew'd at ev'ry glance on human kind; +How just that scorn, ere yet thy voice declare, +Search ev'ry state, and canvass ev'ry pray'r. + [i]Unnumber'd suppliants crowd preferment's gate, +Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great; +Delusive fortune hears th' incessant call, +They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall. +On ev'ry stage the foes of peace attend, +Hate dogs their flight, and insult mocks their end. +Love ends with hope, the sinking statesman's door +Pours in the morning worshipper no more; +For growing names the weekly scribbler lies, +To growing wealth the dedicator flies; +From ev'ry room descends the painted face, +That hung the bright palladium of the place; +And, smok'd in kitchens, or in auctions sold, +To better features yields the frame of gold; +For now no more we trace in ev'ry line +Heroick worth, benevolence divine: +The form, distorted, justifies the fall, +And detestation rids th' indignant wall. + But will not Britain hear the last appeal, +Sign her foes' doom, or guard her fav'rites' zeal? +Through freedom's sons no more remonstrance rings, +Degrading nobles and controling kings; +Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats, +And ask no questions but the price of votes; +With weekly libels and septennial ale, +Their wish is full to riot and to rail. + In full-blown dignity, see Wolsey stand, +Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand; +To him the church, the realm their pow'rs consign, +Through him the rays of regal bounty shine; +Turn'd by his nod the stream of honour flows, +His smile alone security bestows. +Still to new heights his restless wishes tow'r, +Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r; +Till conquest, unresisted, ceas'd to please, +And rights, submitted, left him none to seize. +At length his sov'reign frowns--the train of state +Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate. +Where'er he turns, he meets a stranger's eye, +His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly; +Now drops, at once, the pride of awful state, +The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate, +The regal palace, the luxurious board, +The liv'ried army, and the menial lord. +With age, with cares, with maladies oppress'd, +He seeks the refuge of monastick rest: +Grief aids disease, remember'd folly stings, +And his last sighs reproach the faith of kings. + Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine, +Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end, be thine? +Or liv'st thou now, with safer pride content, +[k]The wisest justice on the banks of Trent? +For, why did Wolsey, near the steeps of fate, +On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight? +Why but to sink beneath misfortune's blow, +With louder ruin to the gulfs below? + [l]What gave great Villiers to th' assassin's knife, +And fix'd disease on Harley's closing life? +What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde, +By kings protected, and to kings allied? +What but their wish indulg'd in courts to shine, +And pow'r too great to keep, or to resign? + [m]When first the college rolls receive his name, +The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame; + [n]Through all his veins the fever of renown +Spreads from the strong contagion of the gown; +O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread, +And [o]Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head. +Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth, +And virtue guard thee to the throne of truth! +Yet, should thy soul indulge the gen'rous heat +Till captive science yields her last retreat; +Should reason guide thee with her brightest ray, +And pour on misty doubt resistless day; +Should no false kindness lure to loose delight, +Nor praise relax, nor difficulty fright; +Should tempting novelty thy cell refrain, +[p]And sloth effuse her opiate fumes in vain; +Should beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart, +Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart; +Should no disease thy torpid veins invade, +Nor melancholy's phantoms haunt thy shade; +Yet hope not life, from grief or danger free, +Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee: +Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, +And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; +There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, +Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the gaol[q]. +See nations, slowly wise and meanly just, +To buried merit raise the tardy bust. +If dreams yet flatter, once again attend, +Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end[r]. +Nor deem, when learning her last prize bestows, +The glitt'ring eminence exempt from woes; +See, when the vulgar scape[s], despis'd or aw'd, +Rebellion's vengeful talons seize on Laud. +From meaner minds though smaller fines content, +The plunder'd palace, or sequester'd rent; +Mark'd out by dang'rous parts, he meets the shock, +And fatal learning leads him to the block: +Around his tomb let art and genius weep, +But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and sleep. + [t]The festal blazes, the triumphal show, +The ravish'd standard, and the captive foe, +The senate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale, +With force resistless o'er the brave prevail. +Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Asia whirl'd; +For such the steady Romans shook the world; +For such, in distant lands, the Britons shine, +And stain with blood the Danube or the Rhine; +This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm, +Till fame supplies the universal charm. +Yet reason frowns on war's unequal game, +Where wasted nations raise a single name; +And mortgag'd states, their grandsires' wreaths regret. +From age to age in everlasting debt; +Wreaths which, at last, the dear-bought right convey +To rust on medals, or on stones decay. + [u]On what foundation stands the warriour's pride, +How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; +A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, +No dangers fright him, and no labours tire; +[x]O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, +Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; +No joys to him pacifick sceptres yield, +War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; +Behold surrounding kings their pow'rs combine, +And one capitulate, and one resign; +Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; +"Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till nought remain, +On Moscow's walls till Gothick standards fly, +And all be mine beneath the polar sky." +The march begins in military state, +And nations on his eye suspended wait; +Stern famine guards the solitary coast, +And winter barricades the realm of frost; +He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay;-- +Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa's day: +The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, +And shows his miseries in distant lands; +Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait, +While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. +But did not chance, at length, her errour mend? +Did no subverted empire mark his end? +Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? +Or hostile millions press him to the ground? +His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, +A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; +He left the name, at which the world grew pale, +To point a moral, or adorn a tale. + [y]All times their scenes of pompous woes afford, +From Persia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord. +In gay hostility and barb'rous pride, +With half mankind embattl'd at his side, +Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain prey, +And starves exhausted regions in his way; +Attendant flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er, +Till counted myriads sooth his pride no more; +Fresh praise is try'd till madness fires his mind, +The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind, +New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still bestow'd, +Till rude resistance lops the spreading god; +The daring Greeks deride the martial show, +And heap their valleys with the gaudy foe; +Th' insulted sea, with humbler thoughts, he gains; +A single skiff to speed his flight remains; +Th' incumber'd oar scarce leaves the dreaded coast +Through purple billows and a floating host. + The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour, +Tries the dread summits of Caesarean pow'r, +With unexpected legions bursts away, +And sees defenceless realms receive his sway;-- +Short sway! fair Austria spreads her mournful charms, +The queen, the beauty, sets the world in arms; +From hill to hill the beacon's rousing blaze +Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praise; +The fierce Croatian, and the wild Hussar, +[z]With all the sons of ravage, crowd the war; +The baffled prince, in honour's flatt'ring bloom +Of hasty greatness, finds the fatal doom, +His foes' derision, and his subjects' blame, +And steals to death from anguish and from shame. + [aa]Enlarge my life with multitude of days! +In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays; +Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know, +That life protracted is protracted woe. +Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, +And shuts up all the passages of joy; +In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, +The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r; +With listless eyes the dotard views the store, +He views, and wonders that they please no more; +Now pall the tasteless meats, and joyless wines, +And luxury with sighs her slave resigns. +Approach, ye minstrels, try the soothing strain, +[bb]Diffuse the tuneful lenitives of pain: +No sounds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear, +Though dancing mountains witness'd Orpheus near; +Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend, +Nor sweeter musick of a virtuous friend; +But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue, +Perversely grave, or positively wrong. +The still returning tale, and ling'ring jest, +Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest, +While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring sneer, +And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear; +The watchful guests still hint the last offence; +The daughter's petulance, the son's expense, +Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill, +And mould his passions till they make his will. + Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, +Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade; +But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains, +And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; +He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, +His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; +Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, +Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. + But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime +Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime; +[cc]An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, +And glides in modest innocence away; +Whose peaceful day benevolence endears, +Whose night congratulating conscience cheers; +The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend; +Such age there is, and who shall wish its end[dd]? + Yet e'en on this her load misfortune flings, +To press the weary minutes' flagging wings; +New sorrow rises as the day returns, +A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns. +Now kindred merit fills the sable bier, +Now lacerated friendship claims a tear; +Year chases year, decay pursues decay, +Still drops some joy from with'ring life away; +New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage, +Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage, +Till pitying nature signs the last release, +And bids afflicted worth retire to peace. + But few there are whom hours like these await, +Who set unclouded in the gulfs of fate. +From Lydia's monarch should the search descend, +By Solon caution'd to regard his end, +In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, +Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! +From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, +And Swift expires a driv'ller and a show. + [ee]The teeming mother, anxious for her race, +Begs for each birth the fortune of a face; +Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring; +And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king. +Ye nymphs of rosy lips and radiant eyes, +Whom pleasure keeps too busy to be wise; +Whom joys with soft varieties invite, +By day the frolick, and the dance by night; +Who frown with vanity, who smile with art, +And ask the latest fashion of the heart; +What care, what rules, your heedless charms shall save, +Each nymph your rival, and each youth your slave? +Against your fame with fondness hate combines, +The rival batters, and the lover mines. +With distant voice neglected virtue calls, +Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance falls; +Tir'd with contempt, she quits the slipp'ry reign, +And pride and prudence take her seat in vain. +In crowd at once, where none the pass defend, +The harmless freedom, and the private friend. +The guardians yield, by force superiour ply'd: +To int'rest, prudence; and to flatt'ry, pride. +Here beauty falls, betray'd, despis'd, distress'd, +And hissing infamy proclaims the rest. + [ff]Where then shall hope and fear their objects find? +Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind? +Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, +Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? +Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, +No cries invoke the mercies of the skies? +Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain +Which heav'n may hear; nor deem religion vain. +Still raise for good the supplicating voice, +But leave to heav'n the measure and the choice. +Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes discern afar +The secret ambush of a specious pray'r; +Implore his aid, in his decisions rest, +Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best. +Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, +And strong devotion to the skies aspires[gg], +Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, +Obedient passions, and a will resign'd; +For love, which scarce collective man can fill; +For patience, sov'reign o'er transmuted ill; +For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, +[hh]Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat: +These goods for man the laws of heav'n ordain; +These goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain; +With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, +And makes the happiness she does not find. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Ver. 1--11. +[b] Ver. 12--22. +[c] In the first edition, "the _bonny_ traitor!" an evident + allusion to the Scotch lords who suffered for the rebellion in 1745. +[d] Clang around. +[e] New fears. +[f] Ver. 23-37. +[g] Yet still the gen'ral cry. +[h] Ver. 28-55. +[i] Ver. 56--107. +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]] +[k] The richest landlord. +[l] Ver. 108--113. +[m] Ver. 114--132. +[n] + _Resistless burns the_ fever of renown, + _Caught_ from the strong contagion of the gown. + + Mr. Boswell tells us, that when he remarked to Dr. Johnson, that + there was an awkward repetition of the word spreads in this passage, + he altered it to "Burns from the strong contagion of the gown;" but + this expression, it appears, was only resumed from the reading in + the first edition. +[o] There is a tradition, that the study of friar Bacon, built on an + arch over the bridge, will fall, when a man greater than Bacon shall + pass under it. To prevent so shocking an accident, it was pulled + down many years since. +[p] And sloth's _bland_ opiates _shed_ their fumes in vain. +[q] The _garret_ and the gaol. +[r] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxviii. p. 951, 1027. +[s] This was first written, "See, when the vulgar scap_ed_;" but, + as the rest of the paragraph was in the present tense, he altered it + to scape_s_; but again recollecting that the word _vulgar_ + is never used as a singular substantive, he adopted the reading of + the text. +[t] Ver. 133--146. +[u] Ver. 147--167. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] O'er love or _force_. +[y] Ver. 168--187. +[z] _And_ all the sons. +[aa] Ver. 188--288. +[bb] And _yield_. +[cc] An age that melts _in_. +[dd] _Could_ wish its end. +[ee] Ver. 289-345. +[ff] Ver. 346-366. +[gg] + Yet, _with_ the sense of sacred presence _press'd_, + _When_ strong devotion _fills thy glowing breast_. + +[hh] _Thinks_ death. + + + +PROLOGUE, + +SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, AT THE OPENING OF THE +THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY LANE, 1747. + +When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes +First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; +Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, +Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new: +Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, +And panting time toil'd after him in vain: +His pow'rful strokes presiding truth impress'd, +And unresisted passion storm'd the breast. + Then Jonson came, instructed from the school +To please in method, and invent by rule; +His studious patience and laborious art, +By regular approach, assail'd the heart: +Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays; +For those, who durst not censure, scarce could praise: +A mortal born, he met the gen'ral doom, +But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb. + The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, +Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakespeare's flame: +Themselves they studied, as they felt, they writ; +Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit; +Vice always found a sympathetick friend; +They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend. +Yet bards, like these, aspir'd to lasting praise, +And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days. +Their cause was gen'ral, their supports were strong; +Their slaves were willing, and their reign was long: +Till shame regain'd the post that sense betray'd, +And virtue call'd oblivion to her aid. + Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd, as refin'd, +For years the pow'r of tragedy declin'd; +From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, +Till declamation roar'd, while passion slept; +Yet still did virtue deign the stage to tread, +Philosophy remain'd, though nature fled. +But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit, +She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of wit; +Exulting folly hail'd the joyful day, +And pantomime and song confirm'd her sway. + But who the coming changes can presage, +And mark the future periods of the stage? +Perhaps, if skill could distant times explore, +New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store; +Perhaps, where Lear has ray'd, and Hamlet dy'd, +On flying cars new sorcerers may ride: +Perhaps, (for who can guess th' effects of chance?) +Here Hunt[a] may box, or Mahomet may dance. + Hard is his lot that, here by fortune plac'd, +Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; +With ev'ry meteor of caprice must play, +And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. +Ah! let not censure term our fate our choice, +The stage but echoes back the publick voice; +The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, +For we that live to please, must please to live. + Then prompt no more the follies you decry, +As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die; +'Tis yours, this night, to bid the reign commence +Of rescued nature and reviving sense; +To chase the charms of sound, the pomp of show, +For useful mirth and salutary woe; +Bid scenick virtue form the rising age, +And truth diffuse her radiance from the stage. + +[a] Hunt, a famous boxer on the stage; Mahomet, a ropedancer, who had + exhibited at Covent garden theatre the winter before, said to be a + Turk. + + + +PREFATORY NOTICE TO + +THE TRAGEDY OF IRENE. + +The history of this tragedy's composition is interesting, as affording +dates to distinguish Johnson's literary progress. It was begun, and +considerably advanced, while he kept a school at Edial, near Lichfield, +in 1736. In the following year, when he relinquished the task of a +schoolmaster, so little congenial with his mind and disposition, and +resolved to seek his fortunes in the metropolis, Irene was carried along +with him as a foundation for his success. Mr. Walmsley, one of his early +friends, recommended him, and his fellow-adventurer, Garrick, to the +notice and protection of Colson, the mathematician. Unless Mrs. Piozzi +is correct, in rescuing the character of Colson from any identity with +that of Gelidus, in the Rambler[a], Johnson entertained no lively +recollection of his first patron's kindness. He was ever warm in +expressions of gratitude for favours, conferred on him in his season of +want and obscurity; and from his deep silence here, we may conclude, +that the recluse mathematician did not evince much sympathy with the +distresses of the young candidate for dramatic fame. Be this, however, +as it may, Johnson, shortly after this introduction, took lodgings at +Greenwich, to proceed with his Irene in quiet and retirement, but soon +returned to Lichfield, to complete it. The same year that saw these +successive disappointments, witnessed also Johnson's return to London, +with his tragedy completed, and its rejection by Fleetwood, the +patentee, at that time, of Drury lane theatre. Twelve years elapsed, +before it was acted, and, after many alterations by his pupil and +companion, Garrick, who was then manager of the theatre, it was, by his +zeal, and the support of the most eminent performers of the day, carried +through a representation of nine nights. Johnson's profits, after the +deduction of expenses, and together with the hundred pounds, which he +received from Robert Dodsley, for the copy, were nearly three hundred +pounds. So fallacious were the hopes cherished by Walmsley, that Johnson +would "turn out a fine tragedy writer[b]." + +"The tragedy of Irene," says Mr. Murphy, "is founded on a passage in +Knolles's History of the Turks;" an author highly commended in the +Rambler, No. 122. An incident in the life of Mahomet the great, first +emperor of the Turks, is the hinge, on which the fable is made to move. +The substance of the story is shortly this:--In 1453, Mahomet laid siege +to Constantinople, and, having reduced the place, became enamoured of a +fair Greek, whose name was Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the +law of the prophet, and to grace his throne. Enraged at this intended +marriage, the janizaries formed a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor. To +avert the impending danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, +"catching, with one hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the +hair of her head, and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one +blow, struck off her head, to the great terror of them all; and, having +so done, said unto them, 'Now, by this, judge whether your emperor is +able to bridle his affections or not[c].'" We are not unjust, we +conceive, in affirming, that there is an interest kept alive in the +plain and simple narrative of the old historian, which is lost in the +declamatory tragedy of Johnson. + +It is sufficient, for our present purpose, to confess that he _has_ +failed in this his only dramatic attempt; we shall endeavour, more +fully, to show _how_ he has failed, in our discussion of his powers as a +critic. That they were not blinded to the defects of others, by his own +inefficiency in dramatic composition, is fully proved by his judicious +remarks on Cato, which was constructed on a plan similar to Irene: and +the strongest censure, ever passed on this tragedy, was conveyed in +Garrick's application of Johnson's own severe, but correct critique, on +the wits of Charles, in whose works + + "Declamation roar'd, while passion slept."[d] + +"Addison speaks the language of poets," says Johnson, in his preface to +Shakespeare, "and Shakespeare of men. We find in Cato innumerable +beauties, which enamour us of its author, but we see nothing that +acquaints us with human sentiments, or human actions; we place it with +the fairest and the noblest progeny which judgment propagates by +conjunction with learning; but Othello is the vigorous and vivacious +offspring of observation, impregnated by genius. Cato affords a splendid +exhibition of artificial and fictitious manners, and delivers just and +noble sentiments, in diction easy, elevated and harmonious; but its +hopes and fears communicate no vibration to the heart: the composition +refers us only to the writer; we pronounce the name of Cato, but we +think on Addison." The critic's remarks on the same tragedy, in his Life +of Addison, are as applicable as the above to his own production. "Cato +is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama; rather a succession of just +sentiments in elegant language, than a representation of natural +affections, or of any state probable or possible in human life. Nothing +here 'excites or assuages emotion:' here is no 'magical power of raising +phantastick terrour or wild anxiety.' The events are expected without +solicitude, and are remembered without joy or sorrow. Of the agents we +have no care; we consider not what they are doing, or what they are +suffering; we wish only to know what they have to say." + +But, while we thus pronounce Johnson's failure in the production of +dramatic effect, we will not withhold our tribute of admiration from +Irene, as a moral piece. For, although a remark of Fox's on an +unpublished tragedy of Burke's, that it was rather rhetorical than +poetical, may be applied to the work under consideration; still it +abounds, throughout, with the most elevated and dignified lessons of +morality and virtue. The address of Demetrius to the aged Cali, on the +dangers of procrastination[e]; Aspasia's reprobation of Irene's +meditated apostasy[f]; and the allusive panegyric on the British +constitution[g], may be enumerated, as examples of its excellence in +sentiment and diction. + +Lastly, we may consider Irene, as one other illustrious proof, that the +most strict adherence to the far-famed unities, the most harmonious +versification, and the most correct philosophy, will not vie with a +single and simple touch of nature, expressed in simple and artless +language. "But how rich in reputation must that author be, who can spare +_an Irene_, and not feel the loss [h]." + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Rambler, No. 24, and note. +[b] Boswell's Life, i. +[c] Murphy's Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson. +[d] Prologue at the opening of Drury lane theatre, 1747. +[e] Act iii. scene ii. "To-morrow's action!" &c. +[f] Act iii. scene viii. "Reflect, that life and death," &c. +[g] Act i. scene ii. "If there be any land, as fame reports," &c. +[h] Dr. Young's remark on Addison's Cato. See his Conjectures on + Original Composition. Works, vol. v. + +PROLOGUE. + +Ye glitt'ring train, whom lace and velvet bless, +Suspend the soft solicitudes of dress! +From grov'ling bus'ness and superfluous care, +Ye sons of avarice, a moment spare! +Vot'ries of fame, and worshippers of power, +Dismiss the pleasing phantoms for an hour! +Our daring bard, with spirit unconfin'd, +Spreads wide the mighty moral for mankind. +Learn here, how heaven supports the virtuous mind, +Daring, though calm; and vig'rous, though resign'd; +Learn here, what anguish racks the guilty breast, +In pow'r dependant, in success depress'd. +Learn here, that peace from innocence must flow; +All else is empty sound, and idle show. + +If truths, like these, with pleasing language join; +Ennobled, yet unchang'd, if nature shine; +If no wild draught depart from reason's rules; +Nor gods his heroes, nor his lovers fools; +Intriguing wits! his artless plot forgive; +And spare him, beauties! though his lovers live. + +Be this, at least, his praise, be this his pride; +To force applause, no modern arts are try'd. +Should partial catcals all his hopes confound, +He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound. +Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit, +He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit; +No snares, to captivate the judgment, spreads, +Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your heads. +Unmov'd, though witlings sneer, and rivals rail, +Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail, +He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain, +With merit needless, and without it vain. +In reason, nature, truth, he dares to trust: +Ye fops, be silent: and, ye wits, be just! + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + MEN. + +MAHOMET, Emperour of the Turks, Mr. BARRY. + +CALI BASSA, First vizier, Mr. BERRY. + +MUSTAPHA, A Turkish aga, Mr. SOWDEN. + +ABDALLA, An officer, Mr. HAVARD. + +HASAN, \ / Mr. USHER, + Turkish captains, +CARAZA, / \ Mr. BURTON. + +DEMETRIUS, \ / Mr. GARRICK, + Greek noblemen, +LEONTIUS, / \ MR. BLAKES. + +MURZA, An eunuch, Mr. KING. + + WOMEN. + +ASPASIA, \ / Mrs. GIBBER, + Greek ladies, +IRENE, / \ Mrs. PRITCHARD. + +Attendants on IRENE. + + +ACT I.--SCENE I. + +DEMETRIUS _and_ LEONTIUS, _in Turkish habits_. + + LEONTIUS. +And, is it thus Demetrius meets his friend, +Hid in the mean disguise of Turkish robes, +With servile secrecy to lurk in shades, +And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans? + + DEMETRIUS. +Till breathless fury rested from destruction, +These groans were fatal, these disguises vain: +But, now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd +Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder, +No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood; +And weary cruelty remits her tortures. + + LEONTIUS. +Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of transient hope, +No soothing interval of peaceful sorrow: +The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest; +--The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless, +The last corruption of degen'rate man! +Urg'd by th' imperious soldiers' fierce command, +The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns, +Pregnant with stores, that India's mines might envy, +Th' accumulated wealth of toiling ages. + + DEMETRIUS. +That wealth, too sacred for their country's use! +That wealth, too pleasing to be lost for freedom! +That wealth, which, granted to their weeping prince, +Had rang'd embattled nations at our gates! +But, thus reserv'd to lure the wolves of Turkey, +Adds shame to grief, and infamy to ruin. +Lamenting av'rice, now too late, discovers +Her own neglected in the publick safety. + + LEONTIUS. +Reproach not misery.--The sons of Greece, +Ill fated race! so oft besieg'd in vain, +With false security beheld invasion. +Why should they fear?--That pow'r that kindly spreads +The clouds, a signal of impending show'rs, +To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade, +Beheld without concern expiring Greece; +And not one prodigy foretold our fate. + + DEMETRIUS. +A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it: +A feeble government, eluded laws, +A factious populace, luxurious nobles, +And all the maladies of sinking states. +When publick villany, too strong for justice, +Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin, +Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders, +Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard? +When some neglected fabrick nods beneath +The weight of years, and totters to the tempest, +Must heav'n despatch the messengers of light, +Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall? + + LEONTIUS. +Well might the weakness of our empire sink +Before such foes of more than human force: +Some pow'r invisible, from heav'n or hell, +Conducts their armies, and asserts their cause. + + DEMETRIUS. +And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought +Beyond the pow'r of constancy and courage? +Did unresisted lightning aid their cannon? +Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts? +'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Leontius, +That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs. + + LEONTIUS. +Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compassion. +Each night, protected by the friendly darkness, +Quitting my close retreat, I range the city, +And, weeping, kiss the venerable ruins; +With silent pangs, I view the tow'ring domes, +Sacred to pray'r; and wander through the streets, +Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty, +And jollity maintain'd eternal revels-- + + DEMETRIUS. +--How chang'd, alas!--Now ghastly desolation, +In triumph, sits upon our shatter'd spires; +Now superstition, ignorance, and errour, +Usurp our temples, and profane our altars. + + LEONTIUS. +From ev'ry palace bursts a mingled clamour, +The dreadful dissonance of barb'rous triumph, +Shrieks of affright, and waitings of distress. +Oft when the cries of violated beauty +Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast, +I felt thy pains, and trembled for Aspasia. + + DEMETRIUS. +Aspasia!--spare that lov'd, that mournful name: +Dear, hapless maid--tempestuous grief o'erbears +My reasoning pow'rs--Dear, hapless, lost Aspasia! + + LEONTIUS. +Suspend the thought. + + DEMETRIUS. + All thought on her is madness; +Yet let me think--I see the helpless maid; +Behold the monsters gaze with savage rapture, +Behold how lust and rapine struggle round her! + + LEONTIUS. +Awake, Demetrius, from this dismal dream; +Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; +Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; +Think on the sudden change of human scenes; +Think on the various accidents of war; +Think on the mighty pow'r of awful virtue; +Think on that providence that guards the good. + + DEMETRIUS. +O providence! extend thy care to me; +For courage droops, unequal to the combat; +And weak philosophy denies her succours. +Sure, some kind sabre in the heat of battle, +Ere yet the foe found leisure to be cruel, +Dismiss'd her to the sky. + + LEONTIUS. + Some virgin martyr, +Perhaps, enamour'd of resembling virtue, +With gentle hand, restrain'd the streams of life, +And snatch'd her timely from her country's fate. + + DEMETRIUS. +From those bright regions of eternal day, +Where now thou shin'st among thy fellow-saints, +Array'd in purer light, look down on me: +In pleasing visions and assuasive dreams, +O! sooth my soul, and teach me how to lose thee. + + LEONTIUS. +Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius: +I come obedient to thy friendly summons, +And hop'd to share thy counsels, not thy sorrows: +While thus we mourn the fortune of Aspasia, +To what are we reserv'd? + + DEMETRIUS. + To what I know not: +But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; +If happiness can be, without Aspasia. + + LEONTIUS. +But whence this new-sprung hope? + + DEMETRIUS. + From Cali bassa, +The chief, whose wisdom guides the Turkish counsels. +He, tir'd of slav'ry, though the highest slave, +Projects, at once, our freedom and his own; +And bids us, thus disguis'd, await him here. + + LEONTIUS. +Can he restore the state he could not save? +In vain, when Turkey's troops assail'd our walls, +His kind intelligence betray'd their measures; +Their arms prevail'd, though Cali was our friend. + + DEMETRIUS. +When the tenth sun had set upon our sorrows, +At midnight's private hour, a voice unknown +Sounds in my sleeping ear, 'Awake, Demetrius, +Awake, and follow me to better fortunes.' +Surpris'd I start, and bless the happy dream; +Then, rousing, know the fiery chief Abdalla, +Whose quick impatience seiz'd my doubtful hand, +And led me to the shore where Cali stood, +Pensive, and list'ning to the beating surge. +There, in soft hints, and in ambiguous phrase, +With all the diffidence of long experience, +That oft had practis'd fraud, and oft detected, +The vet'ran courtier half reveal'd his project. +By his command, equipp'd for speedy flight, +Deep in a winding creek a galley lies, +Mann'd with the bravest of our fellow-captives, +Selected by my care, a hardy band, +That long to hail thee chief. + + LEONTIUS. + But what avails +So small a force? or, why should Cali fly? +Or, how can Call's flight restore our country? + + DEMETRIUS. +Reserve these questions for a safer hour; +Or hear himself, for see the bassa comes. + + +SCENE II. + +DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI. + + CALI. +Now summon all thy soul, illustrious Christian! +Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee: +The courtier's policy, the sage's firmness, +The warriour's ardour, and the patriot's zeal. +If, chasing past events with vain pursuit, +Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being, +A single thought now rove, recall it home.-- +But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause, +The cause of liberty, the cause of nations? + + DEMETRIUS. +Observe him closely, with a statesman's eye, +Thou, that hast long perus'd the draughts of nature, +And know'st the characters of vice and virtue, +Left by the hand of heav'n on human clay. + +CALI. +His mien is lofty, his demeanour great; +Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air; +Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes. +Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen, +But cautious age suspects the flatt'ring form, +And only credits what experience tells. +Has silence press'd her seal upon his lips? +Does adamantine faith invest his heart? +Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown? +Will he not melt before ambition's fire? +Will he not soften in a friend's embrace? +Or flow dissolving in a woman's tears? + + DEMETRIUS. +Sooner the trembling leaves shall find a voice, +And tell the secrets of their conscious walks; +Sooner the breeze shall catch the flying sounds, +And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason. +Your slaughter'd multitudes, that swell the shore +With monuments of death, proclaim his courage; +Virtue and liberty engross his soul, +And leave no place for perfidy, or fear. + + LEONTIUS. +I scorn a trust unwillingly repos'd; +Demetrius will not lead me to dishonour; +Consult in private, call me, when your scheme +Is ripe for action, and demands the sword. [_Going_. + + DEMETRIUS. +Leontius, stay. + + CALI. +Forgive an old man's weakness, +And share the deepest secrets of my soul, +My wrongs, my fears, my motives, my designs.-- +When unsuccessful wars, and civil factions +Embroil'd the Turkish state, our sultan's father, +Great Amurath, at my request, forsook +The cloister's ease, resum'd the tott'ring throne, +And snatch'd the reins of abdicated pow'r +From giddy Mahomet's unskilful hand. +This fir'd the youthful king's ambitious breast: +He murmurs vengeance, at the name of Cali, +And dooms my rash fidelity to ruin. + + DEMETRIUS. +Unhappy lot of all that shine in courts, +For forc'd compliance, or for zealous virtue, +Still odious to the monarch, or the people. + + CALI. +Such are the woes, when arbitrary pow'r +And lawless passion hold the sword of justice. +If there be any land, as fame reports, +Where common laws restrain the prince and subject, +A happy land, where circulating pow'r +Flows through each member of th' embodied state; +Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, +Her grateful sons shine bright with every virtue; +Untainted with the lust of innovation, +Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule +Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature +That links the jarring elements in peace. + + LEONTIUS. +But say, great bassa, why the sultan's anger, +Burning in vain, delays the stroke of death? + + CALI. +Young, and unsettled in his father's kingdoms, +Fierce as he was, he dreaded to destroy +The empire's darling, and the soldier's boast; +But now confirm'd, and swelling with his conquests, +Secure, he tramples my declining fame, +Frowns unrestrain'd, and dooms me with his eyes. + + DEMETRIUS. +What can reverse thy doom? + + CALI. + The tyrant's death. + + DEMETRIUS. +But Greece is still forgot. + + CALI. + On Asia's coast, +Which lately bless'd my gentle government, +Soon as the sultan's unexpected fate +Fills all th' astonish'd empire with confusion, +My policy shall raise an easy throne; +The Turkish pow'rs from Europe shall retreat, +And harass Greece no more with wasteful war. +A galley mann'd with Greeks, thy charge, Leontius, +Attends to waft us to repose and safety. + + DEMETRIUS. +That vessel, if observ'd, alarms the court, +And gives a thousand fatal questions birth: +Why stor'd for flight? and why prepar'd by Cali? + + CALI. +This hour I'll beg, with unsuspecting face, +Leave to perform my pilgrimage to Mecca; +Which granted, hides my purpose from the world, +And, though refus'd, conceals it from the sultan. + + LEONTIUS. +How can a single hand attempt a life, +Which armies guard, and citadels enclose? + + CALI. +Forgetful of command, with captive beauties, +Far from his troops, he toys his hours away. +A roving soldier seiz'd, in Sophia's temple, +A virgin, shining with distinguish'd charms, +And brought his beauteous plunder to the sultan-- + + DEMETRIUS. +In Sophia's temple!--What alarm!--Proceed. + + CALI. +The sultan gaz'd, he wonder'd, and he lov'd: +In passion lost, he bade the conqu'ring fair +Renounce her faith, and be the queen of Turkey. +The pious maid, with modest indignation, +Threw back the glitt'ring bribe. + + DEMETRIUS. + Celestial goodness! +It must, it must be she;--her name? + + CALI. + Aspasia. + + DEMETRIUS. +What hopes, what terrours, rush upon my soul! +O lead me quickly to the scene of fate; +Break through the politician's tedious forms; +Aspasia calls me, let me fly to save her. + + LEONTIUS. +Did Mahomet reproach, or praise her virtue? + + CALI. +His offers, oft repeated, still refus'd, +At length rekindled his accustomed fury, +And chang'd th' endearing smile, and am'rous whisper +To threats of torture, death, and violation. + + DEMETRIUS. +These tedious narratives of frozen age +Distract my soul;--despatch thy ling'ring tale; +Say, did a voice from heav'n restrain the tyrant? +Did interposing angels guard her from him? + + CALI. +Just in the moment of impending fate, +Another plund'rer brought the bright Irene; +Of equal beauty, but of softer mien, +Fear in her eye, submission on her tongue, +Her mournful charms attracted his regards, +Disarm'd his rage, and, in repeated visits, +Gain'd all his heart; at length, his eager love +To her transferr'd the offer of a crown, + + LEONTIUS. +Nor found again the bright temptation fail? + + CALI. +Trembling to grant, nor daring to refuse, +While heav'n and Mahomet divide her fears, +With coy caresses and with pleasing wiles +She feeds his hopes, and sooths him to delay. +For her, repose is banish'd from the night, +And bus'ness from the day: in her apartments +He lives-- + + LEONTIUS. + And there must fall. + + CALI. +But yet, th' attempt +Is hazardous. + + LEONTIUS. + Forbear to speak of hazards; +What has the wretch, that has surviv'd his country, +His friends, his liberty, to hazard? + + CALI. + Life. + + DEMETRIUS. +Th' inestimable privilege of breathing! +Important hazard! What's that airy bubble, +When weigh'd with Greece, with virtue, with Aspasia?-- +A floating atom, dust that falls, unheeded, +Into the adverse scale, nor shakes the balance. + + CALI. +At least, this day be calm--If we succeed, +Aspasia's thine, and all thy life is rapture.-- +See! Mustapha, the tyrant's minion, comes; +Invest Leontius with his new command; +And wait Abdalla's unsuspected visits: +Remember freedom, glory, Greece, and love. +[_Exeunt_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + MUSTAPHA. +By what enchantment does this lovely Greek +Hold in her chains the captivated sultan? +He tires his fav'rites with Irene's praise, +And seeks the shades to muse upon Irene; +Irene steals, unheeded, from his tongue, +And mingles, unperceiv'd, with ev'ry thought. + + CALI. +Why should the sultan shun the joys of beauty, +Or arm his breast against the force of love? +Love, that with sweet vicissitude relieves +The warriour's labours and the monarch's cares. +But, will she yet receive the faith of Mecca? + + MUSTAPHA. +Those pow'rful tyrants of the female breast, +Fear and ambition, urge her to compliance; +Dress'd in each charm of gay magnificence, +Alluring grandeur courts her to his arms, +Religion calls her from the wish'd embrace, +Paints future joys, and points to distant glories. + + CALI. +Soon will th' unequal contest be decided. +Prospects, obscur'd by distance, faintly strike; +Each pleasure brightens, at its near approach, +And ev'ry danger shocks with double horrour. + + MUSTAPHA. +How shall I scorn the beautiful apostate! +How will the bright Aspasia shine above her! + + CALI. +Should she, for proselytes are always zealous, +With pious warmth receive our prophet's law-- + + MUSTAPHA. +Heav'n will contemn the mercenary fervour, +Which love of greatness, not of truth, inflames. + + CALI. +Cease, cease thy censures; for the sultan comes +Alone, with am'rous haste to seek his love. + + +SCENE IV. + +MAHOMET, CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + CALI. +Hail! terrour of the monarchs of the world; +Unshaken be thy throne, as earth's firm base; +Live, till the sun forgets to dart his beams, +And weary planets loiter in their courses! + + MAHOMET. +But, Cali, let Irene share thy prayers; +For what is length of days, without Irene? +I come from empty noise, and tasteless pomp, +From crowds, that hide a monarch from himself, +To prove the sweets of privacy and friendship, +And dwell upon the beauties of Irene. + + CALI. +O may her beauties last, unchang'd by time, +As those that bless the mansions of the good! + + MAHOMET. +Each realm, where beauty turns the graceful shape, +Swells the fair breast, or animates the glance, +Adorns my palace with its brightest virgins; +Yet, unacquainted with these soft emotions, +I walk'd superiour through the blaze of charms, +Prais'd without rapture, left without regret. +Why rove I now, when absent from my fair, +From solitude to crowds, from crowds to solitude, +Still restless, till I clasp the lovely maid, +And ease my loaded soul upon her bosom? + + MUSTAPHA. +Forgive, great sultan, that intrusive duty +Inquires the final doom of Menodorus, +The Grecian counsellor. + + MAHOMET. + Go, see him die; +His martial rhet'rick taught the Greeks resistance; +Had they prevail'd, I ne'er had known Irene. + +[_Exit_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE V. + +MAHOMET, CALI. + + MAHOMET. +Remote from tumult, in th' adjoining palace, +Thy care shall guard this treasure of my soul: +There let Aspasia, since my fair entreats it, +With converse chase the melancholy moments. +Sure, chill'd with sixty winter camps, thy blood, +At sight of female charms, will glow no more. + + CALI. +These years, unconquer'd Mahomet, demand +Desires more pure, and other cares than love. +Long have I wish'd, before our prophet's tomb, +To pour my pray'rs for thy successful reign, +To quit the tumults of the noisy camp, +And sink into the silent grave in peace. + + MAHOMET. +What! think of peace, while haughty Scanderbeg, +Elate with conquest, in his native mountains, +Prowls o'er the wealthy spoils of bleeding Turkey! +While fair Hungaria's unexhausted valleys +Pour forth their legions; and the roaring Danube +Rolls half his floods, unheard, through shouting camps! +Nor could'st thou more support a life of sloth +Than Amurath-- + + CALI. + Still, full of Amurath! [_Aside_. + + MAHOMET. +Than Amurath, accustom'd to command, +Could bear his son upon the Turkish throne. + + CALI. +This pilgrimage our lawgiver ordain'd-- + + MAHOMET. +For those, who could not please by nobler service.-- +Our warlike prophet loves an active faith. +The holy flame of enterprising virtue +Mocks the dull vows of solitude and penance, +And scorns the lazy hermit's cheap devotion. +Shine thou, distinguish'd by superiour merit; +With wonted zeal pursue the task of war, +Till ev'ry nation reverence the koran, +And ev'ry suppliant lift his eyes to Mecca. + + CALI. +This regal confidence, this pious ardour, +Let prudence moderate, though not suppress. +Is not each realm, that smiles with kinder suns, +Or boasts a happier soil, already thine? +Extended empire, like expanded gold, +Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour. + + MAHOMET. +Preach thy dull politicks to vulgar kings, +Thou know'st not yet thy master's future greatness, +His vast designs, his plans of boundless pow'r. + When ev'ry storm in my domain shall roar, + When ev'ry wave shall beat a Turkish shore; + Then, Cali, shall the toils of battle cease, + Then dream of pray'r, and pilgrimage, and peace. + [_Exeunt_. + + +ACT II.--SCENE I. +ASPASIA, IRENE. + + IRENE. +Aspasia, yet pursue the sacred theme; +Exhaust the stores of pious eloquence, +And teach me to repel the sultan's passion. +Still, at Aspasia's voice, a sudden rapture +Exalts my soul, and fortifies my heart; +The glitt'ring vanities of empty greatness, +The hopes and fears, the joys and pains of life, +Dissolve in air, and vanish into nothing. + + ASPASIA. +Let nobler hopes and juster fears succeed, +And bar the passes of Irene's mind +Against returning guilt. + + IRENE. +When thou art absent, +Death rises to my view, with all his terrours; +Then visions, horrid as a murd'rer's dreams, +Chill my resolves, and blast my blooming virtue: +Stern torture shakes his bloody scourge before me, +And anguish gnashes on the fatal wheel. + + ASPASIA. +Since fear predominates in ev'ry thought, +And sways thy breast with absolute dominion, +Think on th' insulting scorn, the conscious pangs, +The future mis'ries, that wait th' apostate; +So shall timidity assist thy reason, +And wisdom into virtue turn thy frailty. + + IRENE. +Will not that pow'r, that form'd the heart of woman, +And wove the feeble texture of her nerves, +Forgive those fears that shake the tender frame? + + ASPASIA. +The weakness we lament, ourselves create; +Instructed, from our infant years, to court, +With counterfeited fears, the aid of man, +We learn to shudder at the rustling breeze, +Start at the light, and tremble in the dark; +Till, affectation ripening to belief, +And folly, frighted at her own chimeras, +Habitual cowardice usurps the soul. + + IRENE. +Not all, like thee, can brave the shocks of fate. +Thy soul, by nature great, enlarg'd by knowledge, +Soars unincumber'd with our idle cares, +And all Aspasia, but her beauty's man. + + ASPASIA. +Each gen'rous sentiment is thine, Demetrius, +Whose soul, perhaps, yet mindful of Aspasia, +Now hovers o'er this melancholy shade, +Well pleas'd to find thy precepts not forgotten. +Oh! could the grave restore the pious hero, +Soon would his art or valour set us free, +And bear us far from servitude and crimes. + + IRENE. +He yet may live. + + ASPASIA. + Alas! delusive dream! +Too well I know him; his immoderate courage, +Th' impetuous sallies of excessive virtue, +Too strong for love, have hurried him on death. + + +SCENE II. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, CALI, ABDALLA. + +CALI _to_ ABDALLA, _as they advance_. +Behold our future sultaness, Abdalla;-- +Let artful flatt'ry now, to lull suspicion, +Glide, through Irene, to the sultan's ear. +Would'st thou subdue th' obdurate cannibal +To tender friendship, praise him to his mistress. + +[_To_ IRENE.] + +Well may those eyes, that view these heav'nly charms, +Reject the daughters of contending kings; +For what are pompous titles, proud alliance, +Empire or wealth, to excellence like thine? + + ABDALLA. +Receive th' impatient sultan to thy arms; +And may a long posterity of monarchs, +The pride and terrour of succeeding days, +Rise from the happy bed; and future queens +Diffuse Irene's beauty through the world! + + IRENE. +Can Mahomet's imperial hand descend +To clasp a slave? or can a soul, like mine, +Unus'd to pow'r, and form'd for humbler scenes, +Support the splendid miseries of greatness? + + CALI. +No regal pageant, deck'd with casual honours, +Scorn'd by his subjects, trampled by his foes; +No feeble tyrant of a petty state, +Courts thee to shake on a dependant throne; +Born to command, as thou to charm mankind, +The sultan from himself derives his greatness. +Observe, bright maid, as his resistless voice +Drives on the tempest of destructive war, +How nation after nation falls before him. + + ABDALLA. +At his dread name the distant mountains shake +Their cloudy summits, and the sons of fierceness, +That range uncivilized from rock to rock, +Distrust th' eternal fortresses of nature, +And wish their gloomy caverns more obscure. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear this lavish pomp of dreadful praise; +The horrid images of war and slaughter +Renew our sorrows, and awake our fears. + + ABDALLA. +Cali, methinks yon waving trees afford +A doubtful glimpse of our approaching friends; +Just as I mark'd them, they forsook the shore, +And turn'd their hasty steps towards the garden. + + CALI. +Conduct these queens, Abdalla, to the palace: +Such heav'nly beauty, form'd for adoration, +The pride of monarchs, the reward of conquest! +Such beauty must not shine to vulgar eyes. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, _solus_. + +How heav'n, in scorn of human arrogance, +Commits to trivial chance the fate of nations! +While, with incessant thought, laborious man +Extends his mighty schemes of wealth and pow'r, +And towers and triumphs in ideal greatness; +Some accidental gust of opposition +Blasts all the beauties of his new creation, +O'erturns the fabrick of presumptuous reason, +And whelms the swelling architect beneath it. +Had not the breeze untwin'd the meeting boughs, +And, through the parted shade, disclos'd the Greeks, +Th' important hour had pass'd, unheeded, by, +In all the sweet oblivion of delight, +In all the fopperies of meeting lovers; +In sighs and tears, in transports and embraces, +In soft complaints, and idle protestations. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS. + + CALI. +Could omens fright the resolute and wise, +Well might we fear impending disappointments. + + LEONTIUS. +Your artful suit, your monarch's fierce denial, +The cruel doom of hapless Menodorus-- + + DEMETRIUS. +And your new charge, that dear, that heav'nly maid-- + + LEONTIUS. +All this we know already from Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such slight defeats but animate the brave +To stronger efforts and maturer counsels. + + CALI. +My doom confirm'd establishes my purpose. +Calmly he heard, till Amurath's resumption +Rose to his thought, and set his soul on fire: +When from his lips the fatal name burst out, +A sudden pause th' imperfect sense suspended, +Like the dread stillness of condensing storms. + + DEMETRIUS. +The loudest cries of nature urge us forward; +Despotick rage pursues the life of Cali; +His groaning country claims Leontius' aid; +And yet another voice, forgive me, Greece, +The pow'rful voice of love, inflames Demetrius; +Each ling'ring hour alarms me for Aspasia. + + CALI. +What passions reign among thy crew, Leontius? +Does cheerless diffidence oppress their hearts? +Or sprightly hope exalt their kindling spirits? +Do they, with pain, repress the struggling shout, +And listen eager to the rising wind? + + LEONTIUS. +All there is hope, and gaiety, and courage, +No cloudy doubts, or languishing delays; +Ere I could range them on the crowded deck, +At once a hundred voices thunder'd round me, +And ev'ry voice was liberty and Greece. + + DEMETRIUS. +Swift let us rush upon the careless tyrant, +Nor give him leisure for another crime. + + LEONTIUS. +Then let us now resolve, nor idly waste +Another hour in dull deliberation. + + CALI. +But see, where destin'd to protract our counsels, +Comes Mustapha.--Your Turkish robes conceal you. +Retire with speed, while I prepare to meet him +With artificial smiles, and seeming friendship. + + +SCENE V. + +CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + CALI. +I see the gloom, that low'rs upon thy brow; +These days of love and pleasure charm not thee; +Too slow these gentle constellations roll; +Thou long'st for stars, that frown on human kind, +And scatter discord from their baleful beams. + + MUSTAPHA. +How blest art thou, still jocund and serene, +Beneath the load of business, and of years! + + CALI. +Sure, by some wond'rous sympathy of souls, +My heart still beats responsive to the sultan's; +I share, by secret instinct, all his joys, +And feel no sorrow, while my sov'reign smiles. + + MUSTAPHA. +The sultan comes, impatient for his love; +Conduct her hither; let no rude intrusion +Molest these private walks, or care invade +These hours, assign'd to pleasure and Irene. + + +SCENE VI. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA. + + MAHOMET. +Now, Mustapha, pursue thy tale of horrour. +Has treason's dire infection reach'd my palace? +Can Cali dare the stroke of heav'nly justice, +In the dark precincts of the gaping grave, +And load with perjuries his parting soul? +Was it for this, that, sick'ning in Epirus, +My father call'd me to his couch of death, +Join'd Cali's hand to mine, and falt'ring cried, +Restrain the fervour of impetuous youth +With venerable Cali's faithful counsels? +Are these the counsels, this the faith of Cali? +Were all our favours lavish'd on a villain? +Confest?-- + + MUSTAPHA. + Confest by dying Menodorus. +In his last agonies, the gasping coward, +Amidst the tortures of the burning steel, +Still fond of life, groan'd out the dreadful secret, +Held forth this fatal scroll, then sunk to nothing. + + MAHOMET. _examining the paper_. +His correspondence with our foes of Greece! +His hand! his seal! The secrets of my soul, +Conceal'd from all but him! All, all conspire +To banish doubt, and brand him for a villain! +Our schemes for ever cross'd, our mines discover'd, +Betray'd some traitor lurking near my bosom. +Oft have I rag'd, when their wide-wasting cannon +Lay pointed at our batt'ries yet unform'd, +And broke the meditated lines of war. +Detested Cali, too, with artful wonder, +Would shake his wily head, and closely whisper, +Beware of Mustapha, beware of treason. + + MUSTAPHA. +The faith of Mustapha disdains suspicion; +But yet, great emperour, beware of treason; +Th' insidious bassa, fir'd by disappointment-- + + MAHOMET. +Shall feel the vengeance of an injur'd king. +Go, seize him, load him with reproachful chains; +Before th' assembled troops, proclaim his crimes; +Then leave him, stretch'd upon the ling'ring rack, +Amidst the camp to howl his life away. + + MUSTAPHA. +Should we, before the troops, proclaim his crimes, +I dread his arts of seeming innocence, +His bland address, and sorcery of tongue; +And, should he fall, unheard, by sudden justice, +Th' adoring soldiers would revenge their idol. + + MAHOMET. +Cali, this day, with hypocritick zeal, +Implor'd my leave to visit Mecca's temple; +Struck with the wonder of a statesman's goodness, +I rais'd his thoughts to more sublime devotion. +Now let him go, pursu'd by silent wrath, +Meet unexpected daggers in his way, +And, in some distant land, obscurely die. + + MUSTAPHA. +There will his boundless wealth, the spoil of Asia, +Heap'd by your father's ill-plac'd bounties on him, +Disperse rebellion through the eastern world; +Bribe to his cause, and list beneath his banners, +Arabia's roving troops, the sons of swiftness, +And arm the Persian heretick against thee; +There shall he waste thy frontiers, check thy conquests, +And, though at length subdued, elude thy vengeance. + + MAHOMET. +Elude my vengeance! No--My troops shall range +Th' eternal snows that freeze beyond Maeotis, +And Africk's torrid sands, in search of Cali. +Should the fierce north, upon his frozen wings, +Bear him aloft, above the wond'ring clouds, +And seat him in the pleiads' golden chariots, +Thence shall my fury drag him down to tortures; +Wherever guilt can fly, revenge can follow. + + MUSTAPHA. +Wilt thou dismiss the savage from the toils, +Only to hunt him round the ravag'd world? + + MAHOMET. +Suspend his sentence--Empire and Irene +Claim my divided soul. This wretch, unworthy +To mix with nobler cares, I'll throw aside +For idle hours, and crush him at my leisure. + + MUSTAPHA. +Let not th' unbounded greatness of his mind +Betray my king to negligence of danger. +Perhaps, the clouds of dark conspiracy +Now roll, full fraught with thunder, o'er your head. +Twice, since the morning rose, I saw the bassa, +Like a fell adder swelling in a brake, +Beneath the covert of this verdant arch, +In private conference; beside him stood +Two men unknown, the partners of his bosom; +I mark'd them well, and trac'd in either face +The gloomy resolution, horrid greatness, +And stern composure, of despairing heroes; +And, to confirm my thoughts, at sight of me, +As blasted by my presence, they withdrew, +With all the speed of terrour and of guilt. + + MAHOMET. +The strong emotions of my troubled soul +Allow no pause for art or for contrivance; +And dark perplexity distracts my counsels. +Do thou resolve: for, see, Irene comes! +At her approach each ruder gust of thought +Sinks, like the sighing of a tempest spent, +And gales of softer passion fan my bosom. +[Cali _enters with_ Irene, _and exit [Transcriber's note: sic] with_ +Mustapha. + + +SCENE VII. + +MAHOMET, IRENE. + + MAHOMET. +Wilt thou descend, fair daughter of perfection, +To hear my vows, and give mankind a queen? +Ah! cease, Irene, cease those flowing sorrows, +That melt a heart impregnable till now, +And turn thy thoughts, henceforth, to love and empire. +How will the matchless beauties of Irene, +Thus bright in tears, thus amiable in ruin, +With all the graceful pride of greatness heighten'd, +Amidst the blaze of jewels and of gold, +Adorn a throne, and dignify dominion! + + IRENE. +Why all this glare of splendid eloquence, +To paint the pageantries of guilty state? +Must I, for these, renounce the hope of heav'n, +Immortal crowns, and fulness of enjoyment? + + MAHOMET. +Vain raptures all--For your inferiour natures, +Form'd to delight, and happy by delighting, +Heav'n has reserv'd no future paradise, +But bids you rove the paths of bliss, secure +Of total death, and careless of hereafter; +While heaven's high minister, whose awful volume +Records each act, each thought of sov'reign man, +Surveys your plays with inattentive glance, +And leaves the lovely trifler unregarded. + + IRENE. +Why then has nature's vain munificence +Profusely pour'd her bounties upon woman? +Whence, then, those charms thy tongue has deign'd to flatter, +That air resistless, and enchanting blush, +Unless the beauteous fabrick was design'd +A habitation for a fairer soul? + + MAHOMET. +Too high, bright maid, thou rat'st exteriour grace: +Not always do the fairest flow'rs diffuse +The richest odours, nor the speckled shells +Conceal the gem; let female arrogance +Observe the feather'd wand'rers of the sky; +With purple varied, and bedrop'd with gold, +They prune the wing, and spread the glossy plumes, +Ordain'd, like you, to flutter and to shine, +And cheer the weary passenger with musick. + + IRENE. +Mean as we are, this tyrant of the world +Implores our smiles, and trembles at our feet. +Whence flow the hopes and fears, despair and rapture, +Whence all the bliss and agonies of love? + + MAHOMET. +Why, when the balm of sleep descends on man, +Do gay delusions, wand'ring o'er the brain, +Sooth the delighted soul with empty bliss? +To want, give affluence? and to slav'ry, freedom? +Such are love's joys, the lenitives of life, +A fancy'd treasure, and a waking dream. + + IRENE. +Then let me once, in honour of our sex, +Assume the boastful arrogance of man. +Th' attractive softness, and th' endearing smile, +And pow'rful glance, 'tis granted, are our own; +Nor has impartial nature's frugal hand +Exhausted all her nobler gifts on you. +Do not we share the comprehensive thought, +Th' enlivening wit, the penetrating reason? +Beats not the female breast with gen'rous passions, +The thirst of empire, and the love of glory? + + MAHOMET. +Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine; +Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face. +I thought (forgive, my fair,) the noblest aim, +The strongest effort of a female soul, +Was but to choose the graces of the day; +To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll, +Dispose the colours of the flowing robe, +And add new roses to the faded cheek. +Will it not charm a mind, like thine, exalted, +To shine, the goddess of applauding nations; +To scatter happiness and plenty round thee, +To bid the prostrate captive rise and live, +To see new cities tow'r, at thy command, +And blasted kingdoms flourish, at thy smile? + + IRENE. +Charm'd with the thought of blessing human kind, +Too calm I listen to the flatt'ring sounds. + + MAHOMET. +O! seize the power to bless--Irene's nod +Shall break the fetters of the groaning Christian; +Greece, in her lovely patroness secure, +Shall mourn no more her plunder'd palaces. + + IRENE. +Forbear--O! do not urge me to my ruin! + + MAHOMET. +To state and pow'r I court thee, not to ruin: +Smile on my wishes, and command the globe. +Security shall spread her shield before thee, +And love infold thee with his downy wings. + If greatness please thee, mount th' imperial seat; + If pleasure charm thee, view this soft retreat; + Here ev'ry warbler of the sky shall sing; + Here ev'ry fragrance breathe of ev'ry spring: + To deck these bow'rs each region shall combine, + And e'en our prophet's gardens envy thine: + Empire and love shall share the blissful day, + And varied life steal, unperceiv'd, away. + +[_Exeunt_. + + +ACT III.--SCENE I. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + +[CALI _enters, with a discontented air; to him enters_ ABDALLA.] + + CALI. +Is this the fierce conspirator, Abdalla? +Is this the restless diligence of treason? +Where hast thou linger'd, while th' incumber'd hours +Fly, lab'ring with the fate of future nations, +And hungry slaughter scents imperial blood? + + ABDALLA. +Important cares detain'd me from your counsels. + + CALI. +Some petty passion! some domestick trifle! +Some vain amusement of a vacant soul! +A weeping wife, perhaps, or dying friend, +Hung on your neck, and hinder'd your departure. +Is this a time for softness or for sorrow? +Unprofitable, peaceful, female virtues! +When eager vengeance shows a naked foe, +And kind ambition points the way to greatness. + + ABDALLA. +Must then ambition's votaries infringe +The laws of kindness, break the bonds of nature, +And quit the names of brother, friend, and father? + + CALI. +This sov'reign passion, scornful of restraint, +E'en from the birth, affects supreme command, +Swells in the breast, and, with resistless force, +O'erbears each gentler motion of the mind: +As, when a deluge overspreads the plains, +The wand'ring rivulet, and silver lake, +Mix undistinguish'd with the gen'ral roar. + + ABDALLA. +Yet can ambition, in Abdalla's breast, +Claim but the second place: there mighty love +Has fix'd his hopes, inquietudes, and fears, +His glowing wishes, and his jealous pangs. + + CALI. +Love is, indeed, the privilege of youth; +Yet, on a day like this, when expectation +Pants for the dread event--But let us reason-- + + ABDALLA. +Hast thou grown old, amidst the crowd of courts, +And turn'd th' instructive page of human life, +To cant, at last, of reason to a lover? +Such ill-tim'd gravity, such serious folly, +Might well befit the solitary student, +Th' unpractis'd dervis, or sequester'd faquir. +Know'st thou not yet, when love invades the soul, +That all her faculties receive his chains? +That reason gives her sceptre to his hand, +Or only struggles to be more enslav'd? +Aspasia, who can look upon thy beauties? +Who hear thee speak, and not abandon reason? +Reason! the hoary dotard's dull directress, +That loses all, because she hazards nothing! +Reason! the tim'rous pilot, that, to shun +The rocks of life, for ever flies the port! + + CALI. +But why this sudden warmth? + + ABDALLA. + Because I love: +Because my slighted passion burns in vain! +Why roars the lioness, distress'd by hunger? +Why foam the swelling waves, when tempests rise? +Why shakes the ground, when subterraneous fires +Fierce through the bursting caverns rend their way? + + CALI. +Not till this day, thou saw'st this fatal fair; +Did ever passion make so swift a progress? +Once more reflect; suppress this infant folly. + + ABDALLA. +Gross fires, enkindled by a mortal hand, +Spread, by degrees, and dread th' oppressing stream; +The subtler flames, emitted from the sky, +Flash out at once, with strength above resistance. + + CALI. +How did Aspasia welcome your address? +Did you proclaim this unexpected conquest? +Or pay, with speaking eyes, a lover's homage? + + ABDALLA. +Confounded, aw'd, and lost in admiration, +I gaz'd, I trembled; but I could not speak; +When e'en, as love was breaking off from wonder, +And tender accents quiver'd on my lips, +She mark'd my sparkling eyes, and heaving breast, +And smiling, conscious of her charms, withdrew. + +[_Enter_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius. + + CALI. +Now be, some moments, master of thyself; +Nor let Demetrius know thee for a rival. +Hence! or be calm--To disagree is ruin. + + +SCENE II. + +CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA. + + DEMETRIUS. +When will occasion smile upon our wishes, +And give the tortures of suspense a period? +Still must we linger in uncertain hope? +Still languish in our chains, and dream of freedom, +Like thirsty sailors gazing on the clouds, +Till burning death shoots through their wither'd limbs? + + CALI. +Deliverance is at hand; for Turkey's tyrant, +Sunk in his pleasures, confident and gay, +With all the hero's dull security, +Trusts to my care his mistress and his life, +And laughs, and wantons in the jaws of death. + + LEONTIUS. +So weak is man, when destin'd to destruction!-- +The watchful slumber, and the crafty trust. + + CALI. +At my command, yon iron gates unfold; +At my command, the sentinels retire; +With all the license of authority, +Through bowing slaves, I range the private rooms, +And of to-morrow's action fix the scene. + + DEMETRIUS. +To-morrow's action! Can that hoary wisdom, +Borne down with years, still dote upon to-morrow? +That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy, +The coward, and the fool, condemn'd to lose +An useless life, in waiting for to-morrow, +To gaze with longing eyes upon to-morrow, +Till interposing death destroys the prospect! +Strange! that this gen'ral fraud, from day to day, +Should fill the world with wretches undetected. +The soldier, lab'ring through a winter's march, +Still sees to-morrow drest in robes of triumph; +Still to the lover's long-expecting arms +To-morrow brings the visionary bride. +But thou, too old to bear another cheat, +Learn, that the present hour alone is man's. + + LEONTIUS. +The present hour, with open arms, invites; +Seize the kind fair, and press her to thy bosom. + + DEMETRIUS. +Who knows, ere this important morrow rise, +But fear or mutiny may taint the Greeks? +Who knows, if Mahomet's awaking anger +May spare the fatal bowstring till to-morrow? + + ABDALLA. +Had our first Asian foes but known this ardour, +We still had wander'd on Tartarian hills. +Rouse, Cali; shall the sons of conquer'd Greece +Lead us to danger, and abash their victors? +This night, with all her conscious stars, be witness, +Who merits most, Demetrius or Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Who merits most!--I knew not, we were rivals. + + CALI. +Young man, forbear--the heat of youth, no more-- +Well,--'tis decreed--This night shall fix our fate. +Soon as the veil of ev'ning clouds the sky, +With cautious secrecy, Leontius, steer +Th' appointed vessel to yon shaded bay, +Form'd by this garden jutting on the deep; +There, with your soldiers arm'd, and sails expanded, +Await our coming, equally prepar'd +For speedy flight, or obstinate defence. [Exit Leont. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, ABDALLA, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +Now pause, great bassa, from the thoughts of blood, +And kindly grant an ear to gentler sounds. +If e'er thy youth has known the pangs of absence, +Or felt th' impatience of obstructed love, +Give me, before th' approaching hour of fate, +Once to behold the charms of bright Aspasia, +And draw new virtue from her heav'nly tongue. + + CALI. +Let prudence, ere the suit be farther urg'd, +Impartial weigh the pleasure with the danger. +A little longer, and she's thine for ever. + + DEMETRIUS. +Prudence and love conspire in this request, +Lest, unacquainted with our bold attempt, +Surprise o'erwhelm her, and retard our flight. + + CALI. +What I can grant, you cannot ask in vain-- + + DEMETRIUS. +I go to wait thy call; this kind consent +Completes the gift of freedom and of life. [_Exit_ Dem. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +And this is my reward--to burn, to languish, +To rave, unheeded; while the happy Greek, +The refuse of our swords, the dross of conquest, +Throws his fond arms about Aspasia's neck, +Dwells on her lips, and sighs upon her breast. +Is't not enough, he lives by our indulgence, +But he must live to make his masters wretched? + + CALI. +What claim hast thou to plead? + + ABDALLA. +The claim of pow'r, +Th' unquestion'd claim of conquerors and kings! + + CALI. +Yet, in the use of pow'r, remember justice. + + ABDALLA. +Can then th' assassin lift his treach'rous hand +Against his king, and cry, remember justice? +Justice demands the forfeit life of Cali; +Justice demands, that I reveal your crimes; +Justice demands--but see th' approaching sultan! +Oppose my wishes, and--remember justice. + + CALI. +Disorder sits upon thy face--retire. + +[_Exit_ Abdalla; enter Mahomet. + + +SCENE V. + +CALI, MAHOMET. + + CALI. +Long be the sultan bless'd with happy love! +My zeal marks gladness dawning on thy cheek, +With raptures, such as fire the pagan crowds, +When, pale and anxious for their years to come, +They see the sun surmount the dark eclipse, +And hail, unanimous, their conqu'ring god. + + MAHOMET. +My vows, 'tis true, she hears with less aversion; +She sighs, she blushes, but she still denies. + + CALI. +With warmer courtship press the yielding fair: +Call to your aid, with boundless promises, +Each rebel wish, each traitor inclination, +That raises tumults in the female breast, +The love of pow'r, of pleasure, and of show. + + MAHOMET. +These arts I try'd, and, to inflame her more, +By hateful business hurried from her sight, +I bade a hundred virgins wait around her, +Sooth her with all the pleasures of command, +Applaud her charms, and court her to be great. + +[_Exit_ Mahomet. + + +SCENE VI. + +CALI, _solus_. + +He's gone--Here rest, my soul, thy fainting wing; +Here recollect thy dissipated pow'rs.-- +Our distant int'rests, and our diff'rent passions. +Now haste to mingle in one common centre. +And fate lies crowded in a narrow space. +Yet, in that narrow space what dangers rise!-- +Far more I dread Abdalla's fiery folly, +Than all the wisdom of the grave divan. +Reason with reason fights on equal terms; +The raging madman's unconnected schemes +We cannot obviate, for we cannot guess. +Deep in my breast be treasur'd this resolve, +When Cali mounts the throne, Abdalla dies, +Too fierce, too faithless, for neglect or trust. + +[_Enter_ Irene _with attendants_. + + +SCENE VII. + +CALI, IRENE, ASPASIA, &c. + + CALI. +Amidst the splendour of encircling beauty, +Superiour majesty proclaims thee queen, +And nature justifies our monarch's choice. + + IRENE. +Reserve this homage for some other fair; +Urge me not on to glitt'ring guilt, nor pour +In my weak ear th' intoxicating sounds. + + CALI. +Make haste, bright maid, to rule the willing world; +Aw'd by the rigour of the sultan's justice, +We court thy gentleness. + + ASPASIA. + Can Cali's voice +Concur to press a hapless captive's ruin? + + CALI. +Long would my zeal for Mahomet and thee +Detain me here. But nations call upon me, +And duty bids me choose a distant walk, +Nor taint with care the privacies of love. + + +SCENE VIII. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, _attendants_. + + ASPASIA. +If yet this shining pomp, these sudden honours, +Swell not thy soul, beyond advice or friendship, +Nor yet inspire the follies of a queen, +Or tune thine ear to soothing adulation, +Suspend awhile the privilege of pow'r, +To hear the voice of truth; dismiss thy train, +Shake off th' incumbrances of state, a moment, +And lay the tow'ring sultaness aside, + +Irene _signs to her attendants to retire_. + +While I foretell thy fate: that office done,-- +No more I boast th' ambitious name of friend, +But sink among thy slaves, without a murmur. + + IRENE. +Did regal diadems invest my brow, +Yet should my soul, still faithful to her choice, +Esteem Aspasia's breast the noblest kingdom. + + ASPASIA. +The soul, once tainted with so foul a crime, +No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour: +Those holy beings, whose superiour care +Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue, +Affrighted at impiety, like thine, +Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin[a]. + +[a] In the original copy of this tragedy, given to Mr. Langton, the + above speech is as follows; and, in Mr. Boswell's judgment, is + finer than in the present editions: + + "Nor think to say, here will I stop; + Here will I fix the limits of transgression, + Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven. + When guilt, like this, once harbours in the breast, + Those holy beings, whose unseen direction + Guides, through the maze of life, the steps of man. + Fly the detested mansions of impiety, + And quit their charge to horrour and to ruin." + + See Boswell, i. for other compared extracts from the first sketch. + --ED. + + IRENE. +Upbraid me not with fancied wickedness; +I am not yet a queen, or an apostate. +But should I sin beyond the hope of mercy, +If, when religion prompts me to refuse, +The dread of instant death restrains my tongue? + + ASPASIA. +Reflect, that life and death, affecting sounds! +Are only varied modes of endless being; +Reflect, that life, like ev'ry other blessing, +Derives its value from its use alone; +Not for itself, but for a nobler end, +Th' Eternal gave it, and that end is virtue. +When inconsistent with a greater good, +Reason commands to cast the less away: +Thus life, with loss of wealth, is well preserv'd, +And virtue cheaply say'd, with loss of life. + + IRENE. +If built on settled thought, this constancy +Not idly flutters on a boastful tongue, +Why, when destruction rag'd around our walls, +Why fled this haughty heroine from the battle? +Why, then, did not this warlike amazon +Mix in the war, and shine among the heroes? + + ASPASIA. +Heav'n, when its hand pour'd softness on our limbs, +Unfit for toil, and polish'd into weakness, +Made passive fortitude the praise of woman: +Our only arms are innocence and meekness. +Not then with raving cries I fill'd the city; +But, while Demetrius, dear, lamented name! +Pour'd storms of fire upon our fierce invaders, +Implor'd th' eternal pow'r to shield my country, +With silent sorrows, and with calm devotion. + + IRENE. +O! did Irene shine the queen of Turkey, +No more should Greece lament those pray'rs rejected; +Again, should golden splendour grace her cities, +Again, her prostrate palaces should rise, +Again, her temples sound with holy musick: +No more should danger fright, or want distress +The smiling widows, and protected orphans. + + ASPASIA. +Be virtuous ends pursued by virtuous means, +Nor think th' intention sanctifies the deed: +That maxim, publish'd in an impious age, +Would loose the wild enthusiast to destroy, +And fix the fierce usurper's bloody title; +Then bigotry might send her slaves to war, +And bid success become the test of truth: +Unpitying massacre might waste the world, +And persecution boast the call of heaven. + + IRENE. +Shall I not wish to cheer afflicted kings, +And plan the happiness of mourning millions? + + ASPASIA. +Dream not of pow'r, thou never canst attain: +When social laws first harmoniz'd the world, +Superiour man possess'd the charge of rule, +The scale of justice, and the sword of power, +Nor left us aught, but flattery and state. + + IRENE. +To me my lover's fondness will restore +Whate'er man's pride has ravish'd from our sex. + + ASPASIA. +When soft security shall prompt the sultan, +Freed from the tumults of unsettled conquest, +To fix his court, and regulate his pleasures, +Soon shall the dire seraglio's horrid gates +Close, like th' eternal bars of death, upon thee. +Immur'd, and buried in perpetual sloth, +That gloomy slumber of the stagnant soul, +There shalt thou view, from far, the quiet cottage, +And sigh for cheerful poverty in vain; +There wear the tedious hours of life away, +Beneath each curse of unrelenting heav'n, +Despair and slav'ry, solitude and guilt. + + IRENE. +There shall we find the yet untasted bliss +Of grandeur and tranquillity combin'd. + + ASPASIA. +Tranquillity and guilt, disjoin'd by heaven, +Still stretch in vain their longing arms afar; +Nor dare to pass th' insuperable bound. +Ah! let me rather seek the convent's cell; +There, when my thoughts, at interval of prayer, +Descend to range these mansions of misfortune, +Oft shall I dwell on our disastrous friendship, +And shed the pitying tear for lost Irene. + + IRENE. +Go, languish on in dull obscurity; +Thy dazzled soul, with all its boasted greatness, +Shrinks at th' o'erpow'ring gleams of regal state, +Stoops from the blaze, like a degen'rate eagle, +And flies for shelter to the shades of life. + + ASPASIA. +On me should providence, without a crime, +The weighty charge of royalty confer; +Call me to civilize the Russian wilds, +Or bid soft science polish Britain's heroes; +Soon should'st thou see, how false thy weak reproach, +My bosom feels, enkindled from the sky, +The lambent flames of mild benevolence, +Untouch'd by fierce ambition's raging fires. + + IRENE. +Ambition is the stamp, impress'd by heav'n +To mark the noblest minds; with active heat +Inform'd, they mount the precipice of pow'r, +Grasp at command, and tow'r in quest of empire; +While vulgar souls compassionate their cares, +Gaze at their height, and tremble at their danger: +Thus meaner spirits, with amazement, mark +The varying seasons, and revolving skies, +And ask, what guilty pow'r's rebellious hand +Rolls with eternal toil the pond'rous orbs; +While some archangel, nearer to perfection, +In easy state, presides o'er all their motions, +Directs the planets, with a careless nod, +Conducts the sun, and regulates the spheres. + + ASPASIA. +Well may'st thou hide in labyrinths of sound +The cause that shrinks from reason's pow'rful voice. +Stoop from thy flight, trace back th' entangled thought, +And set the glitt'ring fallacy to view. +Not pow'r I blame, but pow'r obtain'd by crime; +Angelick greatness is angelick virtue. +Amidst the glare of courts, the shout of armies, +Will not th' apostate feel the pangs of guilt, +And wish, too late, for innocence and peace, +Curst, as the tyrant of th' infernal realms, +With gloomy state and agonizing pomp? + + +SCENE IX. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, MAID. + + MAID. +A Turkish stranger, of majestick mien, +Asks at the gate admission to Aspasia, +Commission'd, as he says, by Cali bassa. + + IRENE. +Whoe'er thou art, or whatsoe'er thy message, [Aside. +Thanks for this kind relief--With speed admit him. + + ASPASIA. +He comes, perhaps, to separate us for ever; +When I am gone, remember, O! remember, +That none are great, or happy, but the virtuous. + +[_Exit_ Irene; _enter_ Demetrius. + + +SCENE X. + +ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +'Tis she--my hope, my happiness, my love! +Aspasia! do I, once again, behold thee? +Still, still the same--unclouded by misfortune! +Let my blest eyes for ever gaze-- + + ASPASIA. + Demetrius! + + DEMETRIUS. +Why does the blood forsake thy lovely cheek? +Why shoots this chilness through thy shaking nerves? +Why does thy soul retire into herself? +Recline upon my breast thy sinking beauties: +Revive--Revive to freedom and to love. + + ASPASIA. +What well-known voice pronounc'd the grateful sounds, +Freedom and love? Alas! I'm all confusion; +A sudden mist o'ercasts my darken'd soul; +The present, past, and future swim before me, +Lost in a wild perplexity of joy. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such ecstasy of love, such pure affection, +What worth can merit? or what faith reward? + + ASPASIA. +A thousand thoughts, imperfect and distracted, +Demand a voice, and struggle into birth; +A thousand questions press upon my tongue, +But all give way to rapture and Demetrius. + + DEMETRIUS. +O say, bright being, in this age of absence, +What fears, what griefs, what dangers, hast thou known? +Say, how the tyrant threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd! +Say, how he threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd in vain! +Say, how the hand of violence was rais'd! +Say, how thou call'dst in tears upon Demetrius! + + ASPASIA. +Inform me rather, how thy happy courage +Stemm'd in the breach the deluge of destruction, +And pass'd, uninjur'd, through the walks of death. +Did savage anger and licentious conquest +Behold the hero with Aspasia's eyes? +And, thus protected in the gen'ral ruin, +O! say, what guardian pow'r convey'd thee hither. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such strange events, such unexpected chances, +Beyond my warmest hope, or wildest wishes, +Concurr'd to give me to Aspasia's arms, +I stand amaz'd, and ask, if yet I clasp thee. + + ASPASIA. +Sure heav'n, (for wonders are not wrought in vain!) +That joins us thus, will never part us more. + + +SCENE XI. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +It parts you now--The hasty sultan sign'd +The laws unread, and flies to his Irene. + + DEMETRIUS. +Fix'd and intent on his Irene's charms, +He envies none the converse of Aspasia. + + ABDALLA. +Aspasia's absence will inflame suspicion; +She cannot, must not, shall not, linger here; +Prudence and friendship bid me force her from you. + + DEMETRIUS. +Force her! profane her with a touch, and die! + + ABDALLA. +'Tis Greece, 'tis freedom, calls Aspasia hence; +Your careless love betrays your country's cause. + + DEMETRIUS. +If we must part-- + + ASPASIA. + No! let us die together. + + DEMETRIUS. +If we must part-- + + ABDALLA. + Despatch; th' increasing danger +Will not admit a lover's long farewell, +The long-drawn intercourse of sighs and kisses. + + DEMETRIUS. +Then--O! my fair, I cannot bid thee go. +Receive her, and protect her, gracious heav'n! +Yet let me watch her dear departing steps; +If fate pursues me, let it find me here. + Reproach not, Greece, a lover's fond delays, + Nor think thy cause neglected, while I gaze; + New force, new courage, from each glance I gain, + And find our passions not infus'd in vain. [_Exeunt_. + + +ACT IV.--SCENE I. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, _enter as talking_. + + ASPASIA. +Enough--resistless reason calms my soul-- +Approving justice smiles upon your cause, +And nature's rights entreat th' asserting sword. +Yet, when your hand is lifted to destroy, +Think, but excuse a woman's needless caution,-- +Purge well thy mind from ev'ry private passion, +Drive int'rest, love, and vengeance, from thy thoughts; +Fill all thy ardent breast with Greece and virtue; +Then strike secure, and heav'n assist the blow! + + DEMETRIUS. +Thou kind assistant of my better angel, +Propitious guide of my bewilder'd soul, +Calm of my cares, and guardian of my virtue! + + ASPASIA. +My soul, first kindled by thy bright example, +To noble thought and gen'rous emulation, +Now but reflects those beams that flow'd from thee. + + DEMETRIUS. +With native lustre and unborrow'd greatness, +Thou shin'st, bright maid, superiour to distress; +Unlike the trifling race of vulgar beauties, +Those glitt'ring dewdrops of a vernal morn, +That spread their colours to the genial beam, +And, sparkling, quiver to the breath of May; +But, when the tempest, with sonorous wing, +Sweeps o'er the grove, forsake the lab'ring bough, +Dispers'd in air, or mingled with the dust. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear this triumph--still new conflicts wait us, +Foes unforeseen, and dangers unsuspected. +Oft, when the fierce besiegers' eager host +Beholds the fainting garrison retire, +And rushes joyful to the naked wall, +Destruction flashes from th' insidious mine, +And sweeps th' exulting conqueror away. +Perhaps, in vain the sultan's anger spar'd me, +To find a meaner fate from treach'rous friendship-- +Abdalla!-- + + DEMETRIUS. + Can Abdalla then dissemble! +That fiery chief, renown'd for gen'rous freedom, +For zeal unguarded, undissembled hate, +For daring truth, and turbulence of honour! + + ASPASIA. +This open friend, this undesigning hero, +With noisy falsehoods, forc'd me from your arms, +To shock my virtue with a tale of love. + + DEMETRIUS. +Did not the cause of Greece restrain my sword, +Aspasia should not fear a second insult. + + ASPASIA. +His pride and love, by turns, inspir'd his tongue, +And intermix'd my praises with his own; +His wealth, his rank, his honours, he recounted, +Till, in the midst of arrogance and fondness, +Th' approaching sultan forc'd me from the palace; +Then, while he gaz'd upon his yielding mistress, +I stole, unheeded, from their ravish'd eyes, +And sought this happy grove in quest of thee. + + DEMETRIUS. +Soon may the final stroke decide our fate, +Lest baleful discord crush our infant scheme, +And strangled freedom perish in the birth! + + ASPASIA. +My bosom, harass'd with alternate passions, +Now hopes, now fears-- + + DEMETRIUS. + Th' anxieties of love. + + ASPASIA. +Think, how the sov'reign arbiter of kingdoms +Detests thy false associates' black designs, +And frowns on perjury, revenge, and murder. +Embark'd with treason on the seas of fate, +When heaven shall bid the swelling billows rage, +And point vindictive lightnings at rebellion, +Will not the patriot share the traitor's danger? +Oh! could thy hand, unaided, free thy country, +Nor mingled guilt pollute the sacred cause! + + DEMETRIUS. +Permitted oft, though not inspir'd, by heaven, +Successful treasons punish impious kings. + + ASPASIA. +Nor end my terrours with the sultan's death; +Far as futurity's untravell'd waste +Lies open to conjecture's dubious ken, +On ev'ry side confusion, rage, and death, +Perhaps, the phantoms of a woman's fear, +Beset the treach'rous way with fatal ambush; +Each Turkish bosom burns for thy destruction, +Ambitious Cali dreads the statesman's arts, +And hot Abdalla hates the happy lover. + + DEMETRIUS. +Capricious man! to good and ill inconstant, +Too much to fear or trust is equal weakness. +Sometimes the wretch, unaw'd by heav'n or hell, +With mad devotion idolizes honour. +The bassa, reeking with his master's murder, +Perhaps, may start at violated friendship. + + ASPASIA. +How soon, alas! will int'rest, fear, or envy, +O'erthrow such weak, such accidental virtue, +Nor built on faith, nor fortified by conscience! + + DEMETRIUS. +When desp'rate ills demand a speedy cure, +Distrust is cowardice, and prudence folly. + + ASPASIA. +Yet, think a moment, ere you court destruction, +What hand, when death has snatch'd away Demetrius, +Shall guard Aspasia from triumphant lust. + + DEMETRIUS. +Dismiss these needless fears--a troop of Greeks, +Well known, long try'd, expect us on the shore. +Borne on the surface of the smiling deep, +Soon shalt thou scorn, in safety's arms repos'd, +Abdalla's rage and Cali's stratagems. + + ASPASIA. +Still, still, distrust sits heavy on my heart. +Will e'er a happier hour revisit Greece? + + DEMETRIUS. +Should heav'n, yet unappeas'd, refuse its aid, +Disperse our hopes, and frustrate our designs, +Yet shall the conscience of the great attempt +Diffuse a brightness on our future days; +Nor will his country's groans reproach Demetrius. +But how canst thou support the woes of exile? +Canst thou forget hereditary splendours, +To live obscure upon a foreign coast, +Content with science, innocence, and love? + + ASPASIA. +Nor wealth, nor titles, make Aspasia's bliss. +O'erwhelm'd and lost amidst the publick ruins, +Unmov'd, I saw the glitt'ring trifles perish, +And thought the petty dross beneath a sigh. +Cheerful I follow to the rural cell; +Love be my wealth, and my distinction virtue. + + DEMETRIUS. +Submissive, and prepar'd for each event, +Now let us wait the last award of heav'n, +Secure of happiness from flight or conquest; +Nor fear the fair and learn'd can want protection. +The mighty Tuscan courts the banish'd arts +To kind Italia's hospitable shades; +There shall soft leisure wing th' excursive soul, +And peace, propitious, smile on fond desire; +There shall despotick eloquence resume +Her ancient empire o'er the yielding heart; +There poetry shall tune her sacred voice, +And wake from ignorance the western world. + + +SCENE II. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, CALI. + + CALI. +At length th' unwilling sun resigns the world +To silence and to rest. The hours of darkness, +Propitious hours to stratagem and death, +Pursue the last remains of ling'ring light. + + DEMETRIUS. +Count not these hours, as parts of vulgar time; +Think them a sacred treasure lent by heaven, +Which, squander'd by neglect, or fear, or folly, +No prayer recalls, no diligence redeems. +To-morrow's dawn shall see the Turkish king +Stretch'd in the dust, or tow'ring on his throne; +To-morrow's dawn shall see the mighty Cali +The sport of tyranny, or lord of nations. + + CALI. +Then waste no longer these important moments +In soft endearments, and in gentle murmurs; +Nor lose, in love, the patriot and the hero. + + DEMETRIUS. +'Tis love, combin'd with guilt alone, that melts +The soften'd soul to cowardice and sloth; +But virtuous passion prompts the great resolve, +And fans the slumbering spark of heavenly fire. +Retire, my fair; that pow'r that smiles on goodness, +Guide all thy steps, calm ev'ry stormy thought, +And still thy bosom with the voice of peace! + + ASPASIA. +Soon may we meet again, secure and free, +To feel no more the pangs of separation! [_Exit_. + +DEMETRIUS, CALI. + + DEMETRIUS. +This night alone is ours--Our mighty foe, +No longer lost in am'rous solitude, +Will now remount the slighted seat of empire, +And show Irene to the shouting people: +Aspasia left her, sighing in his arms, +And list'ning to the pleasing tale of pow'r; +With soften'd voice she dropp'd the faint refusal, +Smiling consent she sat, and blushing love. + + CALI. +Now, tyrant, with satiety of beauty +Now feast thine eyes; thine eyes, that ne'er hereafter +Shall dart their am'rous glances at the fair, +Or glare on Cali with malignant beams. + + +SCENE III. + +DEMETRIUS, CALI, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA. + + LEONTIUS. +Our bark, unseen, has reach'd th' appointed bay, +And, where yon trees wave o'er the foaming surge, +Reclines against the shore: our Grecian troop +Extends its lines along the sandy beach, +Elate with hope, and panting for a foe. + + ABDALLA. +The fav'ring winds assist the great design, +Sport in our sails, and murmur o'er the deep. + + CALI. +'Tis well--A single blow completes our wishes; +Return with speed, Leontius, to your charge; +The Greeks, disorder'd by their leader's absence, +May droop dismay'd, or kindle into madness. + + + LEONTIUS. +Suspected still!--What villain's pois'nous tongue +Dares join Leontius' name with fear or falsehood? +Have I for this preserv'd my guiltless bosom, +Pure as the thoughts of infant innocence? +Have I for this defy'd the chiefs of Turkey, +Intrepid in the flaming front of war? + + CALI. +Hast thou not search'd my soul's profoundest thoughts? +Is not the fate of Greece and Cali thine? + + LEONTIUS. +Why has thy choice then pointed out Leontius, +Unfit to share this night's illustrious toils? +To wait, remote from action, and from honour, +An idle list'ner to the distant cries +Of slaughter'd infidels, and clash of swords? +Tell me the cause, that while thy name, Demetrius, +Shall soar, triumphant on the wings of glory, +Despis'd and curs'd, Leontius must descend +Through hissing ages, a proverbial coward, +The tale of women, and the scorn of fools? + + DEMETRIUS. +Can brave Leontius be the slave of glory? +Glory, the casual gift of thoughtless crowds! +Glory, the bribe of avaricious virtue! +Be but my country free, be thine the praise; +I ask no witness, but attesting conscience, +No records, but the records of the sky. + + LEONTIUS. +Wilt thou then head the troop upon the shore, +While I destroy th' oppressor of mankind? + + DEMETRIUS. +What canst thou boast superiour to Demetrius? +Ask, to whose sword the Greeks will trust their cause, +My name shall echo through the shouting field: +Demand, whose force yon Turkish heroes dread, +The shudd'ring camp shall murmur out Demetrius. + + CALI +Must Greece, still wretched by her children's folly, +For ever mourn their avarice or factions? +Demetrius justly pleads a double title; +The lover's int'rest aids the patriot's claim. + + LEONTIUS. +My pride shall ne'er protract my country's woes; +Succeed, my friend, unenvied by Leontius. + + DEMETRIUS. +I feel new spirit shoot along my nerves; +My soul expands to meet approaching freedom. +Now hover o'er us, with propitious wings, +Ye sacred shades of patriots and of martyrs! +All ye, whose blood tyrannick rage effus'd, +Or persecution drank, attend our call; +I And from the mansions of perpetual peace +Descend, to sweeten labours, once your own! + + CALI. +Go then, and with united eloquence +Confirm your troops; and, when the moon's fair beam +Plays on the quiv'ring waves, to guide our flight, +Return, Demetrius, and be free for ever. + [_Exeunt_ Dem. _and_ Leon. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +How the new monarch, swell'd with airy rule, +Looks down, contemptuous, from his fancy'd height, +And utters fate, unmindful of Abdalla! + + CALI. +Far be such black ingratitude from Cali! +When Asia's nations own me for their lord, +Wealth, and command, and grandeur shall be thine! + + ABDALLA. +Is this the recompense reserv'd for me? +Dar'st thou thus dally with Abdalla's passion? +Henceforward, hope no more my slighted friendship; +Wake from thy dream of power to death and tortures, +And bid thy visionary throne farewell. + + CALI. +Name, and enjoy thy wish-- + + ABDALLA. + I need not name it; +Aspasia's lovers know but one desire, +Nor hope, nor wish, nor live, but for Aspasia. + + CALI. +That fatal beauty, plighted to Demetrius, +Heaven makes not mine to give. + + ABDALLA. + Nor to deny. + + CALI. +Obtain her, and possess; thou know'st thy rival. + + ABDALLA. +Too well I know him, since, on Thracia's plains, +I felt the force of his tempestuous arm, +And saw my scatter'd squadrons fly before him. +Nor will I trust th' uncertain chance of combat; +The rights of princes let the sword decide, +The petty claims of empire and of honour: +Revenge and subtle jealousy shall teach +A surer passage to his hated heart. + + CALI. +Oh! spare the gallant Greek, in him we lose +The politician's arts, and hero's flame. + + ABDALLA. +When next we meet, before we storm the palace, +The bowl shall circle to confirm our league; +Then shall these juices taint Demetrius' draught, + [_Showing a phial_. +And stream, destructive, through his freezing veins: +Thus shall he live to strike th' important blow, +And perish, ere he taste the joys of conquest. + + +SCENE V. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, CALI, ABDALLA. + + MAHOMET. +Henceforth, for ever happy be this day, +Sacred to love, to pleasure, and Irene! +The matchless fair has bless'd me with compliance; +Let every tongue resound Irene's praise, +And spread the gen'ral transport through mankind. + + CALI. +Blest prince, for whom indulgent heav'n ordains, +At once, the joys of paradise and empire, +Now join thy people's and thy Cali's prayers; +Suspend thy passage to the seats of bliss, +Nor wish for houries in Irene's arms. + + MAHOMET. +Forbear--I know the long-try'd faith of Cali. + + CALI. +Oh! could the eyes of kings, like those of heav'n, +Search to the dark recesses of the soul, +Oft would they find ingratitude and treason, +By smiles, and oaths, and praises, ill disguis'd. +How rarely would they meet, in crowded courts, +Fidelity so firm, so pure, as mine. + + MUSTAPHA. +Yet, ere we give our loosen'd thoughts to rapture, +Let prudence obviate an impending danger: +Tainted by sloth, the parent of sedition, +The hungry janizary burns for plunder, +And growls, in private, o'er his idle sabre. + + MAHOMET. +To still their murmurs, ere the twentieth sun +Shall shed his beams upon the bridal bed, +I rouse to war, and conquer for Irene. +Then shall the Rhodian mourn his sinking tow'rs, +And Buda fall, and proud Vienna tremble; +Then shall Venetia feel the Turkish pow'r, +And subject seas roar round their queen in vain. + + ABDALLA. +Then seize fair Italy's delightful coast, +To fix your standard in imperial Rome. + + MAHOMET. +Her sons malicious clemency shall spare, +To form new legends, sanctify new crimes; +To canonize the slaves of superstition, +And fill the world with follies and impostures, +Till angry heav'n shall mark them out for ruin, +And war o'erwhelm them in their dream of vice. +O! could her fabled saints and boasted prayers +Call forth her ancient heroes to the field, +How should I joy, midst the fierce shock of nations, +To cross the tow'rings of an equal soul, +And bid the master-genius rule the world! +Abdalla, Cali, go--proclaim my purpose. + [_Exeunt_ Cali _and_ Abdalla. + + +SCENE VI. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA. + + MAHOMET. +Still Cali lives: and must he live to-morrow? +That fawning villain's forc'd congratulations +Will cloud my triumphs, and pollute the day. + + MUSTAPHA. +With cautious vigilance, at my command, +Two faithful captains, Hasan and Caraza, +Pursue him through his labyrinths of treason, +And wait your summons to report his conduct. + + MAHOMET. +Call them--but let them not prolong their tale, +Nor press, too much, upon a lover's patience. + [_Exit_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE VII. + +Mahomet, _Solus_. + +Whome'er the hope, still blasted, still renew'd, +Of happiness lures on from toil to toil, +Remember Mahomet, and cease thy labour. +Behold him here, in love, in war, successful; +Behold him, wretched in his double triumph! +His fav'rite faithless, and his mistress base. +Ambition only gave her to my arms, +By reason not convinc'd, nor won by love. +Ambition was her crime; but meaner folly +Dooms me to loathe, at once, and dote on falsehood, +And idolize th' apostate I contemn. +If thou art more than the gay dream of fancy, +More than a pleasing sound, without a meaning, +O happiness! sure thou art all Aspasia's. + + +SCENE VIII. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, HASAN, CARAZA. + + MAHOMET. +Caraza, speak--have ye remark'd the bassa? + + CARAZA. +Close, as we might unseen, we watch'd his steps: +His hair disorder'd, and his gait unequal, +Betray'd the wild emotions of his mind. +Sudden he stops, and inward turns his eyes, +Absorb'd in thought; then, starting from his trance, +Constrains a sullen smile, and shoots away. +With him Abdalla we beheld-- + + MUSTAPHA. + Abdalla! + + MAHOMET. +He wears, of late, resentment on his brow, +Deny'd the government of Servia's province. + + CARAZA. +We mark'd him storming in excess of fury, +And heard, within the thicket that conceal'd us, +An undistinguish'd sound of threat'ning rage. + + MUSTAPHA. +How guilt, once harbour'd in the conscious breast, +Intimidates the brave, degrades the great; +See Cali, dread of kings, and pride of armies, +By treason levell'd with the dregs of men! +Ere guilty fear depress'd the hoary chief, +An angry murmur, a rebellious frown, +Had stretch'd the fiery boaster in the grave. + + MAHOMET. +Shall monarchs fear to draw the sword of justice, +Aw'd by the crowd, and by their slaves restrain'd? +Seize him this night, and, through the private passage, +Convey him to the prison's inmost depths, +Reserv'd to all the pangs of tedious death. + [_Exeunt_ Mahomet _and_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE IX. + +HASAN, CARAZA. + + HASAN. +Shall then the Greeks, unpunish'd and conceal'd, +Contrive, perhaps, the ruin of our empire; +League with our chiefs, and propagate sedition? + + CARAZA. +Whate'er their scheme, the bassa's death defeats it, +And gratitude's strong ties restrain my tongue. + + HASAN. +What ties to slaves? what gratitude to foes? + + CARAZA. +In that black day, when slaughter'd thousands fell +Around these fatal walls, the tide of war +Bore me victorious onward, where Demetrius +Tore, unresisted, from the giant hand +Of stern Sebalias, the triumphant crescent, +And dash'd the might of Asam from the ramparts. +There I became, nor blush to make it known, +The captive of his sword. The coward Greeks, +Enrag'd by wrongs, exulting with success, +Doom'd me to die with all the Turkish captains; +But brave Demetrius scorn'd the mean revenge, +And gave me life.-- + + HASAN. + Do thou repay the gift, +Lest unrewarded mercy lose its charms. +Profuse of wealth, or bounteous of success, +When heav'n bestows the privilege to bless, +Let no weak doubt the gen'rous hand restrain; +For when was pow'r beneficent in vain? [_Exeunt._ + + +ACT V.--SCENE I. + +ASPASIA, _sola_. + +In these dark moments of suspended fate, +While yet the future fortune of my country +Lies in the womb of providence conceal'd, +And anxious angels wait the mighty birth; +O! grant thy sacred influence, pow'rful virtue! +Attentive rise, survey the fair creation, +Till, conscious of th' encircling deity, +Beyond the mists of care thy pinion tow'rs. +This calm, these joys, dear innocence! are thine: +Joys ill exchang'd for gold, and pride, and empire. + + [_Enter_ Irene _and attendants_. + + +SCENE II. + +ASPASIA, IRENE _and attendants_. + + IRENE. +See how the moon, through all th' unclouded sky, +Spreads her mild radiance, and descending dews +Revive the languid flow'rs; thus nature shone +New from the maker's hand, and fair array'd +In the bright colours of primeval spring; +When purity, while fraud was yet unknown, +Play'd fearless in th' inviolated shades. +This elemental joy, this gen'ral calm, +Is, sure, the smile of unoffended heav'n. +Yet! why-- + + MAID. + Behold, within th' embow'ring grove +Aspasia stands-- + + IRENE. + With melancholy mien, +Pensive, and envious of Irene's greatness. +Steal, unperceiv'd, upon her meditations +But see, the lofty maid, at our approach, +Resumes th' imperious air of haughty virtue. +Are these th' unceasing joys, th' unmingled pleasures, + [_To_ Aspasia. +For which Aspasia scorn'd the Turkish crown? +Is this th' unshaken confidence in heav'n? +Is this the boasted bliss of conscious virtue? +When did content sigh out her cares in secret? +When did felicity repine in deserts? + + ASPASIA. +Ill suits with guilt the gaieties of triumph; +When daring vice insults eternal justice, +The ministers of wrath forget compassion, +And snatch the flaming bolt with hasty hand. + + IRENE. +Forbear thy threats, proud prophetess of ill, +Vers'd in the secret counsels of the sky. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear!--But thou art sunk beneath reproach; +In vain affected raptures flush the cheek, +And songs of pleasure warble from the tongue, +When fear and anguish labour in the breast, +And all within is darkness and confusion. +Thus, on deceitful Etna's flow'ry side, +Unfading verdure glads the roving eye; +While secret flames, with unextinguish'd rage, +Insatiate on her wasted entrails prey, +And melt her treach'rous beauties into ruin. + [_Enter_ Demetrius. + + +SCENE III. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +Fly, fly, my love! destruction rushes on us, +The rack expects us, and the sword pursues. + + ASPASIA. +Is Greece deliver'd? is the tyrant fall'n? + + DEMETRIUS. +Greece is no more; the prosp'rous tyrant lives, +Reserv'd for other lands, the scourge of heav'n. + + ASPASIA. +Say, by what fraud, what force, were you defeated? +Betray'd by falsehood, or by crowds o'erborne? + + DEMETRIUS. +The pressing exigence forbids relation. +Abdalla-- + + ASPASIA. + Hated name! his jealous rage +Broke out in perfidy--Oh! curs'd Aspasia, +Born to complete the ruin of her country! +Hide me, oh hide me from upbraiding Greece; +Oh, hide me from myself! + + DEMETRIUS. + Be fruitless grief +The doom of guilt alone, nor dare to seize +The breast, where virtue guards the throne of peace. +Devolve, dear maid, thy sorrows on the wretch, +Whose fear, or rage, or treachery, betray'd us! + + IRENE. _aside_. +A private station may discover more; +Then let me rid them of Irene's presence; +Proceed, and give a loose to love and treason. + [_Withdraws_ + + ASPASIA. +Yet tell. + + DEMETRIUS. + To tell or hear were waste of life. + + ASPASIA. +The life, which only this design supported, +Were now well lost in hearing how you fail'd. + + DEMETRIUS. +Or meanly fraudulent or madly gay, +Abdalla, while we waited near the palace, +With ill tim'd mirth propos'd the bowl of love. +Just as it reach'd my lips, a sudden cry +Urg'd me to dash it to the ground, untouch'd, +And seize my sword with disencumber'd hand. + + ASPASIA. +What cry? The stratagem? Did then Abdalla-- + + DEMETRIUS. +At once a thousand passions fir'd his cheek! +Then all is past, he cry'd--and darted from us; +Nor, at the call of Cali, deign'd to turn. + + ASPASIA. +Why did you stay, deserted and betray'd? +What more could force attempt, or art contrive? + + DEMETRIUS. +Amazement seiz'd us, and the hoary bassa +Stood, torpid in suspense; but soon Abdalla +Return'd with force that made resistance vain, +And bade his new confed'rates seize the traitors. +Cali, disarm'd, was borne away to death; +Myself escap'd, or favour'd, or neglected. + + ASPASIA. +Oh Greece! renown'd for science and for wealth, +Behold thy boasted honours snatch'd away. + + DEMETRIUS. +Though disappointment blast our general scheme, +Yet much remains to hope. I shall not call +The day disastrous, that secures our flight; +Nor think that effort lost, which rescues thee. + [_Enter_ Abdalla. + + +SCENE IV. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +At length, the prize is mine--The haughty maid, +That bears the fate of empires in her air, +Henceforth shall live for me; for me alone +Shall plume her charms, and, with attentive watch, +Steal from Abdalla's eye the sign to smile. + + DEMETRIUS. +Cease this wild roar of savage exultation; +Advance, and perish in the frantick boast. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear, Demetrius, 'tis Aspasia calls thee; +Thy love, Aspasia, calls; restrain thy sword; +Nor rush on useless wounds, with idle courage. + + DEMETRIUS. +What now remains? + + ASPASIA. + It now remains to fly! + + DEMETRIUS. +Shall, then, the savage live, to boast his insult; +Tell, how Demetrius shunn'd his single hand, +And stole his life and mistress from his sabre? + + ABDALLA. +Infatuate loiterer, has fate, in vain, +Unclasp'd his iron gripe to set thee free? +Still dost thou flutter in the jaws of death; +Snar'd with thy fears, and maz'd in stupefaction? + + DEMETRIUS. +Forgive, my fair; 'tis life, 'tis nature calls: +Now, traitor, feel the fear that chills my hand. + + ASPASIA. +'Tis madness to provoke superfluous danger, +And cowardice to dread the boast of folly. + + ABDALLA. +Fly, wretch, while yet my pity grants thee flight; +The pow'r of Turkey waits upon my call. +Leave but this maid, resign a hopeless claim, +And drag away thy life, in scorn and safety, +Thy life, too mean a prey to lure Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Once more I dare thy sword; behold the prize, +Behold, I quit her to the chance of battle. + [_Quitting_ Aspasia. + + ABDALLA. +Well may'st thou call thy master to the combat, +And try the hazard, that hast nought to stake; +Alike my death or thine is gain to thee; +But soon thou shalt repent: another moment +Shall throw th' attending janizaries round thee. + [_Exit, hastily_, Abdalla. + + +SCENE V. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS. + + IRENE. +Abdalla fails; now, fortune, all is mine. [_Aside_. +Haste, Murza, to the palace, let the sultan + [_To one of her attendant_ +Despatch his guards to stop the flying traitors, +While I protract their stay. Be swift and faithful. + [_Exit_ Murza. +This lucky stratagem shall charm the sultan, [_Aside_. +Secure his confidence, and fix his love. + + DEMETRIUS. +Behold a boaster's worth! Now snatch, my fair, +The happy moment; hasten to the shore, +Ere he return with thousands at his side. + + ASPASIA. +In vain I listen to th' inviting call +Of freedom and of love; my trembling joints, +Relax'd with fear, refuse to bear me forward. +Depart, Demetrius, lest my fate involve thee; +Forsake a wretch abandon'd to despair, +To share the miseries herself has caus'd. + + DEMETRIUS. +Let us not struggle with th' eternal will, +Nor languish o'er irreparable ruins; +Come, haste and live--Thy innocence and truth +Shall bless our wand'rings, and propitiate heav'n. + + IRENE. +Press not her flight, while yet her feeble nerves +Refuse their office, and uncertain life +Still labours with imaginary woe; +Here let me tend her with officious care, +Watch each unquiet flutter of the breast, +And joy to feel the vital warmth return, +To see the cloud forsake her kindling cheek, +And hail the rosy dawn of rising health. + + ASPASIA. +Oh! rather, scornful of flagitious greatness, +Resolve to share our dangers and our toils, +Companion of our flight, illustrious exile, +Leave slav'ry, guilt, and infamy behind. + + IRENE. +My soul attends thy voice, and banish'd virtue +Strives to regain her empire of the mind: +Assist her efforts with thy strong persuasion; +Sure, 'tis the happy hour ordain'd above, +When vanquish'd vice shall tyrannise no more. + + DEMETRIUS. +Remember, peace and anguish are before thee, +And honour and reproach, and heav'n and hell. + + ASPASIA. +Content with freedom, and precarious greatness. + + DEMETRIUS. +Now make thy choice, while yet the pow'r of choice +Kind heav'n affords thee, and inviting mercy +Holds out her hand to lead thee back to truth. + + IRENE. +Stay--in this dubious twilight of conviction, +The gleams of reason, and the clouds of passion, +Irradiate and obscure my breast, by turns: +Stay but a moment, and prevailing truth +Will spread resistless light upon my soul. + + DEMETRIUS. +But, since none knows the danger of a moment, +And heav'n forbids to lavish life away, +Let kind compulsion terminate the contest. + [_Seizing her hand_. +Ye christian captives, follow me to freedom: +A galley waits us, and the winds invite. + + IRENE. +Whence is this violence? + + DEMETRIUS. + Your calmer thought +Will teach a gentler term. + + IRENE. + Forbear this rudeness, +And learn the rev'rence due to Turkey's queen: +Fly, slaves, and call the sultan to my rescue. + + DEMETRIUS. +Farewell, unhappy maid; may every joy +Be thine, that wealth can give, or guilt receive! + + ASPASIA. +nd when, contemptuous of imperial pow'r, +Disease shall chase the phantoms of ambition, +May penitence attend thy mournful bed, +And wing thy latest pray'r to pitying heav'n! + [_Exeunt_ Dem. Asp. _with part of the attendants_. + + +SCENE VI. + +[IRENE _walks at a distance from her attendants._] + +_After a pause_. +Against the head, which innocence secures, +Insidious malice aims her darts in vain, +Turn'd backwards by the pow'rful breath of heav'n. +Perhaps, e'en now the lovers, unpursu'd, +Bound o'er the sparkling waves. Go, happy bark, +Thy sacred freight shall still the raging main. +To guide thy passage shall th' aerial spirits +Fill all the starry lamps with double blaze; +Th' applauding sky shall pour forth all its beams, +To grace the triumph of victorious virtue; +While I, not yet familiar to my crimes, +Recoil from thought, and shudder at myself. +How am I chang'd! How lately did Irene +Fly from the busy pleasures of her sex, +Well pleas'd to search the treasures of remembrance, +And live her guiltless moments o'er anew! +Come, let us seek new pleasures in the palace, + [_To her attendants, going off_. +Till soft fatigue invite us to repose. + + +SCENE VII. + +[_Enter_ MUSTAPHA, _meeting and stopping her_.] + + MUSTAPHA. +Fair falsehood, stay. + + IRENE. + What dream of sudden power +Has taught my slave the language of command? +Henceforth, be wise, nor hope a second pardon. + + MUSTAPHA. +Who calls for pardon from a wretch condemn'd? + + IRENE. +Thy look, thy speech, thy action, all is wildness-- +Who charges guilt, on me? + + MUSTAPHA. + Who charges guilt! +Ask of thy heart; attend the voice of conscience-- +Who charges guilt! lay by this proud resentment +That fires thy cheek, and elevates thy mien, +Nor thus usurp the dignity of virtue. +Review this day. + + IRENE. + Whate'er thy accusation, +The sultan is my judge. + + MUSTAPHA. + That hope is past; +Hard was the strife of justice and of love; +But now 'tis o'er, and justice has prevail'd. +Know'st thou not Cali? know'st thou not Demetrius? + + IRENE. +Bold slave, I know them both--I know them traitors. + + MUSTAPHA. +Perfidious!--yes--too well thou know'st them traitors. + + IRENE. +Their treason throws no stain upon Irene. +This day has prov'd my fondness for the sultan; +He knew Irene's truth. + + MUSTAPHA. + The sultan knows it; +He knows, how near apostasy to treason-- +But 'tis not mine to judge--I scorn and leave thee. +I go, lest vengeance urge my hand to blood, +To blood too mean to stain a soldier's sabre. + [_Exit_ Mustapha. + +IRENE, _to her attendants_. +Go, blust'ring slave--He has not heard of Murza. +That dext'rous message frees me from suspicion. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_Enter_ HASAN, CARAZA, _with mutes, who throw the black +robe upon_ IRENE, _and sign to her attendants to withdraw_. + + HASAN. +Forgive, fair excellence, th' unwilling tongue, +The tongue, that, forc'd by strong necessity, +Bids beauty, such as thine, prepare to die. + + IRENE. +What wild mistake is this! Take hence, with speed, +Your robe of mourning, and your dogs of death. +Quick from my sight, you inauspicious monsters; +Nor dare, henceforth, to shock Irene's walks. + + HASAN. +Alas! they come commanded by the sultan, +Th' unpitying ministers of Turkish justice, +Nor dare to spare the life his frown condemns. + + IRENE. +Are these the rapid thunderbolts of war, +That pour with sudden violence on kingdoms, +And spread their flames, resistless, o'er the world? +What sleepy charms benumb these active heroes, +Depress their spirits, and retard their speed? +Beyond the fear of ling'ring punishment, +Aspasia now, within her lover's arms, +Securely sleeps, and, in delightful dreams, +Smiles at the threat'nings of defeated rage. + + CARAZA. +We come, bright virgin, though relenting nature +Shrinks at the hated task, for thy destruction. +When summon'd by the sultan's clam'rous fury, +We ask'd, with tim'rous tongue, th' offender's name, +He struck his tortur'd breast, and roar'd, Irene! +We started at the sound, again inquir'd; +Again his thund'ring voice return'd, Irene! + + IRENE. +Whence is this rage; what barb'rous tongue has wrong'd me? +What fraud misleads him? or what crimes incense? + +HASAN. +Expiring Cali nam'd Irene's chamber, +The place appointed for his master's death. + + IRENE. +Irene's chamber! From my faithful bosom +Far be the thought--But hear my protestation. + + CARAZA. +'Tis ours, alas! to punish, not to judge, +Not call'd to try the cause, we heard the sentence, +Ordain'd the mournful messengers of death. + + IRENE. +Some ill designing statesman's base intrigue! +Some cruel stratagem of jealous beauty! +Perhaps, yourselves the villains that defame me:-- +Now haste to murder, ere returning thought +Recall th' extorted doom.--It must be so: +Confess your crime, or lead me to the sultan; +There dauntless truth shall blast the vile accuser; +Then shall you feel, what language cannot utter, +Each piercing torture, ev'ry change of pain, +That vengeance can invent, or pow'r inflict. + [_Enter_ Abdalla: _he stops short and listens_. + + +SCENE IX. + +IRENE, HASAN, CARAZA, ABDALLA. + +ABDALLA, _aside_. +All is not lost, Abdalla; see the queen, +See the last witness of thy guilt and fear, +Enrob'd in death--Despatch her, and be great. + + CARAZA. +Unhappy fair! compassion calls upon me +To check this torrent of imperious rage: +While unavailing anger crowds thy tongue +With idle threats and fruitless exclamation, +The fraudful moments ply their silent wings, +And steal thy life away. Death's horrid angel +Already shakes his bloody sabre o'er thee. +The raging sultan burns, till our return, +Curses the dull delays of ling'ring mercy, +And thinks his fatal mandates ill obey'd. + + ABDALLA. +Is then your sov'reign's life so cheaply rated, +That thus you parley with detected treason? +Should she prevail to gain the sultan's presence, +Soon might her tears engage a lover's credit; +Perhaps, her malice might transfer the charge; +Perhaps, her pois'nous tongue might blast Abdalla. + + IRENE. +O! let me but be heard, nor fear from me +Or flights of pow'r, or projects of ambition. +My hopes, my wishes, terminate in life, +A little life, for grief, and for repentance. + + ABDALLA. +I mark'd her wily messenger afar, +And saw him sculking in the closest walks: +I guess'd her dark designs, and warn'd the sultan, +And bring her former sentence new-confirmed. + + HASAN. +Then call it not our cruelty, nor crime; +Deem us not deaf to woe, nor blind to beauty, +That, thus constrain'd, we speed the stroke of death. + [_Beckons the mutes_. + + IRENE. +O, name not death! Distraction and amazement, +Horrour and agony are in that sound! +Let me but live, heap woes on woes upon me; +Hide me with murd'rers in the dungeon's gloom; +Send me to wander on some pathless shore, +Let shame and hooting infamy pursue me, +Let slav'ry harass, and let hunger gripe. + + CARAZA. +Could we reverse the sentence of the sultan, +Our bleeding bosoms plead Irene's cause. +But cries and tears are vain; prepare, with patience, +To meet that fate, we can delay no longer. + [_The mutes, at the sign, lay hold of her_. + + ABDALLA. +Despatch, ye ling'ring slaves; or nimbler hands, +Quick at my call, shall execute your charge; +Despatch, and learn a fitter time for pity. + + IRENE. +Grant me one hour. O! grant me but a moment, +And bounteous heav'n repay the mighty mercy, +With peaceful death, and happiness eternal. + +CARAZA. +The pray'r I cannot grant--I dare not hear. +Short be thy pains. [_Signs again to the mutes_. + + IRENE. + Unutterable anguish! +Guilt and despair, pale spectres! grin around me, +And stun me with the yellings of damnation! +O, hear my pray'rs! accept, all-pitying heav'n, +These tears, these pangs, these last remains of life; +Nor let the crimes of this detested day +Be charg'd upon my soul. O, mercy! mercy! + [_Mutes force her out_. + + +SCENE X. + +ABDALLA, HASAN, CARAZA. + +ABDALLA, _aside_. +Safe in her death, and in Demetrius' flight, +Abdalla, bid thy troubled breast be calm. +Now shalt thou shine, the darling of the sultan, +The plot all Cali's, the detection thine. + + HASAN _to_ CARAZA. +Does not thy bosom (for I know thee tender, +A stranger to th' oppressor's savage joy,) +Melt at Irene's fate, and share her woes? + + CARAZA. +Her piercing cries yet fill the loaded air, +Dwell on my ear, and sadden all my soul. +But let us try to clear our clouded brows, +And tell the horrid tale with cheerful face; +The stormy sultan rages at our stay. + + ABDALLA. +Frame your report with circumspective art: +Inflame her crimes, exalt your own obedience; +But let no thoughtless hint involve Abdalla. + + CARAZA. +What need of caution to report the fate +Of her, the sultan's voice condemn'd to die? +Or why should he, whose violence of duty +Has serv'd his prince so well, demand our silence? + + ABDALLA. +Perhaps, my zeal, too fierce, betray'd my prudence; +Perhaps, my warmth exceeded my commission; +Perhaps--I will not stoop to plead my cause, +Or argue with the slave that sav'd Demetrius. + + CARAZA. +From his escape learn thou the pow'r of virtue; +Nor hope his fortune, while thou want'st his worth. + + HASAN. +The sultan comes, still gloomy, still enraged. + + +SCENE XI. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, ABDALLA. + + MAHOMET. +Where's this fair traitress? Where's this smiling mischief, +Whom neither vows could fix, nor favours bind? + + HASAN. +Thine orders, mighty sultan, are perform'd, +And all Irene now is breathless clay. + + MAHOMET. +Your hasty zeal defrauds the claim of justice, +And disappointed vengeance burns in vain. +I came to heighten tortures by reproach, +And add new terrours to the face of death. +Was this the maid, whose love I bought with empire? +True, she was fair; the smile of innocence +Play'd on her cheek--So shone the first apostate-- +Irene's chamber! Did not roaring Cali, +Just as the rack forc'd out his struggling soul, +Name for the scene of death, Irene's chamber? + + MUSTAPHA. +His breath prolong'd, but to detect her treason, +Then, in short sighs, forsook his broken frame. + + MAHOMET. +Decreed to perish in Irene's chamber! +There had she lull'd me with endearing falsehoods, +Clasp'd in her arms, or slumb'ring on her breast, +And bar'd my bosom to the ruffian's dagger. + + +SCENE XII. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, MURZA, ABDALLA. + + MURZA. +Forgive, great sultan, that, by fate prevented, +I bring a tardy message from Irene. + + MAHOMET. +Some artful wile of counterfeited love! +Some soft decoy to lure me to destruction! +And thou, the curs'd accomplice of her treason, +Declare thy message, and expect thy doom. + + MURZA. +The queen requested, that a chosen troop +Might intercept the traitor Greek, Demetrius, +Then ling'ring with his captive mistress here. + + MUSTAPHA. +The Greek, Demetrius! whom th' expiring bassa +Declar'd the chief associate of his guilt! + + MAHOMET. +A chosen troop--to intercept--Demetrius-- +The queen requested--Wretch, repeat the message; +And, if one varied accent prove thy falsehood, +Or but one moment's pause betray confusion, +Those trembling limbs--Speak out, thou shiv'ring traitor. + + MURZA. +The queen requested-- + + MAHOMET. Who? the dead Irene? +Was she then guiltless! Has my thoughtless rage +Destroy'd the fairest workmanship of heav'n! +Doom'd her to death, unpity'd and unheard, +Amidst her kind solicitudes for me! +Ye slaves of cruelty, ye tools of rage, + [_To_ Hasan _and_ Caraza. +Ye blind, officious ministers of folly, +Could not her charms repress your zeal for murder? +Could not her pray'rs, her innocence, her tears, +Suspend the dreadful sentence for an hour? +One hour had freed me from the fatal errour! +One hour had say'd me from despair and madness. + + CARAZA. +Your fierce impatience forc'd us from your presence, +Urg'd us to speed, and bade us banish pity, +Nor trust our passions with her fatal charms. + + MAHOMET. +What hadst thou lost, by slighting those commands? +Thy life, perhaps--Were but Irene spar'd, +Well, if a thousand lives like thine had perish'd; +Such beauty, sweetness, love, were cheaply bought +With half the grov'ling slaves that load the globe. + + MUSTAPHA. +Great is thy woe! But think, illustrious sultan, +Such ills are sent for souls, like thine, to conquer. +Shake off this weight of unavailing grief, +Rush to the war, display thy dreadful banners, +And lead thy troops, victorious, round the world. + + MAHOMET. +Robb'd of the maid, with whom I wish'd to triumph, +No more I burn for fame, or for dominion; +Success and conquest now are empty sounds, +Remorse and anguish seize on all my breast; +Those groves, whose shades embower'd the dear Irene, +Heard her last cries, and fann'd her dying beauties, +Shall hide me from the tasteless world for ever. + [Mahomet _goes back, and returns_. +Yet, ere I quit the sceptre of dominion, +Let one just act conclude the hateful day-- +Hew down, ye guards, those vassals of destruction, + [_Pointing to_ Hasan _and_ Caraza. +Those hounds of blood, that catch the hint to kill, +Bear off, with eager haste, th' unfinished sentence, +And speed the stroke, lest mercy should o'ertake them. + + CARAZA. +Then hear, great Mahomet, the voice of truth. + + MAHOMET. +Hear! shall I hear thee! didst thou hear Irene? + +CARAZA. +Hear but a moment. + + MAHOMET. + Hadst thou heard a moment, +Thou might'st have liv'd, for thou hadst spar'd Irene. + + CARAZA. +I heard her, pitied her, and wish'd to save her. + + MAHOMET. +And wish'd--be still thy fate to wish in vain. + + CARAZA. +I heard, and soften'd, till Abdalla brought +Her final doom, and hurried her destruction. + + MAHOMET. +Abdalla brought her doom! Abdalla brought it! +The wretch, whose guilt, declar'd by tortur'd Cali, +My rage and grief had hid from my remembrance: +Abdalla brought her doom! + + HASAN. + Abdalla brought it, +While yet she begg'd to plead her cause before thee. + + MAHOMET. +O, seize me, madness--Did she call on me! +I feel, I see the ruffian's barb'rous rage. +He seiz'd her melting in the fond appeal, +And stopp'd the heav'nly voice that call'd on me. +My spirits fail; awhile support me, vengeance-- +Be just, ye slaves; and, to be just, be cruel; +Contrive new racks, imbitter ev'ry pang, +Inflict whatever treason can deserve, +Which murder'd innocence that call'd on me. + [_Exit_ Mahomet; Abdalla _is dragged off_. + + +SCENE XIII. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MUSTAPHA, MURZA. + +MUSTAPHA _to_ MURZA. +What plagues, what tortures, are in store for thee, +Thou sluggish idler, dilatory slave! +Behold the model of consummate beauty, +Torn from the mourning earth by thy neglect. + + MURZA. +Such was the will of heav'n--A band of Greeks, +That mark'd my course, suspicious of my purpose, +Rush'd out and seiz'd me, thoughtless and unarm'd, +Breathless, amaz'd, and on the guarded beach +Detain'd me, till Demetrius set me free. + + MUSTAPHA. +So sure the fall of greatness, rais'd on crimes! +So fix'd the justice of all conscious heav'n! +When haughty guilt exults with impious joy, +Mistake shall blast, or accident destroy; +Weak man, with erring rage, may throw the dart, +But heav'n shall guide it to the guilty heart. + +EPILOGUE. + +BY SIR WILLIAM YONGE. + +Marry a Turk! a haughty, tyrant king! +Who thinks us women born to dress and sing +To please his fancy! see no other man! +Let him persuade me to it--if he can; +Besides, he has fifty wives; and who can bear +To have the fiftieth part, her paltry share? + +'Tis true, the fellow's handsome, straight, and tall, +But how the devil should he please us all! +My swain is little--true--but, be it known, +My pride's to have that little all my own. +Men will be ever to their errours blind, +Where woman's not allow'd to speak her mind. +I swear this eastern pageantry is nonsense, +And for one man--one wife's enough in conscience. + +In vain proud man usurps what's woman's due; +For us, alone, they honour's paths pursue: +Inspir'd by us, they glory's heights ascend; +Woman the source, the object, and the end. +Though wealth, and pow'r, and glory, they receive, +These are all trifles to what we can give. +For us the statesman labours, hero fights, +Bears toilsome days, and wakes long tedious nights; +And, when blest peace has silenc'd war's alarms; +Receives his full reward in beauty's arms. + + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. + + +PROLOGUE; +SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, APRIL 5, 1750, BEFORE +THE MASQUE OF COMUS. + +Acted at Drury lane theatre, for the benefit of Milton's +granddaughter[a]. + +Ye patriot crowds, who burn for England's fame, +Ye nymphs, whose bosoms beat at Milton's name; +Whose gen'rous zeal, unbought by flatt'ring rhymes, +Shames the mean pensions of Augustan times; +Immortal patrons of succeeding days, +Attend this prelude of perpetual praise; +Let wit, condemn'd the feeble war to wage +With close malevolence, or publick rage; +Let study, worn with virtue's fruitless lore, +Behold this theatre, and grieve no more. +This night, distinguish'd by your smiles, shall tell, +That never Britain can in vain excel; +The slighted arts futurity shall trust, +And rising ages hasten to be just. + At length, our mighty bard's victorious lays +Fill the loud voice of universal praise; +And baffled spite, with hopeless anguish dumb, +Yields to renown the centuries to come; +With ardent haste each candidate of fame, +Ambitious, catches at his tow'ring name; +He sees, and pitying sees, vain wealth bestow +Those pageant honours, which he scorn'd below; +While crowds aloft the laureate bust behold, +Or trace his form on circulating gold. +Unknown, unheeded, long his offspring lay, +And want hung threat'ning o'er her slow decay, +What, though she shine with no Miltonian fire, +No fav'ring muse her morning dreams inspire; +Yet softer claims the melting heart engage, +Her youth laborious, and her blameless age; +Her's the mild merits of domestick life, +The patient sufferer, and the faithful wife. +Thus, grac'd with humble virtue's native charms, +Her grandsire leaves her in Britannia's arms; +Secure with peace, with competence, to dwell, +While tutelary nations guard her cell. +Yours is the charge, ye fair, ye wise, ye brave! +'Tis yours to crown desert--beyond the grave. + +[a] See Life of Milton. + + +PROLOGUE +TO THE COMEDY OF THE GOOD-NATUR'D MAN, 1769, + +Prest by the load of life, the weary mind +Surveys the gen'ral toil of human kind; +With cool submission joins the lab'ring train, +And social sorrow loses half its pain: +Our anxious bard, without complaint, may share +This bustling season's epidemick care; +Like Caesar's pilot, dignify'd by fate, +Tost in one common storm with all the great; +Distrest alike the statesman and the wit, +When one a borough courts, and one the pit. +The busy candidates for pow'r and fame +Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same; +Disabled both to combat or to fly, +Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply. +Uncheck'd on both loud rabbles vent their rage, +As mongrels bay the lion in a cage. +Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale, +For that blest year, when all that vote may rail; +Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss, +Till that glad night, when all that hate may hiss. +"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat," +Says swelling Crispin, "begg'd a cobbler's vote." +"This night our wit," the pert apprentice cries, +"Lies at my feet; I hiss him, and he dies." +The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe; +The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe. +Yet, judg'd by those whose voices ne'er were sold, +He feels no want of ill persuading gold; +But, confident of praise, if praise be due, +Trusts, without fear, to merit and to you. + + +PROLOGUE +TO THE COMEDY OF A WORK TO THE WISE[a] +SPOKEN BY MR. HULL. + +This night presents a play, which publick rage, +Or right, or wrong, once hooted from the stage[b]. +From zeal or malice, now, no more we dread, +For English vengeance wars not with the dead. +A gen'rous foe regards, with pitying eye, +The man whom fate has laid, where all must lie. +To wit, reviving from its author's dust, +Be kind, ye judges, or at least be just. +For no renew'd hostilities invade +Th' oblivious grave's inviolable shade. +Let one great payment ev'ry claim appease; +And him, who cannot hurt, allow to please; +To please by scenes, unconscious of offence, +By harmless merriment, or useful sense. +Where aught of bright, or fair, the piece displays, +Approve it only--'tis too late to praise. +If want of skill, or want of care appear, +Forbear to hiss--the poet cannot hear. +By all, like him, must praise and blame be found, +At best a fleeting gleam, or empty sound. +Yet, then, shall calm reflection bless the night, +When lib'ral pity dignify'd delight; +When pleasure fir'd her torch at virtue's flame, +And mirth was bounty with an humbler name. + +[a] Performed at Covent garden theatre in 1777, for the benefit of Mrs. + Kelly, widow of Hugh Kelly, esq. (the author of the play,) and her + children. + +[b] Upon the first representation of this play, 1770, a party assembled + to damn it, and succeeded. + + +SPRING; +AN ODE. + +Stern winter now, by spring repress'd, + Forbears the long-continued strife; +And nature, on her naked breast, + Delights to catch the gales of life. +Now o'er the rural kingdom roves + Soft pleasure with the laughing train, +Love warbles in the vocal groves, + And vegetation plants the plain. +Unhappy! whom to beds of pain, + Arthritick[a] tyranny consigns; +Whom smiling nature courts in vain, + Though rapture sings, and beauty shines. +Yet though my limbs disease invades, + Her wings imagination tries, +And bears me to the peaceful shades, + Where--s humble turrets rise; +Here stop, my soul, thy rapid flight, + Nor from the pleasing groves depart, +Where first great nature charm'd my sight, + Where wisdom first inform'd my heart. +Here let me through the vales pursue + A guide--a father--and a friend, +Once more great nature's works renew, + Once more on wisdom's voice attend. +From false caresses, causeless strife, + Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd, +Here let me learn the use of life, + When best enjoy'd--when most improv'd. +Teach me, thou venerable bower, + Cool meditation's quiet seat, +The gen'rous scorn of venal power, + The silent grandeur of retreat. +When pride, by guilt, to greatness climbs, + Or raging factions rush to war, +Here let me learn to shun the crimes, +I can't prevent, and will not share. + But, lest I fall by subtler foes, +Bright wisdom, teach me Curio's art, + The swelling passions to compose, +And quell the rebels of the heart. + +[a] The author being ill of the gout. + + +MIDSUMMER; +AN ODE. + +O Phoebus! down the western sky, + Far hence diffuse thy burning ray, +Thy light to distant worlds supply, + And wake them to the cares of day. +Come, gentle eve, the friend of care, + Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night! +Refresh me with a cooling air, + And cheer me with a lambent light: +Lay me, where o'er the verdant ground + Her living carpet nature spreads; +Where the green bow'r, with roses crown'd, + In show'rs its fragrant foliage sheds; +Improve the peaceful hour with wine; + Let musick die along the grove; +Around the bowl let myrtles twine, + And ev'ry strain be tun'd to love. +Come, Stella, queen of all my heart! + Come, born to fill its vast desires! +Thy looks perpetual joys impart, + Thy voice perpetual love inspires. +Whilst, all my wish and thine complete, + By turns we languish and we burn, +Let sighing gales our sighs repeat, + Our murmurs--murmuring brooks return, +Let me, when nature calls to rest, + And blushing skies the morn foretell, +Sink on the down of Stella's breast, + And bid the waking world farewell. + + +AUTUMN; +AN ODE. + +Alas! with swift and silent pace, + Impatient time rolls on the year; +The seasons change, and nature's face + Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe, +'Twas spring, 'twas summer, all was gay, + Now autumn bends a cloudy brow; +The flow'rs of spring are swept away, + And summer-fruits desert the bough. +The verdant leaves, that play'd on high, + And wanton'd on the western breeze, +Now, trod in dust, neglected lie, + As Boreas strips the bending trees. +The fields, that way'd with golden grain, + As russet heaths, are wild and bare; +Not moist with dew, but drench'd with rain, + Nor health, nor pleasure, wanders there. +No more, while through the midnight shade, + Beneath the moon's pale orb I stray, +Soft pleasing woes my heart invade, + As Progne pours the melting lay. +From this capricious clime she soars, + Oh! would some god but wings supply! +To where each morn the spring restores, + Companion of her flight I'd fly. +Vain wish! me fate compels to bear + The downward season's iron reign; +Compels to breathe polluted air, + And shiver on a blasted plain. +What bliss to life can autumn yield, + If glooms, and show'rs, and storms prevail, +And Ceres flies the naked field, + And flowers, and fruits, and Phoebus fail? +Oh! what remains, what lingers yet, + To cheer me in the dark'ning hour! +The grape remains! the friend of wit, + In love, and mirth, of mighty pow'r. +Haste--press the clusters, fill the bowl; + Apollo! shoot thy parting ray: +This gives the sunshine of the soul, + This god of health, and verse, and day. +Still--still the jocund strain shall flow, + The pulse with vig'rous rapture beat; +My Stella with new charms shall glow, + And ev'ry bliss in wine shall meet. + + +WINTER; +AN ODE. + +No more tire morn, with tepid rays, + Unfolds the flow'r of various hue; +Noon spreads no more the genial blaze, + Nor gentle eve distils the dew. +The ling'ring hours prolong the night, + Usurping darkness shares the day; +Her mists restrain the force of light, + And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway. +By gloomy twilight, half reveal'd, + With sighs we view the hoary hill, +The leafless wood, the naked field, + The snow-topp'd cot, the frozen rill. +No musick warbles through the grove, + No vivid colours paint the plain; +No more, with devious steps, I rove + Through verdant paths, now sought in vain. +Aloud the driving tempest roars, + Congeal'd, impetuous show'rs descend; +Haste, close the window, bar the doors, + Fate leaves me Stella, and a friend. +In nature's aid, let art supply + With light and heat my little sphere; +Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high, + Light up a constellation here. +Let musick sound the voice of joy, + Or mirth repeat the jocund tale; +Let love his wanton wiles employ, + And o'er the season wine prevail. +Yet time life's dreary winter brings, + When mirth's gay tale shall please no more +Nor musick charm--though Stella sings; + Nor love, nor wine, the spring restore. +Catch, then, Oh! catch the transient hour, + Improve each moment as it flies; +Life's a short summer--man a flow'r: + He dies--alas! how soon he dies! + + +THE WINTER'S WALK. + +Behold, my fair, where'er we rove, + What dreary prospects round us rise; +The naked hill, the leafless grove, + The hoary ground, the frowning skies! +Nor only through the wasted plain, + Stern winter! is thy force confess'd; +Still wider spreads thy horrid reign, + I feel thy pow'r usurp my breast. +Enliv'ning hope, and fond desire, + Resign the heart to spleen and care; +Scarce frighted love maintains her fire, + And rapture saddens to despair. +In groundless hope, and causeless fear, + Unhappy man! behold thy doom; +Still changing with the changeful year, + The slave of sunshine and of gloom. +Tir'd with vain joys, and false alarms, + With mental and corporeal strife, +Snatch me, my Stella, to thy arms, + And screen me from the ills of life[a]. + +[a] And _hide_ me from the _sight_ of life. 1st edition. + + +TO MISS **** +ON HER GIVING THE AUTHOR A GOLD AND SILK NETWORK PURSE OF HER OWN +WEAVING[a]. + +Though gold and silk their charms unite +To make thy curious web delight, +In vain the varied work would shine, +If wrought by any hand but thine; +Thy hand, that knows the subtler art +To weave those nets that catch the heart. + +Spread out by me, the roving coin +Thy nets may catch, but not confine; +Nor can I hope thy silken chain +The glitt'ring vagrants shall restrain. +Why, Stella, was it then decreed, +The heart, once caught, should ne'er be freed? + +[a] Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +TO MISS **** +ON HER PLAYING UPON THE HARPSICHORD, IN A ROOM HUNG WITH FLOWER-PIECES +OF HER OWN PAINTING[a]. + +When Stella strikes the tuneful string, +In scenes of imitated spring, +Where beauty lavishes her pow'rs +On beds of never-fading flow'rs, +And pleasure propagates around +Each charm of modulated sound; +Ah! think not, in the dang'rous hour, +The nymph fictitious as the flow'r; +But shun, rash youth, the gay alcove, +Nor tempt the snares of wily love. +When charms thus press on ev'ry sense, +What thought of flight, or of defence? +Deceitful hope, and vain desire, +For ever flutter o'er her lyre, +Delighting, as the youth draws nigh, +To point the glances of her eye, +And forming, with unerring art, +New chains to hold the captive heart. +But on those regions of delight +Might truth intrude with daring flight, +Could Stella, sprightly, fair, and young, +One moment hear the moral song, +Instruction, with her flowers, might spring, +And wisdom warble from her string. +Mark, when from thousand mingled dies +Thou seest one pleasing form arise, +How active light, and thoughtful shade +In greater scenes each other aid; +Mark, when the different notes agree +In friendly contrariety, +How passion's well-accorded strife +Gives all the harmony of life; +Thy pictures shall thy conduct frame, +Consistent still, though not the same; +Thy musick teach the nobler art, +To tune the regulated heart. + +[a] Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +EVENING; AN ODE. +TO STELLA. + +Ev'ning now from purple wings +Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; +Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, +Cooling breezes shake the reed; +Shake the reed, and curl the stream, +Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; +Near the checquer'd, lonely grove, +Hears, and keeps thy secrets, love. +Stella, thither let us stray, +Lightly o'er the dewy way. +Phoebus drives his burning car +Hence, my lovely Stella, far; +In his stead, the queen of night +Round us pours a lambent light; +Light, that seems but just to show +Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow. +Let us now, in whisper'd joy, +Ev'ning's silent hours employ; +Silence best, and conscious shades, +Please the hearts that love invades; +Other pleasures give them pain, +Lovers all but love disdain. + + +TO THE SAME. + +Whether Stella's eyes are found +Fix'd on earth, or glancing round, +If her face with pleasure glow, +If she sigh at others' woe, +If her easy air express +Conscious worth, or soft distress, +Stella's eyes, and air, and face, +Charm with undiminish'd grace. + If on her we see display'd +Pendent gems, and rich brocade; +If her chints with less expense +Flows in easy negligence; +Still she lights the conscious flame, +Still her charms appear the same; +If she strikes the vocal strings, +If she's silent, speaks, or sings, +If she sit, or if she move, +Still we love, and still approve. + Vain the casual, transient glance, +Which alone can please by chance; +Beauty, which depends on art, +Changing with the changing heart, +Which demands the toilet's aid, +Pendent gems and rich brocade. +I those charms alone can prize, +Which from constant nature rise, +Which nor circumstance, nor dress, +E'er can make, or more, or less. + + +TO A FRIEND. + +No more thus brooding o'er yon heap, +With av'rice, painful vigils keep; +Still unenjoy'd the present store, +Still endless sighs are breath'd for more. +Oh! quit the shadow, catch the prize, +Which not all India's treasure buys! + To purchase heav'n has gold the power? +Can gold remove the mortal hour? +In life, can love be bought with gold? +Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? +No--all that's worth a wish--a thought, +Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. +Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, +Let nobler views engage thy mind. + With science tread the wondrous way, +Or learn the muses' moral lay; +In social hours indulge thy soul, +Where mirth and temp'rance mix the bowl; +To virtuous love resign thy breast, +And be, by blessing beauty--blest. + Thus taste the feast, by nature spread, +Ere youth, and all its joys are fled; +Come, taste with me the balm of life, +Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. +I boast whate'er for man was meant, +In health, and Stella, and content; +And scorn! oh! let that scorn be thine! +Mere things of clay that dig the mine. + + +STELLA IN MOURNING. + +When lately Stella's form display'd +The beauties of the gay brocade, +The nymphs, who found their pow'r decline, +Proclaim'd her not so fair as fine. +"Fate! snatch away the bright disguise, +And let the goddess trust her eyes." +Thus blindly pray'd the fretful fair, +And fate malicious heard the pray'r; +But, brighten'd by the sable dress, +As virtue rises in distress, +Since Stella still extends her reign, +Ah! how shall envy sooth her pain? + Th' adoring youth and envious fair, +Henceforth, shall form one common prayer: +And love and hate, alike, implore +The skies--"That Stella mourn no more." + + +TO STELLA. + +Not the soft sighs of vernal gales, +The fragrance of the flow'ry vales, +The murmurs of the crystal rill, +The vocal grove, the verdant hill; +Not all their charms, though all unite, +Can touch my bosom with delight. + +Not all the gems on India's shore, +Not all Peru's unbounded store, +Not all the power, nor all the fame, +That heroes, kings, or poets claim; +Nor knowledge, which the learn'd approve; +To form one wish my soul can move. + +Yet nature's charms allure my eyes, +And knowledge, wealth, and fame I prize; +Fame, wealth, and knowledge I obtain, +Nor seek I nature's charms in vain; +In lovely Stella all combine; +And, lovely Stella! thou art mine. + + +VERSES, +WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN, TO WHOM A LADY HAD GIVEN A SPRIG +OF MYRTLE [a]. + +What hopes, what terrours, does thy gift create! +Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate! +The myrtle (ensign of supreme command, +Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand) +Not less capricious than a reigning fair, +Oft favours, oft rejects, a lover's pray'r. +In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain, +In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain. +The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads, +Th' unhappy lovers' graves the myrtle spreads. +Oh! then, the meaning of thy gift impart, +And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart. +Soon must this bough, as you shall fix its doom, +Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb. + +[a] These verses were first printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for + 1768, p. 439, but were written many years earlier. Elegant as they + are, Dr. Johnson assured me, they were composed in the short space + of five minutes.--N. + + +TO LADY FIREBRACE[a]. +AT BURY ASSIZES. + +At length, must Suffolk beauties shine in vain, +So long renown'd in B--n's deathless strain? +Thy charms, at least, fair Firebrace, might inspire +Some zealous bard to wake the sleeping lyre; +For, such thy beauteous mind and lovely face, +Thou seem'st at once, bright nymph, a muse and grace. + +[a] This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, esq. of + Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, esq. of that town. She became + the second wife of sir Cordell Firebrace, the last baronet of that + name, to whom she brought a fortune of 25,000 pounds, July 26, 1737. + Being again left a widow, in 1759, she was a third time married, + April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, esq. uncle to the late duke of + Argyle, and died July 3, 1782. + + +TO LYCE, +AN ELDERLY LADY. + +Ye nymphs, whom starry rays invest, +By flatt'ring poets given; +Who shine, by lavish lovers drest, +In all the pomp of heaven; + +Engross not all the beams on high, + Which gild a lover's lays; +But, as your sister of the sky, + Let Lyce share the praise. + +Her silver locks display the moon, + Her brows a cloudy show, +Strip'd rainbows round her eyes are seen, + And show'rs from either flow. + +Her teeth the night with darkness dies, + She's starr'd with pimples o'er; +Her tongue, like nimble lightning, plies, + And can with thunder roar. + +But some Zelinda, while I sing, + Denies my Lyce shines; +And all the pens of Cupid's wing + Attack my gentle lines. + +Yet, spite of fair Zelinda's eye, + And all her bards express, +My Lyce makes as good a sky, + And I but flatter less. + + +ON THE DEATH OF +MR. ROBERT LEVET[a], +A PRACTISER IN PHYSICK. + +Condemn'd to hope's delusive mine, + As on we toil, from day to day, +By sudden blasts, or slow decline, + Our social comforts drop away. + +Well try'd, through many a varying year, + See Levet to the grave descend, +Officious, innocent, sincere, + Of ev'ry friendless name the friend. + +Yet still he fills affection's eye, + Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind; +Nor, letter'd arrogance, deny + Thy praise to merit unrefined. + +When fainting nature call'd for aid, + And hov'ring death prepar'd the blow, +His vig'rous remedy display'd + The pow'r of art, without the show. + +In mis'ry's darkest cavern known, + His useful care was ever nigh, +Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, + And lonely want retir'd to die. + +No summons, mock'd by chill delay, + No petty gain, disdain'd by pride; +The modest wants of ev'ry day + The toil of ev'ry day supply'd. + +His virtues walk'd their narrow round, + Nor made a pause, nor left a void; +And sure the eternal master found + The single talent well-employ'd. + +The busy day--the peaceful night, + Unfelt, uncounted, glided by; +His frame was firm--his pow'rs were bright, + Though now his eightieth year was nigh. + +Then, with no fiery throbbing pain, + No cold gradations of decay, +Death broke, at once, the vital chain, + And freed his soul the nearest way. + +[a] These stanzas, to adopt the words of Dr. Drake, "are warm from the + heart; and this is the only poem, from the pen of Johnson, that has + been bathed with tears." Levet was Johnson's constant and attentive + companion, for near forty years; he was a practitioner in physic, + among the lower class of people, in London. Humanity, rather than + desire of gain, seems to have actuated this single hearted and + amiable being; and never were the virtues of charity recorded in + more touching strains. "I am acquainted," says Dr. Drake, "with + nothing superior to them in the productions of the moral muse." See + Drake's Literary Life of Johnson; and Boswell, i. ii. iii. iv.--ED. + + +EPITAPH ON CLAUDE PHILLIPS, +AN ITINERANT MUSICIAN[a]. + +Phillips! whose touch harmonious could remove +The pangs of guilty pow'r, and hapless love, +Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more, +Find here that calm thou gay'st so oft before; +Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine, +Till angels wake thee, with a note like thine. + +[a] These lines are among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies: they are, + nevertheless, recognised as Johnson's, in a memorandum of his + handwriting, and were probably written at her request. This Phillips + was a fiddler, who travelled up and down Wales, and was much + celebrated for his skill. The above epitaph, according to Mr. + Boswell, won the applause of lord Kames, prejudiced against Johnson + as he was. It was published in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, and + was, at first, ascribed to Garrick, from its appearing with the + signature G.--Garrick, however, related, that they were composed, + almost impromptu, by Johnson, on hearing some lines on the subject, + by Dr. Wilkes, which he disapproved. See Boswell, i. 126, where is, + likewise, preserved an epigram, by Johnson, on Colley Cibber and + George the second, whose illiberal treatment of artists and learned + men was a constant theme of his execration. As it has not yet been + inserted among Johnson's works, we will present it to the readers of + the present edition, in this note. + + +EPITAPHIUM[a] +IN +THOMAM HANMER, BARONETTUM. + +Honorabilis admodum THOMAS HANMER, +Baronnettus, + +Augustus still survives in Maro's strain, +And Spenser's verse prolongs Eliza's reign; +Great George's acts let tuneful Gibber sing; +For nature formed the poet for the king. + +Wilhelmi Hanmer armigeri, e Peregrina Henrici +North +De Mildenhall, in Com. Suffolciae, baronetti sorore +et haerede, +Filius; +Johannis Hanmer de Hanmer baronetti +Haeres patruelis +Antiquo gentis suae et titulo et patrimonio successit. +Duas uxores sortitus est; +Alteram Isabellam, honore a patre derivato, de +Arlington comitissam, +Deinde celsissimi principis, ducis de Grafton, viduam +dotariam: +Alteram Elizabetham, Thomae Foulkes de Barton, in +Com. Suff. armigeri +Filiam et haeredem. +Inter humanitatis studia feliciter enutritus, +Omnes liberalium artium disciplinas avide arripuit, +Quas morum suavitate baud leviter ornavit, +Postquam excessit ex ephebis, +Continuo inter populares suos fama eminens, +Et comitatus sui legatus ad parliamentum missus, +Ad ardua regni negotia, per annos prope triginta, +se accinxit: +Cumque, apud illos amplissimorum virorum ordines, +Solent nihil temere effutire, +Sed probe perpensa diserte expromere, +Orator gravis et pressus, +Non minus integritatis quam eloquentiae laude +commendatus, +Aeque omnium, utcunque inter se alioqui dissidentium, +Aures atque arrimos attraxit. +Annoque demum M.DCC.XIII. regnante Anna, +Felicissimae florentissimaeque memoriae regina, +Ad prolocutoris cathedram, +Communi senatus universi voce, designatus est: +Quod munus, +Cum nullo tempore non difficile, +Tum illo certe, negotiis +Et variis, et lubricis, et implicatis, difficillimum, +Cum dignitate sustinuit. +Honores alios, et omnia quae sibi in lucrum cederent +munera, +Sedulo detrectavit, +Ut rei totus inserviret publicae; +Justi rectique tenax, +Et fide in patriam incorrupta notus. +Ubi omnibus, quae virum civemque bonum decent, +officiis satisfecisset, +Paulatim se a publicis consiliis in otium recipiens, +Inter literarum amoenitates, +Inter ante-actae vitae baud insuaves recordationes, +Inter amicorum convictus et amplexus, +Honorifice consenuit; +Et bonis omnibus, quibus charissimus vixit, +Desideratissimus obiit. +Hie, juxta cineres avi, suos condi voluit, et curavit +Gulielmus Bunbury B'ttus, nepos et haeres. + + +PARAPHRASE OF THE ABOVE EPITAPH. +BY DR. JOHNSON (b). + +Thou, who survey'st these walls with curious eye, +Pause at the tomb, where Hanmer's ashes lie; +His various worth, through vary'd life, attend, +And learn his virtues, while thou mourn'st his end. + His force of genius burn'd, in early youth, +With thirst of knowledge, and with love of truth; +His learning, join'd with each endearing art, +Charm'd ev'ry ear, and gain'd on ev'ry heart. + Thus early wise, th' endanger'd realm to aid, +His country call'd him from the studious shade; +In life's first bloom his publick toils began, +At once commenc'd the senator and man. +In bus'ness dext'rous, weighty in debate, +Thrice ten long years he labour'd for the state; +In ev'ry speech persuasive wisdom flow'd, +In ev'ry act refulgent virtue glow'd: +Suspended faction ceas'd from rage and strife, +To hear his eloquence, and praise his life. +Resistless merit fix'd the senate's choice, +Who hail'd him speaker, with united voice. +Illustrious age! how bright thy glories shone, +When Hanmer fill'd the chair--and Anne the throne! +Then, when dark arts obscur'd each fierce debate, +When mutual frauds perplex'd the maze of state, +The moderator firmly mild appear'd-- +Beheld with love--with veneration heard. +This task perform'd--he sought no gainful post, +Nor wish'd to glitter, at his country's cost: +Strict on the right he fix'd his steadfast eye, +With temp'rate zeal and wise anxiety; +Nor e'er from virtue's paths was lur'd aside, +To pluck the flow'rs of pleasure, or of pride. +Her gifts despis'd, corruption blush'd, and fled, +And fame pursu'd him, where conviction led. +Age call'd, at length, his active mind to rest, +With honour sated, and with cares oppress'd; +To letter'd ease retir'd, and honest mirth, +To rural grandeur and domestick worth; +Delighted still to please mankind, or mend, +The patriot's fire yet sparkled in the friend. +Calm conscience, then, his former life survey'd, +And recollected toils endear'd the shade, +Till nature call'd him to the gen'ral doom, +And virtue's sorrow dignified his tomb. + +[a] At Hanmer church, in Flintshire. +[b] This paraphrase is inserted in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. The + Latin is there said to be written by Dr. Freind. Of the person whose + memory it celebrates, a copious account may be seen in the appendix + to the supplement to the Biographia Britannica. + + +TO MISS HICKMAN[a], +PLAYING ON THE SPINET. + +Bright Stella, form'd for universal reign, +Too well you know to keep the slaves you gain; +When in your eyes resistless lightnings play, +Aw'd into love our conquer'd hearts obey, +And yield reluctant to despotick sway: +But, when your musick sooths the raging pain, +We bid propitious heav'n prolong your reign, +We bless the tyrant, and we hug the chain. +When old Timotheus struck the vocal string, +Ambition's fury fir'd the Grecian king: +Unbounded projects lab'ring in his mind, +He pants for room, in one poor world confin'd. +Thus wak'd to rage, by musick's dreadful pow'r, +He bids the sword destroy, the flame devour. +Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre, +Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire; +No more delighted with destructive war, +Ambitious only now to please the fair, +Resign'd his thirst of empire to her charms, +And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms. + +[a] These lines, which have been communicated by Dr. Turton, son to Mrs. + Turton, the lady to whom they are addressed by her maiden name of + Hickman, must have been written, at least, as early as 1734, as that + was the year of her marriage: at how much earlier a period of Dr. + Johnson's life they might have been written, is not known. + + +PARAPHRASE OF PROVERBS, CHAP. VI. +VERSES 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. + +_"Go to the ant, thou sluggard[a]_." + +Turn on the prudent ant thy heedful eyes, +Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise: +No stern command, no monitory voice, +Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice; +Yet, timely provident, she hastes away, +To snatch the blessings of the plenteous day; +When fruitful summer loads the teeming plain, +She crops the harvest, and she stores the grain. +How long shall sloth usurp thy useless hours, +Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy pow'rs; +While artful shades thy downy couch inclose, +And soft solicitation courts repose? +Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight, +Year chases year with unremitted flight, +Till want now following, fraudulent and slow, +Shall spring to seize thee like an ambush'd foe. + +[a] First printed in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII. TRANSLATED. + + The snow, dissolv'd, no more is seen, +The fields and woods, behold! are green; +The changing year renews the plain, +The rivers know their banks again; +The sprightly nymph and naked grace +The mazy dance together trace; +The changing year's successive plan +Proclaims mortality to man; +Rough winter's blasts to spring give way, +Spring yields to summer's sov'reign ray; +Then summer sinks in autumn's reign, +And winter chills the world again; +Her losses soon the moon supplies, +But wretched man, when once he lies +Where Priam and his sons are laid, +Is nought but ashes and a shade. +Who knows if Jove, who counts our score, +Will toss us in a morning more? +What with your friend you nobly share, +At least you rescue from your heir. +Not you, Torquatus, boast of Rome, +When Minos once has fixed your doom, +Or eloquence, or splendid birth, +Or virtue, shall restore to earth. +Hippolytus, unjustly slain, +Diana calls to life in vain; +Nor can the might of Theseus rend +The chains of hell that hold his friend. +Nov. 1784. + + + +The following translations, parodies, and burlesque verses, most of them +extempore, are taken from Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, published by Mrs. +Piozzi. + + +ANACREON, ODE IX. + +Lovely courier of the sky, +Whence and whither dost thou fly? +Scatt'ring, as thy pinions play, +Liquid fragrance all the way: +Is it business? is it love? +Tell me, tell me, gentle dove. +Soft Anacreon's vows I bear, +Vows to Myrtale the fair; +Grac'd with all that charms the heart, +Blushing nature, smiling art. +Venus, courted by an ode, +On the bard her dove bestow'd: +Vested with a master's right, +Now Anacreon rules my flight; +His the letters that you see, +Weighty charge, consign'd to me: +Think not yet my service hard, +Joyless task without reward; +Smiling at my master's gates, +Freedom my return awaits; +But the lib'ral grant in vain +Tempts me to be wild again. +Can a prudent dove decline +Blissful bondage such as mine? +Over hills and fields to roam, +Fortune's guest without a home; +Under leaves to hide one's head +Slightly shelter'd, coarsely fed: +Now my better lot bestows +Sweet repast and soft repose; +Now the gen'rous bowl I sip, +As it leaves Anacreon's lip: +Void of care, and free from dread, +From his fingers snatch his bread; +Then, with luscious plenty gay, +Round his chamber dance and play; +Or from wine, as courage springs, +O'er his face extend my wings; +And when feast and frolick tire, +Drop asleep upon his lyre. +This is all, be quick and go, +More than all thou canst not know; +Let me now my pinions ply, +I have chatter'd like a pie. + + +LINES +WRITTEN IN RIDICULE OF CERTAIN POEMS +PUBLISHED IN 1777. + +Wheresor'er I turn my view, +All is strange, yet nothing new; +Endless labour all along, +Endless labour to be wrong; +Phrase that time hath flung away, +Uncouth words in disarray, +Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet, +Ode, and elegy, and sonnet. + + +PARODY OF A TRANSLATION. +FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES. + +Err shall they not, who resolute explore +Times gloomy backward with judicious eyes; +And, scanning right the practices of yore, +Shall deem our hoar progenitors unwise. + +They to the dome, where smoke, with curling play, +Announc'd the dinner to the regions round, +Summon'd the singer blithe, and harper gay, +And aided wine with dulcet-streaming sound. + +The better use of notes, or sweet or shrill, +By quiv'ring string or modulated wind; +Trumpet or lyre--to their harsh bosoms chill +Admission ne'er had sought, or could not find. + +Oh! send them to the sullen mansions dun, +Her baleful eyes where sorrow rolls around; +Where gloom-enamour'd mischief loves to dwell, +And murder, all blood-bolter'd, schemes the wound. + +When cates luxuriant pile the spacious dish, +And purple nectar glads the festive hour; +The guest, without a want, without a wish, +Can yield no room to musick's soothing pow'r. + + +TRANSLATION +FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES, V. 196[a] + +The rites deriv'd from ancient days, +With thoughtless reverence we praise; +The rites that taught us to combine +The joys of musick and of wine, +And bade the feast, and song, and bowl +O'erfill the saturated soul: +But ne'er the flute or lyre applied +To cheer despair, or soften pride; +Nor call'd them to the gloomy cells +Where want repines and vengeance swells; +Where hate sits musing to betray, +And murder meditates his prey. +To dens of guilt and shades of care, +Ye sons of melody repair, +Nor deign the festive dome to cloy +With superfluities of joy. +Ah! little needs the minstrel's power +To speed the light convivial hour. +The board, with varied plenty crown'd, +May spare the luxuries of sound[b]. + +[a] The classical reader will, doubtless, be pleased to see the + exquisite original in immediate comparison with this translation; + we, therefore, subjoin it, and also Dr. J. Warton's imitation of + the same passage. + + [Greek:] + skaious de legon kouden ti sophous + tous prosthe brotous, ouk an amartois + oitines umnous epi men thaliais, + epi d'eilapinais kai para deipnois + euronto biou terpnas akoas + stugious de broton oudeis pulas + eureto mousae kai poluchordois + odais pauein, exon thanatoi + deinai te tuchai sphallonsi domous + kaitoi tade men kerdos akeisthai + molpaisi brotous ina d'endeipnoi + daites ti mataen teinousi boan + to paron gar echei terpsin aph auton + daitos plaeroma brotaoisin + MEDEA, 193--206. ED. PORS + + Queen of every moving measure, + Sweetest source of purest pleasure, + Music! why thy pow'rs employ + Only for the sons of joy; + Only for the smiling guests, + At natal or at nuptial feasts? + Rather thy lenient numbers pour + On those, whom secret griefs devour, + Bid be still the throbbing hearts + Of those whom death or absence parts, + And, with some softly whisper'd air, + Sooth the brow of dumb despair. + +[b] This translation was written by Johnson for his friend Dr. Burney, + and was inserted, as the work of "a learned friend," in that + gentleman's History of Musick, vol. ii. p. 340. It has always been + ascribed to Johnson; but, to put the matter beyond a doubt, Mr. + Malone ascertained the fact by applying to Dr. Burney himself. J. B. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FIRST TWO STANZAS OF THE SONG "RIO +VERDE, RIO VERDE," PRINTED IN BISHOP PERCY'S +RELIQUES OF ANCIENT ENGLISH POETRY. + +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Glassy water, glassy water, + Down whose current, clear and strong, +Chiefs confused in mutual slaughter, + Moor and Christian roll along. + + +IMITATION OF THE STYLE OF ****. + +Hermit hoar, in solemn cell + Wearing out life's ev'ning grey, +Strike thy bosom, sage, and tell + What is bliss, and which the way. + +Thus I spoke, and speaking sigh'd, + Scarce repress'd the starting tear, +When the hoary sage reply'd, + Come, my lad, and drink some beer. + + +BURLESQUE +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES OF LOPEZ DE VEGA. +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Se a quien los leones vence + Vence una muger hermosa, +O el de flaco avergonze, + O ella di ser mas furiosa. + +If the man who turnips cries, +Cry not when his father dies, +'Tis a proof, that he had rather +Have a turnip than his father. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES AT THE END OF BARETTI'S +EASY PHRASEOLOGY. + +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Viva, viva la padrona! +Tutta bella, e tutta buona, +La padrona è un' angiolella +Tutta buona e tutta bella; +Tutta bella e tutta buona; +Viva! viva la padrona! + +Long may live my lovely Hetty! +Always young, and always pretty; +Always pretty, always young, +Live, my lovely Hetty, long! +Always young, and always pretty, +Long may live my lovely Hetty! + + +IMPROVISO TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING DISTICH ON THE DUKE OF MODENA'S +RUNNING AWAY FROM THE COMET IN 1742 OR 1743. + +Se al venir vostro i principi sen' vanno +Deh venga ogni di--durate un' anno. + +If at your coming princes disappear, +Comets! come every day--and stay a year. + + +IMPROVISO TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES OF M. BENSERADE A SON LIT. + +Theatre des ris, et des pleurs, +Lit! où je nais, et où je meurs, +Tu nous fais voir comment voisins +Sont nos plaisirs, et nos chagrins. + +In bed we laugh, in bed we cry, +And, born in bed, in bed we die; +The near approach a bed may show +Of human bliss to human woe. + + +EPITAPH FOR MR. HOGARTH. + +The hand of him here torpid lies, + That drew th' essential form of grace; +Here clos'd in death th' attentive eyes, + That saw the manners in the face. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES, WRITTEN UNDER A PRINT +REPRESENTING PERSONS SKATING. + +Sur un mince cristal l'hiver conduit leurs pas, + Le précipice est sous la glace: + Telle est de nos plaisirs la légère surface: +Glissez, mortels; n'appuyez pas. + +O'er ice the rapid skater flies, + With sport above, and death below; +Where mischief lurks in gay disguise, + Thus lightly touch and quickly go. + + +IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION OF THE SAME. + +O'er crackling ice, o'er gulfs profound, + With nimble glide the skaters play; +O'er treach'rous pleasure's flow'ry ground + Thus lightly skim, and haste away. + + +TO MRS. THRALE, +ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR. +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Oft in danger, yet alive, +We are come to thirty-five; +Long may better years arrive, +Better years than thirty-five! +Could philosophers contrive +Life to stop at thirty-five, +Time his hours should never drive +O'er the bounds of thirty-five. +High to soar, and deep to dive, +Nature gives at thirty-five. +Ladies, stock and tend your hive, +Trifle not at thirty-five; +For, howe'er we boast and strive. +Life declines from thirty-five. +He that ever hopes to thrive +Must begin by thirty-five; +And all, who wisely wish to wive, +Must look on Thrale at thirty-five. + + +IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION +OF AN AIR IN THE CLEMENZA DI TITO OF +METASTASIO, +BEGINNING "DEH SE PIACERMI VUOI." + +Would you hope to gain my heart, +Bid your teasing doubts depart; +He, who blindly trusts, will find +Faith from ev'ry gen'rous mind: +He, who still expects deceit, +Only teaches how to cheat. + + +TRANSLATION +OF A SPEECH OF AQUILEIO, IN THE ADRIANO OF METASTASIO, +BEGINNING "TU CHE IN CORTE INVECCHIASTI[a]." + +Grown old in courts, thou surely art not one +Who keeps the rigid rules of ancient honour; +Well skill'd to sooth a foe with looks of kindness, +To sink the fatal precipice before him, +And then lament his fall, with seeming friendship: +Open to all, true only to thyself, +Thou know'st those arts, which blast with envious praise, +Which aggravate a fault, with feign'd excuses, +And drive discountenanc'd virtue from the throne; +That leave the blame of rigour to the prince, +And of his ev'ry gift usurp the merit; +That hide, in seeming zeal, a wicked purpose, +And only build upon another's ruin. + +[a] The character of Cali, in Irene, is a masterly sketch of the old and + practised dissembler of a despotic court,--ED. + + +BURLESQUE +OF THE MODERN VERSIFICATIONS OF ANCIENT +LEGENDARY TALES. AN IMPROMPTU. + +The tender infant, meek and mild, + Fell down upon the stone: +The nurse took up the squealing child, + But still the child squeal'd on. + + +FRIENDSHIP; +AN ODE[a]. + +Friendship, peculiar boon of heaven, + The noble mind's delight and pride, +To men and angels only given, + To all the lower world deny'd. + +While love, unknown among the blest, + Parent of thousand wild desires[b], +The savage and the human breast + Torments alike with raging fires[c]; + +With bright, but oft destructive, gleam, + Alike, o'er all his lightnings fly; +Thy lambent glories only beam + Around the fav'rites of the sky. + +Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys + On fools and villains ne'er descend; +In vain for thee the tyrant sighs[d], + And hugs a flatt'rer for a friend. + +Directress of the brave and just[e], + O! guide us through life's darksome way! +And let the tortures of mistrust + On selfish bosoms only prey. + +Nor shall thine ardours cease to glow[f], + When souls to blissful climes remove: +What rais'd our virtue here below, + Shall aid our happiness above. + +[a] This ode originally appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1743. + See Boswell's Life of Johnson, under that year. It was afterwards + printed in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, in 1766, with several + variations, which are pointed out, below.--J.B. +[b] Parent of rage and hot desires.--Mrs. W. +[c] Inflames alike with equal fires. +[d] In vain for thee the _monarch_ sighs. +[e] This stanza is omitted in Mrs. William's Miscellanies, and instead + of it, we have the following, which may be suspected, from internal + evidence, not to have been Johnson's: + + When virtues, kindred virtues meet, + And sister-souls together join, + Thy pleasures permanent, as great, + Are all transporting--all divine. + +[f] O! shall thy flames then cease to glow. + + +ON SEEING A BUST OF MRS. MONTAGUE. + +Had this fair figure, which this frame displays, +Adorn'd in Roman time the brightest days, +In every dome, in every sacred place, +Her statue would have breath'd an added grace, +And on its basis would have been enroll'd, +"This is Minerva, cast in virtue's mould." + + +IMPROVISO +ON A YOUNG HEIR'S COMING OF AGE + +Long expected one-and-twenty, + Ling'ring year, at length is flown; +Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty, + Great----, are now your own. + +Loosen'd from the minor's tether, + Free to mortgage or to sell; +Wild as wind, and light as feather, + Bid the sons of thrift farewell. + +Call the Betseys, Kates, and Jennies, + All the names that banish care; +Lavish of your grandsire's guineas, + Show the spirit of an heir. + +All that prey on vice or folly + Joy to see their quarry fly: +There the gamester light and jolly, + There the lender grave and sly. + +Wealth, my lad, was made to wander, + Let it wander as it will; +Call the jockey, call the pander, + Bid them come, and take their fill. + +When the bonny blade carouses, + Pockets full, and spirits high-- +What are acres? what are houses? + Only dirt, or wet or dry. + +Should the guardian friend, or mother + Tell the woes of wilful waste; +Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother, + You can hang or drown at last. + + + +EPITAPHS. + + +AT LICHFIELD. +H. S. E. +MICHAEL JOHNSON, + +VIR impavidus, constans, animosus, periculorum immemor, +laborum patientissimus; fiducia christiana fortis, fervidusque; +paterfamilias apprime strenuus; bibliopola admodum +peritus; mente et libris et negotiis exculta; animo ita +firmo, ut, rebus adversis diu conflictatus, nec sibi nec suis +defuerit; lingua sic temperata, ut ei nihil quod aures vel +pias vel castas laesisset, aut dolor vel voluptas unquam +expresserit. + +Natus Cubleiae, in agro Derbiensi, anno MDCLVI; obijt +MDCCXXXI. + +Apposita est SARA, conjux, + +Antiqua FORDORUM gente oriunda; quam domi sedulam, +foris paucis notam; nulli molestam, mentis acumine +et judicii subtilitate praecellentem; aliis multum, sibi parum +indulgentem: aeternitati semper attentam, omne fere +virtutis nomen commendavit. + +Nata Nortoniae Regis, in agro Varvicensi, anno +MDCLXIX; obijt MDCCLIX. + +Cum NATHANAELE, illorum filio, qui natus MDCCXII. +cum vires et animi et corporis multa pollicerentur, anno +MDCCXXXVII. vitam brevem pia morte finivit. + + +IN BROMLEY CHURCH. +HIC conduntur reliquae +ELIZABETHAE +Antiqua JARVISIORUM gente +Peatlingae, apud Leicestrenses, ortae; +Formosae, cultae, ingeniosae, piae; +Uxoris, primis nuptiis, HENRICI PORTER, +secundis, SAMUELIS JOHNSON, +Qui multum amatam, diuque defletam, +Hoc lapide contexit. +Obijt Londini, mense Mart. +A. D. MDCCLIII. + + +IN WATFORD CHURCH. + +In the vault below are deposited the remains of +JANE BELL[a], wife of JOHN BELL, esq. +who, in the fifty-third year of her age, +surrounded with many worldly blessings, +heard, with fortitude and composure truly great, +the horrible malady, which had, for some time, begun to +afflict her, +pronounced incurable; +and for more than three years, +endured with patience, and concealed with decency, +the daily tortures of gradual death; +continued to divide the hours not allotted to devotion, +between the cares of her family, and the converse of +her friends; +rewarded the attendance of duty, +and acknowledged the offices of affection; +and, while she endeavoured to alleviate by cheerfulness +her husband's sufferings and sorrows, +increased them by her gratitude for his care, +and her solicitude for his quiet. +To the testimony of these virtues, +more highly honoured, as more familiarly known, +this monument is erected by +JOHN BELL. + +[a] She died in October, 1771. + + +IN STRETHAM CHURCH. + +Juxta sepulta est HESTERA MARIA, +Thomae Cotton de Combermere, baronetti Cestriensis, +filia, +Johannis Salusbury, armigeri Flintiensis, uxor, +Forma felix, felix ingenio; +Omnibus jucunda, suorum amantissima. +Linguis artibusque ita exeulta, +Ut loquenti nunquam deessent +Sermonis nitor, sententiarum flosculi, +Sapientiae gravitas, leporum gratia: +Modum servandi adeo perita, +Ut domestica inter negotia literis oblectaretur; +Literarum inter delicias, rem familiarem sedulo curaret. +Multis illi multos annos precantibus +diri carcinomatis venene contabuit, +nexibusque vitae paulatim resolutis, +e terris, meliora sperans, emigravit. +Nata 1707. Nupta 1739. Obijt 1773. + + +IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. + +OLIVARII GOLDSMITH, +Poetae, Physici, Historici, +Qui nullum fere scribendi genus +Non tetigit, +Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit: +Sive risus essent movendi, +Sive lacrimae, +Affectuum potens, at lenis, dominator: +Ingenio sublimis, vividus, versatilis, +Oratione grandis, nitidus, venustus: +Hoc monumento memoriam coluit +Sodalium amor, +Amicorum fides, +Lectorum veneratio. +Elfiniae, in Hibernia, natus MDCCXXIX. +Eblauae literis institutus: +Londini obijt MDCCLXXIV [a]. + +[a] This is the epitaph, that drew from Gibbon, sir J. Reynolds, +Sheridan, Joseph Warton, &c. the celebrated _Round Robin_, composed by +Burke, intreating Johnson to write an English epitaph on an English +author. His reply was, in the genuine spirit of an old scholar, "he +would never consent to disgrace the walls of Westminster abbey with an +English inscription." One of his arguments, in favour of a common +learned language, was ludicrously cogent: "Consider, sir, how you should +feel, were you to find, at Rotterdam, an epitaph, upon Erasmus, _in +Dutch_!" Boswell, iii. He would, however, undoubtedly have written a +better epitaph in English, than in Latin. His compositions in that +language are not of first rate excellence, either in prose or verse. The +epitaph, in Stretham church, on Mr. Thrale, abounds with inaccuracies; +and those who are fond of detecting little blunders in great men, may be +amply gratified in the perusal of a review of Thrale's epitaph in the +Classical Journal, xii. 6. His Greek epitaph on Goldsmith, is not +remarkable in itself, but we will subjoin it, in this place, as a +literary curiosity. + +[Greek:] +Thon taphon eisoraas thon OLIBARIOIO, koniaen + Aphrosi mae semnaen, xeine, podessi patei. +Oisi memaele phusis, metron charis, erga palaion, + Klaiete poiaetaen, istorikon, phusikon. + --ED. + + +IN STRETHAM CHURCH. + +Hie conditur quod reliquum est +HENRICI THRALE, +Qui res seu civiles, seu domesticas, ita egit, +Ut vitam illi longiorem multi optarent; +Ita sacras, +Ut quam brevem esset habiturus praescire videretur; +Simplex, apertus, sibique semper similis, +Nihil ostentavit aut arte fictum, aut cura +elaboratum. +In senatu, regi patriaeque +Fideliter studuit, +Vulgi obstrepentis contemptor animosus; +Domi, inter mille mercaturae negotia, +Literarum elegantiam minime neglexit. +Amicis, quocunque modo laborantibus, +Consiliis, auctoritate, muneribus, adfuit. +Inter familiares, comites, convivas, hospites, +Tam facili fuit morum suavitate +Ut omnium animos ad se alliceret; +Tam felici sermonis libertate, +Ut nulli adulatus, omnibus placeret. +Natus 1724. Obijt 1781. +Consortes tumuli habet Rodolphum, patrem, strenuum +fortemque virum, et Henricum, filium unicum, quem +spei parentum mors inopiua decennem proripuit. +Ita +Domus felix et opulenta quam erexit +Avus, auxitque pater, cum nepote decidit. +Abi, Viator, +Et, vicibus rerum humanarum perspectis, +Aeternitatem cogita! + + + + +POEMATA + + +MESSIA [a]. + +Ex alieno ingenio poeta, ex suo tantum versificator. +SCALIG. Poet. + +Tollite concentum, Solymaeae tollite nymphae, +Nil mortale loquor; coelum mihi carminis alta +Materies; poscunt gravius coelestia plectrum. +Muscosi fontes, sylvestria tecta, valete, +Aonidesque deae, et mendacis somnia Pindi: +Tu, mihi, qui flamma movisti pectora sancti +Siderea Isaiae, dignos accende furores! + Immatura calens rapitur per secula vates +Sic orsus--Qualis rerum mihi nascitur ordo! +Virgo! virgo parit! Felix radicibus arbor +Jessaeis surgit, mulcentesque sethera flores +Coelestes lambunt animae, ramisque columba, +Nuncia sacra Dei, plaudentibus insidet alis. +Nectareos rores, alimentaque mitia coelum +Praebeat, et tacite foecundos irriget imbres. +Hue, foedat quos lepra, urit quos febris, adeste, +Dia salutares spirant medicamina rami; +Hic requies fessis: non sacra sacvit in umbra +Vis boreae gelida, aut rapidi violeutia solis. +Irrita vanescent priscae vestigia fraudis, +Justitiaeque manus, pretio intemerata, bilancem +Attollet reducis; bellis praetendet olivas +Compositis pax alma suas, terrasque revisens +Sedatas niveo virtus lucebit amictu.-- +Volvantur celeres anni! lux purpuret ortum +Expectata diu! naturae claustra refringens, +Nascere, magne puer! tibi primas, ecce, corollas +Deproperat tellus, fundit tibi munera, quicquid +Carpit Arabs, hortis quicquid frondescit Eois; +Altius, en! Lebanon gaudentia culmina tollit; +En! summo exultant nutantes vertice sylvae: +Mittit aromaticas vallis Saronica nubes, +Et juga Carmeli recreant fragrantia coelum. +Deserti laeta mollescunt aspera voce: +Auditur Deus! ecce Deus! reboantia circum +Saxa sonant, Deus! ecce Deus! deflectitur aether, +Demissumque Deum tellus capit; ardua cedrus, +Gloria sylvarum, dominum inclinata salutet: +Surgite convalles, tumidi subsidite montes! +Sternite saxa viam, rapidi discedite fluctus; +En! quem turba diu cecinerunt enthea, vates, +En! salvator adest; vultus agnoscite, caeci, +Divinos, surdos sacra vox permulceat aures. +Ille cutim spissam visus hebetare vetabit, +Reclusisque oculis infundet amabile lumen; +Obstrictasque diu linguas in carmina solvet. +Ille vias vocis pandet, flexusque liquentis +Harmoniae purgata novos mirabitur auris. +Accrescunt teneris tactu nova robora nervis: +Consuetus fulcro innixus reptare bacilli +Nunc saltu capreas, nunc cursu provocat euros. +Non planctus, non moesta sonant suspiria; pectus +Singultans mulcet, lachrymantes tergit ocellos. +Vincla coercebunt luctantem adamantina mortem, +Aeternoque orci dominator vuluere languens +Invalidi raptos sceptri plorabit honores. +Ut, qua dulce strepunt scatebrse, qua lasta virescunt +Pascua, qua blandum spirat purissimus aer, +Pastor agit pecudes, teneros modo suscipit agnos, +Et gremio fotis selectas porrigit herbas, +Amissas modo quserit oves, revocatque vagantes; +Fidus adest custos, seu nox furat humida nimbis, +Sive dies medius morieutia torreat arva. +Postera sic pastor divinus secla beabit, +Et curas felix patrias testabitur orbis. +Non ultra infestis concurrent agmina signis, +Hostiles oculis flammas jaculantia torvis; +Non litui accendent bellum, non campus ahenis +Triste coruscabit radiis; dabit hasta recusa +Vomerem, et in falcem rigidus curvabitur ensis. +Atria, pacis opus, surgent, finemque caduci +Natus ad optatum perducet coepta parentis. +Qui duxit sulcos, illi teret area messem, +Et serae texent vites umbracula proli. +Attoniti dumeta vident inculta coloni +Suave rubere rosis, sitientesque inter arenas +Garrula mirantur salientis murmura rivi. +Per saxa, ignivomi nuper spelaea draconis, +Canna viret, juncique tremit variabilis umbra. +Horruit implexo qua vallis sente, figurae +Surgit amans abies teretis, buxique sequaces +Artificis frondent dextrae; palmisque rubeta +Aspera, odoratae cedunt mala gramiua myrto. +Per valles sociata lupo lasciviet agna, +Cumque leone petet tutus praesepe juvencus. +Florea mansuetae petulantes vincula tigri +Per ludum pueri injicient, et fessa colubri +Membra viatoris recreabunt frigore linguae. +Serpentes teneris nil jam lethale micantes +Tractabit palmis infans, motusque trisulcae +Bidebit linguae innocuos, squamasque virentes +Aureaque admirans rutilantis fulgura cristae. +Indue reginam, turritae frontis honores +Tolle Salema sacros, quam circum gloria pennas +Explicat, incinctam radiatae luce tiaras! +En! formosa tibi spatiosa per atria proles +Ordinibus surgit densis, vitamque requirit +Impatiens, lenteque fluentes increpat annos. +Ecce peregrinis fervent tua limina turbis; +Barbarus, en! clarum divino lumine templum +Ingreditur, cultuque tuo mansuescere gaudet. +Cinnameos cumulos, Nabathaei munera veris, +Ecce! cremant genibus tritae regalibus arae. +Solis Ophyraeis crudum tibi montibus aurum +Maturant radii; tibi balsama sudat Idume. +Aetheris en! portas sacro fulgore micantes +Coelicolae pandunt, torrentis aurea lucis +Flumina prorumpunt; non posthac sole rubescet +India nascenti, placidaeve argentea noctis +Luna vices revehet; radios pater ipse diei +Proferet archetypos; coelestis gaudia lucis +Ipso fonte bibes, quae circumfusa beatam +Regiam inundabit, nullis cessura tenebris. +Littora deficiens arentia deseret aequor; +Sidera fumabunt, diro labefaeta tremore +Saxa cadent, solidique liquescent robora montis: +Tu secura tamen confusa elementa videbis, +Laetaque Messia semper dominabere rege, +Pollicitis firmata Dei, stabilita ruinis. + +[a] This translation has been severely criticised by Dr. Warton, in his + edition of Pope, vol. i. p. 105, 8vo. 1797. It certainly contains + some expressions that are not classical. Let it be remembered, + however, that it was a college exercise, performed with great + rapidity, and was, at first, praised, beyond all suspicion of + defect--This translation was first published in a Miscellany of + Poems by several hands. Published by J. Husbands, A.M. fellow of + Pembroke college, Oxon. 8vo. Oxford, 1731. Of Johnson's production, + Mr. Husbands says, in his preface, "The translation of Mr. Pope's + Messiah was delivered to his tutor as a college exercise, by Mr. + Johnson, a commoner of Pembroke college in Oxford, and 'tis hoped + will be no discredit to the excellent original." Mr. Husbands died + in the following year. + + +[Jan. 20, 21, 1773.] + Vitae qui varias vices +Rerum perpetuus temperat arbiter, + Laeto cedere lumini +Noctis tristitiam qui gelidae jubet, + Acri sanguine turgidos, +Obductosque oculos nubibus humidis + Sanari voluit meos; +Et me, cuncta beaus cui nocuit dies, + Luci reddidit et mihi. +Qua te laude, Deus, qua prece prosequar? + Sacri discipulis libri +Te semper studiis utilibus colam: + Grates, summe pater, tuis +Recte qui fruitur muneribus, dedit. + + +[Dec. 25, 1779.] +Nunc dies Christo memoranda nato +Fulsit, in pectus mihi fonte purum +Gaudium sacro fluat, et benigni + Gratia coeli! + +Christe, da tutam trepido quietem, +Christe, spem praesta stabilem timenti; +Da fidem certam, precibusque fidis + Annue, Christe. + + +[In lecto, die passionis, Apr. 13, 1781.] +Summe Deus, qui semper amas quodcunque creasti; + Judice quo, scelerum est poenituisse salus: +Da veteres noxas animo sic flere novato, + Per Christum ut veniam sit reperire mihi. + + +[In lecto, Dec. 25, 1782.] +Spe non inani confugis, +Peccator, ad latus meum; +Quod poscis, hand unquam tibi +Negabitur solatium. + + +(Nocte, inter 16 et 17 Junii, 1783[a]) +Summe pater, quodcunque tuum[b] de corpore Numen[c] +Hoc statuat[d], precibus[e] Christus adesse velit: +Ingenio parcas, nee sit mihi culpa rogasse[f], +Qua solum potero parte, placere[g] tibi. + +[a] The night, above referred to by Dr. Johnson, was that, in which a + paralytic stroke had deprived him of his voice; and, in the anxiety + he felt, lest it should, likewise, have impaired his understanding, + he composed the above lines, and said, concerning them, that he + knew, at the time, that they were not good, but then, that he deemed + his discerning this to be sufficient for quieting the anxiety before + mentioned, as it showed him, that his power of judging was not + diminished. +[b] Al. tuae. +[c] Al. leges. +[d] Al. statuant. +[e] Al. votis. +[f] Al. precari. +[g] Al. litare. + + +[Cal. Jan. in lecto, ante lucem, 1784.] +Summe dator vitae, naturae aeterne magister, + Causarum series quo moderante fluit, +Respice quem subiget senium, morbique seniles, + Quem terret vitae meta propinqua suae, +Respice inutiliter lapsi quem poenitet aevi; + Recte ut poeniteat, respice, magne parens. + + +Pater benigne, summa semper lenitas, +Crimine gravatam plurimo mentem leva: +Concede veram poenitentiam, precor, +Concede agendam legibus vitam tuis. +Sacri vagantes luminis gressus face +Rege, et tuere; quae nocent pellens procul: +Veniam petenti, summe, da veniam, pater; +Veniaeque sancta pacis adde gaudia: +Sceleris ut expers, omni et vacuus metu, +Te, mente pura, mente tranquilla colam, +Mihi dona morte haec impetret Christus sua. + + +[Jan. 18, 1784.] +Summe pater, puro collustra lumine pectus, + Anxietas noceat ne tenebrosa mihi. +In me sparsa manu virtutum semina larga + Sic ale, proveniat messis ut ampla boni. +Noctes atque dies animo spes laeta recurset; + Certa mihi sancto flagret amore fides; +Certa vetat dubitare fides, spes laeta timere; + Velle vetet cuiquam non bene sanctus amor. +Da, ne sint permissa, pater, mihi praemia frustra, + Et colere, et leges semper amare tuas. +Haec mihi, quo gentes, quo secula, Christe, piasti, + Sanguine, precanti promereare tuo! + + +[Feb. 27, 1784.] +Mens mea, quid quereris? veniet tibi mollior hora, + In summo ut videas numine laeta patrem; +Divinam insontes iram placavit Iesus; + Nunc est pro poena poenituisse reis. + + +CHRISTIANUS PERFECTUS. + +Qui cupit in sanctos, Christo cogente, referri, +Abstergat mundi labem, nec gaudia carnis +Captans, nec fastu tumidus, semperque futuro +Instet, et evellens terroris spicula corde, +Suspiciat tandem clementem in numine patrem. + Huic quoque, nec genti nec sectae noxius ulli, +Sit sacer orbis amor, miseris qui semper adesse +Gestiat, et, nullo pietatis limite clausus, +Cunctorum ignoscat vitiis, pictate fruatur. +Ardeat huic toto sacer ignis pectore, possit +Ut vitam, poscat si res, impendere vero. + Cura placere Deo sit prima, sit ultima; sanctae +Irruptum vitae cupiat servare tenorem; +Et sibi, delirans quanquam et peccator in horas +Displiceat, servet tutum sub pectore rectum: +Nec natet, et nunc has partes, nunc eligat illas, +Nec dubitet quem dicat herum, sed, totus in uno, +Se fidum addicat Christo, mortalia temnens. + Sed timeat semper, caveatque ante omnia, turbae +Ne stolidae similis, leges sibi segreget audax +Quas servare velit, leges quas lentus omittat, +Plenum opus effugiens, aptans juga mollia collo, +Sponte sua demens; nihilum decedere summae +Vult Deus, at qui cuncta dedit tibi, cuncta reposcit. +Denique perpetuo contendit in ardua nisu, +Auxilioque Dei fretus, jam mente serena +Pergit, et imperiis sentit se dulcibus actum. +Paulatim mores, animum, vitamque refingit, +Effigiemque Dei, quantum servare licebit, +Induit, et, terris major, coelestia spirat. + + +Aeterne rerum conditor, +Salutis aeternae dator; +Felicitatis sedibus +Qui nec scelestos exigis, +Quoscumque scelerum poenitet; +Da, Christe, poenitentiam, +Veniamque, Christe, da mihi; +Aegrum trahenti spiritum +Succurre praesens corpori; +Multo gravatam crimine +Mentem benignus alleva. + + +Luce collustret mihi pectus alma, +Pellat et tristes animi tenebras, +Nec sinat semper tremere ac dolere, +Gratia Christi. + +Me pater tandem reducem benigno +Summus amplexu foveat, beato +Me gregi sanctus socium beatum +Spiritus addat. + + +JEJUNIUM ET CIBUS. + +Serviat ut menti corpus jejunia serva, +Ut mens utatur corpore, sume cibos. + + +AD URBANUM[a], 1738. +Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus, +Urbane, nullis victe calumniis, + Cui fronte sertum in erudita + Perpetuo viret, et virebit; +Quid moliatur gens imitantium, +Quid et minetur, solicitus parum, + Vacare solis perge musis, + Juxta animo, studiisque foelix. +Linguae procacis plumbea spicula, +Fidens, superbo frange silentio; + Victrix per obstantes catervas + Sedulitas animosa tendet. +Intende nervos fortis, inanibus +Risurus olim nisibus emuli; + Intende jam nervos, habebis + Participes opera Camoenas. +Non ulla musis pagina gratior, +Quam quae severis ludicra jungere + Novit, fatigatamque nugis + Utilibus recreare mentem. +Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, +Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat + Immista, sic Iris refulget + Aethereis variata fucis. + +[a] See Gent. Mag. vol. viii. p. 156; and see also the Introduction to + vol. liv. + + +IN RIVUM A MOLA STOANA LICHFELDIAE DIFFLUENTEM. + +Errat adhuc vitreus per prata virentia rivus, + Quo toties lavi membra tenella puer; +Hic delusa rudi frustrabar brachia motu, + Dum docuit, blanda voce, natare pater. +Fecerunt rami latebras, tenebrisque diurnis + Pendula secretas abdidit arbor aquas. +Nunc veteres duris periere securibus umbrae, + Longinquisque oculis nuda lavacra patent. +Lympha, tamen, cursus agit indefessa perennis, + Tectaque qua fluxit, nunc et aperta fluit. +Quid ferat externi velox, quid deterat aetas, + Tu quoque securus res age, Nise, tuas. + + +[Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON][a] +[Post Lexicon Anglicanum auctum et emendatum.] + +Lexicon ad finem longo luctamine tandem +Scaliger ut duxit, tenuis pertaesus opellae, +Vile indignatus studium, nugasque molestas +Ingemit exosus, scribendaque lexica mandat +Damnatis, poenam pro poenis omnibus unam. + Ille quidem recte, sublimis, doctus et acer, +Quem decuit majora sequi, majoribus aptum, +Qui veterum modo facta ducum, modo carmina vatum, +Gesserat, et quicquid virtus, sapientia quicquid +Dixerat, imperiique vices, coelique meatus, +Ingentemque animo seclorum volveret orbem. + Fallimur exemplis; temere sibi turba scholarum +Ima tuas credit permitti, Scaliger, iras. +Quisque suum norit modulum; tibi, prime virorum, +Ut studiis sperem, aut ausim par esse querelis, +Non mihi sorte datum; lenti seu sanguinis obsint +Frigora, seu nimium longo jacuisse veterno, +Sive mihi mentem dederit natura minorem. + Te sterili functum cura, vocumque salebris +Tuto eluctatum, spatiis sapientia dia +Excipit aethereis, ars omnis plaudit amico, +Linguarumque omni terra discordia concors +Multiplici reducem circumsonat ore magistrum. + Me, pensi immunis cum jam mihi reddor, inertis +Desidiae sors dura manet, graviorque labore +Tristis et atra quies, et tardae taedia vitae. +Nascuntur curis curae, vexatque dolorum +Importuna cohors, vacuae mala somnia mentis. +Nunc clamosa juvant nocturnae gaudia mensae, +Nunc loca sola placent; frustra te, somne, recumbens, +Alme voco, impatiens noctis, metuensque diei. +Omnia percurro trepidus, circum omnia lustro, +Si qua usquam pateat melioris semita vitae, +Nec quid again invenio; meditatus grandia, cogor +Notior ipse mihi fieri, incultumque fateri +Pectus, et ingenium vano se robore jactans. +Ingenium, nisi materiem doctrina ministrat, +Cessat inops rerum, ut torpet, si marmoris absit +Copia, Phidiaci foecunda potentia coeli. +Quicquid agam, quocunque ferar, conatibus obstat +Res angusta domi, et macrae penuria mentis. + Non rationis opes animus, nunc parta recensens +Conspicit aggestas, et se miratur in illis, +Nec sibi de gaza praesens quod postulat usus +Summus adesse jubet celsa dominator ab arce; +Non, operum serie seriem dum computat aevi, +Praeteritis fruitur, laetos aut sumit honores +Ipse sui judex, actae bene munera vitae; +Sed sua regna videns, loca nocte silentia late +Horret, ubi vanae species, umbraeque fugaces, +Et rerum volitant rarae per inane figurae. + Quid faciam? tenebrisne pigram damnare senectam +Restat? an accingar studiis gravioribus audax? +Aut, hoc si nimium est, tandem nova lexica poscam? + +[a] For a translation of this poem, see Murphy's Essay on the Life and + Genius of Dr. Johnson, prefixed to the present volume. + + +AD THOMAM LAURENCE, +MEDICUM DOCTISSIMUM, + +Cum filium peregre agentem desiderio nimis tristi prosequeretur. + +Fateris ergo, quod populus solet +Crepare vecors, nil sapientiam + Prodesse vitae, literasque + In dubiis dare terga rebus. + +Tu, queis laborat sors hominum, mala +Nec vincis acer, nee pateris pius; + Te mille succorum potentem + Destituit medicina mentis. + +Per caeca noctis taedia turbidae, +Pigrae per horas lucis inutiles, + Torpesque, languescisque, curis + Solicitus nimis heu! paternis. + +Tandem dolori plus satis est datum, +Exsurge fortis, nunc animis opus, + Te, docta, Laurenti, vetustas, + Te medici revocant labores. + +Permitte summo quicquid habes patri, +Permitte fidens; et muliebribus, + Amice, majorem querelis + Redde tuis, tibi redde, mentem. + + +IN THEATRO, MARCH 8, 1771. + +Tertii verso quater orbe lustri, +Quid theatrales tibi, Crispe, pompae? +Quam decet canos male litteratos + Sera voluptas! + +Tene mulceri fidibus canoris? +Tene cantorum modulis stupere? +Tene per pictas, oculo elegante, + Currere formas? + +Inter aequales, sine felle liber, +Codices, veri studiosus, inter +Rectius vives. Sua quisque carpat + Gaudia gratus. + +Lusibus gaudet puer otiosis, +Luxus oblectat juvenem theatri, +At seni fluxo sapienter uti + Tempore restat. + + +INSULA KENNETHI, INTER HEBRIDAS. + +Parva quidem regio, sed religione priorum + Clara, Caledonias panditur inter aquas. +Voce ubi Cennethus populos domuisse feroces + Dicitur, et vanos dedocuisse deos. +Huc ego delatus placido per caerulea cursu, + Scire locus volui quid daret iste novi. +Illic Leniades humili regnabat in aula, + Leniades, magnis nobilitatus avis. +Una duas cepit casa cum genitore puellas, + Quas amor undarum crederet esse deas. +Nec tamen inculti gelidis latuere sub antris, + Accola Danubii qualia saevus habet. +Mollia non desunt vacuae solatia vitae, + Sive libros poscant otia, sive lyram. +Fulserat ilia dies, legis qua docta supernae + Spes hominum et curas gens procul esse jubet. +Ut precibus justas avertat numinis iras, + Et summi accendat pectus amore boni. +Ponte inter strepitus non sacri munera cultus + Cessarunt, pietas hic quoque cura fuit: +Nil opus est aeris sacra de turre sonantis + Admonitu, ipsa suas nunciat hora vices. +Quid, quod sacrifici versavit foemina libros. + Sint pro legitimis pura labella sacris-- +Quo vagor ulterius? quod ubique requiritur hic est; + Hic secura quies, hic et honestus amor. + + +SKIA. + +Ponti profundis clausa recessibus, +Strepens procellis, rupibus obsita, +Quam grata defesso virentem, +Skia, sinum nebulosa pandis! + +His cura, credo, sedibus exulat; +His blanda certe pax habitat locis; + Non ira, non moeror quietis + Insidias meditatur horis. + +At non cavata rupe latescere, +Menti nec aegrae montibus aviis + Prodest vagari, nec frementes + In specula numerare fluctus. + +Humana virtus non sibi sufficit; +Datur nec aequum cuique animum sibi + Parare posse, utcunque jactet + Grandiloquus nimis alta Zeno. + +Exaestuantis pectoris impetum, +Rex summe, solus tu regis, arbiter; + Mentisque, te tollente, fluctus; + Te, resident, moderante fluctus. + + +ODE DE SKIA INSULA. + +Permeo terras, ubi nuda rupes +Saxeas miscet nebulis ruinas, +Torva ubi rident steriles coloni + Rura labores. + +Pervagor gentes hominum ferorum, +Vita ubi nullo decorata cultu +Squallet informis, tugurique fumis + Foeda latescit. + +Inter erroris salebrosa longi, +Inter ignotae strepitus loquelae, +Quot modis, mecum, quid agat, requiro, + Thralia dulcis? + +Seu viri curas pia nupta mulcet, +Seu fovet mater sobolem benigna, +Sive cum libris novitate pascit + Sedula mentem. + +Sit memor nostri, fideique solvat +Fida mercedem, meritoque blandum +Thraliae discant resonare nomen + Littora Skiae. + + +SPES. + +Apr. 16, 1783. + +Hora sic peragit citata cursum; +Sic diem sequitur dies fugacem! +Spes novas nova lux parit, secunda +Spondens omnia credulis homullis; +Spes ludit stolidas, metuque caeco +Lux angit, miseros ludens homullos. + + +VERSUS COLLARI CAPRAE DOMINI BANKS INSCRIBENDI. + +Perpetui, ambita bis terra, praemia lactis + Haec habet, altrici capra secunda Jovis. + + +AD FOEMINAM QUANDAM GENEROSAM QUAE LIBERTATIS +CAUSAE IN SERMONE PATROCINATA FUERAT. + +Liber ut esse velim, suasisti, pulchra Maria: + Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria, vale. + + +JACTURA TEMPORIS. + +Hora perit furtim laetis, mens temporis aegra + Pigritiam incusat, nec minus hora perit. + +Quas navis recipit, quantum sit pondus aquarum, + Dimidrum tanti ponderis intret onus. + +Quot vox missa pedes abit, horae parte secunda? + Undecies centum denos quater adde duosque. + + +[Greek: Eis BIRCHION][a] + +[Greek:] +Eiden Alaetheiae proaen chairousa graphonta + Haeroon te bious Birchion, aede sophon +Kai bion, eipen, hotan rhipsaes thanatoio belessi, + Sou pote grapsomenon Birchion allon echois. + +[a] The rev. Dr. Thomas Birch, author of the History of the Royal + Society, and other works of note. + + +[Greek:] Eis to taes ELISSAES peri ton oneiron ainigma.[a] +Tae kallous dunamei ti telos; Zeus panta dedoken + Kupridi, und' autou skaeptra memaele theo. +Aek Dios estin Onap, theios pot' egrapsen Homaeros, + Alla tod' eis thnaetous Kupris epempsen onar +Zeus mounos phlogoenti poleis ekperse kerauno, + Ommasi lampra Dios Kupris oista pherei. + +[a] When Johnson had composed this Greek epigram to Mrs. Elizabeth + Carter, he said, in a letter to Cave, "I think she ought to be + celebrated in as many different languages as Louis le grand." His + admiration of her learning was so great, that when he wished to + praise the acquirements of any one excessively, he remarked that, he + knew as much Greek almost as Mrs. Carter. The verses in Elizae + Aenigma are addressed to the same excellent and accomplished lady. + It is now nearly an insult to add, that she translated Epictetus, + and contributed Nos. 44 and 100, to the Rambler. See Boswell, i. + iii. and iv. and preface to Rambler, ii.--ED. + + +IN ELIZAE AENIGMA. + +Quis formae modus imperio? Venus arrogat audax + Omnia, nec curae sunt sua sceptra Jovi. +Ab Jove Maeonides descendere somnia narrat: + Haec veniunt Cypriae somnia missa Deae. +Jupiter unus erat, qui stravit fulmine gentes; + Nunc armant Veneris lumina tela Jovis. + +[a]O! Qui benignus crimina ignoscis, pater, + Facilisque semper confitenti ades reo, +Aurem faventem precibus O! praebe meis; + Scelerum catena me laborantem grave +Aeterna tandem liberet clementia, + Ut summa laus sit, summa Christo gloria. + +Per vitae tenebras rerumque incerta vagantem + Numine praesenti me tueare, pater! +Me ducat lux sancta, Deus, lux sancta sequatur; + Usque regat gressus gratia fida meos. +Sic peragam tua jussa libens, accinctus ad omne + Mandatum vivam, sic moriarque tibi. + +Me, pater omnipotens, de puro respice coelo, + Quem moestum et timidum crimina dira gravant; +Da veniam pacemque mihi, da, mente serena, + Ut tibi quae placeant, omnia promptus agam. +Solvi, quo Christus cunctis delicta redemit, + Et pro me pretium, tu patiare, pater. + +[a] This and the three following articles are metrical versions of + collects in the liturgy; the first, of that, beginning, "O God, + whose nature and property"; the second and third of the collects for + the seventeenth and twenty-first Sundays after Trinity; and the + fourth, of the first collect in the communion service. + + +[Dec. 5, 1784.][a] +Summe Deus, cui caeca patent penetralia cordis; + Quem nulla anxietas, nulla cupido fugit; +Quem nil vafrities peccantum subdola celat; + Omnia qui spectans, omnia ubique regis; +Mentibus afflatu terrenas ejice sordes + Divino, sanctus regnet ut intus amor: +Eloquiumque potens linguis torpentious affer, + Ut tibi laus omni semper ab ore sonet: +Sanguine quo gentes, quo secula cuncta piavit, + Haec nobis Christus promeruisse velit! + +[a] The day on which he received the sacrament for the last time; and + eight days before his decease. + + +PSALMUS CXVII. + +Anni qua volucris ducitur orbita, +Patrem coelicolum perpetuo colunt + Quo vis sanguine cretae + Gentes undique carmine. + +Patrem, cujus amor blandior in dies +Mortales miseros servat, alit, fovet, + Omnes undique gentes, + Sancto dicite carmine. + + +[a]Seu te saeva fames, levitas sive improba fecit, + Musca, meae comitem, participemque dapis, +Pone metum, rostrum fidens immitte culullo, + Nam licet, et toto prolue laeta mero. +Tu, quamcunque tibi velox indulserit annus, + Carpe diem; fugit, heu, non revocanda dies! +Quae nos blanda comes, quae nos perducat eodem, + Volvitur hora mihi, volvitur hora tibi! +Una quidem, sic fata volunt, tibi vivitur aestas, + Eheu, quid decies plus mihi sexta dedit! +Olim praeteritae numeranti tempora vitae, + Sexaginta annis non minor unus erit. + +[a] The above is a version of the song, "Busy, curious, thirsty fly." + + +[b]Habeo, dedi quod alteri; +Habuique, quod dedi mihi; +Sed quod reliqui, perdidi. + +[b] These lines are a version of three sentences that are said, in the + manuscript, to be "On the monument of John of Doncaster;" and which + are as follow: + + What I gave, that I have; + What I spent, that I had; + What I left, that I lost. + + +[a]E WALTONI PISCATORE PERFECTO EXCERPTUM. + +Nunc, per gramina fusi, +Densa fronde salicti, +Dum defenditur imber, +Molles ducimus horas. +Hic, dum debita morti +Paulum vita moratur, +Nunc rescire priora, +Nunc instare futuris, +Nunc summi prece sancta +Patris numen adire est. +Quicquid quraeitur ultra, +Caeco ducit amore, +Vel spe ludit inani, +Luctus mox pariturum. + +[a] These lines are a translation of part of a song in the Complete + Angler of Isaac Walton, written by John Chalkhill, a friend of + Spenser, and a good poet in his time. They are but part of the last + stanza, which, that the reader may have it entire, is here given at + length: + +If the sun's excessive heat + Make our bodies swelter, +To an osier hedge we get + For a friendly shelter! + Where in a dike, + Perch or pike, + Roach or dace, + We do chase, +Bleak or gudgeon, + Without grudging, + We are still contented. +Or we sometimes pass an hour + Under a green willow, +That defends us from a shower, + Making earth our pillow; + Where we may + Think and pray, + Before death + Stops our breath: + Other joys + Are but toys, + And to be lamented. + + +[a]Quisquis iter tendis, vitreas qua lucidus undas +Speluncae late Thamesis praetendit opacae; +Marmorea trepidant qua lentae in fornice guttae, +Crystallisque latex fractus scintillat acutis; +Gemmaque, luxuriae nondum famulata nitenti +Splendit, et incoquitur tectum sine fraude metallum; +Ingredere O! rerum pura cole mente parentem; +Auriferasque auri metuens scrutare cavernas. +Ingredere! Egeriae sacrum en tibi panditur antrum! +Hic, in se totum, longe per opaca futuri +Temporis, Henricum rapuit vis vivida mentis: +Hic pia Vindamius traxit suspiria, in ipsa +Morte memor patriae; hic Marmonti pectore prima +Coelestis fido caluerunt semina flammae. +Temnere opes, pretium sceleris, patriamque tueri +Fortis, ades; tibi, sponte, patet venerabile limen. + +[a] The above lines are a version of Pope's verses on his own grotto, + which begin, "Thou, who shall stop where Thames' translucent wave." + + + +GRAECORTUM EPIGRAMMATUM VERSIONES METRICAE. + + Pag. 2. Brodaei edit. Bas. ann. 1549. +Non Argos pugilem, non me Messana creavit; + Patria Sparta mihi est, patria clara virum. +Arte valent isti, mihi robo revivere solo est, + Convenit ut natis, inclyta Sparta, tuis. + + Br. 2. +Quandoquidem passim nulla ratione feruntur, + Cuncta cinis, cuncta et ludicra, cuncta nihil. + + Br. 5. +Pectore qui duro, crudos de vite racemos, + Venturi exsecuit vascula prima meri, +Labraque constrictus, semesos, jamque terendos + Sub pedibus, populo praetereunte, jacit. +Supplicium huic, quoniam crescentia gaudia laesit, + Det Bacchus, dederat quale, Lycurge, tibi. +Hae poterant uvae laeto convivia cantu + Mulcere, aut pectus triste levare malis. + + Br. 8. +Fert humeris claudum validis per compita caecus, + Hic oculos socio commodat, ille pedes. + + Br. 10. +Qui, mutare vias ausus terraeque marisque, + Trajecit montes nauta, fretumque pedes, +Xerxi, tercentum Spartae Mars obstitit acris + Militibus; terris sit pelagoque pudor! + + Br. 11. +Sit tibi, Calliope, Parnassum, cura, tenenti, +Alter ut adsit Homerus, adest etenim alter Achilles. + + Br. 18. +Ad musas Venus haec: Veneri parete, puellae, + In vos ne missus spicula tendat amor. +Haec musae ad Venerem: sic Marti, diva, mineris, + Hue nunquam volitat debilis iste puer. + + Br. 19. +Prospera sors nec te strepitoso turbine tollat, + Nec menti injiciat sordida cura jugum; +Nam vita incertis incerta impellitur auris, + Omnesque in partes tracta, retracta fluit; +Firma manet virtus; virtuti innitere, tutus + Per fluctus vitae sic tibi cursus erit. + + Br. 24. +Hora bonis quasi nunc instet suprema fruaris, + Plura ut victurus secula, parce bonis: +Divitiis, utrinque cavens, qui tempore parcit, + Tempore divitiis utitur, ille sapit. + + Br. 24. +Nunquam jugera messibus onusta, aut +Quos Gyges cumulos habebat auri; +Quod vitae satis est, peto, Macrine, +Mi, nequid nimis, est nimis probatum. + + Br. 24. +Non opto aut precibus posco ditescere, paucis + Sit contenta mihi vita, dolore carens. + + Br. 24 +Recta ad pauperiem tendit, cui corpora cordi est + Multa alere, et multas aedificare domos. + + Br. 24. +Tu neque dulce putes alienae accumbere mensae; + Nec probrosa avidae grata sit offa gulae; +Nec ficto fletu, fictis solvere cachinnis, + Arridens domino, collacrymansque tuo; +Laetior hand tecum, tecum neque tristior unquam, + Sed Miliae ridens, atque dolens Miliae. + + Br. 26. +Nil non mortale est mortalibus; omne quod est hie + Praetereunt, aut hos praeterit omne bonum. + + Br. 26. +Democrite, invisas homines majore cachinno; + Plus tibi ridendum secula nostra dabunt. +Heraclite, fluat lacrymarum crebrior imber; + Vita hominum nunc plus quod misereris habet. +Interea dubito; tecum me causa nec ulla + Ridere, aut tecum me lacrymare jubet. + + Br. 26. +Elige iter vitae, ut possis: rixisque, dolisque, + Perstrepit omne forum; cura molesta domi est; +Rura labor lassat; mare mille pericula terrent; + Verte solum, fient causa timoris opes; +Paupertas misera est; multae, cum conjuge, lites + Tecta ineunt; coelebs omnia solus ages. +Proles aucta gravat, rapta orbat; caeca juventae est + Virtus; canities cauta vigore caret. +Ergo optent homines, aut nunquam in luminis oras + Venisse, aut visa luce repente mori. + +Elige iter vitae, ut mavis: prudenua, lausque, + Permeat omne forum; vita quieta domi est; +Rus ornat natura; levat maris aspera lucrum, + Verte solum, donat plena crumena decus; +Pauperies latitat; cum conjuge, gaudia multa + Tecta ineunt; coelebs impediere minus; +Mulcet amor prolis, sopor est sine prole profundus; + Praecellit juvenis vi, pietate senex. +Nemo optet, nunquam venisse in luminis oras, + Aut periisse; scatet vita benigna bonis. + + Br. 27. +Vita omnis scena est ludusque: aut ludere disce + Seria seponens, aut mala dura pati. + + Br. 27. +Quae, sine morte, fuga est vitae, quam turba malorum + Non vitanda gravem, non toleranda facit? +Dulcia dat natura quidem, mare, sidera, terras, + Lunaque quas, et sol, itque reditque vias. +Terror inest aliis, moerorque, et siquid habebis, + Forte, boni, ultrices experiere vices. + + Br. 27. +Terram adii nudus, de terra nudus abibo. + Quid labor efficiet? non, nisi nudus, ero. + + Br. 27. +Natus eram lacrymans, lacrymans e luce recedo: + Sunt quibus a lacrymis vix vacat ulla dies. +Tale hominum genus est, infirmum, triste, misellum, + Quod mors in cineres solvit, et abdit humo. + + Br. 29. +Quisquis adit lectos, elata uxore, secundos, + Naufragus iratas ille retentat aquas. + + Br. 30. +Foelix ante alios nullius debitor aeris; + Hunc sequitur coelebs; tertius, orbe, venis. +Nee male res cessit, subito si funere sponsam, + Didatus magna dote, recondis humo. +His sapiens lectis, Epicurum quaerere frustra + Quales sint monades, qua fit inane, sinas. + + Br. 31. +Optarit quicunque senex sibi longius aevum, + Dignus, qui multa in lustra senescat, erit. +Cum procul est, optat, cum venit, quisque senectam, + Incusat, semper spe meliora videt. + + Br. 46. +Omnis vita nimis brevis est felicibus, una + Nox miseris longi temporis instar habet. + + Br. 55. +Gratia ter grata est velox, sin forte moretur, + Gratia vix restat nomine digna suo. + + Br. 56. +Seu prece poscatur, seu non, da, Jupiter, omne, +Magne, bonum; omne malum, et poscentibus, abnue nobis. + + Br. 60. +Me, cane vitato, canis excipit alter; eodem + In me animo tellus gignit et unda feras, +Nec mirum; restat lepori conscendere coelum, + Sidereus tamen hie territat, ecce canis! + + Br. 70. +Telluri arboribus ver frondens, sidera coelo, + Graeciae et urbs, urbi est ista propago, decus. + + Br. 75. +Impia facta patrans, homines fortasse latebis, + Non poteris, meditans prava, latere deos. + + Br. 75. +Antiope satyrum, Danae aurum, Europa juvencum, + Et cycnum fecit Leda petita, Jovem. + + Br. 92. +Aevi sat novi quam sim brevis; astra tuenti, + Per certas; stabili lege, voluta vices, +Tangitur haud pedibus tellus: conviva deorum + Expleor ambrosiis, exhilarorque cibis. + + Br. 96. +Quod nimium est sit ineptum, hinc, ut dixere priores, + Et melli nimio fellis amaror inest. + + Br. 103. +Puppe gubernatrix sedisti, audacia, prima + Divitiis acuens aspera corda virum; +Sola rates struis infidas, et dulcis amorem + Lucri ulciscendum mox nece sola doces. +Aurea secla hominum, quorum spectandus ocellis +E longinquo itidem pontus et orcus erat. + + Br. 126. +Ditescis, credo, quid restat? quicquid habebis + In tumulum tecum, morte jubente, trahes? +Divitias cumulas, pereuntes negligis horas; + Incrementa aevi non cumulare potes. + + Br. 120. +Mater adulantum, prolesque, pecunia, curae, + Teque frui timer est, teque carere dolor. + + Br. 126. +Me miserum sors omnis habet; florentibus annis, + Pauper eram, nummis diffluit area senis; +Queis uti poteram quondam, fortuna negavit, + Queis uti nequeo, nunc mihi praebet, opes. + + Br. 127. +Mnemosyne, ut Sappho, mellita voce, canentem + Audiit, irata est, ne nova musa foret. + + Br. 152. +Cum tacet indoctus, sapientior esse videtur, + Et morbus tegitur, dum premit ora pudor. + + Br. 155. +Nunc huic, nunc aliis cedens, cui farra Menippus + Credit, Achaemenidae nuper agellus eram. +Quod nulli proprium versat fortuna, putabat + Ille suum stolidus, nunc putat ille suum. + + Br. 156. +Non fortuna sibi te gratum tollit in altum; + At docet, exemplo, vis sibi quanta, tuo. + + Br. 162. +Hic, aurum ut reperit, laqueum abjicit; alter ut aurum + Non reperit, nectit quem reperit, laqueum. + + Br. 167. +Vive tuo ex ammo: vario rumore loquetur + De te plebs audax, hic bene, et ille male. + + Br. 168. +Vitae rosa brevis est; properans si carpere nolis, + Quaerenti obveniet mox sine flore rubus. + + Br. 170. +Pulicibus morsus, restincta lampade, stultus + Exclamat: nunc me cernere desinitis. + + Br. 202, +Mendotum pinxit Diodorus, et exit imago, + Praeter Menodotura, nullius absimilis. + + Br. 205. +Haud lavit Phido, haud tetigit, mihi febre calenti + In mentem ut venit nominis, interii. + + Br. 210. +Nycticorax cantat lethale; sed ipsa, canenti + Demophilo auscultans, Nycticorax moritur. + + Br. 212. +Hermem deorum nuncium, pennis levem, +Quo rege gaudent Arcades, furem boum, +Hujus palestrae qui vigil custos stetit, +Clam nocte tollit Aulus, et ridens ait: +Praestat magistro saepe discipulus suo. + + Br. 223. +Qui jacet hic servus vixit: nunc, lumine cassus, + Dario magno non minus ille potest. + + Br. 227. +Funus Alexandri mentitur fama; fidesque + Si Phoebo, victor nescit obire diem. + + Br. 241. +Nauta, quis hoc jaceat, ne percontere, sepulchro, + Eveniat tantum mitior unda tibi! + + Br. 256. +Cur opulentus eges? tua cuncta in foenore ponis: + Sic aliis dives, tu tibi pauper agis. + + Br. 262. +Qui pascis barbam, si crescis mente, Platoni, + Hirce, parem nitido te tua barba facit. + + Br. 266. +Clarus Ioannes, reginae affinis, ab alto + Sanguine Anastasii; cuncta sepulta jacent: +Et pius, et recti cultor: non illa jacere + Dicam; stat virtus non subigenda neci. + + Br. 267. +Cunctiparens tellus, salve, levis esto pusillo + Lysigeni, fuerat non gravis ille tibi. + + Br. 285. +Naufragus hic jaceo; contra, jacet ecce colonus! + Idem orcus terras, sic, pelagoque subest. + + Br. 301. +Quid salvere jubes me, pessime? Corripe gressus; + Est mihi quod non te rideo, plena salus. + + Br. 304. +Et ferus est Timon sub terris; janitor orci, + Cerbere, te morsu ne petat ille, cave. + + Br. 307. +Vitam a terdecimo sextus mihi finiet annus, + Astra mathematicos si modo vera docent. +Sufficit hoc votis, flos hic pulcherrimus aevi est, + Et senium triplex Nestoris urna capit. + + Br. 322. +Zosima, quae solo fuit olim corpore serva, +Corpore nunc etiam libera facta fuit. + + Br. 326. +Exiguum en! Priami monumentum; hand ille meretur + Quale, sed hostiles, quale dedere manus. + + Br. 326. +Hector dat gladium Ajaci, dat balteum et Ajax + Hectori, et exitio munus utrique fuit. + + Br. 344. +Ut vis, ponte minax, modo tres discesseris ulnas + Ingemina fluctus, ingeminaque sonum. + + Br. 344. +Naufragus hic jaceo, fidens tamen utere velis; +Tutum aliis aequor, me pereunte, fuit. + + Br. 398. +Heraclitus ego; indoctae ne laedite liuguae + Subtile ingenium, quaero, capaxque mei; +Unus homo mihi pro soxcentis, turba popelli + Pro nullo, clamo nunc tumulatus idem. + + Br. 399. +Ambraciota, vale lux alma, Cleombrotus infit, + Et saltu e muro ditis opaca petit: +Triste nihil passus, animi at de sorte Platonis + Scripta legens, sola vivere mente cupit. + + Br. 399. +Servus, Epictetus, mutilato corpore, vixi, +Pauperieque Irus, curaque summa deum. + + Br. 445. +Unde hic Praxiteles? nudam vidistis, Adoni, + Et Pari, et Anchisa, non alius, Venerem. + + Br. 451. +Sufflato accendis quisquis carbone lucernam, + Corde meo accendens; ardeo totus ego. + + Br. 486. +Jupiter hoc templum, ut, siquando relinquit Olympum, + Atthide non alius desit Olympus, habet. + + Br. 487. +Civis et externus grati; domus hospita nescit + Quaerere, quis, cujus, quis pater, unde venis. + +POMPEII. + + Br. 487. +Cum fugere haud possit, fractis victoria pennis + Te manet, imperii, Roma, perenne decus. + + Br. 488. +Latrones, alibi locupletum quaerite tecta, + Assidet huic, custos, strenua pauperies. + +Fortunae malim adversae tolerare procellas; + Quam domini ingentis ferre supercilium. + +En, Sexto, Sexti meditatur imago, silente; + Orator statua est, statuaeque orator imago. + +Pulchra est virgiuitas intacta, at vita periret, + Omnes si vellent virginitate frui; +Nequitiam fugiens, servata contrahe lege + Conjugium, ut pro te des hominem patriae. + +Fert humeris, venerabile onus, Cythereius heros + Per Trojae flammas, densaque tela, patrem: +Clamat et Argivis, vetuli, ne tangite; vita + Exiguum est Marti, sed mihi grande, lucrum. + +Forma animos hominum capit, at, si gratia desit, + Non tenet; esca natat pulchra, sed hamus abest, + +Cogitat aut loquitur nil vir, nil cogitat uxor, + Felici thalamo non, puto, rixa strepit. + +Buccina disjecit Thebarum moenia, struxit + Quae lyra, quam sibi non concinit harmonia! + +Mente senes olim juvenis, Faustine, premebas, + Nunc juvenum terres robore corda senex. +Laevum at utrumque decus, juveni quod praebuit olim + Turba senum, juvenes nunc tribuere seni. + +Exceptae hospitio, musae tribuere libellos + Herodoto, hospitii praemia, quaeque suum. + +Stella mea, observans stellas, dii me aethera faxint + Multis ut te oculis sim potis aspicere. + +Clara Cheroneae soboles, Plutarche, dicavit + Hanc statuam ingenio, Roma benigna, tuo. +Das bene collatos, quos Roma et Graecia jactat, + Ad divos, paribus passibus, ire duces; +Sed similem, Plutarche, tuae describere vitam + Non poteras, regio non tulit ulla parem. + +Dat tibi Pythagoram pictor; quod ni ipse tacere + Pythagoras mallet, vocem habuisset opus. + +Prolem Hippi, et sua qua meliorem secula nullum + Videre, Archidicen, haec tumulavit humus; +Quam, regum sobolem, nuptam, matrem, atque sororem + Fecerunt nulli sors titulique gravem. + +Cecropidis gravis hic ponor, Martique dicatus, + Quo tua signantur gesta, Philippe, lapis. +Spreta jacet Marathon, jacet et Salaminia laurus, + Omnia dum Macedum gloria et arma premunt. +Sint Demosthenica ut jurata cadavera voce, + Stabo illis qui sunt, quique fuere, gravis. + +Floribus in pratis, legi quos ipse, coronam + Contextam variis, do, Rhodoclea, tibi: +Hic anemone humet, confert narcissus odores + Cum violis; spirant lilia mista rosis. +His redimita comas, mores depone superbos, + Haec peritura nitent; tu peritura nites! + +Murem Asclepiades sub tecto ut vidit avarus, + Quid tibi, mus, mecum, dixit, amice, tibi? +Mus blandum ridens, respondit, pelle timorem: + Hic, bone vir, sedem, nori alimenta, peto. + +Saepe tuum in tumulum lacrymarum decidit imber, + Quem fundit blando junctus amore dolor; +Charus enim cunctis, tanquam, dum vita manebat, + Cuique esses natus, cuique sodalis, eras. +Heu quam dura preces sprevit, quam surda querelas + Parca, juventutem non miserata tuam! + +Arti ignis lucem tribui, tamen artis et ignis + Nunc ope, supplicii vivit imago mei. +Gratia nulla hominum mentes tenet, ista Promethei + Munera muneribus, si retulere fabri. + +Illa triumphatrix Graium consueta procorum + Ante suas agmen Lais habere fores, +Hoc Veneri speculum; nolo me cernere qualis + Sum nunc, nec possum cernere qualis eram. + +Crethida fabellas dulces garrire peritam + Prosequitur lacrymis filia moesta Sami: +Blandam lanifici sociam sine fine loquacem, + Quam tenet hic, cunctas quae manet, alta quies. + +Dicite, Causidici, gelido nunc marmore magni + Mugitum tumulus comprimit Amphiloci. + +Si forsan tumulum quo conditur Eumarus aufers, + Nil lucri facies; ossa habet et cinerem. + + +EPICTETI. + +Me, rex deorum, tuque, due, necessitas, +Quo, lege vestra, vita me feret mea. +Sequar libenter, sin reluctari velim, +Fiam scelestus, nec tamen minus sequar. + + +E THEOCRITO. + +Poeta, lector, hic quiescit Hipponax, +Si sis scelestus, praeteri, procul, marmor: +At te bonum si noris, et bonis natum, +Tutum hic sedile, et si placet, sopor tutus. + + +EUR. MED. 193--203. + +Non immerito culpanda venit +Proavum vecors insipientia, +Qui convivia, lautasque dapes, +Hilarare suis jussere modis +Cantum, vitae dulce levamen. +At nemo feras iras hominum +Domibus claris exitiales, +Voce aut fidibus pellere docuit; +Queis tamen aptam ferre medelam +Utile cunctis hoc opus esset; +Namque, ubi mensas onerant epulae, +Quorsum dulcis luxuria soni? +Sat laetitia sine subsidiis, +Pectora molli mulcet dubiae +Copia coenae. + + +[Greek:] +Tois Araes brotoloighos enhi ptolemoisi memaene, +Kahi toios Paphiaen plaesen eroti thean. + +The above is a version of a Latin epigram on the famous John duke of +Marlborough, by the abbé Salvini, which is as follows: + + Haud alio vultu fremuit Mars acer in armis: + Haud alio Cypriam percutit ore deam. + +The duke was, it seems, remarkably handsome in his person, to which the +second line has reference. + + +SEPTEM AETATES. + +Prima parit terras aetas; siccatque secunda; +Evocat Abramum dein tertia; quarta relinquit +Aegyptum; templo Solomonis quinta supersit; +Cyrum sexta timet; laetatur septima Christo. +[a]His Tempelmanni numeris descripseris orbem, +[b]Cum sex ceiituriis Judaeo millia septem. +Myrias[c] AEgypto cessit his septima pingui. +Myrias adsciscit sibi nonagesima septem +Imperium qua Turca[d] ferox exercet iniquum. + Undecies binas decadas et millia septem +Sortitur[e] Pelopis tellus quae nomine gaudet. + Myriadas decies septem numerare jubebit +Pastor Arabs: decies octo sibi Persa requirit. +Myriades sibi pulchra duas, duo millia poscit +Parthenope. [f]Novies vult tellus mille Sicana. +[g]Papa suo regit imperio ter millia quinque. +Cum sex centuriis numerat sex millia Tuscus[h]. +Centuria Ligures[i] augent duo millia quarta. +Centuriae octavam decadem addit Lucca[j] secundae. +Ut dicas, spatiis quam latis imperet orbi +[k]Russia, myriadas ter denas adde trecentis. +[l]Sardiniam cum sexcentis sex millia complent. + Cum sexagenis, dum plura recluserit aetas, +Myriadas ter mille homini dat terra[m] colendas. + Vult sibi vicenas millesima myrias addi, +Vicenis quinas, Asiam[n] metata celebrem. + Se quinquagenis octingentesima jungit +Myrias, ut menti pateat tota Africa[o] doctae. + Myriadas septem decies Europa[p] ducentis +Et quadragenis quoque ter tria millia jungit. + Myriadas denas dat, quinque et millia, sexque +Centurias, et tres decades Europa Britannis[q]. + Ter tria myriadi conjungit millia quartae, +Centuriae quartae decades quinque[r] Anglia nectit. + Millia myriadi septem foecunda secundae +Et quadragenis decades quinque addit Ierne[s]. + Quingentis quadragenis socialis adauget +Millia Belga[t] novem. + Ter sex centurias Hollandia jactat opima. +Undecimum Camber vult septem millibus addi. + +[a] To the above lines, (which are unfinished, and can, therefore, be + only offered as a fragment,) in the doctor's manuscript, are + prefixed the words "Geographia Metrica." As we are referred, in the + first of the verses, to Templeman, for having furnished the + numerical computations that are the subject of them, his work has + been, accordingly, consulted, the title of which is, a new Survey of + the Globe; and which professes to give an accurate mensuration of + all the empires, kingdoms, and other divisions thereof, in the + square miles that they respectively contain. On comparison of the + several numbers in these verses, with those set down by Templeman, + it appears that nearly half of them are precisely the same; the rest + are not quite so exactly done.--For the convenience of the reader, + it has been thought right to subjoin each number, as it stands in + Templeman's works, to that in Dr. Johnson's verses which refers to + it. +[b] In this first article that is versified, there is an accurate + conformity in Dr. Johnson's number to Templeman's; who sets down the + square miles of Palestine at 7,600. +[c] The square miles of Egypt are, in Templeman, 140,700. +[d] The whole Turkish empire, in Templeman, is computed at 960,057 + square miles. +[e] In the four following articles, the numbers in Templeman and in + Johnson's verses are alike.--We find, accordingly, the Morea, in + Templeman, to be set down at 7,220 square miles.--Arabia, at + 700,000.--Persia, at 800,000.--and Naples, at 22,000. +[f] Sicily, in Templeman, is put down at 9,400. +[g] The pope's dominions, at 14,868. +[h] Tuscany, at 6,640. +[i] Genoa, in Templeman, as in Johnson likewise, is set down at 2,400. +[j] Lucca, at 286. +[k] The Russian empire, in the 29th plate of Templeman, is set down at + 3,303,485 square miles. +[l] Sardinia, in Templeman, as likewise in Johnson, 6,600. +[m] The habitable world, in Templeman, is computed, in square miles, at + 30,666,806 square miles. +[n] Asia, at 10,257,487. +[o] Africa, at 8,506,208. +[p] Europe, at 2,749,349. +[q] The British dominions, at 105,634. +[r] England, as likewise in Johnson's expression of the number, at + 49,450. +[s] Ireland, at 27,457. +[t] In the three remaining instances, which make the whole that Dr. + Johnson appears to have rendered into Latin verse, we find the + numbers exactly agreeing with those of Templeman, who makes the + square miles of the United Provinces, 9540--of the province of + Holland, 1800--and of Wales, 7011. + + +TRANSLATION OF DRYDEN'S EPIGRAM ON MILTON. + +Quos laudat vates, Graecus, Romanus, et Anglus, + Tres tria temporibus secla dedere suis. + +Sublime ingenium Graecus; Romanus habebat + Carmen grande sonans; Anglus utrumque tulit. +Nil majus natura capit: clarare priores + Quae potuere duos tertius unus habet. + + +EPILOGUE TO THE CARMEN SAECULARE OF HORACE; +PERFORMED AT FREEMASONS' HALL. + +Quae fausta Romae dixit Horatius, +Haec fausta vobis dicimus, Angliae + Opes, triumphos, et subacti + Imperium pelagi precantes. + + Such strains as, mingled with the lyre, +Could Rome with future greatness fire, +Ye sons of England, deign to hear, +Nor think our wishes less sincere. + May ye the varied blessings share +Of plenteous peace and prosp'rous war; +And o'er the globe extend your reign, +Unbounded masters of the main! + + +TRANSLATION OF A WELSH EPITAPH (IN HERBERT'S +TRAVELS) ON PRINCE MADOCK. + +Inclytus hic haeres magni requiescit Oeni, + Confessas tantum mente, manuque, patrem; +Servilem tuti cultum contempsit agelli, +Et petiit terras, per freta longa, novas. + + + + +THE HISTORY +OF +RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. + + +PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS. + +The following incomparable tale was published in 1759; and the +early familiarity with eastern manners, which Johnson derived +from his translation of father Lobo's travels into Abissinia, may +be presumed to have led him to fix his opening scene in that +country; while Rassela Christos, the general of sultan Sequed, +mentioned in that work, may have suggested the name of his +speculative prince. Rasselas was written in the evenings of a +single week, and sent to the press, in portions, with the amiable +view of defraying the funeral expenses of the author's aged +mother, and discharging her few remaining debts. The sum, +however, which he received for it, does not seem large, to those +who know its subsequent popularity. None of his works has +been more widely circulated; and the admiration, which it has +attracted, in almost every country of Europe, proves, that, with +all its depression and sadness, it does utter a voice, that meets +with an assenting answer in the hearts of all who have tried life, +and found its emptiness. Johnson's view of our lot on earth was +always gloomy, and the circumstances, under which Rasselas was +composed, were calculated to add a deepened tinge of melancholy +to its speculations on human folly, misery, or malignity. Many +of the subjects discussed, are known to have been those which +had agitated Johnson's mind. Among them is the question, +whether the departed ever revisit the places that knew them +on earth, and how far they may take an interest in the welfare +of those, over whom they watched, when here. We shall elsewhere +have to contemplate the moralist, standing on the border +of his mother's grave, and asking, with anxious agony, whether +that dark bourn, once passed, terminated for ever the cares of +maternity and love[a]. The frivolous and the proud, who think +not, or acknowledge not, that there are secrets, in both matter +and mind, of which their philosophy has not dreamed, may smile +at what they may, in their derision, term such weak and idle +inquiries. But on them, the most powerful minds that ever +illuminated this world, have fastened, with an intense curiosity; +and, owning their fears, or their ignorance, have not dared to +disavow their belief[b]. + +It is not to be denied, that Rasselas displays life, as one unvaried +series of disappointments, and leaves the mind, at its +close, in painful depression. This effect has been considered an +evil, and regarded even as similar to that produced by the doctrines +of Voltaire, Bolingbroke, and Rousseau, who combined +every thing venerable on earth with ridicule, treated virtue and +vice, with equal contemptuous indifference, and laid bare, with +cruel mockery, the vanity of all mortal wishes, prospects, and +pursuits. Their motive, for all this, we need not pause, in this +place, to examine. But a distinction may be made between the +melancholy of the heart, and the melancholy of the mind: while +the latter is sceptical, sour, and misanthropic, the former is +passionate, tender, and religious. Those who are under the influence +of the one, become inactive, morose, or heedless: detecting +the follies of the wisest and the frailties of the best, they scoff at +the very name of virtue; they spurn, as visionary and weak, every +attempt to meliorate man's condition, and from their conviction +of the earthward tendency of his mind, they bound his destinies +by this narrow world and its concerns. But those whose hearts +are penetrated with a feeling for human infirmity and sorrow, +are benevolent and active; considering man, as the victim of sin, +and woe, and death, for a cause which reason cannot unfold, but +which religion promises to terminate, they sooth the short-lived +disappointments of life, by pointing to a loftier and more lasting +state. Candide is the book of the one party, Rasselas of the +other. They appeared nearly together; they exhibit the same +picture of change, and misery, and crime. But the one demoralized +a continent, and gave birth to lust, and rapine, and +bloodshed; the other has blessed many a heart, and gladdened +the vale of sorrow, with many a rill of pure and living water. +Voltaire may be likened to the venomous toad of eastern allegory, +which extracts a deadly poison from that sunbeam which +bears health, and light, and life to all beside: the philosopher, +in Rasselas, like some holy and aged man, who has well nigh run +his course, in recounting the toils and perils of his pilgrimage, +may sadden the young heart, and crush the fond hopes of inexperience; +but, while he wounds, he presents the antidote and the +balm, and tells, where promises will be realized, and hopes will +no more be disappointed. We have ventured to detain our +readers thus long from Rasselas itself, because, from its similar +view of life with the sceptical school, many well-intentioned men +have apprehended, its effects might be the same. We have, +therefore, attempted briefly to distinguish the sources whence +these different writings have issued, and, we trust, we have +pointed out their remoteness from each other. And we do not +dwell on the subject, at greater length, because Johnson's writings, +in various parts, will require our attention on this particular head. +To be restless and weary of the dull details and incomplete enjoyments +of life, is common to all lofty minds. Frederick of +Prussia sought, in the bosom of a cold philosophy, to chill every +generous impulse, and each warm aspiration after immortality; +but he painfully felt, how inefficient was grandeur, or power, to +fill the heart, and plaintively exclaimed to Maupertuis, "Que +notre vie est peu de chose;" all is vanity. The philosophy of +Rasselas, however, though it pronounces on the unsatisfactory +nature of all human enjoyments, and though its perusal may +check the worldling in his mirth, and bring down the mighty +in his pride, does not, with the philosophic conqueror, sullenly +despair, but gently sooths the mourner, by the prospect of a final +recompense and repose. Its pages inculcate the same lesson, as +those of the Rambler, but "the precept, which is tedious in a +formal essay, may acquire attractions in a tale, and the sober +charms of truth be divested of their austerity by the graces of +innocent fiction[c]." We may observe, in conclusion, that the +abrupt termination of Rasselas, so left, according to sir John +Hawkins, by its author, to admit of continuation, and its unbroken +gloom, induced Miss E. Cornelia Knight to present to +the public a tale, entitled Dinarbas, to exhibit the fairer view of +life. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] See Idler, No. 41, and his letter to Mr. Elphinstone, on the death + of his mother. +[b] Aristot. Ethic. Nich. lib. i. c. 10, 11. In Barrow's sermon on the + "the least credulous or fanciful of men." +[c] See Drake's Speculator, 1790, No. 1. + +THE HISTORY + +OF + +RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. + + + +CHAP. I. + +DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY. + +Ye, who listen, with credulity, to the whispers of fancy, and pursue, +with eagerness, the phantoms of hope; who expect, that age will perform +the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will +be supplied by the morrow; attend to the history of Rasselas, prince of +Abissinia. + +Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty emperour, in whose dominions +the father of waters begins his course; whose bounty pours down the +streams of plenty, and scatters over half the world the harvests of +Egypt. + +According to the custom, which has descended, from age to age, among the +monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private palace, +with the other sons and daughters of Abissinian royalty, till the order +of succession should call him to the throne. + +The place, which the wisdom, or policy, of antiquity had destined for +the residence of the Abissinan princes, was a spacious valley in the +kingdom of Amhara, surrounded, on every side, by mountains, of which the +summits overhang the middle part. The only passage, by which it could be +entered, was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it has been +long disputed, whether it was the work of nature, or of human industry. +The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth, +which opened into the valley, was closed with gates of iron, forged by +the artificers of ancient days, so massy, that no man could, without the +help of engines, open or shut them. + +From the mountains, on every side, rivulets descended, that filled all +the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middle, +inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl, whom +nature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged its +superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain, +on the northern side, and fell, with dreadful noise, from precipice to +precipice, till it was heard no more. + +The sides of the mountains were covered with trees; the banks of the +brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from the +rocks; and every month dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals that +bite the grass, or browse the shrub, whether wild or tame, wandered in +this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey, by the mountains +which confined them. On one part, were flocks and herds feeding in the +pastures; on another, all the beasts of chase frisking in the lawns; the +sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking in +the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in the shade. All the +diversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of nature +were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded. + +The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with the +necessaries of life; and all delights and superfluities were added, at +the annual visit which the emperour paid his children, when the iron +gate was opened to the sound of musick; and during eight days every one, +that resided in the valley, was required to propose whatever might +contribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of +attention, and lessen the tediousness of time. Every desire was +immediately granted. All the artificers of pleasure were called to +gladden the festivity; the musicians exerted the power of harmony, and +the dancers showed their activity before the princes, in hope that they +should pass their lives in this blissful captivity, to which those only +were admitted, whose performance was thought able to add novelty to +luxury. Such was the appearance of security and delight, which this +retirement afforded, that they, to whom it was new, always desired, that +it might be perpetual; and, as those, on whom the iron gate had once +closed, were never suffered to return, the effect of long experience +could not be known. Thus every year produced new schemes of delight, and +new competitors for imprisonment. + +The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above the +surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares or courts, built +with greater or less magnificence, according to the rank of those for +whom they were designed. The roofs were turned into arches of massy +stone, joined by a cement that grew harder by time, and the building +stood, from century to century, deriding the solstitial rains and +equinoctial hurricanes, without need of reparation. + +This house, which was so large, as to be fully known to none, but some +ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of the place, +was built, as if suspicion herself had dictated the plan. To every room +there was an open and secret passage, every square had a communication +with the rest, either from the upper stories, by private galleries, or, +by subterranean passages, from the lower apartments. Many of the columns +had unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had reposited +their treasures. They then closed up the opening with marble, which was +never to be removed, but in the utmost exigencies of the kingdom; and +recorded their accumulations in a book, which was itself concealed in a +tower not entered, but by the emperour, attended by the prince, who +stood next in succession. + + + +CHAP. II. + +THE DISCONTENT OP RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY. + +Here the sons and daughters of Abissinia, lived only to know the soft +vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful +to delight, and gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy. They +wandered in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of +security. Every art was practised, to make them pleased with their own +condition. The sages, who instructed them, told them of nothing but the +miseries of publick life, and described all beyond the mountains, as +regions of calamity, where discord was always raging, and where man +preyed upon man. + +To heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were daily +entertained with songs, the subject of which was the happy valley. Their +appetites were excited, by frequent enumerations of different +enjoyments, and revelry and merriment was the business of every hour, +from the dawn of morning, to the close of even. + +These methods were, generally, successful; few of the princes had ever +wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full +conviction, that they had all within their reach that art or nature +could bestow, and pitied those, whom fate had excluded from this seat of +tranquillity, as the sport of chance, and the slaves of misery. + +Thus, they rose in the morning, and lay down at night, pleased with each +other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the twenty-sixth +year of his age, began to withdraw himself from their pastimes and +assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks, and silent meditation. He +often sat before tables, covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the +dainties that were placed before him: he rose abruptly in the midst of +the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of musick. His attendants +observed the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure: he +neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day +after day, on the banks of rivulets, sheltered with trees; where he +sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed the +fish playing in the stream, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures and +mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the herbage, +and some sleeping among the bushes. + +This singularity of his humour made him much observed. One of the sages, +in whose conversation he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, +in hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet. Rasselas, who knew not +that any one was near him, having, for some time, fixed his eyes upon +the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their +condition with his own. "What," said he, "makes the difference between +man and all the rest of the animal creation? Every beast, that strays +beside me, has the same corporal necessities with myself: he is hungry, +and crops the grass, he is thirsty and drinks the stream, his thirst and +hunger are appeased, he is satisfied and sleeps: he rises again and is +hungry, he is again fed, and is at rest. I am hungry and thirsty, like +him, but when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest; I am, like him, +pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied with fulness. The +intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; I long again to be hungry, +that I may again quicken my attention. The birds peck the berries, or +the corn, and fly away to the groves, where they sit, in seeming +happiness, on the branches, and waste their lives in tuning one unvaried +series of sounds. I, likewise, can call the lutanist and the singer, but +the sounds, that pleased me yesterday, weary me to-day, and will grow +yet more wearisome to-morrow. I can discover within me no power of +perception, which is not glutted with its proper pleasure, yet I do not +feel myself delighted. Man surely has some latent sense, for which this +place affords no gratification; or he has some desires, distinct from +sense, which must be satisfied, before he can be happy." + +After this, he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising, walked +towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and saw the animals +around him, "Ye," said he, "are happy, and need not envy me, that walk +thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envy +your felicity; for it is not the felicity of man. I have many +distresses, from which ye are free; I fear pain, when I do not feel it; +I sometimes shrink at evils recollected, and sometimes start at evils +anticipated: surely the equity of providence has balanced peculiar +sufferings with peculiar enjoyments." + +With observations like these, the prince amused himself, as he returned, +uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look, that discovered +him to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and to receive +some solace of the miseries of life, from consciousness of the delicacy +with which he felt, and the eloquence with which he bewailed them. He +mingled, cheerfully, in the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced +to find, that his heart was lightened. + + + +CHAP. III. + +THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING. + +On the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made +himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it by +counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which the +prince, having long considered him, as one whose intellects were +exhausted, was not very willing to afford: "Why," said he, "does this +man thus obtrude upon me? shall I be never suffered to forget those +lectures, which pleased, only while they were new, and to become new +again, must be forgotten?" He then walked into the wood, and composed +himself to his usual meditations, when, before his thoughts had taken +any settled form, he perceived his pursuer at his side, and was, at +first, prompted, by his impatience, to go hastily away; but, being +unwilling to offend a man, whom he had once reverenced, and still loved, +he invited him to sit down with him on the bank. + +The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change, which had been +lately observed in the prince, and to inquire, why he so often retired +from the pleasures of the palace, to loneliness and silence. "I fly from +pleasure," said the prince, "because pleasure has ceased to please; I am +lonely, because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud, with my +presence, the happiness of others." + +"You, sir," said the sage, "are the first who has complained of misery +in the happy valley. I hope to convince you, that your complaints have +no real cause. You are here in full possession of all that the emperour +of Abissinia can bestow; here is neither labour to be endured, nor +danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger can procure +or purchase. Look round, and tell me which of your wants is without +supply: if you want nothing, how are you unhappy?" + +"That I want nothing," said the prince, "or that I know not what I want, +is the cause of my complaint; if I had any known want, I should have a +certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I should not then +repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the western mountain, or +lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from +myself. When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another, I fancy, +that. I should be happy, if I had something to pursue. But, possessing +all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, +except that the latter is still more tedious than the former. Let your +experience inform me, how the day may now seem as short as in my +childhood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I +never had observed before. I have already enjoyed too much; give me +something to desire." + +The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew +not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. "Sir," said he, "if +you had seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to value your +present state." "Now," said the prince, "you have given me something to +desire; I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight +of them is necessary to happiness." + + + +CHAP. IV. + +THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE. + +At this time the sound of musick proclaimed the hour of repast, and the +conversation was concluded. The old man went away, sufficiently +discontented, to find that his reasonings had produced the only +conclusion which they were intended to prevent. But, in the decline of +life, shame and grief are of short duration; whether it be, that we bear +easily what we have borne long, or that, finding ourselves in age less +regarded, we less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon +afflictions, to which we know that the hand of death is about to put an +end. + +The prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not +speedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the length +of life which nature promised him, because he considered, that in a long +time much must be endured; he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many +years much might be done. + +This first beam of hope, that had been ever darted into his mind, +rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled the lustre of his eyes. He +was fired with the desire of doing something, though he knew not yet, +with distinctness, either end or means. + +He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but, considering himself as +master of a secret stock of happiness, which he could enjoy only by +concealing it, he affected to be busy in all schemes of diversion, and +endeavoured to make others pleased with the state, of which he himself +was weary. But pleasures never can be so multiplied or continued, as not +to leave much of life unemployed; there were many hours, both of the +night and day, which he could spend, without suspicion, in solitary +thought. The load of life was much lightened: he went eagerly into the +assemblies, because he supposed the frequency of his presence necessary +to the success of his purposes; he retired gladly to privacy, because he +had now a subject of thought. + +His chief amusement was to picture to himself that world which he had +never seen; to place himself in various conditions; to be entangled in +imaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures: but his +benevolence always terminated his projects in the relief of distress, +the detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of +happiness. + +Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied himself so +intensely in visionary bustle, that he forgot his real solitude, and, +amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents of human affairs, +neglected to consider, by what means he should mingle with mankind. + +One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphan +virgin, robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and crying +after him, for restitution and redress. So strongly was the image +impressed upon his mind, that he started up in the maid's defence, and +ran forward to seize the plunderer, with all the eagerness of real +pursuit. Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt: Rasselas could not +catch the fugitive with his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary, by +perseverance, him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on till +the foot of the mountain stopped his course. + +Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless impetuosity. +Then, raising his eyes to the mountain, "This," said he, "is the fatal +obstacle that hinders, at once, the enjoyment of pleasure, and the +exercise of virtue. How long is it that my hopes and wishes have flown +beyond this boundary of my life, which, yet, I never have attempted to +surmount!" + +Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse; and remembered, that, +since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the sun had +passed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a degree of +regret, with which he had never been before acquainted. He considered, +how much might have been done in the time which had passed, and left +nothing real behind it. He compared twenty months with the life of man. +"In life," said he, "is not to be counted the ignorance of infancy, or +imbecility of age. We are long, before we are able to think, and we soon +cease from the power of acting. The true period of human existence may +be reasonably estimated at forty years, of which I have mused away the +four and twentieth part. What I have lost was certain, for I have +certainly possessed it; but of twenty months to come, who can assure +me?" + +The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he was long +before he could be reconciled to himself. "The rest of my time," said +he, "has been lost, by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the +absurd institutions of my country; I remember it with disgust, yet +without remorse: but the months that have passed, since new light darted +into my soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable felicity, have been +squandered by my own fault. I have lost that which can never be +restored: I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty months, an idle +gazer on the light of heaven: in this time, the birds have left the nest +of their mother, and committed themselves to the woods and to the skies: +the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned, by degrees, to climb the +rocks, in quest of independent sustenance. I only have made no advances, +but am still helpless and ignorant. The moon, by more than twenty +changes, admonished me of the flux of life; the stream, that rolled +before my feet, upbraided my inactivity. I sat feasting on intellectual +luxury, regardless alike of the examples of the earth, and the +instructions of the planets. Twenty months are passed; who shall restore +them?" + +These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed four +months, in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was +awakened to more vigorous exertion, by hearing a maid, who had broken a +porcelain cup, remark, that what cannot be repaired is not to be +regretted. + +This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself, that he had not +discovered it, having not known, or not considered, how many useful +hints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by her own +ardour to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open before her. +He, for a few hours, regretted his regret, and from that time bent his +whole mind upon the means of escaping from the valley of happiness. + + + +CHAP. V. + +THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE. + +He now found, that it would be very difficult to effect that which it +was very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about him, he +saw himself confined by the bars of nature, which had never yet been +broken, and by the gate, through which none, that once had passed it, +were ever able to return. He was now impatient as an eagle in a grate. +He passed week after week in clambering the mountains, to see if there +was any aperture which the bushes might conceal, but found all the +summits inaccessible by their prominence. The iron gate he despaired to +open; for it was not only secured with all the power of art, but was +always watched by successive sentinels, and was, by its position, +exposed to the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants. + +He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake were +discharged; and, looking down, at a time when the sun shone strongly +upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks, which, +though they permitted the stream to flow through many narrow passages, +would stop any body of solid bulk. He returned discouraged and dejected; +but, having now known the blessing of hope, resolved never to despair. + +In these fruitless searches he spent ten months. The time, however, +passed cheerfully away: in the morning he rose with new hope, in the +evening applauded his own diligence, and in the night slept sound after +his fatigue. He met a thousand amusements, which beguiled his labour, +and diversified his thoughts. He discerned the various instincts of +animals, and properties of plants, and found the place replete with +wonders, of which he purposed to solace himself with the contemplation, +if he should never be able to accomplish his flight; rejoicing that his +endeavours, though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source of +inexhaustible inquiry. + +But his original curiosity was not yet abated; he resolved to obtain +some knowledge of the ways of men. His wish still continued, but his +hope grew less. He ceased to survey any longer the walls of his prison, +and spared to search, by new toils, for interstices which he knew could +not be found; yet determined to keep his design always in view, and lay +hold on any expedient that time should offer. + + + +CHAP. VI. + +A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING. + +Among the artists that had been allured into the happy valley, to labour +for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a man eminent +for his knowledge of the mechanick powers, who had contrived many +engines, both of use and recreation. By a wheel, which the stream +turned, he forced the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to +all the apartments of the palace. He erected a pavilion in the garden, +around which he kept the air always cool by artificial showers. One of +the groves, appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to which +the rivulet, that ran through it, gave a constant motion; and +instruments of soft musick were placed at proper distances, of which +some played by the impulse of the wind, and some by the power of the +stream. + +This artist was, sometimes, visited by Rasselas, who was pleased with +every kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come, when all +his acquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He came one +day to amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the master busy in +building a sailing chariot: he saw that the design was practicable upon +a level surface, and, with expressions of great esteem, solicited its +completion. The workman was pleased to find himself so much regarded by +the prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honours. "Sir," said he, +"you have seen but a small part of what the mechanick sciences can +perform. I have been long of opinion, that instead of the tardy +conveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration of +wings; that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and that only +ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground." + +This hint rekindled the prince's desire of passing the mountains: having +seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was willing to fancy +that he could do more; yet resolved to inquire further, before he +suffered hope to afflict him by disappointment. "I am afraid," said he +to the artist, "that your imagination prevails over your skill, and that +you now tell me rather what you wish, than what you know. Every animal +has his element assigned him: the birds have the air, and man and beasts +the earth."--"So," replied the mechanist, "fishes have the water, in +which, yet, beasts can swim by nature, and men by art. He that can swim +needs not despair to fly: to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to +fly is to swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of +resistance to the different density of matter through which we are to +pass. You will be, necessarily, upborne by the air, if you can renew any +impulse upon it, faster than the air can recede from the pressure." + +"But the exercise of swimming," said the prince, "is very laborious; the +strongest limbs are soon wearied; I am afraid, the act of flying will be +yet more violent, and wings will be of no great use, unless we can fly +further than we can swim." + +"The labour of rising from the ground," said the artist, "will be great, +as we see it in the heavier domestick fowls; but as we mount higher, the +earth's attraction, and the body's gravity, will be gradually +diminished, till we shall arrive at a region, where the man will float +in the air without any tendency to fall; no care will then be necessary +but to move forwards, which the gentlest impulse will effect. You, sir, +whose curiosity is so extensive, will easily conceive with what pleasure +a philosopher, furnished with wings, and hovering in the sky, would see +the earth, and all its inhabitants, rolling beneath him, and presenting +to him, successively, by its diurnal motion, all the countries within +the same parallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the +moving scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts! To survey, with +equal security, the marts of trade, and the fields of battle; mountains +infested by barbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by plenty, and +lulled by peace! How easily shall we then trace the Nile through all its +passage; pass over to distant regions, and examine the face of nature, +from one extremity of the earth to the other!" + +"All this," said the prince, "is much to be desired; but I am afraid, +that no man will be able to breathe in these regions of speculation and +tranquillity. I have been told, that respiration is difficult upon lofty +mountains, yet, from these precipices, though so high as to produce +great tenuity of air, it is very easy to fall; therefore, I suspect, +that from any height, where life can be supported, there may be danger +of too quick descent." + +"Nothing," replied the artist, "will ever be attempted, if all possible +objections must be first overcome. If you will favour my project, I will +try the first flight at my own hazard. I have considered the structure +of all volant animals, and find the folding continuity of the bat's +wings most easily accommodated to the human form. Upon this model, I +shall begin my task tomorrow, and in a year, expect to tower into the +air beyond the malice and pursuit of man. But I will work only on this +condition, that the art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not +require me to make wings for any but ourselves." + +"Why," said Rasselas, "should you envy others so great an advantage? All +skill ought to be exerted for universal good; every man has owed much to +others, and ought to repay the kindness that he has received." + +"If men were all virtuous," returned the artist, "I should, with great +alacrity, teach them all to fly. But what would be the security of the +good, if the bad could, at pleasure, invade them from the sky? Against +an army sailing through the clouds, neither walls, nor mountains, nor +seas, could afford any security. A flight of northern savages might +hover in the wind, and light, at once, with irresistible violence, upon +the capital of a fruitful region, that was rolling under them. Even this +valley, the retreat of princes, the abode of happiness, might be +violated by the sudden descent of some of the naked nations, that swarm +on the coast of the southern sea." + +The prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, not wholly +hopeless of success. He visited the work, from time to time, observed +its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances, to facilitate +motion, and unite levity with strength. The artist was every day more +certain, that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and the +contagion of his confidence seized upon the prince. + +In a year the wings were finished, and, on a morning appointed, the +maker appeared, furnished for flight, on a little promontory: he waved +his pinions awhile, to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and, in +an instant, dropped into the lake. His wings, which were of no use in +the air, sustained him in the water, and the prince drew him to land, +half dead with terrour and vexation.[a] + +[a] See Rambler, No. 199, and note. + +CHAP. VII. + +THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING. + +The prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having suffered +himself to hope for a happier event, only because he had no other means +of escape in view. He still persisted in his design to leave the happy +valley by the first opportunity. + +His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of entering into +the world; and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to support himself, +discontent, by degrees, preyed upon him, and he began again to lose his +thoughts in sadness, when the rainy season, which, in these countries, +is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods. + +The rain continued longer, and with more violence, than had been ever +known: the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the torrents +streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow to +discharge the water. The lake overflowed its banks, and all the level of +the valley was covered with the inundation. The eminence, on which the +palace was built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that +the eye could now discover. The herds and flocks left the pastures, and +both the wild beasts and the tame retreated to the mountains. + +This inundation confined all the princes to domestick amusements, and +the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem, which Imlac +rehearsed, upon the various conditions of humanity. He commanded the +poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his verses a second +time; then entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in +having found a man who knew the world so well, and could so skilfully +paint the scenes of life. He asked a thousand questions about things, to +which, though common to all other mortals, his confinement, from +childhood, had kept him a stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance, and +loved his curiosity, and entertained him, from day to day, with novelty +and instruction, so that the prince regretted the necessity of sleep, +and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure. + +As they were sitting together, the prince commanded Imlac to relate his +history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what motive +induced, to close his life in the happy valley. As he was going to begin +his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and obliged to restrain +his curiosity till the evening. + +CHAP. VIII. + +THE HISTORY OF IMLAC. + +The close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the only +season of diversion and entertainment, and it was, therefore, midnight +before the musick ceased, and the princesses retired. Rasselas then +called for his companion, and required him to begin the story of his +life. + +"Sir," said Imlac, "my history will not be long; the life, that is +devoted to knowledge, passes silently away, and is very little +diversified by events. To talk in publick, to think in solitude, to read +and hear, to inquire, and answer inquiries, is the business of a +scholar. He wanders about the world without pomp or terrour, and is +neither known nor valued but by men like himself. + +"I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from the +fountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who traded +between the inland countries of Africk and the ports of the Red sea. He +was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments, and narrow +comprehension; he desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches, +lest he should be spoiled by the governours of the province." + +"Surely," said the prince, "my father must be negligent of his charge, +if any man, in his dominions, dares take that which belongs to another. +Does he not know, that kings are accountable for injustice permitted, as +well as done? If I were emperour, not the meanest of my subjects should +be oppressed with impunity. My blood boils, when I am told that a +merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains, for fear of losing them by +the rapacity of power. Name the governour, who robbed the people, that I +may declare his crimes to the emperour." + +"Sir," said Imlac, "your ardour is the natural effect of virtue animated +by youth: the time will come, when you will acquit your father, and, +perhaps, hear with less impatience of the governour. Oppression is, in +the Abissinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated; but no form of +government has been yet discovered, by which cruelty can be wholly +prevented. Subordination supposes power on one part, and subjection on +the other; and if power be in the hands of men, it will, sometimes, be +abused. The vigilance of the supreme magistrate may do much, but much +will still remain undone. He can never know all the crimes that are +committed, and can seldom punish all that he knows." + +"This," said the prince, "I do not understand, but I had rather hear +thee than dispute. Continue thy narration." + +"My father," proceeded Imlac, "originally intended that I should have no +other education, than such as might qualify me for commerce; and, +discovering in me great strength of memory, and quickness of +apprehension, often declared his hope, that I should be, some time, the +richest man in Abissinia." + +"Why," said the prince, "did thy father desire the increase of his +wealth, when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy? I +am unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot both be +true." + +"Inconsistencies," answered Imlac, "cannot both be right, but, imputed +to man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is not inconsistency. My +father might expect a time of greater security. However, some desire is +necessary to keep life in motion, and he, whose real wants are supplied, +must admit those of fancy." + +"This," said the prince, "I can, in some measure, conceive. I repent +that I interrupted thee." + +"With this hope," proceeded Imlac, "he sent me to school; but when I had +once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure of +intelligence and the pride of invention, I began, silently, to despise +riches, and determined to disappoint the purpose of my father, whose +grossness of conception raised my pity. I was twenty years old before +his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel, in which time I +had been instructed, by successive masters, in all the literature of my +native country. As every hour taught me something new, I lived in a +continual course of gratifications; but, as I advanced towards manhood, +I lost much of the reverence with which I had been used to look on my +instructers; because, when the lesson was ended, I did not find them +wiser or better than common men. + +"At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce, and, opening +one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousand pieces of +gold. This, young man, said he, is the stock with which you must +negotiate. I began with less than the fifth part, and you see how +diligence and parsimony have increased it. This is your own, to waste or +to improve. If you squander it by negligence or caprice, you must wait +for my death, before you will be rich: if, in four years, you double +your stock, we will thenceforward let subordination cease, and live +together as friends and partners; for he shall always be equal with me, +who is equally skilled in the art of growing rich. + +"We laid our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap goods, and +travelled to the shore of the Red sea. When I cast my eye on the expanse +of waters, my heart bounded like that of a prisoner escaped. I felt an +unextinguishable curiosity kindle in my mind, and resolved to snatch +this opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and of learning +sciences unknown in Abissinia. + +"I remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement of my +stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by a penalty, +which I was at liberty to incur; and, therefore, determined to gratify +my predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountains of knowledge, +to quench the thirst of curiosity. + +"As I was supposed to trade without connexion with my father, it was +easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and procure +a passage to some other country. I had no motives of choice to regulate +my voyage; it was sufficient for me, that, wherever I wandered, I should +see a country, which I had not seen before. I, therefore, entered a ship +bound for Surat, having left a letter for my father, declaring my +intention. + +CHAP. IX. + +THE HISTORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED. + +"When I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight of land, +I looked round about me with pleasing terrour, and, thinking my soul +enlarged by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze round for +ever without satiety; but, in a short time, I grew weary of looking on +barren uniformity, where I could only see again what I had already seen. +I then descended into the ship, and doubted, for awhile, whether all my +future pleasures would not end like this, in disgust and disappointment. +Yet, surely, said I, the ocean and the land are very different; the only +variety of water is rest and motion, but the earth has mountains and +valleys, deserts and cities; it is inhabited by men of different customs +and contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life, though I +should miss it in nature. + +"With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself during the +voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of navigation, +which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for my +conduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been ever +placed. + +"I was almost weary of my naval amusements, when we landed safely at +Surat. I secured my money, and, purchasing some commodities for show, +joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland country. My +companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing that I was rich, and, +by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I was ignorant, considered +me as a novice, whom they had a right to cheat, and who was to learn, at +the usual expense, the art of fraud. They exposed me to the theft of +servants, and the exaction of officers, and saw me plundered, upon false +pretences, without any advantage to themselves, but that of rejoicing in +the superiority of their own knowledge." + +"Stop a moment," said the prince. "Is there such depravity in man, as +that he should injure another, without benefit to himself? I can easily +conceive, that all are pleased with superiority: but your ignorance was +merely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, could +afford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the knowledge which +they had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually have shown by +warning, as betraying you." + +"Pride," said Imlac, "is seldom delicate; it will please itself with +very mean advantages; and envy feels not its own happiness, but when it +may be compared with the misery of others. They were my enemies, because +they grieved to think me rich; and my oppressors, because they delighted +to find me weak." + +"Proceed," said the prince: "I do not doubt of the facts which you +relate, but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives." + +"In this company," said Imlac, "I arrived at Agra, the capital of +Indostan, the city in which the great mogul commonly resides. I applied +myself to the language of the country, and, in a few months, was able to +converse with the learned men; some of whom I found morose and reserved, +and others easy and communicative; some were unwilling to teach another +what they had, with difficulty, learned themselves; and some showed, +that the end of their studies was to gain the dignity of instructing. + +"To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much, that I +was presented to the emperour as a man of uncommon knowledge. The +emperour asked me many questions concerning my country and my travels; +and though I cannot now recollect any thing that he uttered above the +power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at his wisdom, and +enamoured of his goodness. + +"My credit was now so high, that the merchants, with whom I had +travelled, applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the court. +I was surprised at their confidence of solicitation, and gently +reproached them with their practices on the road. They heard me with +cold indifference, and showed no tokens of shame or sorrow. + +"They then urged their request with the offer of a bribe; but what I +would not do for kindness, I would not do for money; and refused them, +not because they had injured me, but because I would not enable them to +injure others; for I knew they would have made use of my credit to cheat +those who should buy their wares. + +"Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, I +travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence, +and observed many new accommodations of life. The Persians are a nation +eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities +of remarking characters and manners, and of tracing human nature through +all its variations. + +"From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation at once pastoral +and warlike; who live without any settled habitation; whose only wealth +is their flocks and herds; and who have yet carried on, through all +ages, an hereditary war with all mankind, though they neither covet nor +envy their possessions." + +CHAP. X. + +IMLAC'S HISTORY CONTINUED. A DISSERTATION UPON POETRY. + +"Wherever I went, I found that poetry was considered as the highest +learning, and regarded with a veneration, somewhat approaching to that +which man would pay to the angelick nature. And yet it fills me with +wonder, that, in almost all countries, the most ancient poets are +considered as the best: whether it be that every other kind of knowledge +is an acquisition gradually attained, and poetry is a gift conferred at +once; or that the first poetry of every nation surprised them as a +novelty, and retained the credit by consent, which it received by +accident at first: or whether, as the province of poetry is to describe +nature and passion, which are always the same, the first writers took +possession of the most striking objects for description, and the most +probable occurrences for fiction, and left nothing to those that +followed them, but transcription of the same events, and new +combinations of the same images. Whatever be the reason, it is commonly +observed, that the early writers are in possession of nature, and their +followers of art: that the first excel in strength and invention, and +the latter in elegance and refinement. + +"I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraternity. I read +all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat, by memory, +the volumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca. But I soon found, +that no man was ever great by imitation. My desire of excellence +impelled me to transfer my attention to nature and to life. Nature was +to be my subject, and men to be my auditors: I could never describe what +I had not seen; I could not hope to move those with delight or terrour, +whose interest and opinions I did not understand. + +"Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw every thing with a new purpose; +my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified: no kind of knowledge was +to be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts for images and +resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of the forest and +flower of the valley. I observed, with equal care, the crags of the rock +and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I wandered along the mazes of +the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summer clouds. To +a poet, nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever is +dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination: he must be conversant +with all that is awfully vast, or elegantly little. The plants of the +garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors +of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible +variety; for every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of +moral or religious truth; and he, who knows most, will have most power +of diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remote +allusions and unexpected instruction. + +"All the appearances of nature I was, therefore, careful to study, and +every country, which I have surveyed, has contributed something to my +poetical powers." + +"In so wide a survey," said the prince, "you must surely have left much +unobserved. I have lived till now, within the circuit of these +mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of something, +which I had never beheld before, or never heeded." + +"The business of a poet," said Imlac, "is to examine, not the +individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large +appearances: he does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe +the different shades in the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit, in +his portraits of nature, such prominent and striking features, as recall +the original to every mind; and must neglect the minuter +discriminations, which one may have remarked, and another have +neglected, for those characteristicks which are alike obvious to +vigilance and carelessness. + +"But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet; he must be +acquainted, likewise, with all the modes of life. His character +requires, that he estimate the happiness and misery of every condition; +observe the power of all the passions in all their combinations, and +trace the changes of the human mind, as they are modified by various +institutions, and accidental influences of climate or custom, from the +sprightliness of infancy to the despondence of decrepitude. He must +divest himself of the prejudices of his age or country; he must consider +right and wrong in their abstracted and invariable state; he must +disregard present laws and opinions, and rise to general and +transcendental truths, which will always be the same; he must, +therefore, content himself with the slow progress of his name; contemn +the applause of his own time, and commit his claims to the justice of +posterity. He must write, as the interpreter of nature, and the +legislator of mankind, and consider himself, as presiding over the +thoughts and manners of future generations; as a being superiour to time +and place. + +"His labour is not yet at an end: he must know many languages and many +sciences; and, that his style may be worthy of his thoughts, must, by +incessant practice, familiarize to himself every delicacy of speech and +grace of harmony." + +CHAP. XI. + +IMLAC'S NARRATIVE CONTINUED. A HINT ON PILGRIMAGE. + +Imlac now felt the enthusiastick fit, and was proceeding to aggrandize +his own profession, when the prince cried out: "Enough! thou hast +convinced me, that no human being can ever be a poet. Proceed with thy +narration." + +"To be a poet," said Imlac, "is, indeed, very difficult." "So +difficult," returned the prince, "that I will, at present, hear no more +of his labours. Tell me whither you went, when you had seen Persia." + +"From Persia," said the poet, "I travelled through Syria, and for three +years resided in Palestine, where I conversed with great numbers of the +northern and western nations of Europe; the nations which are now in +possession of all power and all knowledge; whose armies are +irresistible, and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the globe. +When I compared these men with the natives of our own kingdom, and those +that surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings. In their +countries it is difficult to wish for any thing that may not be +obtained: a thousand arts, of which we never heard, are continually +labouring for their convenience and pleasure; and whatever their own +climate has denied them is supplied by their commerce." + +"By what means," said the prince, "are the Europeans thus powerful, or +why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa, for trade or +conquest, cannot the Asiaticks and Africans invade their coasts, plant +colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes? The +same wind that carries them back would bring us thither." + +"They are more powerful, sir, than we," answered Imlac, "because they +are wiser; knowledge will always predominate over ignorance, as man +governs the other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours, I +know not what reason can be given, but the unsearchable will of the +supreme being." + +"When," said the prince, with a sigh, "shall I be able to visit +Palestine, and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations? Till that +happy moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such +representations as thou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the motive +that assembles such numbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as +the centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best and wisest men of +every land must be continually resorting." + +"There are some nations," said Imlac, "that send few visitants to +Palestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe concur to +censure pilgrimage, as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous." + +"You know," said the prince, "how little my life has made me acquainted +with diversity of opinions; it will be too long to hear the arguments on +both sides; you, that have considered them, tell me the result." + +"Pilgrimage," said Imlac, "like many other acts of piety, may be +reasonable or superstitious, according to the principles upon which it +is performed. Long journeys, in search of truth, are not commanded. +Truth, such as is necessary to the regulation of life, is always found +where it is honestly sought. Change of place is no natural cause of the +increase of piety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of mind. Yet, +since men go every day to view the fields where great actions have been +performed, and return with stronger impressions of the event, curiosity +of the same kind may naturally dispose us to view that country whence +our religion had its beginning; and, I believe, no man surveys those +awful scenes without some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the +supreme being may be more easily propitiated in one place than in +another, is the dream of idle superstition; but that some places may +operate upon our own minds in an uncommon manner, is an opinion which +hourly experience will justify[a]. He who supposes that his vices may be +more successfully combated in Palestine, will, perhaps, find himself +mistaken, yet he may go thither without folly; he who thinks they will +be more freely pardoned, dishonours, at once, his reason and religion." + +"These," said the prince, "are European distinctions. I will consider +them another time. What have you found to be the effect of knowledge? +Are those nations happier than we?" + +"There is so much infelicity," said the poet, "in the world, that scarce +any man has leisure, from his own distresses, to estimate the +comparative happiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means +of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind +feels of increasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which +nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity, in which the soul sits +motionless and torpid, for want of attraction; and, without knowing why, +we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we forget. I am, +therefore, inclined to conclude, that, if nothing counteracts the +natural consequence of learning, we grow more happy, as our minds take a +wider range. + +"In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many +advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseases, +with which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies of weather, +which they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of many +laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There is such +communication between distant places, that one friend can hardly be said +to be absent from another. Their policy removes all publick +inconveniencies: they have roads cut through their mountains, and +bridges laid upon their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of +life, their habitations are more commodious, and their possessions are +more secure." + +"They are surely happy," said the prince, "who have all these +conveniencies, of which I envy none so much as the facility with which +separated friends interchange their thoughts." + +"The Europeans," answered Imlac, "are less unhappy than we, but they are +not happy. Human life is everywhere a state, in which much is to be +endured, and little to be enjoyed." + +[a] See Idler, No. 33, and note: and read, in Dr. Clarke's travels, the +effect produced on his mind by the distant prospect of the Holy +City, and by the habitual reverence of his guides. The passage +exemplifies the sublime in narrative. See his Travels in Greece, +Egypt, and the Holy Land, part ii. sect. i. 8vo. ed. vol. iv. p. +288.--Ed. + +CHAP. XII. + +THE STORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED. + +"I am not yet willing," said the prince, "to suppose, that happiness is +so parsimoniously distributed to mortals; nor can believe but that, if I +had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every day with +pleasure. I would injure no man, and should provoke no resentment: I +would relieve every distress, and should enjoy the benedictions of +gratitude. I would choose my friends among the wise, and my wife among +the virtuous; and, therefore, should be in no danger from treachery or +unkindness. My children should, by my care, be learned and pious, and +would repay to my age what their childhood had received. What would dare +to molest him, who might call, on every side, to thousands enriched by +his bounty, or assisted by his power? And why should not life glide +quietly away in the soft reciprocation of protection and reverence? All +this may be done without the help of European refinements, which appear, +by their effects, to be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them, +and pursue our journey." + +"From Palestine," said Imlac, "I passed through many regions of Asia; in +the more civilized kingdoms, as a trader, and among the barbarians of +the mountains, as a pilgrim. At last, I began to long for my native +country, that I might repose, after my travels and fatigues, in the +places where I had spent my earliest years, and gladden my old +companions, with the recital of my adventures. Often did I figure to +myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours of dawning life, +sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my tales, and listening to +my counsels. + +"When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered every +moment as wasted, which did not bring me nearer to Abissinia. I hastened +into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detained ten months +in the contemplation of its ancient magnificence, and in inquiries after +the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo a mixture of all +nations; some brought thither by the love of knowledge, some by the hope +of gain, and many by the desire of living, after their own manner, +without observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes: +for in a city, populous as Cairo, it is possible to obtain, at the same +time, the gratifications of society, and the secrecy of solitude. + +"From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red sea, passing +along the coast, till I arrived at the port from which I had departed +twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan, and reentered my +native country. + +"I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen, and the congratulations of +my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever value he +had set upon riches, would own, with gladness and pride, a son, who was +able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation. But I was soon +convinced that my thoughts were vain. My father had been dead fourteen +years, having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to +some other provinces. Of my companions, the greater part was in the +grave; of the rest, some could, with difficulty, remember me, and some +considered me, as one corrupted by foreign manners. + +"A man, used to vicissitudes, is not easily dejected. I forgot, after a +time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself to the +nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their tables, heard my story, +and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach. I then +resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestick life, and addressed a +lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit, because my +father was a merchant. + +"Wearied, at last, with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide +myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or +caprice of others. I waited for the time, when the gate of the happy +valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear: the day +came; my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned +myself with joy to perpetual confinement." + +"Hast thou here found happiness at last?" said Rasselas. "Tell me, +without reserve; art thou content with thy condition? or, dost thou wish +to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valley +celebrate their lot, and, at the annual visit of the emperour, invite +others to partake of their felicity." + +"Great prince," said Imlac, "I shall speak the truth; I know not one of +all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered this +retreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete +with images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure. I can amuse my +solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my +memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past life. Yet all +this ends in the sorrowful consideration, that my acquirements are now +useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest, +whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either +corroded by malignant passions, or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual +vacancy." + +"What passions can infest those," said the prince, "who have no rivals? +We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and where all envy +is repressed by community of enjoyments." + +"There may be community," said Imlac, "of material possessions, but +there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen, that +one will please more than another; he that knows himself despised will +always be envious; and still more envious and malevolent, if he is +condemned to live in the presence of those who despise him. The +invitations, by which they allure others to a state which they feel to +be wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. They +are weary of themselves, and of each other, and expect to find relief in +new companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited, +and would gladly see all mankind imprisoned like themselves. + +"From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that he is +wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who are +annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawful +for me to warn them of their danger." + +"My dear Imlac," said the prince, "I will open to thee my whole heart. I +have long meditated an escape from the happy valley. I have examined +the mountains on every side, but find myself insuperably barred: teach +me the way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of my flight, +the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my sole director +in the CHOICE OF LIFE." + +"Sir," answered the poet, "your escape will be difficult, and, perhaps, +you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure to +yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea +foaming with tempests, and boiling with whirlpools; you will be +sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed +against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions +and anxieties, you will wish, a thousand times, for these seats of +quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from fear." + +"Do not seek to deter me from my purpose," said the prince: "I am +impatient to see what thou hast seen; and, since thou art thyself weary +of the valley, it is evident that thy former state was better than this. +Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am resolved to judge, +with mine own eyes, of the various conditions of men, and then to make, +deliberately, my CHOICE OF LIFE. + +"I am afraid," said Imlac, "you are hindered by stronger restraints than +my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not counsel +you to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill." + +CHAP. XIII. + +RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE. + +The prince now dismissed his favourite to rest, but the narrative of +wonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation. He revolved all +that he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the morning. + +Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whom he could +impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him in his +designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with silent +vexation. He thought that even the happy valley might be endured, with +such a companion, and that, if they could range the world together, he +should have nothing further to desire. + +In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. The prince +and Imlac then walked out together, to converse, without the notice of +the rest. The prince, whose thoughts were always on the wing, as he +passed by the gate, said, with a countenance of sorrow, "Why art thou so +strong, and why is man so weak?" + +"Man is not weak," answered his companion; "knowledge is more than +equivalent to force. The master of mechanicks laughs at strength. I can +burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other expedient must be +tried." + +As they were walking on the side of the mountain, they observed that the +conies, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken shelter +among the bushes, and formed holes behind them, tending upwards, in an +oblique line. "It has been the opinion of antiquity," said Imlac, "that +human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of animals; let us, +therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning from the cony. We +may escape, by piercing the mountain in the same direction. We will +begin, where the summit hangs over the middle part, and labour upwards, +till we shall issue up beyond the prominence." + +The eyes of the prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with joy. +The execution was easy, and the success certain. + +No time was now lost. They hastened, early in the morning, to choose a +place proper for their mine. They clambered, with great fatigue, among +crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any part that +favoured their design. The second and the third day were spent in the +same manner, and with the same frustration. But, on the fourth, they +found a small cavern, concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to +make their experiment. + +Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth, and +they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness than vigour. +They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down to pant +upon the grass. The prince, for a moment, appeared to be discouraged. +"Sir," said his companion, "practice will enable us to continue our +labour for a longer time; mark, however, how far we have advanced, and +you will find, that our toil will sometime have an end. Great works are +performed, not by strength, but perseverance: yonder palace was raised +by single stones, yet you see its height and spaciousness. He that shall +walk with vigour three hours a day, will pass, in seven years, a space +equal to the circumference of the globe." + +They returned to their work day after day, and, in a short time, found a +fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little +obstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen. "Do not disturb +your mind," said Imlac, "with other hopes or fears than reason may +suggest; if you are pleased with prognosticks of good, you will be +terrified, likewise, with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a +prey to superstition. Whatever facilitates our work is more than an +omen, it is a cause of success. This is one of those pleasing surprises +which often happen to active resolution. Many tilings, difficult to +design, prove easy to performance." + +CHAP. XIV. + +RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT. + +They had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced their toil +with the approach of liberty, when the prince, coming down to refresh +himself with air, found his sister Nekayah, standing before the mouth of +the cavity. He started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his design, +yet hopeless to conceal it. A few moments determined him to repose on +her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration without reserve. + +"Do not imagine," said the princess, "that I came hither, as a spy: I +had long observed, from my window, that you and Imlac directed your walk +every day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you had any +better reason for the preference than a cooler shade, or more fragrant +bank; nor followed you with any other design than to partake of your +conversation. Since, then, not suspicion, but fondness, has detected +you, let me not lose the advantage of my discovery. I am equally weary +of confinement with yourself, and not less desirous of knowing what is +done or suffered in the world. Permit me to fly with you from this +tasteless tranquillity, which will yet grow more loathsome when you have +left me. You may deny me to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from +following." + +The prince, who loved Nekayah, above his other sisters, had no +inclination to refuse her request, and grieved, that he had lost an +opportunity of showing his confidence by a voluntary communication. It +was, therefore, agreed, that she should leave the valley with them; and +that, in the mean time, she should watch, lest any other straggler +should, by chance or curiosity, follow them to the mountain. + +At length their labour was at an end; they saw light beyond the +prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the Nile, +yet a narrow current, wandering beneath them. + +The prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures of +travel, and, in thought, was already transported beyond his father's +dominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectation +of pleasure in the world, which he had before tried, and of which he had +been weary. + +Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could not +soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed his sister, +that the way was open, and that nothing now remained but to prepare for +their departure. + +CHAP. XV. + +THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY WONDERS. + +The prince and princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich, +whenever they came into a place of commerce, which, by Imlac's +direction, they hid in their clothes, and, on the night of the next full +moon, all left the valley. The princess was followed only by a single +favourite, who did not know whither she was going. + +They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the other +side. The princess and her maid turned their eyes towards every part, +and, seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered themselves, as +in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They stopped and trembled. +"I am almost afraid," said the princess, "to begin a journey, of which I +cannot perceive an end, and to venture into this immense plain, where I +may be approached, on every side, by men whom I never saw." The prince +felt nearly the same emotions, though he thought it more manly to +conceal them. + +Imlac smiled at their terrours, and encouraged them to proceed; but the +princess continued irresolute, till she had been, imperceptibly, drawn +forward too far to return. + +In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set milk and +fruits before them. The princess wondered, that she did not see a palace +ready for her reception, and a table spread with delicacies; but, being +faint and hungry, she drank the milk, and eat the fruits, and thought +them of a higher flavour than the produce of the valley. + +They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed to toil +or difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed, they could +not be pursued. In a few days they came into a more populous region, +where Imlac was diverted with the admiration, which his companions +expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and employments. + +Their dress was such, as might not bring upon them the suspicion of +having any thing to conceal; yet the prince, wherever he came, expected +to be obeyed; and the princess was frightened, because those that came +into her presence did not prostrate themselves before her. Imlac was +forced to observe them with great vigilance, lest they should betray +their rank by their unusual behaviour, and detained them several weeks +in the first village, to accustom them to the sight of common mortals. + +By degrees, the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they had, +for a time, laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only such +regard, as liberality and courtesy could procure. And Imlac having, by +many admonitions, prepared them to endure the tumults of a port, and the +ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to the seacoast. + +The prince and his sister, to whom every thing was new, were gratified +equally at all places, and, therefore, remained, for some months, at the +port, without any inclination to pass further. Imlac was content with +their stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised +in the world, to the hazards of a foreign country. + +At last he began to fear, lest they should be discovered, and proposed +to fix a day for their departure. They had no pretensions to judge for +themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction. He, +therefore, took passage in a ship to Suez; and, when the time came, with +great difficulty, prevailed on the princess to enter the vessel. They +had a quick and prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land to +Cairo. + +CHAP. XVI. + +THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY. + +As they approached the city, which filled the strangers with +astonishment, "This," said Imlac to the prince, "is the place where +travellers and merchants assemble from all the corners of the earth. You +will here find men of every character, and every occupation. Commerce is +here honourable: I will act as a merchant, and you shall live as +strangers, who have no other end of travel than curiosity; it will soon +be observed that we are rich; our reputation will procure us access to +all whom we shall desire to know; you will see all the conditions of +humanity, and enable yourself, at leisure, to make your CHOICE OF LIFE." + +They now entered the town, stunned by the noise, and offended by the +crowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit, but that they +wondered to see themselves pass, undistinguished, along the street, and +met, by the lowest of the people, without reverence or notice. The +princess could not, at first, bear the thought of being levelled with +the vulgar, and, for some days, continued in her chamber, where she was +served by her favourite, Pekuah, as in the palace of the valley. + +Imlac, who understood traffick, sold part of the jewels the next day, +and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence, that he was +immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth. His politeness +attracted many acquaintance, and his generosity made him courted by many +dependants. His table was crowded by men of every nation, who all +admired his knowledge, and solicited his favour. His companions, not +being able to mix in the conversation, could make no discovery of their +ignorance or surprise, and were gradually initiated in the world, as +they gained knowledge of the language. + +The prince had, by frequent lectures, been taught the use and nature of +money; but the ladies could not, for a long time, comprehend what the +merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of so +little use should be received as equivalent to the necessaries of life. + +They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to set +before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He grew +acquainted with all who had any thing uncommon in their fortune or +conduct. He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the +busy, the merchants and the men of learning. + +The prince, being now able to converse with fluency, and having learned +the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse with strangers, +began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and to enter into all +assemblies, that he might make his CHOICE OF LIFE. + +For some time, he thought choice needless, because all appeared, to him, +equally happy. Wherever he went he met gaiety and kindness, and heard +the song of joy, or the laugh of carelessness. He began to believe, that +the world overflowed with universal plenty, and that nothing was +withheld either from want or merit; that every hand showered liberality, +and every heart melted with benevolence; "and who then," says he, "will +be suffered to be wretched?" + +Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the +hope of inexperience, till one day, having sat awhile silent, "I know +not," said the prince, "what can be the reason, that I am more unhappy +than any of our friends. I see them perpetually and unalterably +cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy. I am unsatisfied +with those pleasures which I seem most to court; I live in the crowds of +jollity, not so much to enjoy company, as to shun myself, and am only +loud and merry to conceal my sadness." + +"Every man," said Imlac, "may, by examining his own mind, guess what +passes in the minds of others: when you feel that your own gaiety is +counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companions +not to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are long before we +are convinced, that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it +possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself. +In the assembly, where you passed the last night, there appeared such +sprightliness of air, and volatility of fancy, as might have suited +beings of a higher order, formed to inhabit serener regions, +inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet, believe me, prince, there was not +one who did not dread the moment, when solitude should deliver him to +the tyranny of reflection." + +"This" said the prince, "may be true of others, since it is true of me; +yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is more +happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil +in the CHOICE OF LIFE." + +"The causes of good and evil," answered Imlac, "are so various and +uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified by various +relations, and so much subject to accidents, which cannot be foreseen, +that he, who would fix his condition upon incontestable reasons of +preference, must live and die inquiring and deliberating." + +"But surely," said Rasselas, "the wise men, to whom we listen with +reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves, which they +thought most likely to make them happy." + +"Very few," said the poet, "live by choice. Every man is placed in his +present condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and with +which he did not always willingly cooperate; and, therefore, you will +rarely meet one, who does not think the lot of his neighbour better than +his own." + +"I am pleased to think," said the prince, "that my birth has given me, +at least, one advantage over others, by enabling me to determine for +myself. I have here the world before me; I will review it at leisure: +surely happiness is somewhere to be found." + +CHAP. XVII. + +THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND GAIETY. + +Rasselas rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments upon life. +"Youth," cried he, "is the time of gladness: I will join myself to the +young men, whose only business is to gratify their desires, and whose +time is all spent in a succession of enjoyments." + +To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days brought him +back, weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images; their +laughter without motive; their pleasures were gross and sensual, in +which the mind had no part; their conduct was, at once, wild and mean; +they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of power dejected, and +the eye of wisdom abashed them. + +The prince soon concluded, that he should never be happy in a course of +life, of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a reasonable +being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful only by chance. +"Happiness," said he, "must be something solid and permanent, without +fear and without uncertainty." + +But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by their +frankness and courtesy, that he could not leave them, without warning +and remonstrance. "My friends," said he "I have seriously considered our +manners and our prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own +interest. The first years of man must make provision for the last. He +that never thinks, never can be wise. Perpetual levity must end in +ignorance; and intemperance, though it may fire the spirits for an hour, +will make life short or miserable. Let us consider, that youth is of no +long duration, and that, in maturer age, when the enchantments of fancy +shall cease, and phantoms of delight dance no more about us, we shall +have no comforts but the esteem of wise men, and the means of doing +good. Let us, therefore, stop, while to stop is in our power: let us +live as men who are sometime to grow old, and to whom it will be the +most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies, and to +be reminded of their former luxuriance of health, only by the maladies +which riot has produced." + +They stared awhile, in silence, one upon another, and, at last, drove +him away by a general chorus of continued laughter. + +The consciousness that his sentiments were just, and his intentions +kind, was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horrour of +derision. But he recovered his tranquillity, and pursued his search. + +CHAP. XVIII. + +THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN. + +As he was one day walking in the street, he saw a spacious building, +which all were, by the open doors, invited to enter: he followed the +stream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which +professors read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye upon a +sage, raised above the rest, who discoursed, with great energy, on the +government of the passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful, +his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant. He showed, with great +strength of sentiment, and variety of illustration, that human nature is +degraded and debased, when the lower faculties predominate over the +higher; that when fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion of +the mind, nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government, +perturbation and confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the +intellect to rebels, and excites her children to sedition against +reason, their lawful sovereign. He compared reason to the sun, of which +the light is constant, uniform, and lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of +bright but transitory lustre, irregular in its motion, and delusive in +its direction. + +He then communicated the various precepts given, from time to time, for +the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who had +obtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave +of fear, nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed by +anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks on +calmly through the tumults, or privacies of life, as the sun pursues +alike his course through the calm or the stormy sky. + +He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or pleasure, who +looked with indifference on those modes or accidents, to which the +vulgar give the names of good and evil. He exhorted his hearers to lay +aside their prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts of malice +or misfortune, by invulnerable patience; concluding, that this state +only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every one's power. + +Rasselas listened to him, with the veneration due to the instructions of +a superiour being, and, waiting for him at the door, humbly implored the +liberty of visiting so great a master of true wisdom. The lecturer +hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse of gold into his hand, +which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder. + +"I have found," said the prince, at his return to Imlac, "a man who can +teach all that is necessary to be known; who, from the unshaken throne +of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changing beneath +him. He speaks, and attention watches his lips. He reasons, and +conviction closes his periods. This man shall be my future guide: I will +learn his doctrines, and imitate his life." + +"Be not too hasty," said Imlac, "to trust, or to admire the teachers of +morality: they discourse, like angels, but they live, like men." + +Rasselas, who could not conceive, how any man could reason so forcibly, +without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visit in a +few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned the power of +money, and made his way, by a piece of gold, to the inner apartment, +where he found the philosopher, in a room half-darkened, with his eyes +misty, and his face pale. "Sir," said he, "you are come at a time when +all human friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot be remedied, what +I have lost cannot be supplied. My daughter, my only daughter, from +whose tenderness I expected all the comforts of my age, died last night +of a fever. My views, my purposes, my hopes are at an end: I am now a +lonely being, disunited from society." + +"Sir," said the prince, "mortality is an event by which a wise man can +never be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it should, +therefore, always be expected." "Young man," answered the philosopher, +"you speak like one that has never felt the pangs of separation." "Have +you then forgot the precepts," said Rasselas, "which you so powerfully +enforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity? +Consider, that external things are naturally variable, but truth and +reason are always the same." "What comfort," said the mourner, "can +truth and reason afford me? Of what effect are they now, but to tell me, +that my daughter will not be restored?" + +The prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with +reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sound, and +the inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences. + +CHAP. XIX. + +A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE. + +He was still eager upon the same inquiry: and having heard of a hermit, +that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled the whole +country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat, +and inquire, whether that felicity, which publick life could not afford, +was to be found in solitude; and whether a man, whose age and virtue +made him venerable, could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils, or +enduring them? + +Imlac and the princess agreed to accompany him, and, after the necessary +preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay through the +fields, where shepherds tended their flocks, and the lambs were playing +upon the pasture. "This," said the poet, "is the life which has been +often celebrated for its innocence and quiet; let us pass the heat of +the day among the shepherds' tents, and know, whether all our searches +are not to terminate in pastoral simplicity." + +The proposal pleased them, and they induced the shepherds, by small +presents and familiar questions, to tell their opinion of their own +state: they were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the +good with the evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in their +narratives and descriptions, that very little could be learned from +them. But it was evident, that their hearts were cankered with +discontent; that they considered themselves, as condemned to labour for +the luxury of the rich, and looked up, with stupid malevolence, toward +those that were placed above them. + +The princess pronounced with vehemence, that she would never suffer +these envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not soon +be desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustick happiness; but could +not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures were fabulous; +and was yet in doubt, whether life had any thing that could be justly +preferred to the placid gratifications of fields and woods. She hoped, +that the time would come, when, with a few virtuous and elegant +companions, she should gather flowers, planted by her own hand, fondle +the lambs of her own ewe, and listen, without care, among brooks and +breezes, to one of her maidens reading in the shade. + +CHAP. XX. + +THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY. + +On the next day they continued their journey, till the heat compelled +them to look round for shelter. At a small distance, they saw a thick +wood, which they no sooner entered, than they perceived that they were +approaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were diligently cut away +to open walks, where the shades were darkest; the boughs of opposite +trees were artificially interwoven; seats of flowery turf were raised in +vacant spaces, and a rivulet, that wantoned along the side of a winding +path, had its banks sometimes opened into small basins, and its streams +sometimes obstructed by little mounds of stone, heaped together to +increase its murmurs. + +They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected +accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing, what, or +who, he could be, that, in those rude and unfrequented regions, had +leisure and art for such harmless luxury. + +As they advanced, they heard the sound of musick, and saw youths and +virgins dancing in the grove; and, going still further, beheld a stately +palace, built upon a hill, surrounded with woods. The laws of eastern +hospitality allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed them, like a +man liberal and wealthy. + +He was skilful enough in appearances, soon to discern that they were no +common guests, and spread his table with magnificence. The eloquence of +Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of the princess +excited his respect. When they offered to depart, he entreated their +stay, and was the next day still more unwilling to dismiss them than +before. They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up, in +time, to freedom and confidence. + +The prince now saw all the domesticks cheerful, and all the face of +nature smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that he +should find here what he was seeking; but when he was congratulating the +master upon his possessions, he answered, with a sigh: "My condition +has, indeed, the appearance of happiness, but appearances are delusive. +My prosperity puts my life in danger; the bassa of Egypt is my enemy, +incensed only by my wealth and popularity. I have been, hitherto, +protected against him by the princes of the country; but, as the favour +of the great is uncertain, I know not, how soon my defenders may be +persuaded to share the plunder with the bassa. I have sent my treasures +into a distant country, and, upon the first alarm, am prepared to follow +them. Then will my enemies riot in my mansion, and enjoy the gardens +which I have planted." + +They all joined in lamenting his danger, and deprecating his exile; and +the princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of grief and +indignation, that she retired to her apartment. They continued with +their kind inviter a few days longer, and then went forward to find the +hermit. + +CHAP. XXI. + +THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE. THE HERMIT'S HISTORY. + +They came, on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to the +hermit's cell: it was a cavern, in the side of a mountain, over-shadowed +with palm-trees; at such a distance from the cataract, that nothing more +was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composed the mind to +pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the wind +whistling among the branches. The first rude essay of nature had been so +much improved by human labour, that the cave contained several +apartments, appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodging +to travellers, whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake. + +The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the +evening. On one side lay a book, with pens and papers, on the other, +mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him +unregarded, the princess observed, that he had not the countenance of a +man that had found, or could teach the way to happiness. + +They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid, like a man not +unaccustomed to the forms of courts. "My children," said he, "if you +have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such +conveniencies, for the night, as this cavern will afford. I have all +that nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a hermit's +cell." + +They thanked him, and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and +regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before them, +though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was cheerful +without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon gained the esteem +of his guests, and the princess repented of her hasty censure. + +At last Imlac began thus: "I do not now wonder that your reputation is +so far extended; we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came hither +to implore your direction for this young man and maiden, in the CHOICE +OF LIFE." + +"To him that lives well," answered the hermit, "every form of life is +good; nor can I give any other rule for choice, than to remove from all +apparent evil." + +"He will remove most certainly from evil," said the prince, "who shall +devote himself to that solitude, which you have recommended by your +example." + +"I have, indeed, lived fifteen years in solitude," said the hermit, "but +have no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth I +professed arms, and was raised, by degrees, to the highest military +rank. I have traversed wide countries, at the head of my troops, and +seen many battles and sieges. At last, being disgusted by the preferment +of a younger officer, and feeling, that my vigour was beginning to +decay, I was resolved to close my life in peace, having found the world +full of snares, discord, and misery. I had once escaped from the pursuit +of the enemy by the shelter of this cavern, and, therefore, chose it for +my final residence. I employed artificers to form it into chambers, and +stored it with all that I was likely to want. + +"For some time after my retreat, I rejoiced, like a tempest-beaten +sailor at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden +change of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and repose. When the +pleasure of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining the +plants which grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected from +the rocks. But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome. I have +been, for some time, unsettled and distracted; my mind is disturbed with +a thousand perplexities of doubt, and vanities of imagination, which +hourly prevail upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation or +diversion. I am sometimes ashamed to think, that I could not secure +myself from vice, but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin +to suspect, that I was rather impelled by resentment, than led by +devotion, into solitude. My fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I +lament, that I have lost so much, and have gained so little. In +solitude, if I escape the example of bad men, I want, likewise, the +counsel and conversation of the good. I have been long comparing the +evils with the advantages of society, and resolve to return into the +world to-morrow. The life of a solitary man will be certainly miserable, +but not certainly devout." + +They heard his resolution with surprise, but, after a short pause, +offered to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasure, +which he had hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, on +which, as he approached it, he gazed with rapture. + +CHAP. XXII. + +THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE, LED ACCORDING TO NATURE. + +Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met, at stated +times, to unbend their minds, and compare their opinions. Their manners +were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive, and their +disputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continued, +till neither controvertist remembered, upon what question they began. +Some faults were almost general among them; every one was desirous to +dictate to the rest, and every one was pleased to hear the genius or +knowledge of another depreciated. + +In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit, +and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life, which +he had so deliberately chosen, and so laudably followed. The sentiments +of the hearers were various. Some were of opinion, that the folly of his +choice had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetual +perseverance. One of the youngest among them, with great vehemence, +pronounced him a hypocrite. Some talked of the right of society to the +labour of individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion of duty. +Others readily allowed, that there was a time, when the claims of the +publick were satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, +to review his life, and purify his heart. One, who appeared more +affected with the narrative than the rest, thought it likely, that the +hermit would, in a few years, go back to his retreat, and, perhaps, if +shame did not restrain, or death intercept him, return once more from +his retreat into the world: "For the hope of happiness," said he "is so +strongly impressed, that the longest experience is not able to efface +it. Of the present state, whatever it may be, we feel, and are forced to +confess, the misery; yet, when the same state is again at a distance, +imagination paints it as desirable. But the time will surely come, when +desire will be no longer our torment, and no man shall be wretched, but +by his own fault." + +"This," said a philosopher, who had heard him with tokens of great +impatience, "is the present condition of a wise man. The time is already +come, when none are wretched, but by their own fault. Nothing is more +idle, than to inquire after happiness, which nature has kindly placed +within our reach. The way to be happy is to live according to nature, in +obedience to that universal and unalterable law, with which every heart +is originally impressed; which is not written on it by precept, but +engraven by destiny, not instilled by education, but infused at our +nativity. He that lives according to nature will suffer nothing from the +delusions of hope, or importunities of desire; he will receive and +reject with equability of temper; and act or suffer, as the reason of +things shall alternately prescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with +subtile definitions, or intricate ratiocinations. Let them learn to be +wise by easier means; let them observe the hind of the forest, and the +linnet of the grove; let them consider the life of animals, whose +motions are regulated by instinct; they obey their guide, and are happy. +Let us, therefore, at length, cease to dispute, and learn to live; throw +away the incumbrance of precepts, which they, who utter them, with so +much pride and pomp, do not understand, and carry with us this simple +and intelligible maxim: That deviation from nature is deviation from +happiness." + +When he had spoken, he looked round him with a placid air, and enjoyed +the consciousness of his own beneficence. "Sir," said the prince, with +great modesty, "as I, like all the rest of mankind, am desirous of +felicity, my closest attention has been fixed upon your discourse: I +doubt not the truth of a position, which a man so learned has, so +confidently, advanced. Let me only know, what it is to live according to +nature." + +"When I find young men so humble and so docile," said the philosopher, +"I can deny them no information which my studies have enabled me to +afford. To live according to nature, is to act always with due regard to +the fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and +effects; to concur with the great and unchangeable scheme of universal +felicity; to cooperate with the general disposition and tendency of the +present system of things." + +The prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should +understand less, as he heard him longer. He, therefore, bowed, and was +silent, and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the rest +vanquished, rose up and departed, with the air of a man that had +cooperated with the present system. + +CHAP. XXIII. + +THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK OF OBSERVATION. + +Rasselas returned home full of reflections, doubtful how to direct his +future steps. Of the way to happiness, he found the learned and simple +equally ignorant; but, as he was yet young, he flattered himself that he +had time remaining for more experiments, and further inquiries. He +communicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but was answered +by him with new doubts, and remarks that gave him no comfort. He, +therefore, discoursed more frequently and freely with his sister, who +had yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted him to give some +reason why, though he had been, hitherto, frustrated, he might succeed +at last. + +"We have, hitherto," said she, "known but little of the world: we have +never yet been either great or mean. In our own country, though we had +royalty, we had no power; and, in this, we have not yet seen the private +recesses of domestick peace. Imlac favours not our search, lest we +should, in time, find him mistaken. We will divide the task between us: +you shall try what is to be found in the splendour of courts, and I will +range the shades of humbler life. Perhaps command and authority may be +the supreme blessings, as they afford most opportunities of doing good: +or, perhaps, what this world can give may be found in the modest +habitations of middle fortune, too low for great designs, and too high +for penury and distress." + +CHAP. XXIV. + +THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS. + +Rasselas applauded the design, and appeared, next day, with a splendid +retinue at the court of the bassa. He was soon distinguished for his +magnificence, and admitted as a prince, whose curiosity had brought him +from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers, and +frequent conversation with the bassa himself. + +He was, at first, inclined to believe, that the man must be pleased with +his own condition, whom all approached with reverence, and heard with +obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts, to a whole +kingdom. "There can be no pleasure," said he, "equal to that of feeling, +at once, the joy of thousands, all made happy by wise administration. +Yet, since by the law of subordination, this sublime delight can be in +one nation but the lot of one, it is, surely, reasonable to think, that +there is some satisfaction more popular and accessible; and that +millions can hardly be subjected to the will of a single man, only to +fill his particular breast with incommunicable content." + +These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of the +difficulty. But, as presents and civilities gained him more familiarity, +he found that almost every man, who stood high in employment, hated all +the rest, and was hated by them, and that their lives were a continual +succession of plots and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction and +treachery. Many of those, who surrounded the bassa, were sent only to +watch and report his conduct; every tongue was muttering censure, and +every eye was searching for a fault. + +At last the letters of revocation arrived, the bassa was carried in +chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more. + +"What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?" said Rasselas +to his sister: "is it without any efficacy to good? or, is the +subordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and glorious? Is +the sultan the only happy man in his dominions? or, is the sultan +himself subject to the torments of suspicion, and the dread of enemies?" + +In a short time the second bassa was deposed. The sultan, that had +advanced him, was murdered by the janizaries, and his successour had +other views, and different favourites. + +CHAP. XXV. + +THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE THAN SUCCESS. + +The princess, in the mean time, insinuated herself into many families; +for there are few doors, through which liberality, joined with good-humour, +cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were airy and +cheerful, but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the conversation +of Imlac and her brother, to be much pleased with childish levity, and +prattle, which had no meaning. She found their thoughts narrow, their +wishes low, and their merriment often artificial. Their pleasures, poor +as they were, could not be preserved pure, but were imbittered by petty +competitions, and worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the +beauty of each other; of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing, +and from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love with +triflers, like themselves, and many fancied that they were in love, +when, in truth, they were only idle. Their affection was not fixed on +sense or virtue, and, therefore, seldom ended but in vexation. Their +grief, however, like their joy, was transient; every thing floated in +their mind, unconnected with the past or future; so that one desire +easily gave way to another, as a second stone, cast into the water, +effaces and confounds the circles of the first. + +With these girls she played, as with inoffensive animals, and found them +proud of her countenance, and weary of her company. + +But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability easily +persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow, to discharge their +secrets in her ear: and those, whom hope flattered, or prosperity +delighted, often courted her to partake their pleasures. + +The princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a private +summer house, on the bank of the Nile, and related to each other the +occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together, the princess cast +her eyes upon the river that flowed before her. "Answer," said she, +"great father of waters, thou that rollest thy floods through eighty +nations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native king. Tell me, +if thou waterest, through all thy course, a single habitation from which +thou dost not hear the murmurs of complaint?" + +"You are then," said Rasselas, "not more successful in private houses, +than I have been in courts." "I have, since the last partition of our +provinces," said the princess, "enabled myself to enter familiarly into +many families, where there was the fairest show of prosperity and peace, +and know not one house that is not haunted by some fury, that destroys +their quiet. + +"I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that, there, it +could not be found. But I saw many poor, whom I had supposed to live in +affluence. Poverty has, in large cities, very different appearances; it +is often concealed in splendour, and often in extravagance. It is the +care of a very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the +rest; they support themselves by temporary expedients, and every day is +lost in contriving for the morrow. + +"This, however, was an evil, which, though frequent, I saw with less +pain, because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my bounties; +more offended with my quickness to detect their wants, than pleased with +my readiness to succour them: and others, whose exigencies compelled +them to admit my kindness, have never been able to forgive their +benefactress. Many, however, have been sincerely grateful, without the +ostentation of gratitude, or the hope of other favours." + +CHAP. XXVI. + +THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE. + +Nekayah, perceiving her brother's attention fixed, proceeded in her +narrative. + +"In families, where there is, or is not, poverty, there is commonly +discord: if a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a family, +likewise, is a little kingdom, torn with factions, and exposed to +revolutions. An unpractised observer expects the love of parents and +children to be constant and equal; but this kindness seldom continues +beyond the years of infancy; in a short time the children become rivals +to their parents. Benefits are allayed by reproaches, and gratitude +debased by envy. + +"Parents and children seldom act in concert: each child endeavours to +appropriate the esteem, or fondness of the parents; and the parents, +with yet less temptation, betray each other to their children; thus some +place their confidence in the father, and some in the mother, and, by +degrees, the house is filled with artifices and feuds. + +"The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old, are +naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and despondence, of +expectation and experience, without crime or folly on either side. The +colours of life, in youth and age, appear different, as the face of +nature, in spring and winter. And how can children credit the assertions +of parents, which their own eyes show them to be false? + +"Few parents act in such a manner, as much to enforce their maxims, by +the credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slow contrivance +and gradual progression: the youth expects to force his way by genius, +vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard to riches, and the +youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies prudence: the youth commits +himself to magnanimity and chance. The young man, who intends no ill, +believes that none is intended, and, therefore, acts with openness and +candour: but his father, having suffered the injuries of fraud, is +impelled to suspect, and, too often, allured to practise it. Age looks +with anger on the temerity of youth, and youth with contempt on the +scrupulosity of age. Thus parents and children, for the greatest part, +live on to love less and less: and, if those whom nature has thus +closely united are the torments of each other, where shall we look for +tenderness and consolation?" + +"Surely," said the prince, "you must have been unfortunate in your +choice of acquaintance: I am unwilling to believe, that the most tender +of all relations is thus impeded, in its effects, by natural necessity." + +"Domestick discord," answered she, "is not inevitably and fatally +necessary; but yet it is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a whole +family is virtuous: the good and evil cannot well agree: and the evil +can yet less agree with one another: even the virtuous fall, sometimes, +to variance, when their virtues are of different kinds, and tending to +extremes. In general, those parents have most reverence who most deserve +it: for he that lives well cannot be despised. + +"Many other evils infest private life. Some are the slaves of servants, +whom they have trusted with their affairs. Some are kept in continual +anxiety, by the caprice of rich relations, whom they cannot please, and +dare not offend. Some husbands are imperious, and some wives perverse: +and, as it is always more easy to do evil than good, though the wisdom +or virtue of one can very rarely make many happy, the folly or vice of +one may often make many miserable." + +"If such be the general effect of marriage," said the prince, "I shall, +for the future, think it dangerous to connect my interest with that of +another, lest I should be unhappy by my partner's fault." + +"I have met," said the princess, "with many who live single for that +reason; but I never found that their prudence ought to raise envy. They +dream away their time without friendship, without fondness, and are +driven to rid themselves of the day, for which they have no use, by +childish amusements, or vitious delights. They act as beings under the +constant sense of some known inferiority, that fills their minds with +rancour, and their tongues with censure. They are peevish at home, and +malevolent abroad; and, as the outlaws of human nature, make it their +business and their pleasure to disturb that society, which debars them +from its privileges. To live without feeling or exciting sympathy; to be +fortunate without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without +tasting the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude: it is +not retreat, but exclusion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, but +celibacy has no pleasures." + +"What then is to be done?" said Rasselas; "the more we inquire, the less +we can resolve. Surely he is most likely to please himself, that has no +other inclination to regard." + +CHAP. XXVII. + +DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS. + +The conversation had a short pause. The prince, having considered his +sister's observations, told her that she had surveyed life with +prejudice, and supposed misery where she did not find it. "Your +narrative," says he, "throws yet a darker gloom upon the prospects of +futurity: the predictions of Imlac were but faint sketches of the evils +painted by Nekayah. I have been lately convinced, that quiet is not the +daughter of grandeur, or of power: that her presence is not to be bought +by wealth, nor enforced by conquest. It is evident, that as any man acts +in a wider compass, he must be more exposed to opposition from enmity, +or miscarriage from chance; whoever has many to please or to govern, +must use the ministry of many agents, some of whom will be wicked, and +some ignorant; by some he will be misled, and by others betrayed. If he +gratifies one, he will offend another: those that are not favoured will +think themselves injured; and, since favours can be conferred but upon +few, the greater number will be always discontented." + +"The discontent," said the princess, "which is thus unreasonable, I +hope, that I shall always have spirit to despise, and you power to +repress." + +"Discontent," answered Rasselas, "will not always be without reason +under the most just and vigilant administration of publick affairs. +None, however attentive, can always discover that merit, which indigence +or faction may happen to obscure; and none, however powerful, can always +reward it. Yet, he that sees inferiour desert advanced above him, will +naturally impute that preference to partiality or caprice; and, indeed, +it can scarcely be hoped that any man, however magnanimous by nature, or +exalted by condition, will be able to persist, for ever, in the fixed +and inexorable justice of distribution; he will sometimes indulge his +own affections, and sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit +some to please him who can never serve him; he will discover in those +whom he loves, qualities which, in reality, they do not possess; and to +those, from whom he receives pleasure, he will, in his turn, endeavour +to give it. Thus will recommendations sometimes prevail, which were +purchased by money, or by the more destructive bribery of flattery and +servility. + +"He that has much to do will do something wrong, and, of that wrong must +suffer the consequences; and, if it were possible that he should always +act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of his conduct, the bad +will censure and obstruct him by malevolence, and the good sometimes by +mistake. + +"The highest stations cannot, therefore, hope to be the abodes of +happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from thrones and +palaces to seats of humble privacy, and placid obscurity. For what can +hinder the satisfaction, or intercept the expectations of him, whose +abilities are adequate to his employments; who sees, with his own eyes, +the whole circuit of his influence; who chooses, by his own knowledge, +all whom he trusts; and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or +fear? Surely he has nothing to do, but to love and to be loved, to be +virtuous and to be happy." + +"Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness," said +Nekayah, "this world will never afford an opportunity of deciding. But +this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not always find visible +happiness, in proportion to visible virtue. All natural, and almost all +political evils, are incident alike to the bad and good; they are +confounded in the misery of a famine, and not much distinguished in the +fury of a faction; they sink together in a tempest, and are driven +together from their country by invaders. All that virtue can afford is +quietness of conscience, a steady prospect of a happier state; this may +enable us to endure calamity with patience; but remember, that patience +must suppose pain. + +CHAP. XXVIII. + +RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION. + +"Dear princess," said Rasselas, "you fall into the common errours of +exaggeratory declamation, by producing, in a familiar disquisition, +examples of national calamities, and scenes of extensive misery, which +are found in books, rather than in the world, and which, as they are +horrid, are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils which we do +not feel, nor injure life by misrepresentations; I cannot bear that +querulous eloquence, which threatens every city with a siege, like that +of Jerusalem, that makes famine attend on every flight of locusts, and +suspends pestilence on the wing of every blast that issues from the +south. + +"On necessary and inevitable evils, which overwhelm kingdoms at once, +all disputation is vain: when they happen they must be endured. But it +is evident, that these bursts of universal distress are more dreaded +than felt; thousands, and ten thousands, flourish in youth, and wither +in age, without the knowledge of any other than domestick evils, and +share the same pleasures and vexations, whether their kings are mild or +cruel, whether the armies of their country pursue their enemies, or +retreat before them. While courts are disturbed with intestine +competitions, and ambassadours are negotiating in foreign countries, the +smith still plies his anvil, and the husbandman drives his plough +forward; the necessaries of life are required and obtained; and the +successive business of the seasons continues to make its wonted +revolutions. + +"Let us cease to consider what, perhaps, may never happen, and what, +when it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation. We will not +endeavour to modify the motions of the elements, or to fix the destiny +of kingdoms. It is our business to consider what beings, like us, may +perform; each labouring for his own happiness, by promoting, within his +circle, however narrow, the happiness of others. + +"Marriage is evidently the dictate of nature; men and women are made to +be companions of each other; and, therefore, I cannot be persuaded, but +that marriage is one of the means of happiness." + +"I know not," said the princess, "whether marriage be more than one of +the innumerable modes of human misery. When I see, and reckon, the +various forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of lasting +discord, the diversities of temper, the oppositions of opinion, the rude +collisions of contrary desire, where both are urged by violent impulses, +the obstinate contests of disagreeable virtues, where both are supported +by consciousness of good intention, I am, sometimes, disposed to think, +with the severer casuists of most nations, that marriage is rather +permitted than approved, and that none, but by the instigation of a +passion, too much indulged, entangle themselves with indissoluble +compacts." + +"You seem to forget," replied Rasselas, "that you have, even now, +represented celibacy, as less happy than marriage. Both conditions may +be bad, but they cannot both be worst. Thus it happens, when wrong +opinions are entertained, that they mutually destroy each other, and +leave the mind open to truth." + +"I did not expect," answered the princess, "to hear that imputed to +falsehood, which is the consequence only of frailty. To the mind, as to +the eye, it is difficult to compare, with exactness, objects, vast in +their extent, and various in their parts. Where we see, or conceive, the +whole at once, we readily note the discriminations, and decide the +preference: but of two systems, of which neither can be surveyed, by any +human being, in its full compass of magnitude, and multiplicity of +complication, where is the wonder, that, judging of the whole by parts, +I am alternately affected by one and the other, as either presses on my +memory or fancy? We differ from ourselves, just as we differ from each +other, when we see only part of the question, as in the multifarious +relations of politicks and morality; but when we perceive the whole at +once, as in numerical computations, all agree in one judgment, and none +ever varies his opinion." + +"Let us not add," said the prince, "to the other evils of life, the +bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each other in +subtilties of argument. We are employed in a search, of which both are +equally to enjoy the success, or suffer by the miscarriage. It is, +therefore, fit that we assist each other. You, surely, conclude too +hastily from the infelicity of marriage against its institution: will +not the misery of life prove equally, that life cannot be the gift of +heaven? The world must be peopled by marriage, or peopled without it." + +"How the world is to be peopled," returned Nekayah, "is not my care, and +needs not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation should +omit to leave successours behind them: we are not now inquiring for the +world, but for ourselves." + +CHAP. XXIX. + +THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE CONTINUED. + +"The good of the whole," says Rasselas, "is the same with the good of +all its parts. If marriage be best for mankind, it must be evidently +best for individuals, or a permanent and necessary duty must be the +cause of evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed to the convenience +of others. In the estimate, which you have made of the two states, it +appears, that the incommodities of a single life are, in a great +measure, necessary and certain, but those of the conjugal state, +accidental and avoidable. + +"I cannot forbear to flatter myself, that prudence and benevolence will +make marriage happy. The general folly of mankind is the cause of +general complaint. What can be expected, but disappointment and +repentance, from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the ardour +of desire, without judgment, without foresight, without inquiry after +conformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of judgment, or +purity of sentiment? + +"Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden, meeting by +chance, or brought together by artifice, exchange glances, reciprocate +civilities, go home, and dream of one another. Having little to divert +attention, or diversify thought, they find themselves uneasy, when they +are apart, and, therefore, conclude that they shall be happy together. +They marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness before had +concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge nature with +cruelty. + +"From those early marriages proceeds, likewise, the rivalry of parents +and children; the son is eager to enjoy the world, before the father is +willing to forsake it, and there is hardly room, at once, for two +generations. The daughter begins to bloom, before the mother can be +content to fade, and neither can forbear to wish for the absence of the +other. + +"Surely all these evils may be avoided, by that deliberation and delay, +which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the variety and +jollity of youthful pleasures, life may be well enough supported, +without the help of a partner. Longer time will increase experience, and +wider views will allow better opportunities of inquiry and selection: +one advantage, at least, will be certain; the parents will be visibly +older than their children." + +"What reason cannot collect," said Nekayah, "and what experiment has not +yet taught, can be known only from the report of others. I have been +told, that late marriages are not eminently happy. This is a question +too important to be neglected, and I have often proposed it to those, +whose accuracy of remark, and comprehensiveness of knowledge, made their +suffrages worthy of regard. They have generally determined, that it is +dangerous for a man and woman to suspend their fate upon each other, at +a time, when opinions are fixed, and habits are established; when +friendships have been contracted on both sides; when life has been +planned into method, and the mind has long enjoyed the contemplation of +its own prospects. + +"It is scarcely possible that two, travelling through the world, under +the conduct of chance, should have been both directed to the same path, +and it will not often happen, that either will quit the track which +custom has made pleasing. When the desultory levity of youth has settled +into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride, ashamed to yield, or +obstinacy, delighting to contend. And, even though mutual esteem +produces mutual desire to please, time itself, as it modifies +unchangeably the external mien, determines, likewise, the direction of +the passions, and gives an inflexible rigidity to the manners. Long +customs are not easily broken: he that attempts to change the course of +his own life, very often labours in vain; and how shall we do that for +others, which we are seldom able to do for ourselves!" + +"But, surely," interposed the prince, "you suppose the chief motive of +choice forgotten or neglected. Whenever I shall seek a wife, it shall be +my first question, whether she be willing to be led by reason." + +"Thus it is," said Nekayah, "that philosophers are deceived. There are a +thousand familiar disputes, which reason can never decide; questions +that elude investigation, and make logick ridiculous; cases where +something must be done, and where little can be said. Consider the state +of mankind, and inquire how few can be supposed to act, upon any +occasions, whether small or great, with all the reasons of action +present to their minds. Wretched would be the pair, above all names of +wretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust by reason, every morning, +all the minute detail of a domestick day. + +"Those who marry at an advanced age, will, probably, escape the +encroachments of their children; but, in diminution of this advantage, +they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless, to a +guardian's mercy; or, if that should not happen, they must, at least, go +out of the world, before they see those whom they love best, either wise +or great. + +"From their children, if they have less to fear, they have less also to +hope; and they lose, without equivalent, the joys of early love, and the +convenience of uniting with manners pliant, and minds susceptible of new +impressions, which might wear away their dissimilitudes by long +cohabitation, as soft bodies, by continual attrition, conform their +surfaces to each other. + +"I believe it will be found, that those who marry late, are best pleased +with their children, and those who marry early with their partners." + +"The union of these two affections," said Rasselas, "would produce all +that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time, when marriage might unite +them, a time neither too early for the father, nor too late for the +husband." + +"Every hour," answered the princess, "confirms my prejudice in favour of +the position, so often uttered by the mouth of Imlac: 'That nature sets +her gifts on the right hand and on the left.' Those conditions, which +flatter hope and attract desire, are so constituted, that, as we +approach one, we recede from another. There are goods so opposed, that +we cannot seize both, but, by too much prudence, may pass between them, +at too great a distance to reach either. This is often the fate of long +consideration; he does nothing, who endeavours to do more than is +allowed to humanity. Flatter not yourself with contrarieties of +pleasure. Of the blessings set before you make your choice, and be +content. No man can taste the fruits of autumn, while he is delighting +his scent with the flowers of the spring; no man can, at the same time, +fill his cup from the source and from the mouth of the Nile." + +CHAP. XXX. + +IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION. + +Here Imlac entered, and interrupted them. "Imlac," said Rasselas, "I +have been taking from the princess the dismal history of private life, +and am almost discouraged from further search." + +"It seems to me," said Imlac, "that, while you are making the choice of +life, you neglect to live. You wander about a single city, which, +however large and diversified, can now afford few novelties, and forget +that you are in a country, famous among the earliest monarchies for the +power and wisdom of its inhabitants; a country, where the sciences first +dawned that illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts cannot be +traced of civil society or domestick life. + +"The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry and +power, before which all European magnificence is confessed to fade away. +The ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern builders; and, +from the wonders which time has spared, we may conjecture, though +uncertainly, what it has destroyed." + +"My curiosity," said Rasselas, "does not very strongly lead me to survey +piles of stone, or mounds of earth; my business is with man. I came +hither not to measure fragments of temples, or trace choked aqueducts, +but to look upon the various scenes of the present world." + +"The things that are now before us," said the princess, "require +attention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or the +monuments of ancient times? with times which never can return, and +heroes, whose form of life was different, from all that the present +condition of mankind requires or allows?" + +"To know any thing," returned the poet, "we must know its effects; to +see men, we must see their works, that we may learn what reason has +dictated, or passion has incited, and find what are the most powerful +motives of action. To judge rightly of the present we must oppose it to +the past; for all judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing can +be known. The truth is, that no mind is much employed upon the present: +recollection and anticipation fill up almost all our moments. Our +passions are joy and grief, love and hatred, hope and fear. Of joy and +grief, the past is the object, and the future of hope and fear; even +love and hatred respect the past, for the cause must have been before +the effect. + +"The present state of things is the consequence of the former, and it is +natural to inquire, what were the sources of the good that we enjoy, or +the evil that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves, to neglect the +study of history is not prudent: if we are intrusted with the care of +others, it is not just. Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is criminal; +and he may properly be charged with evil, who refused to learn how he +might prevent it. + +"There is no part of history so generally useful, as that which relates +the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of reason, the +successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning and +ignorance, which are the light and darkness of thinking beings, the +extinction and resuscitation of arts, and the revolutions of the +intellectual world. If accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly +the business of princes, the useful or elegant arts are not to be +neglected; those who have kingdoms to govern, have understandings to +cultivate. + +"Example is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is formed in +war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this, contemplative life has +the advantage: great actions are seldom seen, but the labours of art are +always at hand, for those who desire to know what art has been able to +perform. + +"When the eye or the imagination is struck with an uncommon work, the +next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it was +performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation; we enlarge +our comprehension by new ideas, and, perhaps, recover some art lost to +mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our own country. At +least, we compare our own with former times, and either rejoice at our +improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good, discover our +defects." + +"I am willing," said the prince, "to see all that can deserve my +search." "And I," said the princess, "shall rejoice to learn something +of the manners of antiquity." + +"The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the most +bulky works of manual industry," said Imlac, "are the pyramids; fabricks +raised, before the time of history, and of which the earliest narratives +afford us only uncertain traditions. Of these, the greatest is still +standing, very little injured by time." + +"Let us visit them to-morrow," said Nekayah. "I have often heard of the +pyramids, and shall not rest, till I have seen them, within and without, +with my own eyes." + +CHAP. XXXI. + +THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS. + +The resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day. They laid +tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the pyramids, till +their curiosity was fully satisfied. They travelled gently, turned aside +to every thing remarkable, stopped, from time to time, and conversed +with the inhabitants, and observed the various appearances of towns +ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature. + +When they came to the great pyramid, they were astonished at the extent +of the base, and the height of the top. Imlac explained to them the +principles upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a fabrick, +intended to coextend its duration with that of the world: he showed, +that its gradual diminution gave it such stability, as defeated all the +common attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by +earthquakes themselves, the least resistible of natural violence. A +concussion that should shatter the pyramid, would threaten the +dissolution of the continent. + +They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot. +Next day they prepared to enter its interiour apartments, and, having +hired the common guides, climbed up to the first passage, when the +favourite of the princess, looking into the cavity, stepped back and +trembled. "Pekuah," said the princess, "of what art thou afraid?" "Of +the narrow entrance," answered the lady, "and of the dreadful gloom. I +dare not enter a place which must, surely, be inhabited by unquiet +souls. The original possessours of these dreadful vaults will start up +before us, and, perhaps, shut us in for ever[a]." She spoke, and threw +her arms round the neck of her mistress. + +"If all your fear be of apparitions," said the prince, "I will promise +you safety: there is no danger from the dead; he that is once buried +will be seen no more." + +"That the dead are seen no more," said Imlac, "I will not undertake to +maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages, and +of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whom +apparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion, +which perhaps, prevails, as far as human nature is diffused, could +become universal only by its truth: those that never heard of one +another, would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience +can make credible. That it is doubted by single cavillers, can very +little weaken the general evidence; and some, who deny it with their +tongues, confess it by their fears".[b] + +"Yet I do not mean to add new terrours to those which have already +seized upon Pekuah. There can be no reason, why spectres should haunt +the pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power or +will to hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no violation of their +privileges; we can take nothing from them, how then can we offend them?" + +"My dear Pekuah," said the princess, "I will always go before you, and +Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of the +princess of Abissinia." + +"If the princess is pleased that her servant should die," returned the +lady, "let her command some death less dreadful than enclosure in this +horrid cavern. You know, I dare not disobey you: I must go, if you +command me; but, if I once enter, I never shall come back." + +The princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation or +reproof, and, embracing her, told her, that she should stay in the tent, +till their return. Pekuah was yet not satisfied, but entreated the +princess not to pursue so dreadful a purpose, as that of entering the +rececess of the pyramid. "Though I cannot teach courage," said Nekayah, +"I must not learn cowardice; nor leave, at last, undone what I came +hither only to do." + +[a] It may not be unacceptable to our readers, to quote, in this place, +a stanza, from an Ode to Horror in the Student, ii. 313. It alludes +to the story of a French gentleman, who, going into the catacombs, +not far from Cairo, with some Arab guides, was there robbed by them, +and left; a huge stone being placed over the entrance. + + What felt the Gallic, traveller, + When far in Arab desert, drear, + He found within the catacomb, + Alive, the terrors of a tomb? + While many a mummy, through the shade, + In hieroglyphic stole arrayed, + Seem'd to uprear the mystic head, + And trace the gloom with ghostly tread; + Thou heard'st him pour the stifled groan, + Horror! his soul was all thy own! ED. + +[b] See Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions. It is to be regretted, that + Coleridge has never yet gratified the wish he professed to feel, in + the first volume of his Friend, p. 246, to devote an entire work to + the subject of dreams, visions, ghosts, witchcraft, &c; in it we + should have had the satisfaction of tracing the workings of a most + vivid imagination, analyzed by the most discriminating judgment. See + Barrow's sermon on the being of God, proved from supernatural + effects. We need scarcely request the reader to bear in mind, that + Barrow was a mathematician, and one of the most severe of + reasoners.--ED. + +CHAP. XXXII. + +THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID. + +Pekuah descended to the tents, and the rest entered the pyramid: they +passed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, and +examined the chest, in which the body of the founder is supposed to have +been reposited. They then sat down in one of the most spacious chambers, +to rest awhile before they attempted to return. + +"We have now," said Imlac, "gratified our minds with an exact view of +the greatest work of man, except the wall of China. + +"Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive. It secured a wealthy +and timorous nation from the incursions of barbarians, whose +unskilfulness in arts made it easier for them to supply their wants by +rapine than by industry, and who, from time to time, poured in upon the +habitations of peaceful commerce, as vultures descend upon domestick +fowl. Their celerity and fierceness, made the wall necessary, and their +ignorance made it efficacious. + +"But, for the pyramids, no reason has ever been given adequate to the +cost and labour of the work. The narrowness of the chambers proves that +it could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures might have been +reposited, at far less expense, with equal security. It seems to have +been erected only in compliance with that hunger of imagination, which +preys incessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by some +employment. Those who have already all that they can enjoy, must enlarge +their desires. He that has built for use, till use is supplied, must +begin to build for vanity, and extend his plan to the utmost power of +human performance, that he may not be soon reduced to form another wish. + +"I consider this mighty structure, as a monument of the insufficiency of +human enjoyments. A king, whose power is unlimited, and whose treasures +surmount all real and imaginary wants, is compelled to solace, by the +erection of a pyramid, the satiety of dominion and tastelessness of +pleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life, by seeing +thousands labouring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid +upon another. Whoever thou art, that, not content with a moderate +condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that +command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty, with perpetual +gratifications, survey the pyramids, and confess thy folly!" + +CHAP. XXXIII. + +THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. + +They rose up, and returned through the cavity, at which they had +entered, and the princess prepared for her favourite a long narrative of +dark labyrinths, and costly rooms, and of the different impressions, +which the varieties of the way had made upon her. But, when they came to +their train, they found every one silent and dejected: the men +discovered shame and fear in their countenances, and the women were +weeping in the tents. + +What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediately +inquired. "You had scarcely entered into the pyramid," said one of the +attendants, "when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us; we were too few to +resist them, and too slow to escape. They were about to search the +tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when the +approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight; but they seized +the lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them away: the Turks are +now pursuing them by our instigation, but, I fear, they will not be able +to overtake them." + +The princess was overpowered with surprise and grief. Rasselas, in the +first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants to follow him, and +prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand. "Sir," said +Imlac, "what can you hope from violence or valour? the Arabs are mounted +on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have only beasts of burden. +By leaving our present station we may lose the princess, but cannot hope +to regain Pekuah." + +In a short time, the Turks returned, having not been able to reach the +enemy. The princess burst out into new lamentations, and Rasselas could +scarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice; but Imlac was of +opinion, that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their +misfortune, for, perhaps, they would have killed their captives, rather +than have resigned them. + +CHAP. XXXIV. + +THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH. + +There was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned to Cairo, +repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of the +government, lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected to procure +a guard, imagining many expedients, by which the loss of Pekuah might +have been prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery, +though none could find any thing proper to be done. + +Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to comfort +her, by telling her, that all had their troubles, and that lady Pekuah +had enjoyed much happiness in the world, for a long time, and might +reasonably expect a change of fortune. They hoped, that some good would +befall her, wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would find +another friend, who might supply her place. + +The princess made them no answer, and they continued the form of +condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was +lost. + +Next day the prince presented, to the bassa, a memorial of the wrong +which he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The bassa threatened +to punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch them, nor, indeed, +could any account or description be given, by which he might direct the +pursuit. + +It soon appeared, that nothing would be done by authority. Governours, +being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can punish, and more +wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate +negligence, and presently forget the request, when they lose sight of +the petitioner. + +Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private agents. He +found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts of the +Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and who readily +undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Of these, some were furnished with +money for their journey, and came back no more; some were liberally paid +for accounts which a few days discovered to be false. But the princess +would not suffer any means, however improbable, to be left untried. +While she was doing something, she kept her hope alive. As one expedient +failed, another was suggested; when one messenger returned unsuccessful, +another was despatched to a different quarter. + +Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard; the +hopes, which they had endeavoured to raise in each other, grew more +languid, and the princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunk +down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand times she reproached +herself with the easy compliance, by which she permitted her favourite +to stay behind her. "Had not my fondness," said she, "lessened my +authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrours. She ought to +have feared me more than spectres. A severe look would have overpowered +her; a peremptory command would have compelled obedience. Why did +foolish indulgence prevail upon me? Why did I not speak, and refuse to +hear?" + +"Great princess," said Imlac, "do not reproach yourself for your virtue, +or consider that as blamable by which evil has accidentally been caused. +Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous and kind. When +we act according to our duty, we commit the event to him, by whose laws +our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to be finally +punished for obedience. When, in prospect of some good, whether natural +or moral, we break the rules prescribed us, we withdraw from the +direction of superiour wisdom, and take all consequences upon ourselves. +Man cannot so far know the connexion of causes and events, as that he +may venture to do wrong, in order to do right. When we pursue our end by +lawful means, we may always console our miscarriage by the hope of +future recompense. When we consult only our own policy, and attempt to +find a nearer way to good, by overleaping the settled boundaries of +right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success, because we cannot +escape the consciousness of our fault; but, if we miscarry, the +disappointment is irremediably imbittered. How comfortless is the sorrow +of him, who feels, at once, the pangs of guilt, and the vexation of +calamity, which guilt has brought upon him? + +"Consider, princess, what would have been your condition, if the lady +Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to stay in +the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have borne the +thought, if you had forced her into the pyramid, and she had died before +you in agonies of terrour?" + +"Had either happened," said Nekayah, "I could not have endured life till +now: I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance of such +cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself." + +"This, at least," said Imlac, "is the present reward of virtuous +conduct, that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it." + +CHAP. XXXV. + +THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH. + +Nekayah, being thus reconciled to herself, found, that no evil is +insupportable, but that which is accompanied with consciousness of +wrong. She was, from that time, delivered from the violence of +tempestuous sorrow, and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy +tranquillity. She sat, from morning to evening, recollecting all that +had been done or said by her Pekuah; treasured up, with care, every +trifle on which Pekuah had set an accidental value, and which might +recall to mind any little incident or careless conversation. The +sentiments of her, whom she now expected to see no more, were treasured +in her memory as rules of life, and she deliberated to no other end, +than to conjecture, on any occasion, what would have been the opinion +and counsel of Pekuah. + +The women, by whom she was attended, knew nothing of her real condition, +and, therefore, she could not talk to them, but with caution and +reserve. She began to remit her curiosity, having no great care to +collect notions which she had no convenience of uttering. Rasselas +endeavoured first to comfort, and afterwards to divert her; he hired +musicians, to whom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them, and +procured masters, to instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when +they visited her again, were again to be repeated. She had lost her +taste of pleasure, and her ambition of excellence. And her mind, though +forced into short excursions, always recurred to the image of her +friend. + +Imlac was, every morning, earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries, and +was asked, every night, whether he had yet heard of Pekuah, till, not +being able to return the princess the answer that she desired, he was +less and less willing to come into her presence. She observed his +backwardness, and commanded him to attend her. "You are not," said she, +"to confound impatience with resentment, or to suppose, that I charge +you with negligence, because I repine at your unsuccessfulness. I do not +much wonder at your absence; I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, +and that all naturally avoid the contagion of misery. To hear complaints +is wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy; for who would cloud, +by adventitious grief, the short gleams of gaiety which life allows us? +or who, that is struggling under his own evils, will add to them the +miseries of another? + +"The time is at hand, when none shall be disturbed any longer by the +sighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end. I am +resolved to retire from the world, with all its flatteries and deceits, +and will hide myself in solitude, without any other care than to compose +my thoughts, and regulate my hours by a constant succession of innocent +occupations, till, with a mind purified from all earthly desires, I +shall enter into that state, to which all are hastening, and in which I +hope again to enjoy the friendship of Pekuah." + +"Do not entangle your mind," said Imlac, "by irrevocable determinations, +nor increase the burden of life by a voluntary accumulation of misery: +the weariness of retirement will continue or increase, when the loss of +Pekuah is forgotten. That you have been deprived of one pleasure, is no +very good reason for rejection of the rest." + +"Since Pekuah was taken from me," said the princess, "I have no pleasure +to reject or to retain. She that has no one to love or trust has little +to hope. She wants the radical principle of happiness. We may, perhaps, +allow that what satisfaction this world can afford, must arise from the +conjunction of wealth, knowledge, and goodness. Wealth is nothing, but +as it is bestowed, and knowledge nothing, but as it is communicated: +they must, therefore, be imparted to others, and to whom could I now +delight to impart them? Goodness affords the only comfort, which can be +enjoyed without a partner, and goodness may be practised in retirement." + +"How far solitude may admit goodness, or advance it, I shall not," +replied Imlac, "dispute at present. Remember the confession of the pious +hermit. You will wish to return into the world, when the image of your +companion has left your thoughts." "That time," said Nekayah, "will +never come. The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness, and the +faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah, will always be more missed, as I +shall live longer to see vice and folly." + +"The state of a mind, oppressed with a sudden calamity," said Imlac, "is +like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new-created earth, who, +when the first night came upon them, supposed that day would never +return. When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond +them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet a new day +succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn of ease. +But they who restrain themselves from receiving comfort, do as the +savages would have done, had they put out their eyes when it was dark. +Our minds, like our bodies, are in continual flux; something is hourly +lost, and something acquired. To lose much, at once, is inconvenient to +either, but, while the vital powers remain uninjured, nature will find +the means of reparation. Distance has the same effect on the mind, as on +the eye, and, while we glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave +behind us, is always lessening, and that which we approach increasing in +magnitude. Do not suffer life to stagnate; it will grow muddy for want +of motion: commit yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah +will vanish by degrees; you will meet, in your way, some other +favourite, or learn to diffuse yourself in general conversation." + +"At least," said the prince, "do not despair before all remedies have +been tried; the inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued, +and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on condition that +you will promise to wait a year for the event, without any unalterable +resolution." + +Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her +brother, who had been advised, by Imlac, to require it. Imlac had, +indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah, but he supposed, that, if he +could secure the interval of a year, the princess would be then in no +danger of a cloister. + +CHAP. XXXVI. + +PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED. THE PROGRESS OF SORROW. + +Nekayah, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her +favourite, and having, by her promise, set her intention of retirement +at a distance, began, imperceptibly, to return to common cares, and +common pleasures. She rejoiced, without her own consent, at the +suspension of her sorrows, and sometimes caught herself, with +indignation, in the act of turning away her mind from the remembrance of +her, whom yet she resolved never to forget. + +She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the +merits and fondness of Pekuah, and, for some weeks, retired constantly, +at the time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen, and her +countenance clouded. By degrees, she grew less scrupulous, and suffered +any important and pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily +tears. She then yielded to less occasions; sometimes forgot what she +was, indeed, afraid to remember, and, at last, wholly released herself +from the duty of periodical affliction. + +Her real love of Pekuah was yet not diminished. A thousand occurrences +brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which nothing but the +confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted. She, +therefore, solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave no +art of intelligence untried, that, at least, she might have the comfort +of knowing, that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. "Yet, +what," said she, "is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when +we find the state of life to be such, that happiness itself is the cause +of misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that, of which the +possession cannot be secured? I shall, henceforward, fear to yield my +heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, +lest I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah." + +CHAP. XXXVII. + +THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH. + +In seven months, one of the messengers, who had been sent away, upon the +day when the promise was drawn from the princess, returned, after many +unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that +Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle, or +fortress, on the extremity of Egypt. The Arab, whose revenue was +plunder, was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, for two +hundred ounces of gold. + +The price was no subject of debate. The princess was in ecstasies when +she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply be +ransomed. She could not think of delaying, for a moment, Pekuah's +happiness or her own, but entreated her brother to send back the +messenger with the sum required. Imlac, being consulted, was not very +confident of the veracity of the relater, and was still more doubtful of +the Arab's faith, who might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain, +at once, the money and the captives. He thought it dangerous to put +themselves in the power of the Arab, by going into his district, and +could not expect that the rover would so much expose himself as to come +into the lower country, where he might be seized by the forces of the +bassa. + +It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac, after +some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose, that Pekuah should +be conducted, by ten horsemen, to the monastery of St. Anthony, which is +situated in the deserts of upper Egypt, where she should be met by the +same number, and her ransome should be paid. + +That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal would not +be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery; and, +when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messenger to the +Arab's fortress. Rasselas was desirous to go with them; but neither his +sister nor Imlac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom of his +nation, observed the laws of hospitality, with great exactness, to those +who put themselves into his power, and, in a few days, brought Pekuah, +with her maids, by easy journeys, to the place appointed, where, +receiving the stipulated price, he restored her, with great respect, to +liberty and her friends, and undertook to conduct them back towards +Cairo, beyond all danger of robbery or violence. + +The princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport, too +violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of +tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and +gratitude. After a few hours, they returned into the refectory of the +convent, where, in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the +prince required of Pekuah the history of her adventures. + +CHAP. XXXVIII. + +THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH. + +"At what time, and in what manner I was forced away," said Pekuah, "your +servants have told you. The suddenness of the event struck me with +surprise, and I was, at first, rather stupified, than agitated with any +passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was increased by the +speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed by the Turks, +who, as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of +those whom they made a show of menacing. + +"When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their +course, and, as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to +feel more uneasiness in my mind. After some time, we stopped near a +spring, shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set upon +the ground, and offered such refreshments, as our masters were +partaking. I was suffered to sit, with my maids, apart from the rest, +and none attempted to comfort or insult us. Here I first began to feel +the full weight of my misery. The girls sat weeping in silence, and, +from time to time, looked on me for succour. I knew not to what +condition we were doomed, nor could conjecture where would be the place +of our captivity, or whence to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in +the hands of robbers and savages, and had no reason to suppose, that +their pity was more than their justice, or that they would forbear the +gratification of any ardour of desire, or caprice of cruelty. I, +however, kissed my maids, and endeavoured to pacify them, by remarking, +that we were yet treated with decency, and that, since we were now +carried beyond pursuit, there was no danger of violence to our lives. + +"When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round me, and +refused to be parted, but I commanded them not to irritate those who had +us in their power. We travelled, the remaining part of the day, through +an unfrequented and pathless country, and came, by moonlight, to the +side of a hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed. Their tents +were pitched, and their fires kindled, and our chief was welcomed, as a +man much beloved by his dependants. + +"We were received into a large tent, where we found women, who had +attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us the +supper, which they had provided, and I ate rather to encourage my maids +than to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat was taken +away, they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hoped to +find, in sleep, that remission of distress which nature seldom denies. +Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I observed that the women +looked submissively attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they +were, apparently, struck with the splendour of my clothes, and one of +them timorously laid her hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, +and, in a short time, came back with another woman, who seemed to be of +higher rank and greater authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual +act of reverence, and, taking me by the hand, placed me in a smaller +tent, spread with finer carpets, where I spent the night quietly with my +maids. + +"In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troop +came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with great +respect. 'Illustrious lady,' said he, 'my fortune is better than I had +presumed to hope; I am told, by my women, that I have a princess in my +camp.' 'Sir,' answered I, 'your women have deceived themselves and you; +I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger, who intended soon to have +left this country, in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.' +'Whoever, or whencesoever, you are,' returned the Arab, 'your dress, and +that of your servants, show your rank to be high, and your wealth to be +great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransome, think +yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose of my incursions +is to increase my riches, or, more properly, to gather tribute. The sons +of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part of the +continent, which is usurped by late invaders, and low-born tyrants, from +whom we are compelled to take, by the sword, what is denied to justice. +The violence of war admits no distinction: the lance that is lifted at +guilt and power, will, sometimes, fall on innocence and gentleness.' + +"'How little,' said I, 'did I expect that yesterday it should have +fallen upon me!' + +"'Misfortunes,' answered the Arab, 'should always be expected. If the +eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence, like yours, +had been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread their +toils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the +mean. Do not be disconsolate: I am not one of the lawless and cruel +rovers of the desert; I know the rules of civil life: I will fix your +ransome, give a passport to your messenger, and perform my stipulation, +with nice punctuality.' + +"You will easily believe, that I was pleased with his courtesy: and, +finding, that his predominant passion was desire of money, I began now +to think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought too +great for the release of Pekuah. I told him, that he should have no +reason to charge me with ingratitude, if I was used with kindness, and +that any ransome, which could be expected for a maid of common rank, +would be paid; but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He +said he would consider what he should demand, and then, smiling, bowed +and retired. + +"Soon after the women came about me, each contending to be more +officious than the other, and my maids, themselves, were served with +reverence. We travelled onwards by short journeys. On the fourth day the +chief told me, that my ransome must be two hundred ounces of gold; which +I not only promised him, but told him, that I would add fifty more, if I +and my maids were honourably treated. + +"I never knew the power of gold before. From that time, I was the leader +of the troop. The march of every day was longer, or shorter, as I +commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest. We now had +camels, and other conveniencies for travel; my own women were always at +my side, and I amused myself with observing the manners of the vagrant +nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices, with which these +deserted countries appear to have been, in some distant age, lavishly +embellished. + +"The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able to +travel by the stars, or the compass, and had marked, in his erratick +expeditions, such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger. +He observed to me, that buildings are always best preserved in places +little frequented, and difficult of access: for, when once a country +declines from its primitive splendour, the more inhabitants are left, +the quicker ruin will be made. Walls supply stones more easily than +quarries, and palaces and temples will be demolished, to make stables of +granite, and cottages of porphyry. + +CHAP. XXXIX. + +THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH CONTINUED. + +"We wandered about, in this manner, for some weeks, whether, as our +chief pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for +some convenience of his own. I endeavoured to appear contented, where +sullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and that endeavour +conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart was always with +Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much overbalanced the amusements +of the day. My women, who threw all their cares upon their mistress, set +their minds at ease, from the time when they saw me treated with +respect, and gave themselves up to the incidental alleviations of our +fatigue, without solicitude or sorrow. I was pleased with their +pleasure, and animated with their confidence. My condition had lost much +of its terrour, since I found that the Arab ranged the country merely to +get riches. Avarice is an uniform and tractable vice: other intellectual +distempers are different in different constitutions of mind; that which +sooths the pride of one, will offend the pride of another; but to the +favour of the covetous, there is a ready way: bring money, and nothing +is denied. + +"At last we came to the dwelling of our chief, a strong and spacious +house, built with stone, in an island of the Nile, which lies, as I was +told, under the tropick. 'Lady,' said the Arab, 'you shall rest, after +your journey, a few weeks, in this place, where you are to consider +yourself as sovereign. My occupation is war; I have, therefore, chosen +this obscure residence, from which I can issue unexpected, and to which +I can retire unpursued. You may now repose in security: here are few +pleasures, but here is no danger.' He then led me into the inner +apartments, and seating me on the richest couch, bowed to the ground. +His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me with malignity; +but, being soon informed that I was a great lady, detained only for my +ransome, they began to vie with each other in obsequiousness and +reverence. + +"Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty, I was, for +some days, diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place. The +turrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and afforded a view +of many windings of the stream. In the day, I wandered from one place to +another, as the course of the sun varied the splendour of the prospect, +and saw many things which I had never seen before. The crocodiles and +river-horses, are common in this unpeopled region, and I often looked +upon them with terrour, though I knew that they could not hurt me. For +some time I expected to see mermaids and tritons, which, as Imlac has +told me, the European travellers have stationed in the Nile, but no such +beings ever appeared, and the Arab, when I inquired after them, laughed +at my credulity. + +"At night the Arab always attended me to a tower, set apart for +celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names and +courses of the stars. I had no great inclination to this study, but an +appearance of attention was necessary to please my instructer, who +valued himself for his skill; and, in a little while, I found some +employment requisite to beguile the tediousness of time, which was to be +passed always amidst the same objects. I was weary of looking in the +morning, on things from which I had turned away weary in the evening. I, +therefore, was, at last, willing to observe the stars, rather than do +nothing, but could not always compose my thoughts, and was very often +thinking on Nekayah, when others imagined me contemplating the sky. Soon +after the Arab went upon another expedition, and then my only pleasure +was to talk with my maids, about the accident by which we were carried +away, and the happiness that we should all enjoy at the end of our +captivity." + +"There were women in your Arab's fortress," said the princess, "why did +you not make them your companions, enjoy their conversation, and partake +their diversions'? In a place, where they found business or amusement, +why should you alone sit corroded with idle melancholy? or, why could +not you bear, for a few months, that condition to which they were +condemned for life?" + +"The diversions of the women," answered Pekuah, "were only childish +play, by which the mind, accustomed to stronger operations, could not be +kept busy. I could do all which they delighted in doing by powers merely +sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were flown to Cairo. They +ran, from room to room, as a bird hops, from wire to wire, in his cage. +They danced for the sake of motion, as lambs frisk in a meadow. One +sometimes pretended to be hurt, that the rest might be alarmed; or hid +herself, that another might seek her. Part of their time passed in +watching the progress of light bodies, that floated on the river, and +part, in marking the various forms into which clouds broke in the sky. + +"Their business was only needlework in which I and my maids, sometimes +helped them; but you know that the mind will easily straggle from the +fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and absence from Nekayah +could receive solace from silken flowers. + +"Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation: for of +what could they be expected to talk? They had seen nothing; for they had +lived, from early youth, in that narrow spot: of what they had not seen +they could have no knowledge, for they could not read. They had no ideas +but of the few things that were within their view, and had hardly names +for any thing but their clothes and their food. As I bore a superiour +character, I was often called to terminate their quarrels, which I +decided as equitably as I could. If it could have amused me to hear the +complaints of each against the rest, I might have been often detained by +long stories; but the motives of their animosity were so small, that I +could not listen without intercepting the tale." + +"How," said Rasselas, "can the Arab, whom you represented as a man of +more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in his seraglio, +when it is filled only with women like these? Are they exquisitely +beautiful?" + +"They do not," said Pekuah, "want that unaffecting and ignoble beauty, +which may subsist without sprightliness or sublimity, without energy of +thought, or dignity of virtue. But to a man, like the Arab, such beauty +was only a flower, casually plucked, and carelessly thrown away. +Whatever pleasures he might find among them, they were not those of +friendship or society. When they were playing about him, he looked on +them with inattentive superiority: when they vied for his regard, he +sometimes turned away disgusted. As they had no knowledge, their talk +could take nothing from the tediousness of life; as they had no choice, +their fondness, or appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pride +nor gratitude; he was not exalted in his own esteem by the smiles of a +woman, who saw no other man, nor was much obliged by that regard, of +which he could never know the sincerity, and which he might often +perceive to be exerted, not so much to delight him, as to pain a rival. +That which he gave, and they received, as love, was only a careless +distribution of superfluous time, such love as man can bestow upon that +which he despises, such as has neither hope nor fear, neither joy nor +sorrow." + +"You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy," said Imlac, "that you +have been thus easily dismissed. How could a mind, hungry for knowledge, +be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a banquet as +Pekuah's conversation?" + +"I am inclined to believe," answered Pekuah, "that he was, for sometime, +in suspense; for, notwithstanding his promise, whenever I proposed to +despatch a messenger to Cairo, he found some excuse for delay. While I +was detained in his house, he made many incursions into the neighbouring +countries, and, perhaps, he would have refused to discharge me, had his +plunder been equal to his wishes. He returned always courteous, related +his adventures, delighted to hear my observations, and endeavoured to +advance my acquaintance with the stars. When I importuned him to send +away my letters, he soothed me with professions of honour and sincerity; +and, when I could be no longer decently denied, put his troop again in +motion, and left me to govern in his absence. I was much afflicted by +this studied procrastination, and was sometimes afraid, that I should be +forgotten; that you would leave Cairo, and I must end my days in an +island of the Nile. + +"I grew, at last, hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to +entertain him, that he, for awhile, more frequently talked with my +maids. That he should fall in love with them, or with me, might have +been equally fatal, and I was not much pleased with the growing +friendship. My anxiety was not long; for, as I recovered some degree of +cheerfulness, he returned to me, and I could not forbear to despise my +former uneasiness. + +"He still delayed to send for my ransome, and would, perhaps, never have +determined, had not your agent found his way to him. The gold, which he +would not fetch, he could not reject, when it was offered. He hastened +to prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered from the pain of +an intestine conflict. I took leave of my companions in the house, who +dismissed me with cold indifference." + +Nekayah, having heard her favourite's relation, rose and embraced her, +and Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold, which she presented to +the Arab for the fifty that were promised. + +CHAP. XL. + +THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING. + +They returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at finding themselves +together, that none of them went much abroad. The prince began to love +learning, and, one day, declared to Imlac, that he intended to devote +himself to science, and pass the rest of his days in literary solitude. + +"Before you make your final choice," answered Imlac, "you ought to +examine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are grown old +in the company of themselves. I have just left the observatory of one of +the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty years in +unwearied attention to the motions and appearances of the celestial +bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless calculations. He admits a +few friends, once a month, to hear his deductions, and enjoy his +discoveries. I was introduced, as a man of knowledge worthy of his +notice. Men of various ideas, and fluent conversation, are commonly +welcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a single +point, and who find the images of other things stealing away. I +delighted him with my remarks; he smiled at the narrative of my travels, +and was glad to forget the constellations, and descend, for a moment, +into the lower world. + +"On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so fortunate as +to please him again. He relaxed, from that time, the severity of his +rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice. I found him always +busy, and always glad to be relieved. As each knew much which the other +was desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions with great delight. I +perceived that I had, every day, more of his confidence, and always +found new cause of admiration in the profundity of his mind. His +comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourse +is methodical, and his expression clear. + +"His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning. His deepest +researches, and most favourite studies, are willingly interrupted for +any opportunity of doing good, by his counsel or his riches. To his +closest retreat, at his most busy moments, all are admitted that want +his assistance: 'For, though I exclude idleness and pleasure, I will +never,' says he, bar my doors against charity. To man is permitted the +contemplation of the skies, but the practice of virtue is commanded.'" + +"Surely," said the princess, "this man is happy." + +"I visited him," said Imlac, "with more and more frequency, and was +every time more enamoured of his conversation: he was sublime without +haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative without +ostentation. I was, at first, great princess, of your opinion; thought +him the happiest of mankind; and often congratulated him on the blessing +that he enjoyed. He seemed to hear nothing with indifference but the +praises of his condition, to which he always returned a general answer, +and diverted the conversation to some other topick. + +"Amidst this willingness to be pleased, and labour to please, I had, +quickly, reason to imagine, that some painful sentiment pressed upon his +mind. He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let his voice +fall in the midst of his discourse. He would sometimes, when we were +alone, gaze upon me, in silence, with the air of a man, who longed to +speak what he was yet resolved to suppress. He would often send for me, +with vehement injunctions of haste, though, when I came to him, he had +nothing extraordinary to say. And sometimes, when I was leaving him, +would call me back, pause a few moments, and then dismiss me." + +CHAP. XLI. + +THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS. + +"At last the time came, when the secret burst his reserve. We were +sitting together, last night, in the turret of his house, watching the +emersion of a satellite of Jupiter. A sudden tempest clouded the sky, +and disappointed our observation. We sat awhile silent in the dark, and +then he addressed himself to me in these words: 'Imlac, I have long +considered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of my life. +Integrity, without knowledge, is weak and useless; and knowledge, +without integrity, is dangerous and dreadful. I have found in thee all +the qualities requisite for trust--benevolence, experience, and +fortitude. I have long discharged an office, which I must soon quit at +the call of nature, and shall rejoice, in the hour of imbecility and +pain, to devolve it upon thee.' + +"I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested, that +whatever could conduce to his happiness, would add likewise to mine. + +"'Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not, without difficulty, credit. I have +possessed, for five years, the regulation of weather, and the +distribution of the seasons: the sun has listened to my dictates, and +passed, from tropick to tropick, by my direction; the clouds, at my +call, have poured their waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my +command; I have restrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the +fervours of the crab. The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, +have, hitherto, refused my authority, and multitudes have perished by +equinoctial tempests, which I found myself unable to prohibit or +restrain. I have administered this great office with exact justice, and +made, to the different nations of the earth, an impartial dividend of +rain and sunshine. What must have been the misery of half the globe, if +I had limited the clouds to particular regions, or confined the sun to +either side of the equator!' + +CHAP. XLII. + +THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED. + +"I suppose he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room, some +tokens of amazement and doubt, for, after a short pause, he proceeded +thus: + +"'Not to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend me; for I +am, probably, the first of human beings to whom this trust has been +imparted. Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction a reward or +punishment; since I have possessed it, I have been far less happy than +before, and nothing but the consciousness of good intention could have +enabled me to support the weariness of unremitted vigilance.' + +"How long, sir, said I, has this great office been in your hands?" + +"'About ten years ago,' said he, 'my daily observations of the changes +of the sky, led me to consider, whether, if I had the power of the +seasons, I could confer greater plenty upon the inhabitants of the +earth. This contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat, days and +nights, in imaginary dominion, pouring, upon this country and that, the +showers of fertility, and seconding every fall of rain with a due +proportion of sunshine. I had yet only the will to do good, and did not +imagine that I should ever have the power. + +"'One day, as I was looking on the fields withering with heat, I felt, +in my mind, a sudden wish that I could send rain on the southern +mountains, and raise the Nile to an inundation. In the hurry of my +imagination, I commanded rain to fall, and, by comparing the time of my +command with that of the inundation, I found, that the clouds had +listened to my lips.' + +"Might not some other cause," said I, "produce this concurrence? the +Nile does not always rise on the same day. + +"'Do not believe,' said he, with impatience, 'that such objections could +escape me: I reasoned long against my own conviction, and laboured +against truth with the utmost obstinacy. I sometimes suspected myself of +madness, and should not have dared to impart this secret, but to a man +like you, capable of distinguishing the wonderful from the impossible, +and the incredible from the false.' + +"Why, sir," said I, "do you call that incredible, which you know, or +think you know, to be true? + +"'Because,' said he, 'I cannot prove it by any external evidence; and I +know, too well, the laws of demonstration, to think that my conviction +ought to influence another, who cannot, like me, be conscious of its +force. I, therefore, shall not attempt to gain credit by disputation. It +is sufficient, that I feel this power, that I have long possessed, and +every day exerted it. But the life of man is short, the infirmities of +age increase upon me, and the time will soon come, when the regulator of +the year must mingle with the dust. The care of appointing a successour +has long disturbed me; the night and the day have been spent in +comparisons of all the characters which have come to my knowledge, and I +have yet found none so worthy as thyself.' + +CHAP. XLIII. + +THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS. + +"'Hear, therefore, what I shall impart, with attention, such as the +welfare of the world requires. If the task of a king be considered as +difficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot do +much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him, on whom depends the +action of the elements, and the great gifts of light and heat!--Hear me, +therefore, with attention. + +"'I have diligently considered the position of the earth and sun, and +formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed their situation. I have +sometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes varied the +ecliptick of the sun: but I have found it impossible to make a +disposition, by which the world may be advantaged; what one region +gains, another loses by an imaginable alteration, even without +considering the distant parts of the solar system, with which ye are +unacquainted. Do not, therefore, in thy administration of the year, +indulge thy pride by innovation; do not please thyself with thinking, +that thou canst make thyself renowned to all future ages, by disordering +the seasons. The memory of mischief is no desirable fame. Much less will +it become thee to let kindness or interest prevail. Never rob other +countries of rain to pour it on thine own. For us the Nile is +sufficient.' + +"I promised, that when I possessed the power, I would use it with +inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my hand. 'My heart,' +said he, 'will be now at rest, and my benevolence will no more destroy +my quiet: I have found a man of wisdom and virtue, to whom I can +cheerfully bequeath the inheritance of the sun.'" + +The prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but the +princess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter. "Ladies," +said Imlac, "to mock the heaviest of human afflictions, is neither +charitable nor wise. Few can attain this man's knowledge, and few +practise his virtues; but all may suffer his calamity. Of the +uncertainties of our present state, the most dreadful and alarming is +the uncertain continuance of reason." + +The princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed. Rasselas, +more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac, whether he thought such +maladies of the mind frequent, and how they were contracted. + +CHAP. XLIV. + +THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION. + +"Disorders of intellect," answered Imlac, "happen much more often than +superficial observers will easily believe. Perhaps, if we speak with +rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right state[a]. There is no +man, whose imagination does not, sometimes, predominate over his reason, +who can regulate his attention wholly by his will, and whose ideas will +come and go at his command. No man will be found, in whose mind airy +notions do not, sometimes, tyrannize, and force him to hope or fear +beyond the limits of sober probability. All power of fancy over reason, +is a degree of insanity; but, while this power is such as we can control +and repress, it is not visible to others, nor considered as any +deprivation of the mental faculties: it is not pronounced madness, but +when it becomes ungovernable, and apparently influences speech or +action. + +"To indulge the power of fiction, and send imagination out upon the +wing, is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent +speculation. When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour of +excogitation is too violent to last long; the ardour of inquiry will, +sometimes, give way to idleness or satiety. He who has nothing external +that can divert him, must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must +conceive himself what he is not; for who is pleased with what he is? He +then expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls, from all imaginable +conditions, that which, for the present moment, he should most desire; +amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers upon his +pride unattainable dominion. The mind dances from scene to scene, unites +all pleasures in all combinations, and riots in delights, which nature +and fortune, with all their bounty, cannot bestow. + +"In time, some particular train of ideas fixes the attention; all other +intellectual gratifications are rejected; the mind, in weariness or +leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts on +the luscious falsehood, whenever she is offended with the bitterness of +truth. By degrees, the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first +imperious, and in time despotick. Then fictions begin to operate as +realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in +dreams of rapture or of anguish. + +"This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit has +confessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomer's misery +has proved to be not always propitious to wisdom." + +"I will no more," said the favourite, "imagine myself the queen of +Abissinia. I have often spent the hours, which the princess gave to my +own disposal, in adjusting ceremonies, and regulating the court; I have +repressed the pride of the powerful, and granted the petitions of the +poor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations, planted groves +upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence of +royalty, till, when the princess entered, I had almost forgotten to bow +down before her." + +"And I," said the princess, "will not allow myself any more to play the +shepherdess in my waking dreams. I have often soothed my thoughts with +the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments, till I have, in my +chamber, heard the winds whistle, and the sheep bleat: sometimes freed +the lamb entangled in the thicket, and, sometimes, with my crook, +encountered the wolf. I have a dress like that of the village maids, +which I put on to help my imagination, and a pipe, on which I play +softly, and suppose myself followed by my flocks." + +"I will confess," said the prince, "an indulgence of fantastick delight +more dangerous than yours. I have frequently endeavoured to image the +possibility of a perfect government, by which all wrong should be +restrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects preserved in +tranquillity and innocence. This thought produced innumerable schemes of +reformation, and dictated many useful regulations and salutary edicts. +This has been the sport, and sometimes the labour, of my solitude; and I +start, when I think, with how little anguish I once supposed the death +of my father and my brothers." + +"Such," said Imlac, "are the effects of visionary schemes; when we first +form them, we know them to be absurd, but familiarize them by degrees, +and, in time, lose sight of their folly." + +[a] See Traite Médico-philosophique sur l'Aliénation Mentale, par +Pinel. Dr. Willis defined, in remarkable accordance with this case +in Rasselas, insanity to be the tendency of a mind to cherish one +idea, or one set of ideas, to the exclusion of others.--ED. + +CHAP. XLV. + +THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN. + +The evening was now far past, and they rose to return home. As they +walked along the bank of the Nile, delighted with the beams of the moon +quivering on the water, they saw, at a small distance, an old man, whom +the prince had often heard in the assembly of the sages. "Yonder," said +he, "is one whose years have calmed his passions, but not clouded his +reason: let us close the disquisitions of the night, by inquiring, what +are his sentiments of his own state, that we may know whether youth +alone is to struggle with vexation, and whether any better hope remains +for the latter part of life." + +Here the sage approached and saluted them. They invited him to join +their walk, and prattled awhile, as acquaintance that had unexpectedly +met one another. The old man was cheerful and talkative, and the way +seemed short in his company. He was pleased to find himself not +disregarded, accompanied them to their house, and, at the prince's +request, entered with them. They placed him in the seat of honour, and +set wine and conserves before him. "Sir," said the princess, "an evening +walk must give, to a man of learning, like you, pleasures which +ignorance and youth can hardly conceive. You know the qualities and the +causes of all that you behold, the laws by which the river flows, the +periods in which the planets perform their revolutions. Every thing must +supply you with contemplation, and renew the consciousness of your own +dignity." + +"Lady," answered he, "let the gay and the vigorous expect pleasure in +their excursions; it is enough that age can obtain ease. To me, the +world has lost its novelty: I look round, and see what I remember to +have seen in happier days. I rest against a tree, and consider, that in +the same shade I once disputed upon the annual overflow of the Nile, +with a friend who is now silent in the grave. I cast my eyes upwards, +fix them on the changing moon, and think, with pain, on the vicissitudes +of life. I have ceased to take much delight in physical truth; for what +have I to do with those things which I am soon to leave?" + +"You may, at least, recreate yourself," said Imlac, "with the +recollection of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise +which all agree to give you." + +"Praise," said the sage, with a sigh, "is, to an old man, an empty +sound. I have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation of her +son, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband. I have outlived my +friends and my rivals. Nothing is now of much importance; for I cannot +extend my interest beyond myself. Youth is delighted with applause, +because it is considered, as the earnest of some future good, and +because the prospect of life is far extended; but to me, who am now +declining to decrepitude, there is little to be feared from the +malevolence of men, and yet less to be hoped from their affection or +esteem. Something they may yet take away, but they can give me nothing. +Riches would now be useless, and high employment would be pain. My +retrospect of life recalls to my view many opportunities of good +neglected, much time squandered upon trifles, and more lost in idleness +and vacancy. I leave many great designs unattempted, and many great +attempts unfinished. My mind is burdened with no heavy crime, and, +therefore, I compose myself to tranquillity; endeavour to abstract my +thoughts from hopes and cares, which, though reason knows them to be +vain, still try to keep their old possession of the heart; expect, with +serene humility, that hour which nature cannot long delay; and hope to +possess, in a better state, that happiness, which here I could not find, +and that virtue, which here I have not attained." + +He rose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with the +hope of long life. The prince consoled himself with remarking, that it +was not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for age had never +been considered as the season of felicity, and, if it was possible to be +easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour and +alacrity might be happy; that the noon of life might be bright, if the +evening could be calm. + +The princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, and +delighted to repress the expectations of those, who had newly entered +the world. She had seen the possessours of estates look with envy on +their heirs, and known many who enjoyed pleasure no longer than they +could confine it to themselves. + +Pekuah conjectured, that the man was older than he appeared, and was +willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection: or else +supposed that he had been unfortunate, and was, therefore, discontented: +"For nothing," said she, "is more common than to call our own condition, +the condition of life." + +Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the comforts +which they could so readily procure to themselves, and remembered, that, +at the same age, he was equally confident of unmingled prosperity, and +equally fertile of consolatory expedients. He forbore to force upon them +unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon impress. The +princess and her lady retired; the madness of the astronomer hung on +their minds, and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and delay +next morning, the rising of the sun. + +CHAP. XLVI. + +THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER. + +The princess and Pekuah having talked in private of Imlac's astronomer, +thought his character at once so amiable and so strange, that they could +not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge; and Imlac was requested to +find the means of bringing them together. + +This was somewhat difficult; the philosopher had never received any +visits from women, though he lived in a city that had in it many +Europeans, who followed the manners of their own countries, and many, +from other parts of the world, that lived there with European liberty. +The ladies would not be refused, and several schemes were proposed for +the accomplishment of their design. It was proposed to introduce them as +strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible; but, +after some deliberation, it appeared, that by this artifice, no +acquaintance could be formed, for their conversation would be short, and +they could not decently importune him often. "This," said Rasselas, "is +true; but I have yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation +of your state. I have always considered it as treason against the great +republick of human nature, to make any man's virtues the means of +deceiving him, whether on great or little occasions. All imposture +weakens confidence, and chills benevolence. When the sage finds that you +are not what you seemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man +who, conscious of great abilities, discovers that he has been tricked by +understandings meaner than his own, and, perhaps, the distrust, which he +can never afterwards wholly lay aside, may stop the voice of counsel, +and close the hand of charity; and where will you find the power of +restoring his benefactions to mankind, or his peace to himself?" + +To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their +curiosity would subside; but, next day, Pekuah told him, she had now +found an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she would +solicit permission to continue, under him, the studies in which she had +been initiated by the Arab, and the princess might go with her, either +as a fellow-student, or because a woman could not decently come alone. +"I am afraid," said Imlac, "that he will be soon weary of your company: +men, advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the elements of +their art, and I am not certain that even of the elements, as he will +deliver them, connected with inferences, and mingled with reflections, +you are a very capable auditress." "That," said Pekuah, "must be my +care: I ask of you only to take me thither. My knowledge is, perhaps, +more than you imagine it, and, by concurring always with his opinions, I +shall make him think it greater than it is." + +The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told, that a +foreign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his +reputation, and was desirous to become his scholar. The uncommonness of +the proposal raised, at once, his surprise and curiosity; and when, +after a short deliberation, he consented to admit her, he could not +stay, without impatience, till the next day. + +The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by Imlac +to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached with +respect by persons of so splendid an appearance. In the exchange of the +first civilities, he was timorous and bashful; but, when the talk became +regular, he recollected his powers, and justified the character which +Imlac had given. Inquiring of Pekuah, what could have turned her +inclination toward astronomy, he received from her a history of her +adventure at the pyramid, and of the time passed in the Arab's island. +She told her tale with ease and elegance, and her conversation took +possession of his heart. The discourse was then turned to astronomy; +Pekuah displayed what she knew: he looked upon her as a prodigy of +genius, and entreated her not to desist from a study, which she had so +happily begun. + +They came again and again, and were, every time, more welcome than +before. The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might prolong +their visits, for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company; +the clouds of solicitude vanished by degrees, as he forced himself to +entertain them, and he grieved, when he was left, at their departure, to +his old employment of regulating the seasons. + +The princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for several +months, and could not catch a single word, from which they could judge +whether he continued, or not, in the opinion of his preternatural +commission. They often contrived to bring him to an open declaration; +but he easily eluded all their attacks, and on which side soever they +pressed him, escaped from them to some other topick. + +As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house of +Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect. He began, +gradually, to delight in sublunary pleasures. He came early, and +departed late; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity and +compliance; excited their curiosity after new arts, that they might +still want his assistance; and, when they made any excursion of +pleasure, or inquiry, entreated to attend them. + +By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the prince and his +sister were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and, lest +he should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received, +discovered to him their condition, with the motives of their journey; +and required his opinion on the CHOICE OF LIFE. + +"Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you, which you +shall prefer," said the sage, "I am not able to instruct you. I can only +tell, that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in study, without +experience; in the attainment of sciences, which can, for the most part, +be but remotely useful to mankind. I have purchased knowledge at the +expense of all the common comforts of life: I have missed the endearing +elegance of female friendship, and the happy commerce of domestick +tenderness. If I have obtained any prerogatives above other students, +they have been accompanied with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but, +even of these prerogatives, whatever they were, I have, since my +thoughts have been diversified by more intercourse with the world, begun +to question the reality. When I have been, for a few days, lost in +pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that my inquiries +have ended in errour, and that I have suffered much, and suffered it in +vain." + +Imlac was delighted to find that the sage's understanding was breaking +through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planets, till he +should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recover its +original influence. + +From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship, and +partook of all their projects and pleasures: his respect kept him +attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much time +unengaged. Something was always to be done; the day was spent in making +observations which furnished talk for the evening, and the evening was +closed with a scheme for the morrow. + +The sage confessed to Imlac, that since he had mingled in the gay +tumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, he +found the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually from +his mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never could +prove to others, and which he now found subject to variation, from +causes in which reason had no part. "If I am accidentally left alone for +a few hours," said he, "my inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, +and my thoughts are chained down by some irresistible violence; but they +are soon disentangled by the prince's conversation, and instantaneously +released at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually afraid of +spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread which +harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels again +the terrours which he knows, that when it is light he shall feel no +more. But I am sometimes afraid, lest I indulge my quiet by criminal +negligence, and voluntarily forget the great charge with which I am +intrusted. If I favour myself in a known errour, or am determined, by my +own ease, in a doubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my +crime!" + +"No disease of the imagination," answered Imlac, "is so difficult of +cure, as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt: fancy and +conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift their +places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the +dictates of the other. If fancy presents images not moral or religious, +the mind drives them away when they give it pain, but when melancholick +notions take the form of duty, they lay hold on the faculties without +opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or banish them. For this +reason, the superstitious are often melancholy, and the melancholy +almost always superstitious. + +"But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better +reason: the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of the +obligation, which, when you consider it with freedom, you find very +little, and that little growing every day less. Open your heart to the +influence of the light, which, from time to time, breaks in upon you: +when scruples importune you, which you, in your lucid moments know to be +vain, do not stand to parley, but fly to business or to Pekuah, and keep +this thought always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass of +humanity, and have neither such virtue nor vice, as that you should be +singled out for supernatural favours or afflictions." + +CHAP. XLVII. + +THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPICK. + +"All this," said the astronomer, "I have often thought, but my reason +has been so long subjugated by an uncontroulable and overwhelming idea, +that it durst not confide in its own decisions. I now see how fatally I +betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon me in secret; but +melancholy shrinks from communication, and I never found a man before, +to whom I could impart my troubles, though I had been certain of relief. +I rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not +easily deceived, and can have no motive or purpose to deceive. I hope +that time and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so long +surrounded me, and the latter part of my days will be spent in peace." + +"Your learning and virtue," said Imlac, "may justly give you hopes." + +Rasselas then entered with the princess and Pekuah, and inquired, +whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day? "Such," +said Nekayah, "is the state of life, that none are happy, but by the +anticipation of change: the change itself is nothing: when we have made +it, the next wish is to change again. The world is not yet exhausted; +let me see something to-morrow, which I never saw before." + +"Variety," said Rasselas, "is so necessary to content, that even the +happy valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries; yet I could +not forbear to reproach myself with impatience, when I saw the monks of +St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life not of uniform delight, +but uniform hardship." + +"Those men," answered Imlac, "are less wretched in their silent convent, +than the Abissinian princes in their prison of pleasure. Whatever is +done by the monks is incited by an adequate and reasonable motive. Their +labour supplies them with necessaries; it, therefore, cannot be omitted, +and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them for another +state, and reminds them of its approach, while it fits them for it. +Their time is regularly distributed; one duty succeeds another, so that +they are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost +in the shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be +performed at an appropriated hour; and their toils are cheerful, because +they consider them as acts of piety, by which they are always advancing +towards endless felicity." + +"Do you think," said Nekayah, "that the monastick rule is a more holy +and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope for +future happiness, who converses openly with mankind, who succours the +distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and +contributes, by his industry, to the general system of life: even though +he should omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the +cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights, as his condition may +place within his reach." + +"This," said Imlac, "is a question which has long divided the wise, and +perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He that lives +well in the world, is better than he that lives well in a monastery. +But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the temptations of publick +life; and, if he cannot conquer, he may properly retreat. Some have +little power to do good, and have, likewise, little strength to resist +evil. Many are weary of their conflicts with adversity, and are willing +to eject those passions which have long busied them in vain. And many +are dismissed, by age and disease, from the more laborious duties of +society. In monasteries, the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, +the weary may repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of +prayer and contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man, +that, perhaps, there is scarcely one that does not propose to close his +life in pious abstraction with a few associates, serious as himself." + +"Such," said Pekuah, "has often been my wish; and I have heard the +princess declare, that she should not willingly die in a crowd." + +"The liberty of using harmless pleasures," proceeded Imlac, "will not be +disputed; but it is still to be examined, what pleasures are harmless. +The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image, is not in the act +itself, but in its consequences. Pleasure, in itself harmless, may +become mischievous, by endearing to us a state which we know to be +transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that, of +which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning, and of which no +length of time will bring us to the end. Mortification is not virtuous +in itself, nor has any other use, but that it disengages us from the +allurements of sense. In the state of future perfection, to which we all +aspire, there will be pleasure without danger, and security without +restraint." + +The princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer, asked +him, whether he could not delay her retreat, by showing her something +which she had not seen before. + +"Your curiosity," said the sage, "has been so general, and your pursuit +of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very easily to be +found; but what you can no longer procure from the living, may be given +by the dead. Among the wonders of this country are the catacombs, or the +ancient repositories, in which the bodies of the earliest generations +were lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums which embalmed them, +they yet remain without corruption." + +"I know not," said Rasselas, "what pleasure the sight of the catacombs +can afford; but, since nothing else offers, I am resolved to view them, +and shall place this with many other things which I have done, because I +would do something." + +They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the catacombs. +When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves, "Pekuah," +said the princess, "we are now again invading the habitations of the +dead: I know that you will stay behind; let me find you safe when I +return." "No, I will not be left," answered Pekuah; "I will go down +between you and the prince." + +They then all descended, and roved, with wonder, through the labyrinth +of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rows on either +side. + +CHAP. XLVIII. + +IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL. + +"What reason," said the prince, "can be given, why the Egyptians should +thus expensively preserve those carcasses which some nations consume +with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all agree to remove +from their sight, as soon as decent rites can be performed?" + +"The original of ancient customs," said Imlac "is commonly unknown; for +the practice often continues when the cause has ceased; and, concerning +superstitious ceremonies, it is vain to conjecture; for what reason did +not dictate, reason cannot explain. I have long believed that the +practice of embalming arose only from tenderness to the remains of +relations or friends; and to this opinion I am more inclined, because it +seems impossible that this care should have been general: had all the +dead been embalmed, their repositories must, in time, have been more +spacious than the dwellings of the living. I suppose only the rich or +honourable were secured from corruption, and the rest left to the course +of nature. + +"But it is commonly supposed, that the Egyptians believed the soul to +live as long as the body continued undissolved, and, therefore, tried +this method of eluding death." + +"Could the wise Egyptians," said Nekayah, "think so grossly of the soul? +If the soul could once survive its separation, what could it afterwards +receive or suffer from the body?" + +"The Egyptians would, doubtless, think erroneously," said the +astronomer, "in the darkness of heathenism, and the first dawn of +philosophy. The nature of the soul is still disputed, amidst all our +opportunities of clearer knowledge; some yet say, that it may be +material, who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal." + +"Some," answered Imlac, "have, indeed, said, that the soul is material, +but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it, who knew how to +think; for all the conclusions of reason enforce the immateriality of +mind, and all the notices of sense and investigations of science concur +to prove the unconsciousness of matter. + +"It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter, or that +every particle is a thinking being. Yet, if any part of matter be devoid +of thought, what part can we suppose to think? Matter can differ from +matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion: to +which of these, however varied or combined, can consciousness be +annexed? To be round or square, to be solid or fluid, to be great or +little, to be moved slowly or swiftly one way or another, are modes of +material existence, all equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If +matter be once without thought, it can only be made to think by some new +modification, but all the modifications which it can admit, are equally +unconnected with cogitative powers." + +"But the materialists," said the astronomer, "urge, that matter may have +qualities, with which we are unacquainted." + +"He who will determine," returned Imlac, "against that which he knows, +because there may be something, which he knows not; he that can set +hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is not to be +admitted among reasonable beings. All that we know of matter is, that +matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and, if this conviction cannot +be opposed but by referring us to something that we know not, we have +all the evidence that human intellect can admit. If that which is known +may be overruled by that which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, can +arrive at certainty." + +"Yet let us not," said the astronomer, "too arrogantly limit the +creator's power." + +"It is no limitation of omnipotence," replied the poet, "to suppose that +one thing is not consistent with another; that the same proposition +cannot be, at once, true and false; that the same number cannot be even +and odd; that cogitation cannot be conferred on that which is created +incapable of cogitation." + +"I know not," said Nekayah, "any great use of this question. Does that +immateriality, which, in my opinion, you have sufficiently proved, +necessarily include eternal duration?" + +"Of immateriality," said Imlac, "our ideas are negative, and, therefore, +obscure. Immateriality seems to imply a natural power of perpetual +duration, as a consequence of exemption from all causes of decay: +whatever perishes is destroyed by the solution of its contexture, and +separation of its parts; nor can we conceive how that which has no +parts, and, therefore, admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted or +impaired." + +"I know not," said Rasselas, "how to conceive any thing without +extension; what is extended must have parts, and you allow, that +whatever has parts may be destroyed." + +"Consider your own conceptions," replied Imlac, "and the difficulty will +be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal form is no +less real than material bulk: yet an ideal form has no extension. It is +no less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind possesses +the idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid itself is standing. What +space does the idea of a pyramid occupy more than the idea of a grain of +corn? or how can either idea suffer laceration? As is the effect, such +is the cause: as thought, such is the power that thinks; a power +impassive and indiscerptible." + +"But the being," said Nekayah, "whom I fear to name, the being which +made the soul, can destroy it." + +"He, surely, can destroy it," answered Imlac, "since, however +unperishable, it receives from a superiour nature its power of duration. +That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay, or principle of +corruption, may be shown by philosophy; but philosophy can tell no more. +That it will not be annihilated by him that made it, we must humbly +learn from higher authority." + +The whole assembly stood, awhile, silent and collected. "Let us return," +said Rasselas, "from this scene of mortality. How gloomy would be these +mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he should never die; +that what now acts shall continue its agency, and what now thinks shall +think on for ever. Those that lie here, stretched before us, the wise +and the powerful of ancient times, warn us to remember the shortness of +our present state: they were, perhaps, snatched away, while they were +busy, like us, in the choice of life." + +"To me," said the princess, "the choice of life is become less +important; I hope, hereafter, to think only on the choice of eternity." + +They then hastened out of the caverns, and, under the protection of +their guard, returned to Cairo. + +CHAP. XLIX. + +THIS CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED. + +It was now the time of the inundation of the Nile: a few days after +their visit to the catacombs the river began to rise. + +They were confined to their house. The whole region, being under water, +gave them no invitation to any excursions, and, being well supplied with +materials for talk, they diverted themselves with comparisons of the +different forms of life, which they had observed, and with various +schemes of happiness, which each of them had formed. + +Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the convent of St. +Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the princess, and wished only to +fill it with pious maidens, and to be made prioress of the order: she +was weary of expectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed in some +unvariable state. + +The princess thought, that, of all sublunary things, knowledge was the +best: she desired, first, to learn all sciences, and then purposed to +found a college of learned women, in which she would preside; that, by +conversing with the old, and educating the young, she might divide her +time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise up, +fur the next age, models of prudence, and patterns of piety. + +The prince desired a little kingdom, in which he might administer +justice in his own person, and see all the parts of government with his +own eyes; but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and was +always adding to the number of his subjects. + +Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream of +life, without directing their course to any particular port. Of these +wishes, that they had formed, they well knew that none could be +obtained. They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and resolved, +when the inundation should cease, to return to Abissinia. + + + + + +LETTERS. + +I.--To MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON. + +Sept. 25th, 1750. + +DEAR SIR,--You have, as I find by every kind of evidence, lost an +excellent mother; and I hope you will not think me incapable of +partaking of your grief. I have a mother, now eighty-two years of age, +whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please God that she rather +should mourn for me. I read the letters in which you relate your +mother's death to Mrs. Strahan, and think I do myself honour, when I +tell you that I read them with tears; but tears are neither to you, nor +to me, of any farther use, when once the tribute of nature has been +paid. The business of life summons us away from useless grief, and calls +us to the exercise of those virtues, of which we are lamenting our +deprivation. + +The greatest benefit which one friend can confer upon another, is to +guard and excite and elevate his virtues. This your mother will still +perform, if you diligently preserve the memory of her life, and of her +death: a life, so far as I can learn, useful, wise, and innocent; and a +death, resigned, peaceful, and holy. I cannot forbear to mention, that +neither reason nor revelation denies you to hope, that you may increase +her happiness, by obeying her precepts; and that she may, in her present +state, look, with pleasure, upon every act of virtue, to which her +instructions or example have contributed. Whether this be more than a +pleasing dream, or a just opinion of separate spirits, is, indeed, of no +great importance to us, when we consider ourselves as acting under the +eye of God: yet, surely, there is something pleasing in the belief, that +our separation from those, whom we love, is merely corporeal; and it may +be a great incitement to virtuous friendship, if it can be made +probable, that that union, which has received the divine approbation, +shall continue to eternity. + +There is one expedient, by which you may, in some degree, continue her +presence. If you write down minutely what you remember of her from your +earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure, and receive from +it many hints of soothing recollection, when time shall remove her yet +farther from you, and your grief shall be matured to veneration. To +this, however painful for the present, I cannot but advise you, as to a +source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to come; for all comfort +and all satisfaction is sincerely wished you by, + + Dear sir, + Your most obliged, most obedient, + And most humble servant, + SAM. JOHNSON. + + +II.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, Aug. 13, 1765. + +MADAM,--If you have really so good an opinion of me as you express, it +will not be necessary to inform you how unwillingly I miss the +opportunity of coming to Brighthelmstone in Mr. Thrale's company; or, +since I cannot do what I wish first, how eagerly I shall catch the +second degree of pleasure, by coming to you and him, as soon as I can +dismiss my work from my hands. + +I am afraid to make promises, even to myself; but I hope that the week +after the next will be the end of my present business. When business is +done, what remains but pleasure? and where should pleasure be sought, +but under Mrs. Thrale's influence? + +Do not blame me for a delay by which I must suffer so much, and by which +I suffer alone. If you cannot think I am good, pray think I am mending, +and that in time I may deserve to be, dear madam, your, &c. + + +III.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, July 20, 1767. + +Madam,--Though I have been away so much longer than I purposed or +expected, I have found nothing that withdraws my affections from the +friends whom I left behind, or which makes me less desirous of reposing +at that place, which your kindness and Mr. Thrale's allows me to call my +home. + +Miss Lucy[a] is more kind and civil than I expected, and has raised my +esteem by many excellencies, very noble and resplendent, though a little +discoloured by hoary virginity. Every thing else recalls to my +remembrance years, in which I proposed what, I am afraid, I have not +done, and promised myself pleasure which I have not found. But complaint +can be of no use; and why then should I depress your hopes by my +lamentations? I suppose it is the condition of humanity to design what +never will be done, and to hope what never will be obtained. But, among +the vain hopes, let me not number the hope which I have, of being long, +dear madam, your, &c. + +[a] Miss Lucy Porter, daughter to Dr. Johnson's wife, by a former +husband. + + + +IV.--TO THE SAME. + +Lichfield, August 14, 1769. + +MADAM,--I set out on Thursday morning, and found my companion, to whom I +was very much a stranger, more agreeable than I expected. We went +cheerfully forward, and passed the night at Coventry. We came in late, +and went out early; and, therefore, I did not send for my cousin Tom: +but I design to make him some amends for the omission. + +Next day we came early to Lucy, who was, I believe, glad to see us. She +had saved her best gooseberries upon the tree for me; and, as Steele +says, "I was neither too proud nor too wise" to gather them. I have +rambled a very little "inter fontes et flumina nota," but I am not yet +well. They have cut down the trees in George lane. Evelyn, in his book +of Forest Trees, tells us of wicked men that cut down trees, and never +prospered afterwards; yet nothing has deterred these audacious aldermen +from violating the Hamadryads of George lane. As an impartial traveller, +I must however tell, that, in Stow street, where I left a draw-well, I +have found a pump; but the lading-well, in this ill fated George lane, +lies shamefully neglected. + +I am going to-day, or to-morrow, to Ashbourne; but I am at a loss how I +shall get back in time to London. Here are only chance coaches, so that +there is no certainty of a place. If I do not come, let it not hinder +your journey. I can be but a few days behind you; and I will follow in +the Brighthelmstone coach. But I hope to come. + +I took care to tell Miss Porter, that I have got another Lucy. I hope +she is well. Tell Mrs. Salusbury that I beg her stay at Streatham, for +little Lucy's sake. I am, &c. + + +V.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, July 11, 1770. + +MADAM,--Since my last letter, nothing extraordinary has happened. +Rheumatism, which has been very troublesome, is grown better. I have not +yet seen Dr. Taylor, and July runs fast away. I shall not have much time +for him, if he delays much longer to come or send. Mr. Green, the +apothecary, has found a book, which tells who paid levies in our parish, +and how much they paid, above a hundred years ago. Do you not think we +study this book hard? Nothing is like going to the bottom of things. +Many families, that paid the parish-rates, are now extinct, like the +race of Hercules: "Pulvis et umbra sumus." What is nearest us, touches +us most. The passions rise higher at domestick, than at imperial, +tragedies. I am not wholly unaffected by the revolutions of Sadler +street; nor can forbear to mourn a little when old names vanish away, +and new come into their place. + +Do not imagine, madam, that I wrote this letter for the sake of these +philosophical meditations; for when I began it, I had neither Mr. Green, +nor his book, in my thoughts; but was resolved to write, and did not +know what I had to send, but my respects to Mrs. Salusbury, and Mr. +Thrale, and Harry, and the Misses. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +VI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, July 23, 1770. + +DEAREST MADAM,--There had not been so long an interval between my two +last letters, but that, when I came hither, I did not at first +understand the hours of the post. + +I have seen the great bull; and very great he is. I have seen, likewise, +his heir apparent, who promises to inherit all the bulk, and all the +virtues, of his sire. I have seen the man who offered a hundred guineas +for the young bull, while he was yet little better than a calf. Matlock, +I am afraid, I shall not see, but I purpose to see Dovedale; and, after +all this seeing, I hope to see you. I am, &c. + + +VII.--TO THE SAME. + +Ashbourne, July 3, 1771. + +DEAR MADAM,--Last Saturday I came to Ashbourne; the dangers or the +pleasures of the journey I have, at present, no disposition to recount; +else might I paint the beauties of my native plains; might I tell of the +"smiles of nature, and the charms of art;" else might I relate, how I +crossed the Staffordshire canal, one of the great efforts of human +labour, and human contrivance, which, from the bridge on which I viewed +it, passed away on either side, and loses itself in distant regions, +uniting waters that nature had divided, and dividing lands which nature +had united. I might tell how these reflections fermented in my mind, +till the chaise stopped at Ashbourne, at Ashbourne in the Peak. Let not +the barren name of the Peak terrify you; I have never wanted +strawberries and cream. The great bull has no disease but age. I hope, +in time, to be like the great bull; and hope you will be like him, too, +a hundred years hence. I am, &c. + + +VIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, July 10, 1771. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am obliged to my friend Harry, for his remembrance, +but think it a little hard that I hear nothing from Miss. + +There has been a man here to-day to take a farm. After some talk, he +went to see the bull, and said, that he had seen a bigger. Do you think +he is likely to get the farm? + +_Toujours_ strawberries and cream. + +Dr. Taylor is much better, and my rheumatism is less painful. Let me +hear, in return, as much good of you and of Mrs. Salusbury. You despise +the Dog and Duck: things that are at hand are always slighted. I +remember that Dr. Grevil, of Gloucester, sent for that water when his +wife was in the same danger; but he lived near Malvern, and you live +near the Dog and Duck. Thus, in difficult cases, we naturally trust most +what we least know. + +Why Bromefield, supposing that a lotion can do good, should despise +laurel-water, in comparison with his own receipt, I do not see; and see, +still less, why he should laugh at that which Wall thinks efficacious. I +am afraid philosophy will not warrant much hope in a lotion. + +Be pleased to make my compliments from Mrs. Salusbury to Susy. I am, &c. + + +IX.--To THE SAME. + +October 31, 1772. + +MADAM,--Though I am just informed, that, by some accidental negligence, +the letter, which I wrote on Thursday, was not given to the post, yet I +cannot refuse myself the gratification of writing again to my mistress; +not that I have any thing to tell, but that, by showing how much I am +employed upon you, I hope to keep you from forgetting me. + +Doctor Taylor asked me, this morning, on what I was thinking; and I was +thinking on Lucy. I hope Lucy is a good girl. But she cannot yet be so +good as Queeney. I have got nothing yet for Queeney's cabinet. + +I hope dear Mrs. Salusbury grows no worse. I wish any thing could be +found that would make her better. You must remember her admonition, and +bustle in the brewhouse. When I come, you may expect to have your hands +full with all of us. + +Our bulls and cows are all well, but we yet hate the man that had seen a +bigger bull. Our deer have died, but many are left. Our waterfall, at +the garden, makes a great roaring this wet weather. + +And so no more at present from, madam, your, &c. + + +X.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 23, 1772. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sorry that none of your letters bring better news of +the poor dear lady. I hope her pain is not great. To have a disease +confessedly incurable, and apparently mortal, is a very heavy +affliction; and it is still more grievous, when pain is added to +despair. + +Every thing else in your letter pleased me very well, except that when I +come I entreat I may not be flattered, as your letters flatter me. You +have read of heroes and princes ruined by flattery, and, I question, if +any of them had a flatterer so dangerous as you. Pray keep strictly to +your character of governess. + +I cannot yet get well; my nights are flatulent and unquiet, but my days +are tolerably easy, and Taylor says, that I look much better than when I +came hither. You will see when I come, and I can take your word. + +Our house affords no revolutions. The great bull is well. But I write, +not merely to think on you, for I do that without writing, but to keep +you a little thinking on me. I perceive that I have taken a broken piece +of paper, but that is not the greatest fault that you must forgive in, +madam, your, &c. + + +XI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 27, 1772. + +DEAR MADAM,--If you are so kind as to write to me on Saturday, the day +on which you will receive this, I shall have it before I leave +Ashbourne. I am to go to Lichfield on Wednesday, and purpose to find my +way to London, through Birmingham and Oxford. + +I was yesterday at Chatsworth. It is a very fine house. I wish you had +been with me to see it; for then, as we are apt to want matter of talk, +we should have gained something new to talk on. They complimented me +with playing the fountain, and opening the cascade. But I am of my +friend's opinion, that when one has seen the ocean, cascades are but +little things. + +I am in hope of a letter to-day from you or Queeney, but the post has +made some blunder, and the packet is not yet distributed. I wish it may +bring me a little good of you all. I am, &c. + + +XII.--To THE SAME. + +Tuesday, Jan. 26, 1773. + +MADAM,--The inequalities of human life have always employed the +meditation of deep thinkers, and I cannot forbear to reflect on the +difference between your condition and my own. You live upon mock-turtle, +and stewed rumps of beef; I dined, yesterday, upon crumpets. You sit +with parish officers, caressing and caressed, the idol of the table, and +the wonder of the day. I pine in the solitude of sickness, not bad +enough to be pitied, and not well enough to be endured. You sleep away +the night, and laugh, or scold away the day. I cough and grumble, and +grumble and cough. Last night was very tedious, and this day makes no +promises of much ease. However, I have this day put on my shoe, and hope +that gout is gone. I shall have only the cough to contend with, and I +doubt whether I shall get rid of that without change of place. I caught +cold in the coach as I went away, and am disordered by very little +things. Is it accident or age? I am, dearest madam, &c. + + +XIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +March 17, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--To tell you that I am sorry, both for the poor lady and for +you, is useless. I cannot help either of you. The weakness of mind is, +perhaps, only a casual interruption or intermission of the attention, +such as we all suffer when some weighty care or urgent calamity has +possession of the mind. She will compose herself. She is unwilling to +die, and the first conviction of approaching death raised great +perturbation. I think she has but very lately thought death close at +hand. She will compose herself to do that as well as she can, which +must, at last, be done. May she not want the divine assistance! + +You, madam, will have a great loss; a greater than is common in the loss +of a parent. Fill your mind with hope of her happiness, and turn your +thoughts first to him who gives and takes away, in whose presence the +living and dead are standing together. Then remember, that when this +mournful duty is paid, others yet remain of equal obligation, and, we +may hope, of less painful performance. Grief is a species of idleness, +and the necessity of attention to the present preserves us, by the +merciful disposition of providence, from being lacerated and devoured by +sorrow for the past. You must think on your husband and your children, +and do what this dear lady has done for you. + +Not to come to town while the great struggle continues is, undoubtedly, +well resolved. But do not harass yourself into danger; you owe the care +of your health to all that love you, at least to all whom it is your +duty to love. You cannot give such a mother too much, if you do not give +her what belongs to another. I am, &c. + + +XIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +April 27, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--Hope is more pleasing than fear, but not less fallacious; +you know, when you do not try to deceive yourself, that the disease, +which at last is to destroy, must be gradually growing worse, and that +it is vain to wish for more than, that the descent to death may be slow +and easy. In this wish I join with you, and hope it will be granted. +Dear, dear lady, whenever she is lost she will be missed, and whenever +she is remembered she will be lamented. Is it a good or an evil to me, +that she now loves me? It is surely a good; for you will love me better, +and we shall have a new principle of concord; and I shall be happier +with honest sorrow, than with sullen indifference: and far happier still +than with counterfeited sympathy. + +I am reasoning upon a principle very far from certain, a confidence of +survivance. You or I, or both, may be called into the presence of the +supreme judge before her. I have lived a life of which I do not like the +review. Surely I shall, in time, live better. + +I sat down with an intention to write high compliments; but my thoughts +have taken another course, and some other time must now serve to tell +you with what other emotions, benevolence, and fidelity, I am, &c. + + +XV.--To THE SAME. + +May 17, 1773. + +MADAM,--Never imagine that your letters are long; they are always too +short for my curiosity. I do not know that I was ever content with a +single perusal. + +Of dear Mrs. Salusbury I never expect much better news than you send me; +_de pis en pis_ is the natural and certain course of her dreadful +malady. I am content, when it leaves her ease enough for the exercise of +her mind. Why should Mr. **** suppose, that what I took the liberty of +suggesting, was concerted with you? He does not know how much I revolve +his affairs, and how honestly I desire his prosperity. I hope he has let +the hint take some hold of his mind. + +Your declaration to Miss **** is more general than my opinions allow. I +think an unlimited promise of acting by the opinion of another so wrong, +that nothing, or hardly anything, can make it right. All unnecessary +vows are folly, because they suppose a prescience of the future which +has not been given us. They are, I think, a crime, because they resign +that life to chance which God has given us to be regulated by reason; +and superinduce a kind of fatality, from which it is the great privilege +of our nature to be free. Unlimited obedience is due only to the +universal father of heaven and earth. My parents may be mad and foolish; +may be wicked and malicious; may be erroneously religious, or absurdly +scrupulous. I am not bound to compliance with mandates, either positive +or negative, which either religion condemns, or reason rejects. There +wanders about the world a wild notion, which extends over marriage more +than over any other transaction. If Miss **** followed a trade, would it +be said, that she was bound, in conscience, to give or refuse credit at +her father's choice? And is not marriage a thing in which she is more +interested, and has, therefore, more right of choice? When I may suffer +for my own crimes, when I may be sued for my own debts, I may judge, by +parity of reason, for my own happiness. The parent's moral right can +arise only from his kindness, and his civil right only from his money. + +Conscience cannot dictate obedience to the wicked, or compliance with +the foolish; and of interest mere prudence is the judge. + +If the daughter is bound without a promise, she promises nothing; +and if she is not bound, she promises too much. + +What is meant by tying up money in trade I do not understand No money is +so little tied, as that which is employed in trade. Mr. ****, perhaps, +only means, that in consideration of money to be advanced, he will +oblige his son to be a trader. This is reasonable enough. Upon ten +thousand pounds, diligently occupied, they may live in great plenty and +splendour, without the mischiefs of idleness. + +I can write a long letter, as well as my mistress; and shall be glad +that my long letters may be as welcome as hers. + +My nights are grown again very uneasy and troublesome. I know not that +the country will mend them; but I hope your company will mend my days. +Though I cannot now expect much attention, and would not wish for more +than can be spared from the poor dear lady, yet I shall see you and hear +you every now and then; and to see and hear you, is always to hear wit, +and to see virtue. + +I shall I hope, see you to-morrow, and a little on the two next days; +and with that little I must, for the present, try to be contented. I am, +&c. + + +XVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +August 12, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--We left London on Friday, the 6th, not very early, and +travelled, without any memorable accident, through a country which I had +seen before. In the evening I was not well, and was forced to stop at +Stilton, one stage short of Stamford, where we intended to have lodged. + +On the 7th we passed through Stamford and Grantham, and dined at Newark, +where I had only time to observe, that the market-place was uncommonly +spacious and neat. In London, we should call it a square, though the +sides were neither straight nor parallel. We came, at night, to +Doncaster, and went to church in the morning, where Chambers found the +monument of Robert of Doncaster, who says on his stone something like +this:--What I gave, that I have; what I spent, that I had; what I left, +that I lost.--So saith Robert of Doncaster, who reigned in the world +sixty-seven years, and all that time lived not one. Here we were invited +to dinner, and, therefore, made no great haste away. + +We reached York, however, that night; I was much disordered with old +complaints. Next morning we saw the minster, an edifice of loftiness and +elegance, equal to the highest hopes of architecture. I remember +nothing, but the dome of St. Paul's, that can be compared with the +middle walk. The chapter-house is a circular building, very stately, +but, I think, excelled by the chapter-house of Lincoln. + +I then went to see the ruins of the abbey, which are almost vanished, +and I remember nothing of them distinct. The next visit was to the gaol, +which they call the castle; a fabrick built lately, such is terrestrial +mutability, out of the materials of the ruined abbey. The under gaoler +was very officious to show his fetters, in which there was no +contrivance. The head gaoler came in, and seeing me look, I suppose, +fatigued, offered me wine, and, when I went away, would not suffer his +servant to take money. The gaol is accounted the best in the kingdom, +and you find the gaoler deserving of his dignity. + +We dined at York, and went on to Northallerton, a place of which I know +nothing, but that it afforded us a lodging on Monday night, and about +two hundred and seventy years ago gave birth to Roger Ascham. + +Next morning we changed our horses at Darlington, where Mr. Cornelius +Harrison, a cousin-german of mine, was perpetual curate. He was the only +one of my relations who ever rose in fortune above penury, or in +character above neglect. + +The church is built crosswise, with a fine spire, and might invite a +traveller to survey it; but I, perhaps, wanted vigour, and thought I +wanted time. + +The next stage brought us to Durham, a place of which Mr. Thrale bade me +take particular notice. The bishop's palace has the appearance of an old +feudal castle, built upon an eminence, and looking down upon the river, +upon which was formerly thrown a drawbridge, as I suppose, to be raised +at night, lest the Scots should pass it. + +The cathedral has a massiness and solidity, such as I have seen in no +other place; it rather awes than pleases, as it strikes with a kind of +gigantick dignity, and aspires to no other praise than that of rocky +solidity and indeterminate duration. I had none of my friends resident, +and, therefore, saw but little. The library is mean and scanty. + +At Durham, beside all expectation, I met an old friend: Miss Fordyce is +married there to a physician. We met, I think, with honest kindness on +both sides. I thought her much decayed, and having since heard that the +banker had involved her husband in his extensive ruin, I cannot forbear +to think, that I saw in her withered features more impression of sorrow +than that of time-- + + "Qua terra patet, sera regnat Erinnys." + +He that wanders about the world sees new forms of human misery, and if +he chances to meet an old friend, meets a face darkened with troubles. + +On Tuesday night we came hither; yesterday I took some care of myself, +and to-day I am _quite polite_. I have been taking a view of all that +could be shown me, and find that all very near to nothing. You have +often heard me complain of finding myself disappointed by books of +travels; I am afraid travel itself will end likewise in disappointment. +One town, one country, is very like another: civilized nations have the +same customs, and barbarous nations have the same nature: there are, +indeed, minute discriminations both of places and manners, which, +perhaps, are not wanting of curiosity, but which a traveller seldom +stays long enough to investigate and compare. The dull utterly neglect +them; the acute see a little, and supply the rest with fancy and +conjecture. + +I shall set out again to-morrow; but I shall not, I am afraid, see +Alnwick, for Dr. Percy is not there. I hope to lodge to-morrow night at +Berwick, and the next at Edinburgh, where I shall direct Mr. Drummond, +bookseller at Ossian's head, to take care of my letters. + +I hope the little dears are all well, and that my dear master and +mistress may go somewhither; but, wherever you go, do not forget, madam, +your most humble servant. + +I am pretty well. + +August 15. + +Thus far I had written at Newcastle. I forgot to send it. I am now at +Edinburgh; and have been this day running about. I run pretty well. + + +XVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, August 17, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--On the 13th, I left Newcastle, and, in the afternoon, came +to Alnwick, where we were treated with great civility by the duke: I +went through the apartments, walked on the wall, and climbed the towers. +That night we lay at Belford, and, on the next night, came to Edinburgh. +On Sunday (15th) I went to the English chapel. After dinner, Dr. +Robertson came in, and promised to show me the place. On Monday I saw +their publick buildings: the cathedral, which I told Robertson I wished +to see, because it had once been a church; the courts of justice, the +parliament-house, the advocates' library, the repository of records, the +college, and its library, and the palace, particularly the old tower, +where the king of Scotland seized David Rizzio in the queen's presence. +Most of their buildings are very mean; and the whole town bears some +resemblance to the old part of Birmingham. + +Boswell has very handsome and spacious rooms, level with the ground, on +one side of the house, and, on the other, four stories high. + +At dinner, on Monday, were the dutchess of Douglas, an old lady, who +talks broad Scotch with a paralytick voice, and is scarcely understood +by her own countrymen; the lord chief baron, sir Adolphus Oughton, and +many more. At supper there was such a conflux of company, that I could +scarcely support the tumult. I have never been well in the whole +journey, and am very easily disordered. + +This morning I saw, at breakfast, Dr. Blacklock, the blind poet, who +does not remember to have seen light, and is read to, by a poor scholar, +in Latin, Greek, and French. He was, originally, a poor scholar himself. +I looked on him with reverence. Tomorrow our journey begins; I know not +when I shall write again. I am but poorly. I am, &c. + + +XVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Bamff, August 25, 1773. + +Dear Madam,--It has so happened, that, though I am perpetually thinking +on you, I could seldom find opportunity to write; I have, in fourteen +days, sent only one letter; you must consider the fatigues of travel, +and the difficulties encountered in a strange country. + +August 18th. I passed, with Boswell, the frith of Forth, and began our +journey; in the passage we observed an island, which I persuaded my +companions to survey. We found it a rock somewhat troublesome to climb, +about a mile long, and half a mile broad; in the middle were the ruins +of an old fort, which had, on one of the stones,--"Maria Re. 1564." It +had been only a blockhouse, one story high. I measured two apartments, +of which the walls were entire, and found them twenty-seven feet long, +and twenty-three broad. The rock had some grass and many thistles; both +cows and sheep were grazing. There was a spring of water. The name is +Inchkeith. Look on your maps. This visit took about an hour. We pleased +ourselves with being in a country all our own, and then went back to the +boat, and landed at Kinghorn, a mean town; and, travelling through +Kirkaldie, a very long town, meanly built, and Cowpar, which I could not +see, because it was night, we came late to St. Andrew's, the most +ancient of the Scotch universities, and once the see of the primate of +Scotland. The inn was full; but lodgings were provided for us at the +house of the professor of rhetorick, a man of elegant manners, who +showed us, in the morning, the poor remains of a stately cathedral, +demolished in Knox's reformation, and now only to be imagined, by +tracing its foundation, and contemplating the little ruins that are +left. Here was once a religious house. Two of the vaults or cellars of +the sub-prior are even yet entire. In one of them lives an old woman, +who claims an hereditary residence in it, boasting that her husband was +the sixth tenant of this gloomy mansion, in a lineal descent, and +claims, by her marriage with this lord of the cavern, an alliance with +the Bruces. Mr. Boswell staid awhile to interrogate her, because he +understood her language; she told him, that she and her cat lived +together; that she had two sons somewhere, who might, perhaps, be dead; +that, when there were quality in the town, notice was taken of her, and +that now she was neglected, but did not trouble them. Her habitation +contained all that she had; her turf, for fire, was laid in one place, +and her balls of coal-dust in another, but her bed seemed to be clean. +Boswell asked her, if she never heard any noises; but she could tell him +of nothing supernatural, though she often wandered in the night among +the graves and ruins; only she had, sometimes, notice, by dreams, of the +death of her relations. We then viewed the remains of a castle, on the +margin of the sea, in which the archbishops resided, and in which +cardinal Beatoun was killed. + +The professors, who happened to be readout in the vacation, made a +publick dinner, and treated us very kindly and respectfully. They showed +us their colleges, in one of which there is a library that, for +luminousness and elegance, may vie, at least, with the new edifice at +Streatham. But learning seems not to prosper among them; one of their +colleges has been lately alienated, and one of their churches lately +deserted. An experiment was made of planting a shrubbery in the church, +but it did not thrive. + +Why the place should thus fall to decay, I know not; for education, such +as is here to be had, is sufficiently cheap. The term, or, as they call +it, their session, lasts seven months in the year, which the students of +the highest rank and greatest expense, may pass here for twenty pounds, +in which are included board, lodging, books, and the continual +instruction of three professors. + +20th. We left St. Andrew's, well satisfied with our reception, and, +crossing the frith of Tay, came to Dundee, a dirty, despicable town. We +passed, afterwards, through Aberbrothick, famous once for an abbey, of +which there are only a few fragments left; but those fragments testify +that the fabrick was once of great extent, and of stupendous +magnificence. Two of the towers are yet standing, though shattered; into +one of them Boswell climbed, but found the stairs broken: the way into +the other we did not see, and had not time to search; I believe it might +be ascended, but the top, I think, is open. + +We lay at Montrose, a neat place, with a spacious area for the market, +and an elegant town-house. + +21st. We travelled towards Aberdeen, another university, and, in the +way, dined at lord Monboddo's, the Scotch judge, who has lately written +a strange book about the origin of language, in which he traces monkeys +up to men, and says that, in some countries, the human species have +tails like other beasts. He inquired for these long-tailed men of Banks, +and was not well pleased, that they had not been found in all his +peregrination. He talked nothing of this to me, and I hope we parted +friends; for we agreed pretty well, only we disputed in adjusting the +claims of merit between a shopkeeper of London, and a savage of the +American wildernesses. Our opinions were, I think, maintained, on both +sides, without full conviction: Monboddo declared boldly for the savage; +and I, perhaps, for that reason, sided with the citizen. + +We came late to Aberdeen, where I found my dear mistress's letter, and +learned that all our little people were happily recovered of the +measles. Every part of your letter was pleasing. + +There are two cities of the name of Aberdeen: the old town, built about +a mile inland, once the see of a bishop, which contains the king's +college, and the remains of the cathedral; and the new town, which +stands, for the sake of trade, upon a frith or arm of the sea, so that +ships rest against the quay. + +The two cities have their separate magistrates; and the two colleges +are, in effect, two universities, which confer degrees independently of +each other. + +New Aberdeen is a large town, built almost wholly of that granite which +is used for the new pavement in London, which, hard as it is, they +square with very little difficulty. Here I first saw the women in +plaids. The plaid makes, at once, a hood and cloak, without cutting or +sewing, merely by the manner of drawing the opposite sides over the +shoulders. The maids, at the inns, run over the house barefoot; and +children, not dressed in rags, go without shoes or stockings. Shoes are, +indeed, not yet in universal use; they came late into this country. One +of the professors told us, as we were mentioning a fort, built by +Cromwell, that the country owed much of its present industry to +Cromwell's soldiers. They taught us, said he, to raise cabbage, and make +shoes. How they lived without shoes may yet be seen; but, in the passage +through villages, it seems to him, that surveys their gardens, that when +they had not cabbage, they had nothing. + +Education is here of the same price as at St. Andrew's, only the session +is but from the 1st of November to the 1st of April. The academical +buildings seem rather to advance than decline. They showed their +libraries, which were not very splendid, but some manuscripts were so +exquisitely penned, that I wished my dear mistress to have seen them. I +had an unexpected pleasure, by finding an old acquaintance, now +professor of physick, in the king's college: we were, on both sides, +glad of the interview, having not seen, nor, perhaps, thought on one +another, for many years; but we had no emulation, nor had either of us +risen to the other's envy, and our old kindness was easily renewed. I +hope we shall never try the effect of so long an absence, and that I +shall always be, madam your, &c. + + +XIX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Inverness, August 28, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--August 23rd, I had the honour of attending the lord provost +of Aberdeen, and was presented with the freedom of the city, not in a +gold box, but in good Latin. Let me pay Scotland one just praise! there +was no officer gaping for a fee; this could have been said of no city on +the English side of the Tweed. I wore my patent of freedom, _pro more_, +in my hat, from the new town to the old, about a mile. I then dined with +my friend, the professor of physick, at his house, and saw the king's +college. Boswell was very angry, that the Aberdeen professors would not +talk. When I was at the English church, in Aberdeen, I happened to be +espied by lady Di. Middleton, whom I had sometime seen in London; she +told what she had seen to Mr. Boyd, lord Errol's brother, who wrote us +an invitation to lord Errol's house, called Slane's castle We went +thither on the next day, (24th of August,) and found a house, not old, +except but one tower, built on the margin of the sea, upon a rock, +scarce accessible from the sea; at one corner, a tower makes a +perpendicular continuation of the lateral surface of the rock, so that +it is impracticable to walk round; the house inclosed a square court, +and on all sides within the court is a piazza, or gallery, two stories +high. We came in, as we were invited to dinner, and, after dinner, +offered to go; but lady Errol sent us word by Mr. Boyd, that if we went +before lord Errol came home, we must never be forgiven, and ordered out +the coach to show us two curiosities. We were first conducted, by Mr. +Boyd, to Dunbuys, or the yellow rock. Dunbuys is a rock, consisting of +two protuberances, each, perhaps, one hundred yards round, joined +together by a narrow neck, and separated from the land by a very narrow +channel or gully. These rocks are the haunts of seafowl, whose clang, +though this is not their season, we heard at a distance. The eggs and +the young are gathered here, in great numbers, at the time of breeding. +There is a bird here, called a coot, which, though not much bigger than +a duck, lays a larger egg than a goose. We went then to see the Buller, +or Bouilloir, of Buchan: Buchan is the name of the district, and the +Buller is a small creek, or gulf, into which the sea flows through an +arch of the rock. We walked round it, and saw it black, at a great +depth. It has its name from the violent ebullition of the water, when +high winds or high tides drive it up the arch into the basin. Walking a +little farther, I spied some boats, and told my companions that we would +go into the Buller and examine it. There was no danger; all was calm; we +went through the arch, and found ourselves in a narrow gulf, surrounded +by craggy rocks, of height not stupendous, but, to a mediterranean +visitor, uncommon. On each side was a cave, of which the fisherman knew +not the extent, in which smugglers hide their goods, and sometimes +parties of pleasure take a dinner. I am, &c. + + +XX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, September 6, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am now looking on the sea, from a house of sir +Alexander Macdonald, in the isle of Skie. Little did I once think of +seeing this region of obscurity, and little did you once expect a +salutation from this verge of European life. I have now the pleasure of +going where nobody goes, and seeing what nobody sees. Our design is to +visit several of the smaller islands, and then pass over to the south-west +of Scotland. + +I returned from the sight of Buller's Buchan to lord Errol's, and, +having seen his library, had, for a time, only to look upon the sea, +which rolled between us and Norway. Next morning, August 25th, we +continued our journey through a country not uncultivated, but so denuded +of its woods, that, in all this journey, I had not travelled a hundred +yards between hedges, or seen five trees fit for the carpenter. A few +small plantations may be found, but I believe scarcely any thirty years +old; at least, they are all posterior to the union. This day we dined +with a country-gentleman, who has in his grounds the remains of a +Druid's temple, which, when it is complete, is nothing more than a +circle, or double circle, of stones, placed at equal distances, with a +flat stone, perhaps an altar, at a certain point, and a stone, taller +than the rest, at the opposite point. The tall stone is erected, I +think, at the south. Of these circles, there are many in all the +unfrequented parts of the island. The inhabitants of these parts respect +them as memorials of the sculpture of some illustrious person. Here I +saw a few trees. We lay at Bamff. + +August 26th. We dined at Elgin, where we saw the ruins of a noble +cathedral; the chapter-house is yet standing. A great part of Elgin is +built with small piazzas to the lower story. We went on to Foris, over +the heath where Macbeth met the witches, but had no adventure; only in +the way we saw, for the first time, some houses with fruit-trees about +them. The improvements of the Scotch are for immediate profit; they do +not yet think it quite worth their while to plant what will not produce +something to be eaten, or sold, in a very little time. We rested at +Foris. + +A very great proportion of the people are barefoot; shoes are not yet +considered as necessaries of life. It is still the custom to send out +the sons of gentlemen without them into the streets and ways. There are +more beggars than I have ever seen in England; they beg, if not +silently, yet very modestly. + +Next day we came to Nairn, a miserable town, but a royal burgh, of which +the chief annual magistrate is styled lord provost. In the neighbourhood +we saw the castle of the old thane of Cawdor. There is one ancient +tower, with its battlements and winding stairs, yet remaining; the rest +of the house is, though not modern, of later erection. + +On the 28th we went to Fort George, which is accounted the most regular +fortification in the island. The major of artillery walked with us round +the walls, and showed us the principles upon which every part was +constructed, and the way in which it could be defended. We dined with +the governour, sir Eyre Coote, and his officers. It was a very pleasant +and instructive day; but nothing puts my honoured mistress out of my +mind. + +At night we came to Inverness, the last considerable town in the north, +where we staid all the next day, for it was Sunday, and saw the ruins of +what is called Macbeth's castle. It never was a large house, but was +strongly situated. From Inverness we were to travel on horseback. + +August 30th. We set out with four horses. We had two highlanders to run +by us, who were active, officious, civil, and hardy. Our journey was, +for many miles, along a military way, made upon the banks of Lough Ness, +a water about eighteen miles long, but not, I think, half a mile broad. +Our horses were not bad, and the way was very pleasant; the rock, out of +which the road was cut, was covered with birch-trees, fern, and heath. +The lake below was beating its bank by a gentle wind, and the rocks +beyond the water, on the right, stood sometimes horrid, and wild, and +sometimes opened into a kind of bay, in which there was a spot of +cultivated ground, yellow with corn. In one part of the way we had trees +on both sides, for, perhaps, half a mile. Such a length of shade, +perhaps Scotland cannot show in any other place. + +You are not to suppose, that here are to be any more towns or inns. We +came to a cottage, which they call the General's Hut, where we alighted +to dine, and had eggs and bacon, and mutton, with wine, rum, and +whiskey. I had water. + +At a bridge over the river, which runs into the Ness the rocks rise on +three sides, with a direction almost perpendicular, to a great height; +they are, in part, covered with trees, and exhibit a kind of dreadful +magnificence:--standing like the barriers of nature, placed to keep +different orders of being in perpetual separation. Near this bridge is +the fall of Fiers, a famous cataract, of which, by clambering over the +rocks, we obtained a view. The water was low, and, therefore, we had +only the pleasure of knowing that rain would make it, at once, pleasing +and formidable; there will then be a mighty flood, foaming along a rocky +channel, frequently obstructed by protuberances, and exasperated by +reverberation, at last precipitated with a sudden descent, and lost in +the depth of a gloomy chasm. + +We came, somewhat late, to Fort Augustus, where the lieutenant-governour +met us beyond the gates, and apologized that, at that hour, he could +not, by the rules of a garrison, admit us, otherwise than at a narrow +door, which only one can enter at a time. We were well entertained and +well lodged, and, next morning, after having viewed the fort, we pursued +our journey. + +Our way now lay over the mountains, which are not to be passed by +climbing them directly, but by traversing; so that, as we went forward, +we saw our baggage following us below, in a direction exactly contrary. +There is, in these ways, much labour, but little danger, and, perhaps, +other places, of which very terrifick representations are made, are not, +in themselves, more formidable. These roads have all been made by hewing +the rock away with pickaxes, or bursting it with gunpowder. The stones, +so separated, are often piled loose, as a wall by the wayside. We saw an +inscription, importing the year in which one of the regiments made two +thousand yards of the road eastward. + +After tedious travel of some hours, we came to what, I believe, we must +call a village, a place where there were three huts built of turf; at +one of which we were to have our dinner and our bed, for we could not +reach any better place that night. This place is called Enoch in +Glenmorrison. The house, in which we lodged, was distinguished by a +chimney, the rest had only a hole for the smoke. Here we had eggs, and +mutton, and a chicken, and a sausage, and rum. In the afternoon tea was +made by a very decent girl in a printed linen: she engaged me so much, +that I made her a present of Cocker's arithmetick. I am, &c. + + +XXI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 14,1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--The post, which comes but once a week into these parts, +is so soon to go, that I have not time to go on where I left off in my +last letter. I have been several days in the island of Raarsa, and am +now again in the isle of Skie, but at the other end of it. + +Skie is almost equally divided between the two great families of +Macdonald and Macleod, other proprietors having only small districts. +The two great lords do not know, within twenty square miles, the +contents of their own territories. + +--kept up but ill the reputation of highland hospitality; we are now +with Macleod, quite at the other end of the island, where there is a +fine young gentleman and fine ladies. The ladies are studying Erse. I +have a cold, and am miserably deaf, and am troublesome to lady Macleod; +I force her to speak loud, but she will seldom speak loud enough. + +Raarsa is an island about fifteen miles long and two broad, under the +dominion of one gentleman, who has three sons and ten daughters; the +eldest is the beauty of this part of the world, and has been polished at +Edinburgh: they sing and dance, and, without expense, have upon their +table most of what sea, air, or earth can afford. I intended to have +written about Raarsa, but the post will not wait longer than while I +send my compliments to my dear master and little mistresses. I am, &c. + + +XXII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 21, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am so vexed at the necessity of sending yesterday so +short a letter, that I purpose to get a long letter beforehand, by +writing something every day, which I may the more easily do, as a cold +makes me now too deaf to take the usual pleasure in conversation. Lady +Macleod is very good to me; and the place, at which we now are, is +equal, in strength of situation, in the wildness of the adjacent +country, and in the plenty and elegance of the domestick entertainment, +to a castle in Gothick romances. The sea, with a little island, is +before us; cascades play within view. Close to the house is the +formidable skeleton of an old castle, probably Danish; and the whole +mass of building stands upon a protuberance of rock, inaccessible till +of late, but by a pair of stairs on the seaside, and secure, in ancient +times, against any enemy that was likely to invade the kingdom of Skie. + +Macleod has offered me an island; if it were not too far off, I should +hardly refuse it: my island would be pleasanter than Brighthelmstone, if +you and my master could come to it; but I cannot think it pleasant to +live quite alone, + + "Oblitusque meorum, obliviscendus et illis." + +That I should be elated, by the dominion of an island to forgetfulness +of my friends at Streatham, I cannot believe, and I hope never to +deserve that they should be willing to forget me. + +It has happened, that I have been often recognised in my journey, where +I did not expect it. At Aberdeen, I found one of my acquaintance +professor of physick: turning aside to dine with a country-gentleman, I +was owned, at table, by one who had seen me at a philosophical lecture: +at Macdonald's I was claimed by a naturalist, who wanders about the +islands to pick up curiosities: and I had once, in London, attracted the +notice of lady Macleod. I will now go on with my account. + +The highland girl made tea, and looked and talked not inelegantly; her +father was by no means an ignorant or a weak man; there were books in +the cottage, among which were some volumes of Prideaux's Connexion: this +man's conversation we were glad of while we staid. He had been out, as +they call it, in forty-five, and still retained his old opinions. He was +going to America, because his rent was raised beyond what he thought +himself able to pay. + +At night our beds were made, but we had some difficulty in persuading +ourselves to lie down in them, though we had put on our own sheets; at +last we ventured, and I slept very soundly in the vale of Glenmorrison, +amidst the rocks and mountains. Next morning our landlord liked us so +well, that he walked some miles with us for our company, through a +country so wild and barren, that the proprietor does not, with all his +pressure upon his tenants, raise more than four hundred pounds a year +for near one hundred square miles, or sixty thousand acres. He let us +know, that he had forty head of black cattle, a hundred goats, and a +hundred sheep, upon a farm that he remembered let at five pounds a year, +but for which he now paid twenty. He told us some stories of their march +into England. At last, he left us, and we went forward, winding among +mountains, sometimes green and sometimes naked, commonly so steep, as +not easily to be climbed by the greatest vigour and activity: our way +was often crossed by little rivulets, and we were entertained with small +streams trickling from the rocks, which, after heavy rains, must be +tremendous torrents. + +About noon we came to a small glen, so they call a valley, which, +compared with other places, appeared rich and fertile; here our guides +desired us to stop, that the horses might graze, for the journey was +very laborious, and no more grass would be found. We made no difficulty +of compliance, and I sat down to take notes on a green bank, with a +small stream running at my feet, in the midst of savage solitude, with +mountains before me, and, on either hand, covered with heath. I looked +around me, and wondered, that I was not more affected, but the mind is +not at all times equally ready to be put in motion; if my mistress, and +master, and Queeney had been there, we should have produced some +reflections among us, either poetical or philosophical; for though +"solitude be the nurse of woe," conversation is often the parent of +remarks and discoveries. + +In about an hour we remounted, and pursued our journey. The lake, by +which we had travelled for some time, ended in a river, which we passed +by a bridge, and came to another glen, with a collection of huts, called +Auknashealds; the huts were, generally, built of clods of earth, held +together by the intertexture of vegetable fibres, of which earth there +are great levels in Scotland, which they call mosses. Moss in Scotland +is bog in Ireland, and moss-trooper is bog-trotter; there was, however, +one hut built of loose stones, piled up, with great thickness, into a +strong, though not solid wall. From this house we obtained some great +pails of milk, and having brought bread with us, we were liberally +regaled. The inhabitants, a very coarse tribe, ignorant of any language +but Erse, gathered so fast about us, that, if we had not had highlanders +with us, they might have caused more alarm than pleasure; they are +called the clan of Macrae. + +We had been told, that nothing gratified the highlanders so much as +snuff and tobacco, and had, accordingly, stored ourselves with both at +Fort Augustus. Boswell opened his treasure, and gave them each a piece +of tobacco roll. We had more bread than we could eat for the present, +and were more liberal than provident. Boswell cut it in slices, and gave +them an opportunity of tasting wheaten bread, for the first time. I then +got some half-pence for a shilling, and made up the deficiencies of +Boswell's distribution, who had given some money among the children. We +then directed, that the mistress of the stone-house should be asked, +what we must pay her. She, who, perhaps, had never before sold any thing +but cattle, knew not, I believe, well what to ask, and referred herself +to us: we obliged her to make some demand, and one of the Highlanders +settled the account with her at a shilling. One of the men advised her, +with the cunning that clowns never can be without, to ask more; but she +said that a shilling was enough. We gave her half-a-crown, and she +offered part of it again. The Macraes were so well pleased with our +behaviour, that they declared it the best day they had seen, since the +time of the old laird of Macleod, who, I suppose, like us, stopped in +their valley, as he was travelling to Skie. + +We were mentioning this view of the highlander's life at Macdonald's, +and mentioning the Macraes, with some degree of pity, when a highland +lady informed us, that we might spare our tenderness, for she doubted +not but the woman, who supplied us with milk, was mistress of thirteen +or fourteen milch cows. + +I cannot forbear to interrupt my narrative. Boswell, with some of his +troublesome kindness, has informed this family, and reminded me, that +the 18th of September is my birthday. The return of my birthday, if I +remember it, fills me with thoughts which it seems to be the general +care of humanity to escape. I can now look back upon threescore and four +years, in which little has been done, and little has been enjoyed; a +life, diversified by misery, spent part in the sluggishness of penury, +and part under the violence of pain, in gloomy discontent, or +importunate distress. But, perhaps, I am better than I should have been, +if I had been less afflicted. With this I will try to be content. + +In proportion as there is less pleasure in retrospective considerations, +the mind is more disposed to wander forward into futurity; but, at +sixty-four, what promises, however liberal, of imaginary good can +futurity venture to make? yet something will be always promised, and +some promises will be always credited. I am hoping, and I am praying, +that I may live better in the time to come, whether long or short, than +I have yet lived, and, in the solace of that hope, endeavour to repose. +Dear Queeney's day is next: I hope she, at sixty-four, will have less to +regret. + +I will now complain no more, but tell my mistress of my travels. + +After we left the Macraes, we travelled on through a country like that +which we passed in the morning. The highlands are very uniform, for +there is little variety in universal barrenness; the rocks, however, are +not all naked, for some have grass on their sides, and birches and +alders on their tops, and in the valleys are often broad and clear +streams, which have little depth, and commonly run very quick; the +channels are made by the violence of the wintry floods; the quickness of +the stream is in proportion to the declivity of the descent, and the +breadth of the channel makes the water shallow in a dry season. + +There are red deer and roe bucks in the mountains, but we found only +goats in the road, and had very little entertainment, as we travelled, +either for the eye or ear. There are, I fancy, no singing birds in the +highlands. + +Towards night we came to a very formidable hill, called Rattiken, which +we climbed with more difficulty than we had yet experienced, and, at +last, came to Glanelg, a place on the seaside, opposite to Skie. We +were, by this time, weary and disgusted, nor was our humour much mended +by our inn, which, though it was built of lime and slate, the +highlander's description of a house, which he thinks magnificent, had +neither wine, bread, eggs, nor any thing that we could eat or drink. +When we were taken up stairs, a dirty fellow bounced out of the bed, +where one of us was to lie. Boswell blustered, but nothing could be got. +At last, a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who heard of our arrival, +sent us rum and white sugar. Boswell was now provided for, in part, and +the landlord prepared some mutton chops, which we could not eat, and +killed two hens, of which Boswell made his servant broil a limb; with +what effect I know not. We had a lemon and a piece of bread, which +supplied me with my supper. When the repast was ended, we began to +deliberate upon bed: Mrs. Boswell had warned us, that we should _catch +something_, and had given us _sheets_, for our _security_, for--and--, +she said, came back from Skie, so scratching themselves. I thought +sheets a slender defence against the confederacy with which we were +threatened, and, by this time, our Highlanders had found a place, where +they could get some hay: I ordered hay to be laid thick upon the bed, +and slept upon it in my great coat: Boswell laid sheets upon his bed, +and reposed in linen, like a gentleman. The horses were turned out to +grass, with a man to watch them. The hill Rattiken, and the inn at +Glanelg, were the only things of which we, or travellers yet more +delicate, could find any pretensions to complain. + +Sept. 2nd. I rose, rustling from the hay, and went to tea, which I +forget, whether we found or brought. We saw the isle of Skie before us, +darkening the horizon with its rocky coast. A boat was procured, and we +lanched into one of the straits of the Atlantick ocean. We had a passage +of about twelve miles to the point where--resided, having come from his +seat in the middle of the island, to a small house on the shore, as we +believe, that he might, with less reproach, entertain us meanly. If he +aspired to meanness, his retrograde ambition was completely gratified, +but he did not succeed equally in escaping reproach. He had no cook, +nor, I suppose, much provision, nor had the lady the common decencies of +her tea-table; we picked up our sugar with our fingers. Boswell was very +angry, and reproached him with his improper parsimony; I did not much +reflect upon the conduct of a man with whom I was not likely to converse +as long at any other time. + +You will now expect that I should give you some account of the isle of +Skie, of which, though I have been twelve days upon it, I have little to +say. It is an island, perhaps, fifty miles long, so much indented by +inlets of the sea, that there is no part of it removed from the water +more than six miles. No part, that I have seen, is plain; you are always +climbing or descending, and every step is upon rock or mire. A walk upon +ploughed ground in England is a dance upon carpets, compared to the +toilsome drudgery of wandering in Skie. There is neither town nor +village in the island, nor have I seen any house but Macleod's, that is +not much below your habitation at Brighthelmstone. In the mountains +there are stags and roe bucks, but no hares, and few rabbits; nor have I +seen any thing that interested me, as a zoologist, except an otter, +bigger than I thought an otter could have been. + +You are, perhaps, imagining that I am withdrawing from the gay and the +busy world, into regions of peace and pastoral felicity, and am enjoying +the relicks of the golden age; that I am surveying nature's magnificence +from a mountain, or remarking her minuter beauties on the flowery bank +of a winding rivulet; that I am invigorating myself in the sunshine, or +delighting my imagination with being hidden from the invasion of human +evils and human passions, in the darkness of a thicket; that I am busy +in gathering shells and pebbles on the shore, or contemplative on a +rock, from which I look upon the water, and consider how many waves are +rolling between me and Streatham. + +The use of travelling is to regulate imagination by reality, and, +instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are. Here are +mountains which I should once have climbed; but to climb steeps is now +very laborious, and to descend them, dangerous; and I am now content +with knowing, that, by scrambling up a rock, I shall only see other +rocks, and a wider circuit of barren desolation. Of streams, we have +here a sufficient number; but they murmur not upon pebbles, but upon +rocks. Of flowers, if Chloris herself were here, I could present her +only with the bloom of heath. Of lawns and thickets, he must read that +would know them, for here is little sun, and no shade. On the sea I look +from my window, but am not much tempted to the shore; for since I came +to this island, almost every breath of air has been a storm, and, what +is worse, a storm with all its severity, but without its magnificence, +for the sea is here so broken into channels, that there is not a +sufficient volume of water either for lofty surges, or a loud roar. + +On Sept. 6th, we left--to visit Raarsa, the island which I have already +mentioned. We were to cross part of Skie on horseback; a mode of +travelling very uncomfortable, for the road is so narrow, where any road +can be found, that only one can go, and so craggy, that the attention +can never be remitted; it allows, therefore, neither the gaiety of +conversation, nor the laxity of solitude; nor has it, in itself, the +amusement of much variety, as it affords only all the possible +transpositions of bog, rock, and rivulet. Twelve miles, by computation, +make a reasonable journey for a day. + +At night we came to a tenant's house, of the first rank of tenants, +where we were entertained better than at the landlord's. There were +books, both English and Latin. Company gathered about us, and we heard +some talk of the second sight, and some talk of the events of forty-five; +a year which will not soon be forgotten among the islanders. The +next day we were confined by a storm. The company, I think, increased, +and our entertainment was not only hospitable, but elegant. At night, a +minister's sister, in very fine brocade, sung Erse songs; I wished to +know the meaning; but the highlanders are not much used to scholastick +questions, and no translations could be obtained. + +Next day, Sept. 8th, the weather allowed us to depart; a good boat was +provided us, and we went to Raarsa, under the conduct of Mr. Malcolm +Macleod, a gentleman who conducted prince Charles through the mountains +in his distresses. The prince, he says, was more active than himself; +they were, at least, one night without any shelter. + +The wind blew enough to give the boat a kind of dancing agitation, and, +in about three or four hours, we arrived at Raarsa, where we were met by +the laird, and his friends, upon the shore. Raarsa, for such is his +title, is master of two islands; upon the smaller of which, called Rona, +he has only flocks and herds. Rona gives title to his eldest son. The +money which he raises annually by rent from all his dominions, which +contain, at least, fifty thousand acres, is not believed to exceed two +hundred and fifty pounds; but, as he keeps a large farm in his own +hands, he sells, every year, great numbers of cattle, which add to his +revenue, and his table is furnished from the farm and from the sea, with +very little expense, except for those things this country does not +produce, and of those he is very liberal. The wine circulates +vigorously; and the tea, chocolate, and coffee, however they are got, +are always at hand. I am, &c. + +We are this morning trying to get out of Skie. + + +XXIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 24, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am still in Skie. Do you remember the song, + + "Every island is a prison, + Strongly guarded by the sea." + +We have, at one time, no boat, and, at another, may have too much wind; +but, of our reception here, we have no reason to complain. We are now +with colonel Macleod, in a more pleasant place than I thought Skie could +afford. Now to the narrative. + +We were received at Raarsa on the seaside, and after clambering, with +some difficulty, over the rocks, a labour which the traveller, wherever +he reposes himself on land, must, in these islands, be contented to +endure; we were introduced into the house, which one of the company +called the court of Raarsa, with politeness, which not the court of +Versailles could have thought defective. The house is not large, though +we were told, in our passage, that it had eleven fine rooms, nor +magnificently furnished; but our utensils were, most commonly, silver. +We went up into a dining-room, about as large as your blue room, where +we had something given us to eat, and tea and coffee. + +Raarsa himself is a man of no inelegant appearance, and of manners +uncommonly refined. Lady Raarsa makes no very sublime appearance for a +sovereign, but is a good housewife, and a very prudent and diligent +conductress of her family. Miss Flora Macleod is a celebrated beauty; +has been admired at Edinburgh; dresses her head very high; and has +manners so lady-like, that I wish her head-dress was lower. The rest of +the nine girls are all pretty; the youngest is between Queeney and Lucy. +The youngest boy, of four years old, runs barefoot, and wandered with us +over the rocks to see a mill: I believe he would walk on that rough +ground, without shoes, ten miles in a day. + +The laird of Raarsa has sometimes disputed the chieftainry of the clan +with Macleod of Skie, but, being much inferiour in extent of +possessions, has, I suppose, been forced to desist. Raarsa, and its +provinces, have descended to its present possessour, through a +succession of four hundred years, without any increase or diminution. It +was, indeed, lately in danger of forfeiture, but the old laird joined +some prudence with his zeal, and when prince Charles landed in Scotland, +made over his estate to this son, the present laird, and led one hundred +men of Raarsa into the field, with officers of his own family. Eighty-six +only came back after the last battle. The prince was hidden, in his +distress, two nights at Raarsa, and the king's troops burnt the whole +country, and killed some of the cattle. + +You may guess at the opinions that prevail in this country; they are, +however, content with fighting for their king; they do not drink for +him. We had no foolish healths. At night, unexpectedly to us, who were +strangers, the carpet was taken up; the fiddler of the family came up, +and a very vigorous and general dance was begun. As I told you, we were +two and thirty at supper; there were full as many dancers; for, though +all who supped did not dance, some danced of the young people who did +not sup. Raarsa himself danced with his children, and old Malcolm, in +his fillibeg, was as nimble, as when he led the prince over the +mountains. When they had danced themselves weary, two tables were +spread, and, I suppose, at least twenty dishes were upon them. In this +country, some preparations of milk are always served up at supper, and +sometimes, in the place of tarts, at dinner. The table was not coarsely +heaped, but, at once, plentiful and elegant. They do not pretend to make +a loaf; there are only cakes, commonly of oats or barley, but they made +me very nice cakes of wheat flour. I always sat at the left hand of lady +Raarsa; and young Macleod of Skie, the chieftain of the clan, sat on the +right. + +After supper, a young lady, who was visiting, sung Erse songs, in which +lady Raarsa joined, prettily enough, but not gracefully; the young +ladies sustained the chorus better. They are very little used to be +asked questions, and not well prepared with answers. When one of the +songs was over, I asked the princess, that sat next to me, "What is that +about?" I question if she conceived that I did not understand it. "For +the entertainment of the company," said she. "But, madam, what is the +meaning of it?" "It is a love song." This was all the intelligence that +I could obtain; nor have I been able to procure the translation of a +single line of Erse. + +At twelve it was bed-time. I had a chamber to myself, which, in eleven +rooms to forty people, was more than my share. How the company and the +family were distributed, is not easy to tell. Macleod, the chieftain, +and Boswell, and I, had all single chambers, on the first floor. There +remained eight rooms only, for, at least, seven and thirty lodgers. I +suppose they put up temporary beds in the dining-room, where they stowed +all the young ladies. There was a room above stairs with six beds, in +which they put ten men. The rest in my next. + + +XXIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ostich in Skie, Sept. 30, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am still confined in Skie. We were unskilful +travellers, and imagined that the sea was an open road, which we could +pass at pleasure; but we have now learned, with some pain, that we may +still wait, for a long time, the caprices of the equinoctial winds, and +sit reading or writing, as I now do, while the tempest is rolling the +sea, or roaring in the mountains. I am now no longer pleased with the +delay; you can hear from me but seldom, and I cannot at all hear from +you. It comes into my mind, that some evil may happen, or that I might +be of use while I am away. But these thoughts are vain; the wind is +violent and adverse, and our boat cannot yet come. I must content myself +with writing to you, and hoping that you will sometime receive my +letter. Now to my narrative. + +Sept. 9th. Having passed the night as is usual, I rose, and found the +dining-room full of company; we feasted and talked, and when the evening +came it brought musick and dancing. Young Macleod, the great proprietor +of Skie, and head of his clan, was very distinguishable; a young man of +nineteen, bred awhile at St. Andrew's, and afterwards at Oxford, a pupil +of G. Strahan. He is a young man of a mind, as much advanced as I have +ever known; very elegant of manners, and very graceful in his person. He +has the full spirit of a feudal chief; and I was very ready to accept +his invitation to Dunvegan. All Raarsa's children are beautiful. The +ladies, all, except the eldest, are in the morning dressed in their +hair. The true highlander never wears more than a riband on her head, +till she is married. + +On the third day Boswell went out, with old Malcolm, to see a ruined +castle, which he found less entire than was promised, but he saw the +country. I did not go, for the castle was, perhaps, ten miles off, and +there is no riding at Raarsa, the whole island being rock or mountain, +from which the cattle often fall, and are destroyed. It is very barren, +and maintains, as near as I could collect, about seven hundred +inhabitants, perhaps ten to a square mile. In these countries you are +not to suppose that you shall find villages or inclosures. The traveller +wanders through a naked desert, gratified sometimes, but rarely, with +the sight of cows, and now and then finds a heap of loose stones and +turf, in a cavity between rocks, where a being, born with all those +powers which education expands, and all those sensations which culture +refines, is condemned to shelter itself from the wind and rain. +Philosophers there are, who try to make themselves believe, that this +life is happy; but they believe it only while they are saying it, and +never yet produced conviction in a single mind; he whom want of words or +images sunk into silence still thought, as he thought before, that +privation of pleasure can never please, and that content is not to be +much envied, when it has no other principle than ignorance of good. + +This gloomy tranquillity, which some may call fortitude, and others, +wisdom, was, I believe, for a long time, to be very frequently found in +these dens of poverty; every man was content to live like his +neighbours, and, never wandering from home, saw no mode of life +preferable to his own, except at the house of the laird, or the laird's +nearest relations, whom he considered as a superiour order of beings, to +whose luxuries or honours he had no pretensions. But the end of this +reverence and submission seems now approaching; the highlanders have +learned, that there are countries less bleak and barren than their own, +where, instead of working for the laird, every man will till his own +ground, and eat the produce of his own labour. Great numbers have been +induced, by this discovery, to go, every year, for some time past, to +America. Macdonald and Macleod, of Skie, have lost many tenants and many +labourers; but Raarsa has not yet been forsaken by a single inhabitant. + +Rona is yet more rocky and barren than Raarsa, and, though it contains, +perhaps, four thousand acres, is possessed only by a herd of cattle and +the keepers. + +I find myself not very able to walk upon the mountains, but one day I +went out to see the walls, yet standing, of an ancient chapel. In almost +every island the superstitious votaries of the Romish church erected +places of worship, in which the drones of convents, or cathedrals, +performed the holy offices; but, by the active zeal of protestant +devotion, almost all of them have sunk into ruin. The chapel at Raarsa +is now only considered as the burying-place of the family, and, I +suppose, of the whole island. + +We would now have gone away, and left room for others to enjoy the +pleasures of this little court; but the wind detained us till the 12th, +when, though it was Sunday, we thought it proper to snatch the +opportunity of a calm day. Raarsa accompanied us in his six-oared boat, +which, he said, was his coach and six. It is, indeed, the vehicle in +which the ladies take the air, and pay their visits, but they have taken +very little care for accommodations. There is no way, in or out of the +boat, for a woman, but by being carried; and in the boat thus dignified +with a pompous name, there is no seat, but an occasional bundle of +straw. Thus we left Raarsa; the seat of plenty, civility, and +cheerfulness. + +We dined at a publick house at Port Re; so called, because one of the +Scottish kings landed there, in a progress through the western isles. +Raarsa paid the reckoning privately. We then got on horseback, and, by a +short, but very tedious journey, came to Kingsburgh, at which the same +king lodged, after he landed. Here I had the honour of saluting the +far-famed Miss Flora Macdonald, who conducted the prince, dressed as her +maid, through the English forces, from the island of Lewes; and, when +she came to Skie, dined with the English officers, and left her maid +below. She must then have been a very young lady; she is now not old; of +a pleasing person, and elegant behaviour. She told me, that she thought +herself honoured by my visit; and, I am sure, that whatever regard she +bestowed on me was liberally repaid. "If thou likest her opinions, thou +wilt praise her virtue." She was carried to London, but dismissed +without a trial, and came down with Malcolm Macleod, against whom +sufficient evidence could not be procured. She and her husband are poor, +and are going to try their fortune in America: + + "Sic rerum volvitur orbis." + +At Kingsburgh we were very liberally feasted, and I slept in the bed in +which the prince reposed in his distress; the sheets which he used were +never put to any meaner offices, but were wrapped up by the lady of the +house, and at last, according to her desire, were laid round her in her +grave. These are not whigs. + +On the 13th, travelling partly on horseback, where we could not row, and +partly on foot, where we could not ride, we came to Dunvegan, which I +have described already. Here, though poor Macleod had been left by his +grandfather overwhelmed with debts, we had another exhibition of feudal +hospitality. There were two stags in the house, and venison came to the +table every day in its various forms. Macleod, besides his estate in +Skie, larger, I suppose, than some English counties, is proprietor of +nine inhabited isles; and, of his islands uninhabited, I doubt if he +very exactly knows the number. I told him that he was a mighty monarch. +Such dominions fill an Englishman with envious wonder; but, when he +surveys the naked mountains, and treads the quaking moor, and wanders +over the wild regions of gloomy barrenness, his wonder may continue, but +his envy ceases. The unprofitableness of these vast domains can be +conceived only by the means of positive instances. The heir of Col, an +island not far distant, has lately told me, how wealthy he should be, if +he could let Rum, another of his islands, for twopence halfpenny an +acre; and Macleod has an estate, which the surveyor reports to contain +eighty thousand acres, rented at six hundred pounds a year. + +While we were at Dunvegan, the wind was high, and the rain violent, so +that we were not able to put forth a boat to fish in the sea, or to +visit the adjacent islands, which may be seen from the house; but we +filled up the time, as we could, sometimes by talk, sometimes by +reading. I have never wanted books in the isle of Skie. + +We were invited one day by the laird and lady of Muck, one of the +western islands, two miles long, and three quarters of a mile high. He +has half his island in his own culture, and upon the other half live one +hundred and fifty dependants, who not only live upon the product, but +export corn sufficient for the payment of their rent. + +Lady Macleod has a son and four daughters; they have lived long in +England, and have the language and manners of English ladies. We lived +with them very easily. The hospitality of this remote region is like +that of the golden age. We have found ourselves treated, at every house, +as if we came to confer a benefit. + +We were eight days at Dunvegan, but we took the first opportunity which +the weather afforded, after the first days, of going away, and, on the +21st, went to Ulinish, where we were well entertained, and wandered a +little after curiosities. In the afternoon, an interval of calm sunshine +courted us out, to see a cave on the shore, famous for its echo. When we +went into the boat, one of our companions was asked, in Erse, by the +boatmen, who they were, that came with him. He gave us characters, I +suppose, to our advantage, and was asked, in the spirit of the +highlands, whether I could recite a long series of ancestors. The +boatmen said, as I perceived afterwards, that they heard the cry of an +English ghost. This, Boswell says, disturbed him. We came to the cave, +and, clambering up the rocks, came to an arch, open at one end, one +hundred and eighty feet long, thirty broad, in the broadest part, and +about thirty high. There was no echo: such is the fidelity of report; +but I saw, what I had never seen before, muscles and whilks, in their +natural state. There was another arch in the rock, open at both ends. + +September 23rd. We removed to Talisker, a house occupied by Mr. Macleod, +a lieutenant colonel in the Dutch service. Talisker has been long in the +possession of gentlemen, and, therefore, has a garden well cultivated, +and, what is here very rare, is shaded by trees; a place where the +imagination is more amused cannot easily be found. The mountains about +it are of great height, with waterfalls succeeding one another so fast, +that as one ceases to be heard, another begins. Between the mountains +there is a small valley, extending to the sea, which is not far off, +beating upon a coast, very difficult of access. + +Two nights before our arrival, two boats were driven upon this coast by +the tempest; one of them had a pilot that knew the passage; the second +followed, but a third missed the true course, and was driven forward, +with great danger of being forced into the vast ocean, but, however, +gained, at last, some other island. The crews crept to Talisker, almost +lifeless with wet, cold, fatigue, and terrour, but the lady took care of +them. She is a woman of more than common qualifications; having +travelled with her husband, she speaks four languages. + +You find, that all the islanders, even in these recesses of life, are +not barbarous. One of the ministers, who has adhered to us almost all +the time, is an excellent scholar. We have now with us the young laird +of Col, who is heir, perhaps, to two hundred square miles of land. He +has first studied at Aberdeen, and afterwards gone to Hertfordshire, to +learn agriculture, being much impressed with desire of improvement; he, +likewise, has the notions of a chief, and keeps a piper. At Macleod's +the bagpipe always played, while we were dining. + +Col has undertaken, by permission of the waves and wind, to carry us +about several of the islands, with which he is acquainted enough to show +us whatever curious is given by nature, or left by antiquity; but we +grew afraid of deviating from our way home, lest we should be shut up +for months upon some little protuberance of rock, that just appears +above the sea, and, perhaps, is scarcely marked upon a map. + +You remember the doge of Genoa, who being asked, what struck him most at +the French court, answered, "myself." I cannot think many things here +more likely to affect the fancy, than to see Johnson ending his +sixty-fourth year in the wilderness of the Hebrides. But now I am here, it +will gratify me very little to return without seeing, or doing my best +to see, what those places afford. I have a desire to instruct myself in +the whole system of pastoral life, but I know not whether I shall be +able to perfect the idea. However, I have many pictures in my mind, +which I could not have had without this journey, and should have passed +it with great pleasure, had you, and master, and Queeney, been in the +party. We should have excited the attention, and enlarged the +observation of each other, and obtained many pleasing topicks of future +conversation. As it is, I travel with my mind too much at home, and, +perhaps, miss many things worthy of observation, or pass them with +transient notice; so that the images, for want of that reimpression +which discussion and comparison produce, easily fade away; but I keep a +book of remarks, and Boswell writes a regular journal of our travels, +which, I think, contains as much of what I say and do, as of all other +occurrences together; "for such a faithful chronicler as Griffith." + +I hope, dearest madam, you are equally careful to reposit proper +memorials of all that happens to you and your family, and then, when we +meet, we shall tell our stories. I wish you had gone this summer, in +your usual splendour, to Brighthelmstone. + +Mr. Thrale probably wonders, how I live all this time without sending to +him for money. Travelling in Scotland is dear enough, dearer, in +proportion to what the country affords, than in England, but residence +in the isles is unexpensive. Company is, I think, considered as a supply +of pleasure, and a relief of that tediousness of life which is felt in +every place, elegant or rude. Of wine and punch they are very liberal, +for they get them cheap; but as there is no custom-house on the island, +they can hardly be considered as smugglers. Their punch is made without +lemons, or any substitute. + +Their tables are very plentiful; but a very nice man would not be +pampered. As they have no meat but as they kill it, they are obliged to +live, while it lasts, upon the same flesh. They kill a sheep, and set +mutton boiled and roast on the table together. They have fish, both of +the sea and of the brooks; but they can hardly conceive that it requires +any sauce. To sauce, in general, they are strangers: now and then butter +is melted, but I dare not always take, lest I should offend by disliking +it. Barley broth is a constant dish, and is made well in every house. A +stranger, if he is prudent, will secure his share, for it is not certain +that he will be able to eat any thing else. + +Their meat, being often newly killed, is very tough, and, as nothing is +sufficiently subdued by the fire, is not easily to be eaten. Carving is +here a very laborious employment, for the knives are never whetted. +Table knives are not of long subsistence in the highlands: every man, +while arms were a regular part of dress, had his knife and fork +appendant to his dirk. Knives they now lay upon the table, but the +handles are apt to show that they have been in other hands, and the +blades have neither brightness nor edge. + +Of silver, there is no want, and it will last long, for it is never +cleaned. They are a nation just rising from barbarity: long contented +with necessaries, now somewhat studious of convenience, but not yet +arrived at delicate discriminations. Their linen is, however, both clean +and fine. Bread, such as we mean by that name, I have never seen in the +isle of Skie. They have ovens, for they bake their pies; but they never +ferment their meal, nor mould a loaf. Cakes of oats and barley are +brought to the table, but I believe wheat is reserved for strangers. +They are commonly too hard for me, and, therefore, I take potatoes to my +meat, and am sure to find them on almost every table. + +They retain so much of the pastoral life, that some preparation of milk +is commonly one of the dishes, both at dinner and supper. Tea is always +drunk at the usual times; but, in the morning, the table is polluted +with a plate of slices of strong cheese. This is peculiar to the +highlands; at Edinburgh there are always honey and sweetmeats on the +morning tea-table. + +Strong liquors they seem to love. Every man, perhaps, woman, begins the +day with a dram; and the punch is made both at dinner and supper. + +They have neither wood nor coal for fuel, but burn peat or turf in their +chimneys. It is dug out of the moors or mosses, and makes a strong and +lasting fire, not always very sweet, and somewhat apt to smoke the pot. + +The houses of inferiour gentlemen are very small, and every room serves +many purposes. In the bed-rooms, perhaps, are laid up stores of +different kinds; and the parlour of the day is a bed-room at night. In +the room which I inhabited last, about fourteen feet square, there were +three chests of drawers, a long chest for larger clothes, two +closet-cupboards, and the bed. Their rooms are commonly dirty, of which +they seem to have little sensibility, and if they had more, clean floors +would be difficultly kept, where the first step from the door is into +the dirt. They are very much inclined to carpets, and seldom fail to lay +down something under their feet, better or worse, as they happen to be +furnished. + +The highland dress, being forbidden by law, is very little used; +sometimes it may be seen, but the English traveller is struck with +nothing so much as the _nudité des pieds_ of the common people. + +Skie is the greatest island, or the greatest but one, among the +Hebrides. Of the soil, I have already given some account: it is +generally barren, but some spots are not wholly unfruitful. The gardens +have apples and pears, cherries, strawberries, raspberries, currants, +and gooseberries, but all the fruit, that I have seen, is small. They +attempt to sow nothing but oats and barley. Oats constitute the bread-corn +of the place. Their harvest is about the beginning of October; and, +being so late, is very much subject to disappointments from the rains +that follow the equinox. This year has been particularly disastrous. +Their rainy season lasts from autumn to spring. They have seldom very +hard frosts; nor was it ever known that a lake was covered with ice +strong enough to bear a skater. The sea round them is always open. The +snow falls, but soon melts; only in 1771, they had a cold spring, in +which the island was so long covered with it, that many beasts, both +wild and domestick, perished, and the whole country was reduced to +distress, from which I know not if it is even yet recovered. + +The animals here are not remarkably small; perhaps they recruit their +breed from the mainland. The cows are sometimes without horns. The +horned and unhorned cattle are not accidental variations, but different +species: they will, however, breed together. + +October 3rd. The wind is now changed, and if we snatch the moment of +opportunity, an escape from this island is become practicable; I have no +reason to complain of my reception, yet I long to be again at home. + +You and my master may, perhaps, expect, after this description of Skie, +some account of myself. My eye is, I am afraid, not fully recovered; my +ears are not mended; my nerves seem to grow weaker, and I have been +otherwise not as well as I sometimes am, but think myself, lately, +better. This climate, perhaps, is not within my degree of healthy +latitude. + +Thus I have given my most honoured mistress the story of me and my +little ramble. We are now going to some other isle, to what we know not; +the wind will tell us. I am, &c. + + +XXV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Mull, Oct. 15, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--Though I have written to Mr. Thrale, yet having a little +more time than was promised me, I would not suffer the messenger to go +without some token of my duty to my mistress, who, I suppose, expects +the usual tribute of intelligence, a tribute which I am not very able to +pay. + +October 3rd. After having been detained, by storms, many days in Skie, +we left it, as we thought, with a fair wind; but a violent gust, which +Bos. had a great mind to call a tempest, forced us into Col, an obscure +island; on which + +--"nulla campis Arbor aestiva recreatur aura." + +There is literally no tree upon the island, part of it is a sandy waste, +over which it would be really dangerous to travel in dry weather, and +with a high wind. It seems to be little more than one continued rock, +covered, from space to space, with a thin layer of earth. It is, +however, according to the highland notion, very populous, and life is +improved beyond the manners of Skie; for the huts are collected into +little villages, and every one has a small garden of roots and cabbage. +The laird has a new house built by his uncle, and an old castle +inhabited by his ancestors. The young laird entertained us very +liberally; he is heir, perhaps, to three hundred square miles of land, +which, at ten shillings an acre, would bring him ninety-six thousand +pounds a year. He is desirous of improving the agriculture of his +country; and, in imitation of the czar, travelled for improvement, and +worked, with his own hands, upon a farm in Hertfordshire, in the +neighbourhood of your uncle, sir Thomas Salusbury. He talks of doing +useful things, and has introduced turnips for winter fodder. He has made +a small essay towards a road. + +Col is but a barren place. Description has here few opportunities of +spreading her colours. The difference of day and night is the only +vicissitude. The succession of sunshine to rain, or of calms to +tempests, we have not known; wind and rain have been our only weather. + +At last, after about nine days, we hired a sloop; and having lain in it +all night, with such accommodations as these miserable vessels can +afford, were landed yesterday on the isle of Mull; from which we expect +an easy passage into Scotland. I am sick in a ship, but recover by lying +down. + +I have not good health; I do not find that travelling much helps me. My +nights are flatulent, though not in the utmost degree, and I have a +weakness in my knees, which makes me very unable to walk. Pray, dear +madam, let me have a long letter. I am, &c. + + +XXVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Inverary, Oct. 24, 1773. + +HONOURED MISTRESS,--My last letters to you, and my dear master, were +written from Mull, the third island of the Hebrides in extent. There is +no post, and I took the opportunity of a gentleman's passage to the +mainland. + +In Mull we were confined two days by the weather; on the third we got on +horseback, and, after a journey, difficult and tedious, over rocks +naked, and valleys untracked, through a country of barrenness and +solitude, we came, almost in the dark, to the seaside, weary and +dejected, having met with nothing but water falling from the mountains +that could raise any image of delight. Our company was the young laird +of Col, and his servant. Col made every Maclean open his house, where he +came, and supply us with horses, when we departed; but the horses of +this country are small, and I was not mounted to my wish. + +At the seaside we found the ferryboat departed; if it had been where it +was expected, the wind was against us, and the hour was late, nor was it +very desirable to cross the sea, in darkness, with a small boat. The +captain of a sloop, that had been driven thither by the storms, saw our +distress, and, as we were hesitating and deliberating, sent his boat, +which, by Col's order, transported us to the isle of Ulva. We were +introduced to Mr. Macquarry, the head of a small clan, whose ancestors +have reigned in Ulva beyond memory, but who has reduced himself, by his +negligence and folly, to the necessity of selling this venerable +patrimony. + +On the next morning we passed the strait to Inch Kenneth, an island +about a mile in length, and less than half a mile broad; in which +Kenneth, a Scottish saint, established a small clerical college, of +which the chapel walls are still standing. At this place I beheld a +scene, which I wish you, and my master, and Queeney had partaken. + +The only family on the island is that of sir Allan, the chief of the +ancient and numerous clan of Maclean; the clan which claims the second +place, yielding only to Macdonald in the line of battle. Sir Allan, a +chieftain, a baronet, and a soldier, inhabits, in this insulated desert, +a thatched hut, with no chambers. Young Col, who owns him as his chief, +and whose cousin was his lady, had, I believe, given him some notice of +our visit; he received us with the soldier's frankness, and the +gentleman's elegance, and introduced us to his daughters, two young +ladies, who have not wanted education suitable to their birth, and who, +in their cottage, neither forgot their dignity, nor affected to remember +it. Do not you wish to have been with us? + +Sir Allan's affairs are in disorder, by the fault of his ancestors: and, +while he forms some scheme for retrieving them, he has retreated hither. + +When our salutations were over, he showed us the island. We walked, +uncovered, into the chapel, and saw, in the reverend ruin, the effects +of precipitate reformation. The floor is covered with ancient +grave-stones, of which the inscriptions are not now legible; and without, +some of the chief families still continue the right of sepulture. The +altar is not yet quite demolished; beside it, on the right side, is a +bass-relief of the virgin with her child, and an angel hovering over her. +On the other side still stands a hand-bell, which, though it has no +clapper, neither presbyterian bigotry, nor barbarian wantonness, has yet +taken away. The chapel is thirty-eight feet long, and eighteen broad. +Boswell, who is very pious, went into it at night, to perform his +devotions, but came back, in haste, for fear of spectres. Near the +chapel is a fountain, to which the water, remarkably pure, is conveyed +from a distant hill, through pipes laid by the Romish clergy, which +still perform the office of conveyance, though they have never been +repaired, since popery was suppressed. + +We soon after went in to dinner, and wanted neither the comforts nor the +elegancies of life. There were several dishes, and variety of liquors. +The servants live in another cottage; in which, I suppose, the meat is +dressed. + +Towards evening, sir Allan told us, that Sunday never passed over him, +like another day. One of the ladies read, and read very well, the +evening service;--and paradise was opened in the wild. + +Next day, 18th, we went and wandered among the rocks on the shore, while +the boat was busy in catching oysters, of which there is a great bed. +Oysters lie upon the sand, one, I think, sticking to another, and +cockles are found a few inches under the sand. + +We then went in the boat to Sondiland, a little island very near. We +found it a wild rock, of about ten acres; part naked, part covered with +sand, out of which we picked shells; and part clothed with a thin layer +of mould, on the grass of which a few sheep are sometimes fed. We then +came back and dined. I passed part of the afternoon in reading, and in +the evening one of the ladies played on her harpsichord, and Boswell and +Col danced a reel with the other. + +On the 19th, we persuaded sir Allan to lanch his boat again, and go with +us to Icolmkill, where the first great preacher of Christianity to the +Scots built a church, and settled a monastery. In our way we stopped to +examine a very uncommon cave on the coast of Mull. We had some +difficulty to make our way over the vast masses of broken rocks that lie +before the entrance, and at the mouth were embarrassed with stones, +which the sea had accumulated, as at Brighthelmstone; but, as we +advanced, we reached a floor of soft sand, and, as we left the light +behind us, walked along a very spacious cavity, vaulted over head with +an arch almost regular, by which a mountain was sustained, at least a +very lofty rock. From this magnificent cavern, went a narrow passage to +the right hand, which we entered with a candle; and though it was +obstructed with great stones, clambered over them to a second expansion +of the cave, in which there lies a great square stone, which might serve +as a table. The air here was very warm, but not oppressive, and the +flame of the candle continued pyramidal. The cave goes onward to an +unknown extent, but we were now one hundred and sixty yards under +ground; we had but one candle, and had never heard of any that went +farther and came back; we, therefore, thought it prudent to return. + +Going forward in our boat, we came to a cluster of rocks, black and +horrid, which sir Allan chose for the place where he would eat his +dinner. We climbed till we got seats. The stores were opened, and the +repast taken. + +We then entered the boat again; the night came upon us; the wind rose; +the sea swelled; and Boswell desired to be set on dry ground: we, +however, pursued our navigation, and passed by several little islands in +the silent solemnity of faint moonshine, seeing little, and hearing only +the wind and the water. At last, we reached the island, the venerable +seat of ancient sanctity; where secret piety reposed, and where falling +greatness was reposited. The island has no house of entertainment, and +we manfully made our bed in a farmer's barn. The description I hope to +give you another time. I am, &c. + + +XXVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, Nov. 12, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Among the possibilities of evil, which my imagination +suggested at this distance, I missed that which has really happened. I +never had much hope of a will in your favour, but was willing to believe +that no will would have been made. The event is now irrevocable; it +remains only to bear it. Not to wish it had been different, is +impossible; but as the wish is painful without use, it is not prudent, +perhaps, not lawful, to indulge it. As life, and vigour of mind, and +sprightliness of imagination, and flexibility of attention, are given us +for valuable and useful purposes, we must not think ourselves at liberty +to squander life, to enervate intellectual strength, to cloud our +thoughts, or fix our attention, when, by all this expense, we know that +no good can be produced. Be alone as little as you can; when you are +alone, do not suffer your thoughts to dwell on what you might have done, +to prevent this disappointment. You, perhaps, could not have done what +you imagine, or might have done it without effect. But even to think in +the most reasonable manner, is, for the present, not so useful, as not +to think. Remit yourself solemnly into the hands of God, and then turn +your mind upon the business and amusements which lie before you. "All is +best," says Chene, "as it has been, excepting the errours of our own +free will." Burton concludes his long book upon Melancholy, with this +important precept: "Be not solitary; be not idle." Remember Chene's +position, and observe Burton's precept. + +We came hither on the ninth of this month. I long to come under your +care, but, for some days, cannot decently get away. They congratulate +our return, as if we had been with Phipps, or Banks; I am ashamed of +their salutations. + +I have been able to collect very little for Queeney's cabinet; but she +will not want toys now, she is so well employed. I wish her success; and +am not without some thought of becoming her schoolfellow. I have got an +Italian Rasselas. + +Surely my dear Lucy will recover; I wish, I could do her good. I love +her very much; and should love another godchild, if I might have the +honour of standing to the next baby. I am, &c. + + +XXVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, Nov. 18, 1773. + +MY DEAREST MISTRESS,--This is the last letter that I shall write; while +you are reading it, I shall be coming home. + +I congratulate you upon your boy; but you must not think that I will +love him, all at once, as well as I love Harry; for Harry, you know, is +so rational. I shall love him by degrees. + +Poor, pretty, dear Lucy! Can nothing do her good? I am sorry to lose +her. But, if she must be taken from us, let us resign her, with +confidence, into the hands of him who knows, and who only knows, what is +best both for us and her. + +Do not suffer yourself to be dejected. Resolution and diligence will +supply all that is wanting, and all that is lost. But if your health +should be impaired, I know not where to find a substitute. I shall have +no mistress; Mr. Thrale will have no wife; and the little flock will +have no mother. + +I long to be home, and have taken a place in the coach for Monday; I +hope, therefore, to be in London on Friday, the 26th, in the evening. +Please to let Mrs. Williams know. I am, &c. + + +XXIX.--To THE SAME. + +Lichfield, June 23, 1775. + +DEAR MADAM,--Now I hope you are thinking: Shall I have a letter to-day +from Lichfield? Something of a letter you will have; how else can I +expect that you should write? and the morning, on which I should miss a +letter, would be a morning of uneasiness, notwithstanding all that would +be said or done by the sisters of Stowhill, who do and say whatever good +they can. They give me good words, and cherries, and strawberries. Lady +****, and her mother and sister, were visiting there yesterday, and +Lady ---- took her tea before her mother. + +Mrs. Cobb is to come to Miss Porter's this afternoon. Miss A--comes +little near me. Mr. Langley, of Ashbourne, was here to-day, in his way +to Birmingham, and every body talks of you. + +The ladies of the Amicable society are to walk, in a few days, from the +townhall to the cathedral, in procession, to hear a sermon. They walk in +linen gowns, and each has a stick, with an acorn; but for the acorn they +could give no reason, till I told them of the civick crown. + +I have just had your sweet letter, and am glad that you are to be at the +regatta. You know how little I love to have you left out of any shining +part of life. You have every right to distinction, and should, +therefore, be distinguished. You will see a show with philosophick +superiority, and, therefore, may see it safely. It is easy to talk of +sitting at home, contented, when others are seeing, or making shows. +But, not to have been where it is supposed, and seldom supposed falsely, +that all would go if they could; to be able to say nothing, when every +one is talking; to have no opinion, when every one is judging; to hear +exclamations of rapture, without power to depress; to listen to +falsehoods, without right to contradict, is, after all, a state of +temporary inferiority, in which the mind is rather hardened by +stubbornness, than supported by fortitude. If the world be worth +winning, let us enjoy it; if it is to be despised, let us despise it by +conviction. But the world is not to be despised, but as it is compared +with something better. Company is, in itself, better than solitude, and +pleasure better than indolence: "Ex nihilo nihil fit," says the moral, +as well as the natural, philosopher. By doing nothing, and by knowing +nothing, no power of doing good can be obtained. He must mingle with the +world, that desires to be useful. Every new scene impresses new ideas, +enriches the imagination, and enlarges the power of reason, by new +topicks of comparison. You, that have seen the regatta, will have +images, which we, who miss it, must want; and no intellectual images are +without use. But, when you are in this scene of splendour and gaiety, do +not let one of your fits of negligence steal upon you. "Hoc age," is the +great rule, whether you are serious or merry; whether you are stating +the expenses of your family, learning science, or duty, from a folio, or +floating on the Thames in a fancied dress. Of the whole entertainment, +let me not hear so copious, nor so true an account, from any body as +from you. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +XXX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sure I write and write, and every letter that comes +from you charges me with not writing. Since I wrote to Queeney I have +written twice to you, on the 6th and the 9th: be pleased to let me know +whether you have them, or have them not. That of the 6th you should +regularly have had on the 8th, yet your letter of the 9th seems not to +mention it; all this puzzles me. + +Poor dear ****! He only grows dull, because he is sickly; age has not +yet begun to impair him; nor is he such a chameleon as to take +immediately the colour of his company. When you see him again you will +find him reanimated. Most men have their bright and their cloudy days; +at least they have days when they put their powers into action, and days +when they suffer them to repose. + +Fourteen thousand pounds make a sum sufficient for the establishment of +a family, and which, in whatever flow of riches or confidence of +prosperity, deserves to be very seriously considered. I hope a great +part of it has paid debts, and no small part bought land. As for +gravelling, and walling, and digging, though I am not much delighted +with them, yet something, indeed much, must be allowed to every man's +taste. He that is growing rich has a right to enjoy part of the growth +his own way. I hope to range in the walk, and row upon the water, and +devour fruit from the wall. + +Dr. Taylor wants to be gardening. He means to buy a piece of ground in +the neighbourhood, and surround it with a wall, and build a gardener's +house upon it, and have fruit, and be happy. Much happiness it will not +bring him; but what can he do better? If I had money enough, what would +I do? Perhaps, if you and master did not hold me, I might go to Cairo, +and down the Red sea to Bengal, and take a ramble in India. Would this +be better than building and planting? It would surely give more variety +to the eye, and more amplitude to the mind. Half fourteen thousand would +send me out to see other forms of existence, and bring me back to +describe them. + +I answer this the day on which I had yours of the 9th, that is on the +11th. Let me know when it comes. I am, &c. + + +XXXI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, August 2, 1775. + +MADAM,--I dined to-day at Stowhill, and am come away to write my letter. +Never, surely, was I such a writer before. Do you keep my letters? I am +not of your opinion, that I shall not like to read them hereafter; for +though there is in them not much history of mind, or anything else, they +will, I hope, always be, in some degree, the records of a pure and +blameless friendship, and, in some hours of languor and sadness, may +revive the memory of more cheerful times. + +Why you should suppose yourself not desirous hereafter to read the +history of your own mind, I do not see. Twelve years, on which you now +look, as on a vast expanse of life, will, probably, be passed over +uniformly and smoothly, with very little perception of your progress, +and with very few remarks upon the way. The accumulation of knowledge, +which you promise to yourself, by which the future is to look back upon +the present, with the superiority of manhood to infancy, will, perhaps, +never be attempted, or never will be made; and you will find, as +millions have found before you, that forty-five has made little sensible +addition to thirty-three. + +As the body, after a certain time, gains no increase of height, and +little of strength, there is, likewise, a period, though more variable +by external causes, when the mind commonly attains its stationary point, +and very little advances its powers of reflection, judgment, and +ratiocination. The body may acquire new modes of motion, or new +dexterities of mechanick operations, but its original strength receives +not improvement: the mind may be stored with new languages, or new +sciences, but its power of thinking remains nearly the same, and, unless +it attains new subjects of meditation, it commonly produces thoughts of +the same force and the same extent, at very distant intervals of life; +as the tree, unless a foreign fruit be ingrafted, gives, year after +year, productions of the same form, and the same flavour. + +By intellectual force, or strength of thought, is meant the degree of +power which the mind possesses of surveying the subject of meditation, +with its circuit of concomitants, and its train of dependence. + +Of this power, which all observe to be very different in different +minds, part seems the gift of nature, and part the acquisition of +experience. When the powers of nature have attained their intended +energy, they can be no more advanced. The shrub can never become a tree. +And it is not unreasonable to suppose, that they are, before the middle +of life, in their full vigour. + +Nothing then remains but practice and experience; and, perhaps, why they +do so little, may be worth inquiry. + +But I have just now looked, and find it so late, that I will inquire +against the next post night. I am, &c. + + +XXXII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, Augusts, 1775. + +DEAR MADAM,--Instead of forty reasons for my return, one is sufficient, +--that you wish for my company. I purpose to write no more till you see +me. The ladies at Stowhill and Greenhill are unanimously of opinion, +that it will be best to take a post chaise, and not to be troubled with +the vexations of a common carriage. I will venture to suppose the ladies +at Streatham to be of the same mind. + +You will now expect to be told, why you will not be so much wiser, as +you expect, when you have lived twelve years longer. + +It is said, and said truly, that experience is the best teacher; and it +is supposed, that, as life is lengthened, experience is increased. But a +closer inspection of human life will discover, that time often passes +without any incident which can much enlarge knowledge, or ratify +judgment. When we are young we learn much, because we are universally +ignorant; we observe every thing, because every thing is new. But, after +some years, the occurrences of daily life are exhausted; one day passes +like another, in the same scene of appearances, in the same course of +transactions: we have to do what we have often done, and what we do not +try, because we do not wish to do much better; we are told what we +already know, and, therefore, what repetition cannot make us know with +greater certainty. + +He that has early learned much, perhaps, seldom makes, with regard to +life and manners, much addition to his knowledge; not only, because, as +more is known, there is less to learn, but because a mind, stored with +images and principles, turns inwards for its own entertainment, and is +employed in settling those ideas, which run into confusion, and in +recollecting those which are stealing away; practices by which wisdom +may be kept, but not gained. The merchant, who was at first busy in +acquiring money, ceases to grow richer, from the time when he makes it +his business only to count it. + +Those who have families, or employments, are engaged in business of +little difficulty, but of great importance, requiring rather assiduity +of practice than subtilty of speculation, occupying the attention with +images too bulky for refinement, and too obvious for research. The right +is already known: what remains is only to follow it. Daily business adds +no more to wisdom, than daily lesson to the learning of the teacher. But +of how few lives does not stated duty claim the greater part! + +Far the greater part of human minds never endeavour their own +improvement. Opinions, once received from instruction, or settled by +whatever accident, are seldom recalled to examination; having been once +supposed to be right, they are never discovered to be erroneous, for no +application is made of any thing that time may present, either to shake +or to confirm them. From this acquiescence in preconceptions none are +wholly free; between fear of uncertainty, and dislike of labour, every +one rests while he might yet go forward; and they that were wise at +thirty-three, are very little wiser at forty-five. + +Of this speculation you are, perhaps, tired, and would rather hear of +Sophy. I hope, before this comes, that her head will be easier, and your +head less filled with fears and troubles, which you know are to be +indulged only to prevent evil, not to increase it. + +Your uneasiness about Sophy is, probably, unnecessary, and, at worst, +your own children are healthful, and your affairs prosperous. Unmingled +good cannot be expected; but, as we may lawfully gather all the good +within our reach, we may be allowed to lament after that which we lose. +I hope your losses are at an end, and that, as far as the condition of +our present existence permits, your remaining life will be happy. I am, +&c. + + +XXXIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, March 25, 1776. + +DEAR MADAM,--This letter will not, I hope, reach you many days before +me; in a distress which can be so little relieved, nothing remains for a +friend, but to come and partake it. + +Poor, dear, sweet little boy! When I read the letter this day to Mrs. +Aston, she said, "such a death is the next to translation." Yet, however +I may convince myself of this, the tears are in my eyes, and yet I could +not love him as you loved him, nor reckon upon him for a future comfort, +as you and his father reckoned upon him. + +He is gone, and we are going! We could not have enjoyed him long, and +shall not long be separated from him. He has, probably, escaped many +such pangs as you are now feeling. + +Nothing remains, but that, with humble confidence we resign ourselves to +almighty goodness, and fall down, without irreverent murmurs, before the +sovereign distributer of good and evil, with hope, that though sorrow +endureth for a night, yet joy may come in the morning. + +I have known you, madam, too long to think that you want any arguments +for submission to the supreme will; nor can my consolation have any +effect, but that of showing that I wish to comfort you. What can be +done, you must do for yourself. Remember first, that your child is +happy; and then, that he is safe, not only from the ills of this world, +but from those more formidable dangers which extend their mischief to +eternity. You have brought into the world a rational being; have seen +him happy during the little life that has been granted him; and can have +no doubt but that his happiness is now permanent and immutable. + +When you have obtained, by prayer, such tranquillity as nature will +admit, force your attention, as you can, upon your accustomed duties and +accustomed entertainments. You can do no more for our dear boy, but you +must not, therefore, think less on those whom your attention may make +fitter for the place to which he is gone. I am, dearest, dearest madam, +your most affectionate humble servant. + + +XXXIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Sept. 6, 1777. + +DEAREST LADY,--It is true, that I have loitered, and, what is worse, +loitered with very little pleasure. The time has run away, as most time +runs, without account, without use, and without memorial. But, to say +this of a few weeks, though not pleasing, might be borne; but what ought +to be the regret of him who, in a few days, will have so nearly the same +to say of sixty-eight years? But complaint is vain. + +If you have nothing to say from the neighbourhood of the metropolis, +what can occur to me, in little cities and petty towns; in places which +we have both seen, and of which no description is wanted? I have left +part of the company with which you dined here, to come and write this +letter, in which I have nothing to tell, but that my nights are very +tedious. I cannot persuade myself to forbear trying something. + +As you have now little to do, I suppose you are pretty diligent at the +Thraliana; and a very curious collection posterity will find it. Do not +remit the practice of writing down occurrences as they arise, of +whatever kind, and be very punctual in annexing the dates. Chronology, +you know, is the eye of history; and every man's life is of importance +to himself. Do not omit painful casualties, or unpleasing passages; they +make the variegation of existence; and there are many transactions, of +which I will not promise, with Aeneas, "et haec olim meminisse juvabit;" +yet that remembrance which is not pleasant, may be useful. There is, +however, an intemperate attention to slight circumstances, which is to +be avoided, lest a great part of life be spent in writing the history of +the rest. Every day, perhaps, has something to be noted; but in a +settled and uniform course, few days can have much. + +Why do I write all this, which I had no thought of when I began! The +Thraliana drove it all into my head. It deserves, however, an hour's +reflection, to consider how, with the least loss of time, the loss of +what we wish to retain may be prevented. + +Do not neglect to write to me, for when a post comes empty, I am really +disappointed. + +Boswell, I believe, will meet me here. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XXXV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, October 3, 1777, + +DEAR MADAM,--This is the last time that I shall write, in this +excursion, from this place. To-morrow I shall be, I hope, at Birmingham; +from which place I shall do my best to find the nearest way home. I come +home, I think, worse than I went; and do not like the state of my +health. But, "vive hodie," make the most of life. I hope to get better, +and--sweep the cobwebs. But I have sad nights. Mrs. Aston has sent me to +Mr. Greene, to be cured. + +Did you see Foote at Brighthelmstone?--Did you think he would so soon be +gone?--Life, says Falstaff, is a shuttle. He was a fine fellow in his +way; and the world is really impoverished by his sinking glories. Murphy +ought to write his life, at least, to give the world a Footeiana. Now, +will any of his contemporaries bewail him? Will genius change _his sex_ +to weep? I would really have his life written with diligence. + +It will be proper for me to work pretty diligently now for some time. I +hope to get through, though so many weeks have passed. Little lives and +little criticisms may serve. + +Having been in the country so long, with very little to detain me, I am +rather glad to look homewards. I am, &c. + + +XXXVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +October 13, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--Yet I do love to hear from you: such pretty, kind letters +as you send. But it gives me great delight to find that my master misses +me, I begin to wish myself with you more than I should do, if I were +wanted less. It is a good thing to stay away, till one's company is +desired, but not so good to stay, after it is desired. + +You know I have some work to do. I did not set to it very soon; and if I +should go up to London with nothing done, what would be said, but that I +was--who can tell what? I, therefore, stay till I can bring up something +to stop their mouths, and then-- + +Though I am still at Ashbourne, I receive your dear letters, that come +to Lichfield, and you continue that direction, for I think to get +thither as soon as I can. + +One of the does died yesterday, and I am afraid her fawn will be +starved; I wish Miss Thrale had it to nurse; but the doctor is now all +for cattle, and minds very little either does or hens. + +How did you and your aunt part? Did you turn her out of doors, to begin +your journey? or did she leave you by her usual shortness of visits? I +love to know how you go on. + +I cannot but think on your kindness and my master's. Life has, upon the +whole, fallen short, very short, of my early expectation; but the +acquisition of such a friendship, at an age, when new friendships are +seldom acquired, is something better than the general course of things +gives man a right to expect. I think on it with great delight: I am not +very apt to be delighted. I am, &c. + + +XXXVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, October 27, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--You talk of writing and writing, as if you had all the +writing to yourself. If our correspondence were printed, I am sure +posterity, for posterity is always the author's favourite, would say +that I am a good writer too.--"Anch'io sono pittore." To sit down so +often with nothing to say; to say something so often, almost without +consciousness of saying, and without any remembrance of having said, is +a power of which I will not violate my modesty by boasting, but I do not +believe that every body has it. + +Some, when they write to their friends, are all affection; some are wise +and sententious; some strain their powers for efforts of gaiety; some +write news, and some write secrets; but to make a letter without +affection, without wisdom, without gaiety, without news, and without a +secret, is, doubtless, the great epistolick art. + +In a man's letters, you know, madam, his soul lies naked, his letters +are only the mirror of his breast; whatever passes within him, is shown, +undisguised, in its natural process; nothing is inverted, nothing +distorted: you see systems in their elements; you discover actions in +their motives. + +Of this great truth, sounded by the knowing to the ignorant, and so +echoed by the ignorant to the knowing, what evidence have you now before +you? Is not my soul laid open in these veracious pages? Do not you see +me reduced to my first principles? This is the pleasure of corresponding +with a friend, where doubt and distrust have no place, and every thing +is said as it is thought. The original idea is laid down in its simple +purity, and all the supervenient conceptions are spread over it, +"stratum super stratum," as they happen to be formed. These are the +letters by which souls are united, and by which minds, naturally in +unison, move each other, as they are moved themselves. I know, dearest +lady, that in the perusal of this, such is the consanguinity of our +intellects, you will be touched, as I am touched. I have, indeed, +concealed nothing from you, nor do I expect ever to repent of having +thus opened my heart. I am, &c. + + +XXXVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 10, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--And so, supposing that I might come to town, and neglect to +give you notice, or thinking some other strange thought, but certainly +thinking wrong, you fall to writing about me to Tom Davies, as if he +could tell you anything that I would not have you know. As soon as I +came hither, I let you know of my arrival; and the consequence is, that +I am summoned to Brighthelmstone, through storms, and cold, and dirt, +and all the hardships of wintry journeys. You know my natural dread of +all those evils; yet, to show my master an example of compliance, and to +let you know how much I long to see you, and to boast how little I give +way to disease, my purpose is to be with you on Friday. + +I am sorry for poor Nezzy, and hope she will, in time, be better; I hope +the same for myself. The rejuvenescency of Mr. Scrase gives us both +reason to hope, and, therefore, both of us rejoice in his recovery. I +wish him well, besides, as a friend to my master. + +I am just come home from not seeing my lord mayor's show, but I might +have seen, at least, part of it. But I saw Miss Wesley and her brothers; +she sends her compliments. Mrs. Williams is come home, I think, a very +little better. + +Every body was an enemy to that wig.--We will burn it, and get drunk; +for what is joy without drink? Wagers are laid in the city about our +success, which is yet, as the French call it, problematical. Well--but, +seriously, I think, I shall be glad to see you in your own hair; but do +not take too much time in combing, and twisting, and papering, and +unpapering, and curling, and frizling, and powdering, and getting out +the powder, with all the other operations required in the cultivation of +a head of hair; yet let it be combed, at least, once in three months on +the quarterday.--I could wish it might be combed once at least, in six +weeks; if I were to indulge my wishes but what are wishes without hopes, +I should fancy the operation performed--one knows not when one has +enough--perhaps, every morning. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XXXIX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, June 14, 1779. + +DEAR MADAM,--Your account of Mr. Thrale's illness is very terrible; but +when I remember that he seems to have it peculiar to his constitution, +that, whatever distemper he has, he always has his head affected, I am +less frighted. The seizure was, I think, not apoplectical but +hysterical, and, therefore, not dangerous to life. I would have you, +however, consult such physicians as you think you can best trust. +Broomfield seems to have done well and, by his practice, appears not to +suspect an apoplexy. This is a solid and fundamental comfort. I remember +Dr. Marsigli, an Italian physician, whose seizure was more violent than +Mr. Thrale's, for he fell down helpless, but his case was not considered +as of much danger, and he went safe home, and is now a professor at +Padua. His fit was considered as only hysterical. + +I hope sir Philip, who franked your letter, comforts you as well as Mr. +Seward. If I can comfort you, I will come to you; but I hope you are now +no longer in want of any help to be happy. I am, &c. + +The doctor sends his compliments; he is one of the people that are +growing old. + + +XL.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, June 14, 1779. + +DEAR MADAM,--How near we are all to extreme danger. We are merry or sad, +or busy or idle, and forget that death is hovering over us. You are a +dear lady for writing again. The case, as you now describe it, is worse +than I conceived it, when I read your first letter. It is still, +however, not apoplectick, but seems to have something worse than +hysterical--a tendency to a palsy, which, I hope, however, is now over. +I am glad that you have Heberden, and hope we are all safer. I am the +more alarmed by this violent seizure, as I can impute it to no wrong +practices, or intemperance of any kind, and, therefore, know not how any +defence or preservative can be obtained. Mr. Thrale has, certainly, less +exercise than when he followed the foxes; but he is very far from +unwieldiness or inactivity, and further still from any vitious or +dangerous excess. I fancy, however, he will do well to ride more. + +Do, dear madam, let me know, every post, how he goes on. Such sudden +violence is very dreadful; we know not by what it is let loose upon us, +nor by what its effects are limited. + +If my coming can either assist or divert, or be useful to any purpose, +let me but know: I will soon be with you. Mrs. Kennedy, Queeney's +Baucis, ended, last week, a long life of disease and poverty. She had +been married about fifty years. + +Dr. Taylor is not much amiss, but always complaining. I am, &c. + + +XLI.--To MR. THRALE. + +Lichfield, June 23, 1779. + +DEAR SIR,--To show how well I think of your health, I have sent you a +hundred pounds, to keep for me. It will come within one day of +quarterday, and that day you must give me. I came by it in a very +uncommon manner, and would not confound it with the rest. + +My wicked mistress talks as if she thought it possible for me to be +indifferent or negligent about your health or hers. If I could have done +any good, I had not delayed an hour to come to you; and I will come very +soon, to try if my advice can be of any use, or my company of any +entertainment. + +What can be done, you must do for yourself: do not let any uneasy +thought settle in your mind. Cheerfulness and exercise are your great +remedies. Nothing is, for the present, worth your anxiety. "Vivite +laeti" is one of the great rules of health. I believe it will be good to +ride often, but never to weariness, for weariness is, itself, a +temporary resolution of the nerves, and is, therefore, to be avoided. +Labour is exercise continued to fatigue--exercise is labour used only, +while it produces pleasure. + +Above all, keep your mind quiet: do not think with earnestness even of +your health; but think on such things as may please without too much +agitation; among which, I hope, is, dear sir, your, &c. + + +XLII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAR MADAM,--On Sunday I dined with poor Lawrence, who is deafer than +ever. When he was told that Dr. Moisy visited Mr. Thrale, he inquired +for what? and said there was nothing to be done, which nature would not +do for herself. On Sunday evening, I was at Mrs. Vesy's, and there was +inquiry about my master, but I told them all good. There was Dr. Bernard +of Eton, and we made a noise all the evening; and there was Pepys, and +Wraxal, till I drove him away. And I have no loss of my mistress, who +laughs, and frisks, and frolicks it all the long day, and never thinks +of poor Colin. + +If Mr. Thrale will but continue to mend, we shall, I hope, come together +again, and do as good things as ever we did; but, perhaps, you will be +made too proud to heed me, and yet, as I have often told you, it will +not be easy for you to find such another. + +Queeney has been a good girl, and wrote me a letter; if Burney said she +would write, she told you a fib. She writes nothing to me. She can write +home fast enough. I have a good mind not to let her know that Dr. +Bernard, to whom I had recommended her novel, speaks of it with great +commendation, and that the copy which she lent me, has been read by Dr. +Lawrence three times over. And yet what a gipsy it is. She no more minds +me than if I were a Brangton. Pray speak to Queeney to write again. + +I have had a cold and a cough, and taken opium, and think I am better. +We have had very cold weather; bad riding weather for my master, but he +will surmount it all. Did Mrs. Browne make any reply to your comparison +of business with solitude, or did you quite down her? I am much pleased +to think that Mrs. Cotton thinks me worth a frame, and a place upon her +wall; her kindness was hardly within my hope, but time does wonderful +things. All my fear is, that if I should come again, my print would be +taken down. I fear I shall never hold it. + +Who dines with you? Do you see Dr. Woodward, or Dr. Harrington? Do you +go to the house where they write for the myrtle? You are at all places +of high resort, and bring home hearts by dozens; while I am seeking for +something to say about men, of whom I know nothing, but their verses, +and, sometimes, very little of them. Now I have begun, however, I do not +despair of making an end. Mr. Nichols holds, that Addison is the most +taking of all that I have done. I doubt they will not be done, before +you come away. + +Now you think yourself the first writer in the world for a letter about +nothing. Can you write such a letter as this? So miscellaneous, with +such noble disdain of regularity, like Shakespeare's works; such +graceful negligence of transition, like the ancient enthusiasts? The +pure voice of nature and of friendship. Now, of whom shall I proceed to +speak? Of whom but Mrs. Montague? Having mentioned Shakespeare and +nature, does not the name of Montague force itself upon me? Such were +the transitions of the ancients, which now seem abrupt, because the +intermediate idea is lost to modern understandings. I wish her name had +connected itself with friendship; but, ah, Colin, thy hopes are in vain! +One thing, however, is left me, I have still to complain; but I hope I +shall not complain much, while you have any kindness for me. I am, +dearest, and dearest madam, your, &c. + +London, April, 11, 1780. + + +XLIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Mr. Thrale never will live abstinently, till he can +persuade himself to abstain by rule. I lived on potatoes on Friday, and +on spinage to-day; but I have had, I am afraid, too many dinners of +late. I took physick too both days, and hope to fast to-morrow. When he +comes home, we will shame him, and Jebb shall scold him into regularity. +I am glad, however, that he is always one of the company, and that my +dear Queeney is again another. Encourage, as you can, the musical girl. + +Nothing is more common than mutual dislike, where mutual approbation is +particularly expected. There is often on both sides a vigilance, not +over-benevolent; and as attention is strongly excited, so that nothing +drops unheeded, any difference in taste or opinion, and some difference, +where there is no restraint, will commonly appear, immediately generates +dislike. + +Never let criticisms operate upon your face, or your mind; it is very +rarely that an author is hurt by his criticks. The blaze of reputation +cannot be blown out, but it often dies in the socket; a very few names +may be considered as perpetual lamps, that shine unconsumed. From the +author of Fitzosborne's Letters, I cannot think myself in much danger. I +met him only once, about thirty years ago, and, in some small dispute, +reduced him to whistle; having not seen him since, that is the last +impression. Poor Moore, the fabulist, was one of the company. + +Mrs. Montague's long stay, against her own inclination, is very +convenient. You would, by your own confession, want a companion; and she +is "par pluribus," conversing with her you may "find variety in one." + +At Mrs. Ord's I met one Mrs. B--, a travelled lady, of great spirit, and +some consciousness of her own abilities. We had a contest of gallantry, +an hour long, so much to the diversion of the company, that at Ramsay's, +last night, in a crowded room, they would have pitted us again. There +were Smelt, and the bishop of St. Asaph, who comes to every place; and +lord Monboddo, and sir Joshua, and ladies out of tale. + +The exhibition, how will you do either to see or not to see! The +exhibition is eminently splendid. There is contour, and keeping, and +grace, and expression, and all the varieties of artificial excellence. +The apartments were truly very noble. The pictures, for the sake of a +skylight, are at the top of the house; there we dined, and I sat over +against the archbishop of York. See how I live, when I am not under +petticoat government. I am, &c. + +London, May 1, 1780. + + +XLIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, June 9, 1780. + +DEAR MADAM,--To the question, Who was impressed with consternation? it +may, with great truth, be answered, that every body was impressed, for +nobody was sure of his safety. + +On Friday, the good protestants met in St. George's fields, at the +summons of lord George Gordon, and marching to Westminster, insulted the +lords and commons, who all bore it with great tameness. At night, the +outrages began, by the demolition of the mass-house by Lincoln's inn. + +An exact journal of a week's defiance of government, I cannot give you. +On Monday, Mr. Strahan, who had been insulted, spoke to lord Mansfield, +who had, I think been insulted too, of the licentiousness of the +populace; and his lordship treated it, as a very slight irregularity. On +Tuesday night, they pulled down Fielding's house and burnt his goods in +the street. They had gutted, on Monday sir George Saville's house, but +the building was saved. On Tuesday evening, leaving Fielding's ruins, +they went to Newgate, to demand their companions, who had been seized, +demolishing the chapel. The keeper could not release them, but by the +mayor's permission, which he went to ask; at his return, he found all +the prisoners released, and Newgate in a blaze. They then went to +Bloomsbury, and fastened upon lord Mansfield's house which they pulled +down; and as for his goods, they totally burnt them. They have since +gone to Caen wood, but a guard was there before them. They plundered +some papists, I think, and burnt a mass-house in Moorfields the same +night. + +On Wednesday, I walked with Dr. Scott, to look at Newgate, and found it +in ruins, with the fire yet glowing As I went by, the protestants were +plundering the Sessions house at the Old Bailey. There were not, I +believe, a hundred; but they did their work at leisure, in full +security, without sentinels, without trepidation, as men lawfully +employed in full day. Such is the cowardice of a commercial place. On +Wednesday they broke open the Fleet, and the King's Bench, and the +Marshalsea, and Wood street Counter, and Clerkenwell Bridewell, and +released all the prisoners. + +At night, they set fire to the Fleet, and to the King's Bench, and I +know not how many other places; and one might see the glare of +conflagration fill the sky from many parts. The sight was dreadful. Some +people were threatened; Mr. Strahan advised me to take care of myself. +Such a time of terrour you have been happy in not seeing. + +The king said, in council, that the magistrates had not done their duty, +but that he would do his own; and a proclamation was published, +directing us to keep our servants within doors, as the peace was now to +be preserved by force. The soldiers were sent out to different parts, +and the town is now at quiet. + +What has happened at your house, you will know; the harm is only a few +butts of beer; and I think you may be sure that the danger is over. +There is a body of soldiers at St. Margaret's hill. + +Of Mr. Tyson I know nothing, nor can guess to what he can allude; but I +know that a young fellow of little more than seventy is naturally an +unresisted conqueror of hearts. + +Pray tell Mr. Thrale that I live here and have no fruit, and if he does +not interpose, am not likely to have much; but, I think, he might as +well give me a little, as give all to the gardener. + +Pray make my compliments to Queeney and Burney. I am, &c. + + +XLV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +June 10, 1780. + +DEAR MADAM,--You have, ere now, heard and read enough to convince you, +that we have had something to suffer, and something to fear, and, +therefore, I think it necessary to quiet the solicitude which you +undoubtedly feel, by telling you that our calamities and terrours are +now at an end. The soldiers are stationed so as to be every where within +call; there is no longer any body of rioters, and the individuals are +hunted to their holes, and led to prison; the streets are safe and +quiet: lord George was last night sent to the Tower. Mr. John Wilkes +was, this day, with a party of soldiers, in my neighbourhood, to seize +the publisher of a seditious paper. Every body walks, and eats, and +sleeps in security. But the history of the last week would fill you with +amazement: it is without any modern example. + +Several chapels have been destroyed, and several inoffensive papists +have been plundered, but the high sport was to burn the gaols. This was +a good rabble trick. The debtors and the criminals were all set at +liberty; but, of the criminals, as has always happened, many are already +retaken, and two pirates have surrendered themselves, and it is expected +that they will be pardoned. + +Government now acts again with its proper force; and we are all again +under the protection of the king and the law. I thought that it would be +agreeable to you and my master, to have my testimony to the publick +security; and that you would sleep more quietly, when I told you, that +you are safe. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XLVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, April 5, 1781. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Of your injunctions, to pray for you, and write to you, +I hope to leave neither unobserved; and I hope to find you willing, in a +short time, to alleviate your trouble by some other exercise of the +mind. I am not without my part of the calamity. No death, since that of +my wife, has ever oppressed me like this. But let us remember, that we +are in the hands of him who knows when to give and when to take away; +who will look upon us, with mercy, through all our variations of +existence, and who invites us to call on him in the day of trouble. Call +upon him in this great revolution of life, and call with confidence. You +will then find comfort for the past, and support for the future. He that +has given you happiness in marriage, to a degree of which, without +personal knowledge, I should have thought the description fabulous, can +give you another mode of happiness as a mother, and, at last, the +happiness of losing all temporal cares, in the thoughts of an eternity +in heaven. + +I do not exhort you to reason yourself into tranquillity. We must first +pray, and then labour; first implore the blessing of God, and use those +means which he puts into our hands. Cultivated ground has few weeds; a +mind, occupied by lawful business, has little room for useless regret. + +We read the will to-day; but I will not fill my first letter with any +other account, than that, with all my zeal for your advantage, I am +satisfied; and, that the other executors, more used to consider property +than I, commended it for wisdom and equity. Yet, why should I not tell +you, that you have five hundred pounds for your immediate expenses, and +two thousand pounds a year, with both the houses, and all the goods. + +Let us pray for one another, that the time, whether long or short, that +shall yet be granted us, may be well spent; and, that, when this life, +which, at the longest, is very short, shall come to an end, a better may +begin, which shall never end. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +XLVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +April 7, 1781. + +DEAR MADAM,--I hope you begin to find your mind grow clearer. My part of +the loss hangs upon me. I have lost a friend of boundless kindness, at +an age when it is very unlikely that I should find another. + +If you think change of place likely to relieve you, there is no reason +why you should not go to Bath; the distances are unequal, but with +regard to practice and business they are the same. It is a day's journey +from either place; and the post is more expeditious and certain to Bath. +Consult only your own inclination, for there is really no other +principle of choice. God direct and bless you. + +Mr. C--has offered Mr. P--money, but it was not wanted. I hope we shall +all do all we can to make you less unhappy, and you must do all you can +for yourself. What we, or what you can do, will, for a time, be but +little; yet, certainly, that calamity which may be considered as doomed +to fall inevitably on half mankind, is not finally without alleviation. + +It is something for me, that, as I have not the decrepitude, I have not +the callousness of old age. I hope, in time, to be less affected. I am, +&c. + + +XLVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, April 9, 1781. + +DEAR MADAM,--That you are gradually recovering your tranquillity is the +effect to be humbly expected from trust in God. Do not represent life as +darker than it is. Your loss has been very great, but you retain more +than almost any other can hope to possess. You are high in the opinion +of mankind; you have children, from whom much pleasure may be expected; +and that you will find many friends you have no reason to doubt. Of my +friendship, be it worth more or less, I hope you think yourself certain, +without much art or care. It will not be easy for me to repay the +benefits that I have received; but I hope to be always ready at your +call. Our sorrow has different effects; you are withdrawn into solitude, +and I am driven into company. I am afraid of thinking what I have lost. +I never had such a friend before. Let me have your prayers and those of +my dear Queeney. + +The prudence and resolution of your design to return so soon to your +business and your duty, deserves great praise; I shall communicate it, +on Wednesday, to the other executors. Be pleased to let me know, whether +you would have me come to Streatham to receive you, or stay here till +the next day. I am, &c. + + +XLIX.--To THE SAME. + +Bolt court, Fleet street, June 19, 1783. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sitting down, in no cheerful solitude, to write a +narrative, which would once have affected you with tenderness and +sorrow, but which you will, perhaps, pass over now with a careless +glance of frigid indifference. For this diminution of regard, however, I +know not whether I ought to blame you, who may have reasons which I +cannot know; and I do not blame myself, who have, for a great part of +human life, done you what good I could, and have never done you evil. + +I have been disordered in the usual way, and had been relieved, by the +usual methods, by opium and catharticks, but had rather lessened my dose +of opium. + +On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture, and walked a considerable +way, with little inconvenience. In the afternoon and evening, I felt +myself light and easy, and began to plan schemes of life. Thus I went to +bed, and, in a short time, waked and sat up, as has been long my custom, +when I felt a confusion and indistinctness in my head, which lasted, I +suppose, about half a minute; I was alarmed, and prayed God, that, +however he might afflict my body, he would spare my understanding. This +prayer, that I might try the integrity of my faculties, I made in Latin +verse. The lines were not very good, but I knew them not to be very +good: I made them easily, and concluded myself to be unimpaired in my +faculties. + +Soon after, I perceived that I had suffered a paralytick stroke, and +that my speech was taken from me. I had no pain, and so little +dejection, in this dreadful state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and +considered that, perhaps, death itself, when it should come, would +excite less horrour than seems now to attend it. + +In order to rouse the vocal organs, I took two drams. Wine has been +celebrated for the production of eloquence. I put myself into violent +motion, and, I think, repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed, +and, strange as it may seem, I think, slept. When I saw light, it was +time to contrive what I should do. Though God stopped my speech, he left +me my hand: I enjoyed a mercy, which was not granted to my dear friend +Lawrence, who now, perhaps, overlooks me, as I am writing, and rejoices +that I have what he wanted. My first note was, necessarily, to my +servant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend, why +he should read what I put into his hands. + +I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have a discreet friend at +hand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note, I had +some difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. I +then wrote to Dr. Taylor, to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden, and I +sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are very +friendly and very disinterested, and give me great hopes, but you may +imagine my situation. I have so far recovered my vocal powers, as to +repeat the Lord's prayer, with no very imperfect articulation. My +memory, I hope, yet remains as it was; but such an attack produces +solicitude for the safety of every faculty. + +How this will be received by you, I know not. I hope you will sympathize +with me; but, perhaps, + + "My mistress, gracious, mild, and good, + Cries: Is he dumb? 'Tis time he shou'd." + +But can this be possible? I hope it cannot. I hope that what, when I +could speak, I spoke of you, and to you, will be, in a sober and serious +hour, remembered by you; and, surely, it cannot be remembered but with +some degree of kindness. I have loved you with virtuous affection; I +have honoured you with sincere esteem. Let not all our endearments be +forgotten, but let me have, in this great distress, your pity and your +prayers. You see, I yet turn to you with my complaints, as a settled and +unalienable friend; do not, do not drive me from you, for I have not +deserved either neglect or hatred. + +To the girls, who do not write often, for Susy has written only once, +and Miss Thrale owes me a letter, I earnestly recommend, as their +guardian and friend, that they remember their creator in the days of +their youth. + +I suppose, you may wish to know, how my disease is treated by the +physicians. They put a blister upon my back, and two from my ear to my +throat, one on a side. The blister on the back has done little, and +those on the throat have not risen. I bullied and bounced, (it sticks to +our last sand,) and compelled the apothecary to make his salve according +to the Edinburgh dispensatory, that it might adhere better. I have two +on now of my own prescription. They, likewise, give me salt of +hartshorn, which I take with no great confidence, but I am satisfied +that what can be done, is done for me. + +O God! give me comfort and confidence in thee; forgive my sins; and, if +it be thy good pleasure, relieve my diseases, for Jesus Christ's sake. +Amen. + +I am almost ashamed of this querulous letter; but now it is written, let +it go. I am, &c. + + +L.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAR MADAM,--Among those that have inquired after me, sir Philip is one; +and Dr. Burney was one of those who came to see me. I have had no reason +to complain of indifference or neglect. Dick Burney is come home five +inches taller. + +Yesterday, in the evening, I went to church, and have been to-day to see +the great burning-glass, which does more than was ever done before, by +the transmission of the rays, but is not equal in power to those which +reflect them. It wastes a diamond placed in the focus, but causes no +diminution of pure gold. Of the rubies, exposed to its action, one was +made more vivid, the other paler. To see the glass, I climbed up stairs +to the garret, and then up a ladder to the leads, and talked to the +artist rather too long; for my voice, though clear and distinct for a +little while, soon tires and falters. The organs of speech are yet very +feeble, but will, I hope, be, by the mercy of God, finally restored: at +present, like any other weak limb, they can endure but little labour at +once. Would you not have been very sorry for me, when I could scarcely +speak? + +Fresh cantharides were this morning applied to my head, and are to be +continued some time longer. If they play me no treacherous tricks, they +give me very little pain. + +Let me have your kindness and your prayers; and think on me, as on a +man, who, for a very great portion of your life has done you all the +good he could, and desires still to be considered, madam, your, &c. + + +LI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, July 1, 1783. + +DEAREST MADAM,--This morning I took the air by a ride to Hampstead, and +this afternoon I dined with the club. But fresh cantharides were this +day applied to my head. + +Mr. Cator called on me to-day, and told me, that he had invited you back +to Streatham. I showed the unfitness of your return thither, till the +neighbourhood should have lost its habits of depredation, and he seemed +to be satisfied. He invited me, very kindly and cordially, to try the +air of Beckenham; and pleased me very much by his affectionate attention +to Miss Vesy. There is much good in his character, and much usefulness +in his knowledge. + +Queeney seems now to have forgotten me. Of the different appearance of +the hills and valleys an account may, perhaps, be given, without the +supposition of any prodigy! If she had been out, and the evening was +breezy, the exhalations would rise from the low grounds very copiously; +and the wind that swept and cleared the hills, would only, by its cold, +condense the vapours of the sheltered valleys. + +Murphy is just gone from me; he visits me very kindly, and I have no +unkindness to complain of. + +I am sorry that sir Philip's request was not treated with more respect, +nor can I imagine what has put them so much out of humour; I hope their +business is prosperous. + +I hope that I recover by degrees, but my nights are restless; and you +will suppose the nervous system to be somewhat enfeebled. I am, madam, +your, &c. + + +LII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, October 9, 1783. + +Two nights ago, Mr. Burke sat with me a long time; he seems much pleased +with his journey. We had both seen Stonehenge this summer, for the first +time. I told him that the view had enabled me to confute two opinions +which have been advanced about it. One, that the materials are not +natural stones, but an artificial composition, hardened by time. This +notion is as old as Camden's time; and has this strong argument to +support it, that stone of that species is nowhere to be found. The other +opinion, advanced by Dr. Charlton, is, that it was erected by the Danes. + +Mr. Bowles made me observe, that the transverse stones were fixed on the +perpendicular supporters by a knob, formed on the top of the upright +stone, which entered into a hollow, cut in the crossing stone. This is a +proof, that the enormous edifice was raised by a people who had not yet +the knowledge of mortar; which cannot be supposed of the Danes, who came +hither in ships, and were not ignorant, certainly, of the arts of life. +This proves, likewise, the stones not to be factitious; for they that +could mould such durable masses, could do much more than make mortar, +and could have continued the transverse from the upright part with the +same paste. + +You have, doubtless, seen Stonehenge; and if you have not, I should +think it a hard task to make an adequate description. + +It is, in my opinion, to be referred to the earliest habitation of the +island, as a druidical monument of, at least, two thousand years; +probably the most ancient work of man, upon the island. Salisbury +cathedral, and its neighbour Stonehenge, are two eminent monuments of +art and rudeness, and may show the first essay, and the last perfection +in architecture. + +I have not yet settled my thoughts about the generation of light air, +which I, indeed, once saw produced, but I was at the height of my great +complaint. I have made inquiry, and shall soon be able to tell you how +to fill a balloon. I am, madam, your, &c. + + +LIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, Dec. 27, 1783. + +DEAR MADAM,--The wearisome solitude of the long evenings did, indeed, +suggest to me the convenience of a club in my neighbourhood, but I have +been hindered from attending it by want of breath. If I can complete the +scheme, you shall have the names and the regulations. + +The time of the year, for I hope the fault is rather in the weather than +in me, has been very hard upon me. The muscles of my breast are much +convulsed. Dr. Heberden recommends opiates, of which I have such +horrour, that I do not think of them but _in extremis_. I was, however, +driven to them, last night, for refuge, and, having taken the usual +quantity, durst not go to bed, for fear of that uneasiness to which a +supine posture exposes me, but rested all night in a chair, with much +relief, and have been, to-day, more warm, active, and cheerful. + +You have more than once wondered at my complaint of solitude, when you +hear that I am crowded with visits. "Inopem me copia fecit." Visitors +are no proper companions in the chamber of sickness. They come, when I +could sleep or read, they stay till I am weary, they force me to attend, +when my mind calls for relaxation, and to speak, when my powers will +hardly actuate my tongue. The amusements and consolations of languor and +depression are conferred by familiar and domestick companions, which can +be visited or called at will, and can, occasionally, be quitted or +dismissed, who do not obstruct accommodation by ceremony, or destroy +indolence by awakening effort. + +Such society I had with Levet and Williams; such I had where--I am never +likely to have it more. + +I wish, dear lady, to you and my dear girls, many a cheerful and pious +Christmas. I am, your, &c. + + +LIV.--To MRS. Piozzi. + +London, July 8, 1784. + +DEAR MADAM,--What you have done, however I may lament it, I have no +pretence to resent, as it has not been injurious to me; I, therefore, +breathe out one sigh more of tenderness, perhaps useless, but at least +sincere. + +I wish that God may grant you every blessing, that you may be happy in +this world, for its short continuance, and eternally happy in a better +state; and whatever I can contribute to your happiness, I am very ready +to repay, for that kindness which soothed twenty years of a life +radically wretched. + +Do not think slightly of the advice which I now presume to offer. +Prevail upon Mr. Piozzi to settle in England; you may live here with +more dignity than in Italy, and with more security; your rank will be +higher, and your fortune more under your own eye. I desire not to detail +all my reasons; but every argument of prudence and interest is for +England, and only some phantoms of imagination seduce you to Italy. + +I am afraid, however, that my counsel is vain, yet I have eased my heart +by giving it. + +When queen Mary took the resolution of sheltering herself in England, +the archbishop of St. Andrew's, attempting to dissuade her, attended on +her journey; and when they came to the irremeable stream, that separated +the two kingdoms, walked by her side into the water, in the middle of +which he seized her bridle, and with earnestness, proportioned to her +danger and his own affection, pressed her to return. The queen went +forward.--If the parallel reaches thus far, may it go no farther.--The +tears stand in my eyes. + +I am going into Derbyshire, and hope to be followed by your good wishes, +for I am, with great affection, your, &c. + +END OF VOL. I. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and +Tales, Volume 1, by Samuel Johnson + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10835 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..86a28fa --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #10835 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10835) diff --git a/old/10835-8.txt b/old/10835-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df4b6c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10835-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18570 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and +Tales, Volume 1, by Samuel Johnson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales, Volume 1 + The Works Of Samuel Johnson, Ll.D., In Nine Volumes + +Author: Samuel Johnson + +Release Date: January 25, 2004 [EBook #10835] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHNSON'S WORKS, V1 *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +DR. JOHNSON'S WORKS. + +LIFE, POEMS, AND TALES. + +THE + +WORKS + +OF + +SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + +IN NINE VOLUMES. + +VOLUME THE FIRST. + +MDCCCXXV + + +ADVERTISEMENT. + +It may be asserted, without a partial panegyric of the object of our +praise, that the works of no single author in the wide range of British +literature, not excepting, perhaps, even Addison, contain a richer and +more varied fund of rational entertainment and sound instruction than +those of Dr. Johnson. A correct edition of his works must, therefore, be +an acceptable contribution to the mass of national literature. That the +present edition has, perhaps, fairer claims on public approbation than +most preceding ones, we feel ourselves justified in asserting, without +envious detraction of those who have gone before us. It has been our +wish and diligent endeavour to give as accurate a text as possible, to +which we have subjoined notes, where elucidation seemed to be required. +They have been collected with care, and will prove our impartiality by +their occasional censures of the faults and failings of the writer whose +works it is our office to illustrate, and our more common and more +grateful task to praise. Though, being diffused over a wide space, they +appear less numerous than they really are, it has been our incessant +care to abstain from that method of redundant annotation, which tends to +display the ingenuity or mental resources of an editor, much more than +to illustrate the original writer. Notes have been chiefly introduced +for the purpose of guarding our readers against some political sophisms, +or to correct some hasty error. But happily, in the writings to which we +have devoted our time and attention, the chaff and dross lie so open to +view, and are so easily separated from purer matter, that a hint is +sufficient to protect the most incautious from harm. Accordingly, in our +notes and prefaces we have confined ourselves to simple and succinct +histories of the respective works under consideration, and have avoided, +as much as might be, a burdensome repetition of criticisms or anecdotes, +in almost every person's possession, or an idle pointing out of beauties +which none could fail to recognise. The length of time that has elapsed +since the writings of Johnson were first published, has amply developed +their intrinsic merits, and destroyed the personal and party prejudices +which assail a living author: but the years have been too few to render +the customs and manners alluded to so obsolete as to require much +illustrative research.[a] It may be satisfactory to subjoin, that care +has been exercised in every thing that we have advanced, and that when +we have erred, it has been on the side of caution. + +All the usually received works of Dr. Johnson, together with Murphy's +Essay on his Life and Genius, are comprised in this edition. In +pursuance of our plan of brevity, we shall not here give a list of his +minor and unacknowledged productions, but refer our readers to Boswell; +a new, amended, and enlarged edition of whose interesting and +picturesque Memoirs we purpose speedily to present to the public, after +the style and manner of the present work. + +One very important addition, however, we conceive that we have made, in +publishing the whole of his sermons. It has been hitherto the practice +to give one or two, with a cursory notice, that Johnson's theological +knowledge was scanty, or unworthy of his general fame. We have acted +under a very different impression; for though Johnson was not, nor +pretended to be, a polemical or controversial divine, he well knew how +to apply to the right regulation of our moral conduct the lessons of +that Christianity which was not promulged for a sect, but for mankind; +which sought not a distinctive garb in the philosopher's grove, nor +secluded itself in the hermit's cell, but entered without reserve every +walk of life, and sympathized with all the instinctive feelings of our +common nature. This high privilege of our religion Johnson felt, and to +the diffusion of its practical, not of its theoretical advantages, he +applied the energies of his heart and mind; and with what success, we +leave to every candid reader to pronounce. + +In conclusion, we would express a hope that we shall not inaptly +commence a series of OXFORD ENGLISH CLASSICS with the works of one whose +writings have so enlarged and embellished the science of moral evidence, +which has long constituted a characteristic feature in the literary +discipline of this university. The science of mind and its progress, as +recorded by history, or unfolded by biography, was Johnson's favourite +study, and is still the main object of pursuit in the place whose system +and institutions he so warmly praised, and to which he ever professed +himself so deeply indebted. If the terseness of attic simplicity has +been desiderated by some in the pages of Johnson, they undeniably +display the depth of thought, the weight of argument, the insight into +mind and morals, which are to be found in their native dignity only in +the compositions of those older writers with whose spirit he was so +richly imbued. In this place, then, where those models which Johnson +admired and imitated are still upheld as the only sure guides to sound +learning, his writings can never be laid aside unread and neglected. + +OXFORD, JUNE 23, 1825. + +[a] See a remark on this subject made by Johnson, with reference to the +Spectator, and all other works of the same class, which describe +manners. Boswell, ii. 218, and Prefatory Notice to Rambler, vol. i. + + + + +CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. + +ESSAY on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson + +POEMS. + +London + +The Vanity of Human Wishes + +Prologue, spoken by Mr. Garrick, at the opening of the theatre-royal, +Drury lane + +Prefatory Notice to the tragedy of Irene + +Prologue + +Irene + +Epilogue, by sir William Yonge + +Prologue to the masque of Comus + +Prologue to the comedy of the Good-natured Man + +Prologue to the comedy of a Word to the Wise + +Spring + +Midsummer + +Autumn + +Winter + +The Winter's Walk + +To Miss ****, on her giving the author a gold and silk network purse, of +her own weaving + +To Miss ****, on her playing upon the harpsichord, in a room hung with +flower-pieces of her own painting + +Evening; an ode + +To the same + +To a friend + +Stella in mourning + +To Stella + +Verses, written at the request of a gentleman, to whom a lady had given +a sprig of myrtle + +To lady Firebrace, at Bury assizes + +To Lyce, an elderly lady + +On the death of Mr. Robert Levet + +Epitaph on Claude Phillips + +Epitaphium in Thomam Hanmer, baronettum + +Paraphrase of the above, by Dr. Johnson + +To Miss Hickman, playing on the spinet + +Paraphrase of Proverbs, chap. vi. verses 6-11 + +Horace, lib. iv. ode vii. translated + +Anacreon, ode ix + +Lines written in ridicule of certain poems published in 1777 + +Parody of a translation from the Medea of Euripides + +Translation from the Medea of Euripides + +Translation of the two first stanzas of the song "Rio Verde, Rio Verde" + +Imitation of the style of **** + +Burlesque of some lines of Lopez de Vega + +Translation of some lines at the end of Baretti's Easy Phraseology + +Improviso translation of a distich on the duke of Modena's running away +from the comet in 1742 or 1743 + +Improviso translation of some lines of M. Benserade à son Lit + +Epitaph for Mr. Hogarth + +Translation of some lines, written under a print representing persons +skating + +Impromptu translation of the same + +To Mrs. Thrale, on her completing her thirty-fifth year + +Impromptu translation of an air in the Clemenza di Tito of Metastasio + +Translation of a speech of Aquileio in the Adriano of Metastasio + +Burlesque of the modern versifications of ancient legendary tales + +Friendship; an ode + +On seeing a bust of Mrs. Montague + +Improviso on a young heir's coming of age + +Epitaphs--on his father + + --his wife + + --Mrs. Bell + + --Mrs. Salusbury + + --Dr. Goldsmith + + --Mr. Thrale + +POEMATA + +Prefatory observations to the history of Rasselas + +Rasselas, prince of Abissinia + +LETTERS. + +I. To Mr. James Elphinston + +II. to XL. To Mrs. Thrale + +XLI. To Mr. Thrale + +XLII. to LIII. To Mrs. Thrale + +LIV. To Mrs. Piozzi + + + + +AN ESSAY +ON +THE LIFE AND GENIUS +OF +SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + +When the works of a great writer, who has bequeathed to posterity a +lasting legacy, are presented to the world, it is naturally expected +that some account of his life should accompany the edition. The reader +wishes to know as much as possible of the author. The circumstances that +attended him, the features of his private character, his conversation, +and the means by which he arose to eminence, become the favourite +objects of inquiry. Curiosity is excited; and the admirer of his works +is eager to know his private opinions, his course of study, the +particularities of his conduct, and, above all, whether he pursued the +wisdom which he recommends, and practised the virtue which his writings +inspire. A principle of gratitude is awakened in every generous mind. +For the entertainment and instruction which genius and diligence have +provided for the world, men of refined and sensible tempers are ready to +pay their tribute of praise, and even to form a posthumous friendship +with the author. + +In reviewing the life of such a writer, there is, besides, a rule of +justice to which the public have an undoubted claim. Fond admiration and +partial friendship should not be suffered to represent his virtues with +exaggeration; nor should malignity be allowed, under a specious +disguise, to magnify mere defects, the usual failings of human nature, +into vice or gross deformity. The lights and shades of the character +should be given; and if this be done with a strict regard to truth, a +just estimate of Dr. Johnson will afford a lesson, perhaps, as valuable +as the moral doctrine that speaks with energy in every page of his +works. + +The present writer enjoyed the conversation and friendship of that +excellent man more than thirty years. He thought it an honour to be so +connected, and to this hour he reflects on his loss with regret; but +regret, he knows, has secret bribes, by which the judgment may be +influenced, and partial affection may be carried beyond the bounds of +truth. In the present case, however, nothing needs to be disguised, and +exaggerated praise is unnecessary. It is an observation of the younger +Pliny, in his epistle to his friend Tacitus, that history ought never to +magnify matters of fact, because worthy actions require nothing but the +truth: "nam nec historia debet egredi veritatem, et honeste factis +veritas sufficit." This rule, the present biographer promises, shall +guide his pen throughout the following narrative. + +It may be said, the death of Dr. Johnson kept the public mind in +agitation beyond all former example. No literary character ever excited +so much attention; and, when the press has teemed with anecdotes, +apophthegms, essays, and publications of every kind, what occasion now +for a new tract on the same thread-bare subject? The plain truth shall +be the answer. The proprietors of Johnson's works thought the life, +which they prefixed to their former edition, too unwieldy for +republication. The prodigious variety of foreign matter, introduced into +that performance, seemed to overload the memory of Dr. Johnson, and, in +the account of his own life, to leave him hardly visible. They wished to +have a more concise, and, for that reason, perhaps, a more satisfactory +account, such as may exhibit a just picture of the man, and keep him the +principal figure in the foreground of his own picture. To comply with +that request is the design of this essay, which the writer undertakes +with a trembling hand. He has no discoveries, no secret anecdotes, no +occasional controversy, no sudden flashes of wit and humour, no private +conversation, and no new facts, to embellish his work. Every thing has +been gleaned. Dr. Johnson said of himself, "I am not uncandid, nor +severe: I sometimes say more than I mean, in jest, and people are apt to +think me serious[a]." The exercise of that privilege, which is enjoyed +by every man in society, has not been allowed to him. His fame has given +importance even to trifles; and the zeal of his friends has brought +every thing to light. What should be related, and what should not, has +been published without distinction: "dicenda tacenda locuti!" Every +thing that fell from him has been caught with eagerness by his admirers, +who, as he says in one of his letters, have acted with the diligence of +spies upon his conduct. To some of them the following lines, in Mallet's +poem on verbal criticism, are not inapplicable: + + "Such that grave bird in northern seas is found. + Whose name a Dutchman only knows to sound; + Where'er the king of fish moves on before, + This humble friend attends from shore to shore; + With eye still earnest, and with bill inclined, + He picks up what his patron drops behind, + With those choice cates his palate to regale, + And is the careful Tibbald of a whale." + +After so many essays and volumes of Johnsoniana, what remains for the +present writer? Perhaps, what has not been attempted; a short, yet full, +a faithful, yet temperate, history of Dr. Johnson. + +SAMUEL JOHNSON was born at Lichfield, September 7, 1709, O. S[b]. His +father, Michael Johnson, was a bookseller in that city; a man of large, +athletic make, and violent passions; wrong-headed, positive, and, at +times, afflicted with a degree of melancholy, little short of madness. +His mother was sister to Dr. Ford, a practising physician, and father of +Cornelius Ford, generally known by the name of parson Ford, the same who +is represented near the punch-bowl in Hogarth's Midnight Modern +Conversation. In the life of Fenton, Johnson says, that "his abilities, +instead of furnishing convivial merriment to the voluptuous and +dissolute, might have enabled him to excel among the virtuous and the +wise." Being chaplain to the earl of Chesterfield, he wished to attend +that nobleman on his embassy to the Hague. Colley Cibber has recorded +the anecdote. "You should go," said the witty peer, "if to your many +vices you would add one more." "Pray, my lord, what is that?" +"Hypocrisy, my dear doctor." Johnson had a younger brother named +Nathaniel, who died at the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Michael +Johnson, the father, was chosen, in the year 1718, under bailiff of +Lichfield; and, in the year 1725, he served the office of the senior +bailiff. He had a brother of the name of Andrew, who, for some years, +kept the ring at Smithfield, appropriated to wrestlers and boxers. Our +author used to say, that he was never thrown or conquered. Michael, the +father, died December 1731, at the age of seventy-six: his mother at +eighty-nine, of a gradual decay, in the year 1759. Of the family nothing +more can be related worthy of notice. Johnson did not delight in talking +of his relations. "There is little pleasure," he said to Mrs. Piozzi, +"in relating the anecdotes of beggary." + +Johnson derived from his parents, or from an unwholesome nurse, the +distemper called the king's evil. The Jacobites at that time believed in +the efficacy of the royal touch, and, accordingly, Mrs. Johnson +presented her son, when two years old, before queen Anne, who, for the +first time, performed that office, and communicated to her young patient +all the healing virtue in her power[c]. He was afterwards cut for that +scrophulous humour, and the under part of his face was seamed and +disfigured by the operation. It is supposed, that this disease deprived +him of the sight of his left eye, and also impaired his hearing. At +eight years old, he was placed under Mr. Hawkins, at the free school in +Lichfield, where he was not remarkable for diligence or regular +application. Whatever he read, his tenacious memory made his own. In the +fields, with his schoolfellows, he talked more to himself than with his +companions. In 1725, when he was about sixteen years old, he went on a +visit to his cousin Cornelius Ford, who detained him for some months, +and, in the mean time, assisted him in the classics. The general +direction for his studies, which he then received, he related to Mrs. +Piozzi. "Obtain," says Ford, "some general principles of every science: +he who can talk only on one subject, or act only in one department, is +seldom wanted, and, perhaps, never wished for; while the man of general +knowledge can often benefit, and always please." This advice Johnson +seems to have pursued with a good inclination. His reading was always +desultory, seldom resting on any particular author, but rambling from +one book to another, and, by hasty snatches, hoarding up a variety of +knowledge. It may be proper, in this place, to mention another general +rule laid down by Ford for Johnson's future conduct: "You will make your +way the more easily in the world, as you are contented to dispute no +man's claim to conversation excellence: they will, therefore, more +willingly allow your pretensions as a writer." "But," says Mrs. Piozzi, +"the features of peculiarity, which mark a character to all succeeding +generations, are slow in coming to their growth." That ingenious lady +adds, with her usual vivacity, "Can one, on such an occasion, forbear +recollecting the predictions of Boileau's father, who said, stroking the +head of the young satirist, 'This little man has too much wit, but he +will never speak ill of any one.'" + +On Johnson's return from Cornelius Ford, Mr. Hunter, then master of the +free school at Lichfield, refused to receive him again on that +foundation. At this distance of time, what his reasons were, it is vain +to inquire; but to refuse assistance to a lad of promising genius must +be pronounced harsh and illiberal. It did not, however, stop the +progress of the young student's education. He was placed at another +school, at Stourbridge in Worcestershire, under the care of Mr. +Wentworth. Having gone through the rudiments of classic literature, he +returned to his father's house, and was probably intended for the trade +of a bookseller. He has been heard to say that he could bind a book. At +the end of two years, being then about nineteen, he went to assist the +studies of a young gentleman, of the name of Corbet, to the university +of Oxford; and on the 31st of October, 1728, both were entered of +Pembroke college; Corbet as a gentleman-commoner, and Johnson as a +commoner. The college tutor, Mr. Jordan, was a man of no genius; and +Johnson, it seems, shewed an early contempt of mean abilities, in one or +two instances behaving with insolence to that gentleman. Of his general +conduct at the university there are no particulars that merit attention, +except the translation of Pope's Messiah, which was a college exercise +imposed upon him as a task by Mr. Jordan. Corbet left the university in +about two years, and Johnson's salary ceased. He was, by consequence, +straitened in his circumstances; but he still remained at college. Mr. +Jordan, the tutor, went off to a living; and was succeeded by Dr. Adams, +who afterwards became head of the college, and was esteemed through life +for his learning, his talents, and his amiable character. Johnson grew +more regular in his attendance. Ethics, theology, and classic +literature, were his favourite studies. He discovered, notwithstanding, +early symptoms of that wandering disposition of mind, which adhered to +him to the end of his life. His reading was by fits and starts, +undirected to any particular science. General philology, agreeably to +his cousin Ford's advice, was the object of his ambition. He received, +at that time, an early impression of piety, and a taste for the best +authors, ancient and modern. It may, notwithstanding, be questioned +whether, except his bible, he ever read a book entirely through. Late in +life, if any man praised a book in his presence, he was sure to ask, +"Did you read it through?" If the answer was in the affirmative, he did +not seem willing to believe it. He continued at the university, till the +want of pecuniary supplies obliged him to quit the place. He obtained, +however, the assistance of a friend, and, returning in a short time, was +able to complete a residence of three years. The history of his exploits +at Oxford, he used to say, was best known to Dr. Taylor and Dr. Adams. +Wonders are told of his memory, and, indeed, all who knew him late in +life can witness, that he retained that faculty in the greatest vigour. + +From the university, Johnson returned to Lichfield. His father died soon +after, December, 1731; and the whole receipt out of his effects, as +appeared by a memorandum in the son's handwriting, dated 15th of June, +1732, was no more than twenty pounds[d]. In this exigence, determined +that poverty should neither depress his spirits nor warp his integrity, +he became under-master of a grammar school at Market Bosworth, in +Leicestershire. That resource, however, did not last long. Disgusted by +the pride of sir Wolstan Dixie, the patron of that little seminary, he +left the place in discontent, and ever after spoke of it with +abhorrence. In 1733, he went on a visit to Mr. Hector, who had been his +schoolfellow, and was then a surgeon at Birmingham, lodging at the house +of Warren, a bookseller. At that place Johnson translated a Voyage to +Abyssinia, written by Jerome Lobo, a Portuguese missionary. This was the +first literary work from the pen of Dr. Johnson. His friend, Hector, was +occasionally his amanuensis. The work was, probably, undertaken at the +desire of Warren, the bookseller, and was printed at Birmingham; but it +appears, in the Literary Magazine, or history of the works of the +learned, for March, 1735, that it was published by Bettesworth and +Hitch, Paternoster row. It contains a narrative of the endeavours of a +company of missionaries to convert the people of Abyssinia to the church +of Rome. In the preface to this work, Johnson observes, "that the +Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general view of his countrymen, +has amused his readers with no romantick absurdities, or incredible +fictions. He appears, by his modest and unaffected narration, to have +described things, as he saw them; to have copied nature from the life; +and to have consulted his senses, not his imagination. He meets with no +basilisks, that destroy with their eyes; his crocodiles devour their +prey, without tears; and his cataracts fall from the rock, without +deafening the neighbouring inhabitants. The reader will here find no +regions cursed with irremediable barrenness, or blessed with spontaneous +fecundity; no perpetual gloom, or unceasing sunshine; nor are the +nations, here described, either void of all sense of humanity, or +consummate in all private and social virtues; here are no Hottentots +without religion, polity or articulate language; no Chinese perfectly +polite, and completely skilled in all sciences; he will discover, what +will always be discovered by a diligent and impartial inquirer, that, +wherever human nature is to be found, there is a mixture of vice and +virtue, a contest of passion and reason; and that the Creator doth not +appear partial in his distributions, but has balanced, in most +countries, their particular inconveniencies, by particular favours."--We +have here an early specimen of Johnson's manner; the vein of thinking, +and the frame of the sentences, are manifestly his: we see the infant +Hercules. The translation of Lobo's narrative has been reprinted lately +in a separate volume, with some other tracts of Dr. Johnson's, and, +therefore, forms no part of this edition; but a compendious account of +so interesting a work, as father Lobo's discovery of the head of the +Nile, will not, it is imagined, be unacceptable to the reader. + +"Father Lobo, the Portuguese missionary, embarked, in 1622, in the same +fleet with the count Vidigueira, who was appointed, by the king of +Portugal, viceroy of the Indies. They arrived at Goa; and, in January +1624, father Lobo set out on the mission to Abyssinia. Two of the +Jesuits, sent on the same commission, were murdered in their attempt to +penetrate into that empire. Lobo had better success; he surmounted all +difficulties, and made his way into the heart of the country. Then +follows a description of Abyssinia, formerly the largest empire of which +we have an account in history. It extended from the Red sea to the +kingdom of Congo, and from Egypt to the Indian sea, containing no less +than forty provinces. At the time of Lobo's mission, it was not much +larger than Spain, consisting then but of five kingdoms, of which part +was entirely subject to the emperour, and part paid him a tribute, as an +acknowledgment. The provinces were inhabited by Moors, Pagans, Jews, and +Christians. The last was, in Lobo's time, the established and reigning +religion. The diversity of people and religion is the reason why the +kingdom was under different forms of government, with laws and customs +extremely various. Some of the people neither sowed their lands, nor +improved them by any kind of culture, living upon milk and flesh, and, +like the Arabs, encamping without any settled habitation. In some places +they practised no rites of worship, though they believed that, in the +regions above, there dwells a being that governs the world. This deity +they call, in their language, Oul. The christianity, professed by the +people in some parts, is so corrupted with superstitions, errours, and +heresies, and so mingled with ceremonies borrowed from the Jews, that +little, besides the name of christianity, is to be found among them. The +Abyssins cannot properly be said to have either cities or houses; they +live in tents or cottages made of straw or clay, very rarely building +with stone. Their villages, or towns, consist of these huts; yet even of +such villages they have but few, because the grandees, the viceroys, and +the emperour himself, are always in camp, that they may be prepared, +upon the most sudden alarm, to meet every emergence in a country, which +is engaged, every year, either in foreign wars or intestine commotions. +Aethiopia produces very near the same kinds of provision as Portugal, +though, by the extreme laziness of the inhabitants, in a much less +quantity. What the ancients imagined of the torrid zone being a part of +the world uninhabitable, is so far from being true, that the climate is +very temperate. The blacks have better features than in other countries, +and are not without wit and ingenuity. Their apprehension is quick, and +their judgment sound. There are, in this climate, two harvests in the +year; one in winter, which lasts through the months of July, August, and +September; the other in the spring. They have, in the greatest plenty, +raisins peaches pomegranates, sugar-canes, and some figs. Most of these +are ripe about lent, which the Abyssins keep with great strictness. The +animals of the country are the lion, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the +unicorn, horses, mules, oxen, and cows without number. They have a very +particular custom, which obliges every man, that has a thousand cows, to +save every year one day's milk of all his herd, and make a bath with it +for his relations. This they do so many days in each year, as they have +thousands of cattle; so that, to express how rich a man is, they tell +you, 'he bathes so many times.' + +"Of the river Nile, which has furnished so much controversy, we have a +full and clear description. It is called, by the natives, Abavi, the +Father of Water. It rises in Sacala, a province of the kingdom of +Goiama, the most fertile and agreeable part of the Abyssinian dominions. +On the eastern side of the country, on the declivity of a mountain, +whose descent is so easy, that it seems a beautiful plain, is that +source of the Nile, which has been sought after, at so much expense and +labour. This spring, or rather these two springs, are two holes, each +about two feet diameter, a stone's cast distant from each other. One of +them is about five feet and a half in depth. Lobo was not able to sink +his plummet lower, perhaps, because it was stopped by roots, the whole +place being full of trees. A line of ten feet did not reach the bottom +of the other. These springs are supposed, by the Abyssins, to be the +vents of a great subterraneous lake. At a small distance to the south, +is a village called Guix, through which you ascend to the top of the +mountain, where there is a little hill, which the idolatrous Agaci hold +in great veneration. Their priest calls them together to this place once +a year; and every one sacrifices a cow, or more, according to the +different degrees of wealth and devotion. Hence we have sufficient +proof, that these nations always paid adoration to the deity of this +famous river. + +"As to the course of the Nile, its waters, after their first rise, run +towards the east, about the length of a musket-shot; then, turning +northward, continue hidden in the grass and weeds for about a quarter of +a league, when they reappear amongst a quantity of rocks. The Nile, from +its source, proceeds with so inconsiderable a current that it is in +danger of being dried up by the hot season; but soon receiving an +increase from the Gemma, the Keltu, the Bransa, and the other smaller +rivers, it expands to such a breadth in the plains of Boad, which is not +above three days' journey from its source, that a musket-ball will +scarcely fly from one bank to the other. Here it begins to run +northward, winding, however, a little to the east, for the space of nine +or ten leagues, and then enters the so-much-talked-of lake of Dambia, +flowing with such violent rapidity, that its waters may be distinguished +through the whole passage, which is no less than six leagues. Here +begins the greatness of the Nile. Fifteen miles farther, in the land of +Alata, it rushes precipitately from the top of a high rock, and forms +one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the world. Lobo says, he passed +under it without being wet, and resting himself, for the sake of the +coolness, was charmed with a thousand delightful rainbows, which the +sunbeams painted on the water, in all their shining and lively +colours[e]. The fall of this mighty stream, from so great a height, +makes a noise that may be heard at a considerable distance: but it was +not found, that the neighbouring inhabitants were deaf. After the +cataract, the Nile collects its scattered stream among the rocks, which +are so near each other, that, in Lobo's time, a bridge of beams, on +which the whole imperial army passed, was laid over them. Sultan Sequed +has since built a stone bridge of one arch, in the same place, for which +purpose he procured masons from India. Here the river alters its course, +and passes through various kingdoms, such as Amhara, Olaca, Choaa, +Damot, and the kingdom of Goiama, and, after various windings, returns +within a short day's journey of its spring. To pursue it through all its +mazes, and accompany it round the kingdom of Goiama, is a journey of +twenty-nine days. From Abyssinia, the river passes into the countries of +Fazulo and Ombarca, two vast regions little known, inhabited by nations +entirely different from the Abyssins. Their hair, like that of the other +blacks in those regions, is short and curled. In the year 1615, Rassela +Christos, lieutenant-general to sultan Sequed, entered those kingdoms in +a hostile manner; but, not being able to get intelligence, returned +without attempting any thing. As the empire of Abyssinia terminates at +these descents, Lobo followed the course of the Nile no farther, leaving +it to rage over barbarous kingdoms, and convey wealth and plenty into +Aegypt, which owes to the annual inundations of this river its envied +fertility[f]. Lobo knows nothing of the Nile in the rest of its passage, +except that it receives great increase from many other rivers, has +several cataracts like that already described, and that few fish are to +be found in it: that scarcity is to be attributed to the river-horse, +and the crocodile, which destroy the weaker inhabitants of the river. +Something, likewise, must be imputed to the cataracts, where fish cannot +fall without being killed. Lobo adds, that neither he, nor any with whom +he conversed about the crocodile, ever saw him weep; and, therefore, all +that hath been said about his tears, must be ranked among the fables, +invented for the amusement of children. + +"As to the causes of the inundations of the Nile, Lobo observes, that +many an idle hypothesis has been framed. Some theorists ascribe it to +the high winds, that stop the current, and force the water above its +banks. Others pretend a subterraneous communication between the ocean +and the Nile, and that the sea, when violently agitated, swells the +river. Many are of opinion, that this mighty flood proceeds from the +melting of the snow on the mountains of Aethiopia; but so much snow and +such prodigious heat are never met with in the same region. Lobo never +saw snow in Abyssinia, except on mount Semen, in the kingdom of Tigre, +very remote from the Nile; and on Namara, which is, indeed, nor far +distant, but where there never falls snow enough to wet, when dissolved, +the foot of the mountain. To the immense labours of the Portuguese +mankind is indebted for the knowledge of the real cause of these +inundations, so great and so regular. By them we are informed, that +Abyssinia, where the Nile rises, is full of mountains, and, in its +natural situation, is much higher than Aegypt; that in the winter, from +June to September, no day is without rain; that the Nile receives in its +course, all the rivers, brooks, and torrents, that fall from those +mountains, and, by necessary consequence, swelling above its banks, +fills the plains of Aegypt with inundations, which come regularly about +the month of July, or three weeks after the beginning of the rainy +season in Aethiopia. The different degrees of this flood are such +certain indications of the fruitfulness or sterility of the ensuing +year, that it is publickly proclaimed at Cairo how much the water hath +gained during the night." + +Such is the account of the Nile and its inundations, which, it is hoped, +will not be deemed an improper or tedious digression, especially as the +whole is an extract from Johnson's translation. He is, all the time, the +actor in the scene, and, in his own words, relates the story. Having +finished this work, he returned in February, 1734, to his native city; +and, in the month of August following, published proposals for printing, +by subscription, the Latin poems of Politian, with the history of Latin +poetry, from the aera of Petrarch to the time of Politian; and also the +life of Politian, to be added by the editor, Samuel Johnson. The book to +be printed in thirty octavo sheets, price five shillings. It is to be +regretted that this project failed for want of encouragement. Johnson, +it seems, differed from Boileau, Voltaire, and D'Alembert, who had taken +upon them to proscribe all modern efforts to write with elegance in a +dead language. For a decision pronounced in so high a tone, no good +reason can be assigned. The interests of learning require, that the +diction of Greece and Rome should be cultivated with care; and he who +can write a language with correctness, will be most likely to understand +its idiom, its grammar, and its peculiar graces of style. What man of +taste would willingly forego the pleasure of reading Vida, Fracastorius, +Sannazaro, Strada, and others, down to the late elegant productions of +bishop Lowth? The history which Johnson proposed to himself would, +beyond all question, have been a valuable addition to the history of +letters; but his project failed. His next expedient was to offer his +assistance to Cave, the original projector of the Gentleman's Magazine. +For this purpose he sent his proposals in a letter, offering, on +reasonable terms, occasionally to fill some pages with poems and +inscriptions, never printed before; with fugitive pieces that deserved +to be revived, and critical remarks on authors, ancient and modern. Cave +agreed to retain him as a correspondent and contributor to the magazine. +What the conditions were cannot now be known; but, certainly, they were +not sufficient to hinder Johnson from casting his eyes about him in +quest of other employment. Accordingly, in 1735, he made overtures to +the reverend Mr. Budworth, master of a grammar school at Brerewood, in +Staffordshire, to become his assistant. This proposition did not +succeed. Mr. Budworth apprehended, that the involuntary motions, to +which Johnson's nerves were subject, might make him an object of +ridicule with his scholars, and, by consequence, lessen their respect +for their master. Another mode of advancing himself presented itself +about this time. Mrs. Porter, the widow of a mercer in Birmingham, +admired his talents. It is said, that she had about eight hundred +pounds; and that sum, to a person in Johnson's circumstances, was an +affluent fortune. A marriage took place; and, to turn his wife's money +to the best advantage, he projected the scheme of an academy for +education. Gilbert Walmsley, at that time, registrar of the +ecclesiastical court of the bishop of Lichfield, was distinguished by +his erudition, and the politeness of his manners. He was the friend of +Johnson, and, by his weight and influence, endeavoured to promote his +interest. The celebrated Garrick, whose father, captain Garrick, lived +at Lichfield, was placed in the new seminary of education by that +gentleman's advice.--Garrick was then about eighteen years old. An +accession of seven or eight pupils was the most that could be obtained, +though notice was given by a public advertisement[g], that at Edial, +near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young gentlemen are boarded and taught +the Latin and Greek languages, by Samuel Johnson. + +The undertaking proved abortive. Johnson, having now abandoned all hopes +of promoting his fortune in the country, determined to become an +adventurer in the world at large. His young pupil, Garrick, had formed +the same resolution; and, accordingly, in March, 1737, they arrived in +London together. Two such candidates for fame, perhaps never, before +that day, entered the metropolis together. Their stock of money was soon +exhausted. In his visionary project of an academy, Johnson had probably +wasted his wife's substance; and Garrick's father had little more than +his half-pay.--The two fellow-travellers had the world before them, and +each was to choose his road to fortune and to fame. They brought with +them genius, and powers of mind, peculiarly formed by nature for the +different vocations to which each of them felt himself inclined. They +acted from the impulse of young minds, even then meditating great +things, and with courage anticipating success. Their friend, Mr. +Walmsley, by a letter to the reverend Mr. Colson, who, it seems, was a +great mathematician, exerted his good offices in their favour. He gave +notice of their intended journey: "Davy Garrick," he said, "will be with +you next week; and Johnson, to try his fate with a tragedy, and to get +himself employed in some translation, either from the Latin or French. +Johnson is a very good scholar and a poet, and, I have great hopes, will +turn out a fine tragedy-writer. If it should be in your way, I doubt not +but you will be ready to recommend and assist your countrymen." Of Mr. +Walmsley's merit, and the excellence of his character, Johnson has left +a beautiful testimonial at the end of the life of Edmund Smith. It is +reasonable to conclude, that a mathematician, absorbed in abstract +speculations, was not able to find a sphere of action for two men, who +were to be the architects of their own fortune. In three or four years +afterwards, Garrick came forth with talents that astonished the public. +He began his career at Goodman's fields, and there, "monstratus fatis +Vespasianus!" he chose a lucrative profession, and, consequently, soon +emerged from all his difficulties. Johnson was left to toil in the +humble walks of literature. A tragedy, as appears by Walmsley's letter, +was the whole of his stock. This, most probably, was Irene; but, if then +finished, it was doomed to wait for a more happy period. It was offered +to Fleetwood, and rejected. Johnson looked round him for employment. +Having, while he remained in the country, corresponded with Cave, under +a feigned name, he now thought it time to make himself known to a man, +whom he considered as a patron of literature. Cave had announced, by +public advertisement, a prize of fifty pounds for the best poem on life, +death, judgment, heaven, and hell; and this circumstance diffused an +idea of his liberality. Johnson became connected with him in business, +and in a close and intimate acquaintance. Of Cave's character it is +unnecessary to say any thing in this place, as Johnson was afterwards +the biographer of his first and most useful patron. To be engaged in the +translation of some important book was still the object which Johnson +had in view. For this purpose, he proposed to give the history of the +council of Trent, with copious notes, then lately added to a French +edition. Twelve sheets of this work were printed, for which Johnson +received forty-nine pounds, as appears by his receipt, in the +possession of Mr. Nichols, the compiler of that entertaining and useful +work, The Gentleman's Magazine. Johnson's translation was never +completed: a like design was offered to the public, under the patronage +of Dr. Zachary Pearce; and, by that contention, both attempts were +frustrated. Johnson had been commended by Pope, for the translation of +the Messiah into Latin verse; but he knew no approach to so eminent a +man. With one, however, who was connected with Pope, he became +acquainted at St. John's gate; and that person was no other than the +well-known Richard Savage, whose life was afterwards written by Johnson +with great elegance, and a depth of moral reflection. Savage was a man +of considerable talents. His address, his various accomplishments, and, +above all, the peculiarity of his misfortunes, recommended him to +Johnson's notice. They became united in the closest intimacy. Both had +great parts, and they were equally under the pressure of want. Sympathy +joined them in a league of friendship. Johnson has been often heard to +relate, that he and Savage walked round Grosvenor square till four in +the morning; in the course of their conversation reforming the world, +dethroning princes, establishing new forms of government, and giving +laws to the several states of Europe, till, fatigued at length with +their legislative office, they began to feel the want of refreshment, +but could not muster up more than four-pence-halfpenny. Savage, it is +true, had many vices; but vice could never strike its roots in a mind +like Johnson's, seasoned early with religion, and the principles of +moral rectitude. His first prayer was composed in the year 1738. He had +not, at that time, renounced the use of wine; and, no doubt, +occasionally enjoyed his friend and his bottle. The love of late hours, +which followed him through life, was, perhaps, originally contracted in +company with Savage. However that may be, their connexion was not of +long duration. In the year 1738, Savage was reduced to the last +distress. Mr. Pope, in a letter to him, expressed his concern for "the +miserable withdrawing of his pension after the death of the queen;" and +gave him hopes that, "in a short time, he should find himself supplied +with a competence, without any dependance on those little creatures, +whom we are pleased to call the great." The scheme proposed to him was, +that he should retire to Swansea in Wales, and receive an allowance of +fifty pounds a year, to be raised by subscription: Pope was to pay +twenty pounds. This plan, though finally established, took more than a +year before it was carried into execution. In the mean time, the +intended retreat of Savage called to Johnson's mind the third satire of +Juvenal, in which that poet takes leave of a friend, who was withdrawing +himself from all the vices of Rome. Struck with this idea, he wrote that +well-known poem, called London. The first lines manifestly point to +Savage. + + "Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel, + When injur'd Thales bids the town farewell; + Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend; + I praise the hermit, but regret the friend: + Resolv'd, at length, from vice and London far, + To breathe, in distant fields, a purer air; + And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore, + Give to St. David one true Briton more." + +Johnson, at that time, lodged at Greenwich. He there fixes the scene, +and takes leave of his friend; who, he says in his life, parted from him +with tears in his eyes. The poem, when finished, was offered to Cave. It +happened, however, that the late Mr. Dodsley was the purchaser, at the +price of ten guineas. It was published in 1738; and Pope, we are told, +said, "The author, whoever he is, will not be long concealed;" alluding +to the passage in Terence, "Ubi, ubi est, diu celari non potest." +Notwithstanding that prediction, it does not appear that, besides the +copy-money, any advantage accrued to the author of a poem, written with +the elegance and energy of Pope. Johnson, in August, 1738, went, with +all the fame of his poetry, to offer himself a candidate for the +mastership of the school at Appleby, in Leicestershire. The statutes of +the place required, that the person chosen should be a master of arts. +To remove this objection, the then lord Gower was induced to write to a +friend, in order to obtain for Johnson a master's degree in the +university of Dublin, by the recommendation of Dr. Swift. The letter was +printed in one of the magazines, and was as follows: + +SIR,--Mr. Samuel Johnson, author of London, a satire, and some other +poetical pieces, is a native of this county, and much respected by some +worthy gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who are trustees of a +charity-school, now vacant; the certain salary of which is sixty pounds +per year, of which they are desirous to make him master; but, +unfortunately, he is not capable of receiving their bounty, which would +make him happy for life, by not being a master of arts, which, by the +statutes of the school, the master of it must be. + +Now these gentlemen do me the honour to think, that I have interest +enough in you, to prevail upon you to write to dean Swift, to persuade +the university of Dublin to send a diploma to me, constituting this poor +man master of arts in their university. They highly extol the man's +learning and probity; and will not be persuaded, that the university +will make any difficulty of conferring such a favour upon a stranger, if +he is recommended by the dean. They say, he is not afraid of the +strictest examination, though he is of so long a journey; and yet he +will venture it, if the dean thinks it necessary, choosing rather to die +upon the road, than to be starved to death in translating for +booksellers, which has been his only subsistence for some time past. + +I fear there is more difficulty in this affair than these good-natured +gentlemen apprehend, especially as their election cannot be delayed +longer than the eleventh of next month. If you see this matter in the +same light that it appears to me, I hope you will burn this, and pardon +me for giving you so much trouble about an impracticable thing; but, if +you think there is a probability of obtaining the favour asked, I am +sure your humanity and propensity to relieve merit, in distress, will +incline you to serve the poor man, without my adding any more to the +trouble I have already given you, than assuring you, that I am, with +great truth, sir, + +Your faithful humble servant, + +Trentham, Aug. 1st. GOWER. + +This scheme miscarried. There is reason to think, that Swift declined to +meddle in the business; and, to that circumstance, Johnson's known +dislike of Swift has been often imputed. + +It is mortifying to pursue a man of merit through all his difficulties; +and yet this narrative must be, through many following years, the +history of genius and virtue struggling with adversity. Having lost the +school at Appleby, Johnson was thrown back on the metropolis. Bred to no +profession, without relations, friends, or interest, he was condemned to +drudgery in the service of Cave, his only patron. In November, 1738, was +published a translation of Crousaz's Examen of Pope's Essay on Man; +containing a succinct view of the system of the fatalists, and a +confutation of their opinions; with an illustration of the doctrine of +free will; and an enquiry, what view Mr. Pope might have in touching +upon the Leibnitzian philosophy, and fatalism: by Mr. Crousaz, professor +of philosophy and mathematics at Lausanne. This translation has been +generally thought a production of Johnson's pen; but it is now known, +that Mrs. Elizabeth Carter has acknowledged it to be one of her early +performances. It is certain, however, that Johnson was eager to promote +the publication. He considered the foreign philosopher as a man zealous +in the cause of religion; and with him he was willing to join against +the system of the fatalists, and the doctrine of Leibnitz. It is well +known, that Warburton wrote a vindication of Mr. Pope; but there is +reason to think, that Johnson conceived an early prejudice against the +Essay on Man; and what once took root in a mind like his, was not easily +eradicated. His letter to Cave on this subject is still extant, and may +well justify sir John Hawkins, who inferred that Johnson was the +translator of Crousaz. The conclusion of the letter is remarkable: "I am +yours, Impransus." If by that Latin word was meant, that he had not +dined, because he wanted the means, who can read it, even at this hour, +without an aching heart? + +With a mind naturally vigorous, and quickened by necessity, Johnson +formed a multiplicity of projects; but most of them proved abortive. A +number of small tracts issued from his pen with wonderful rapidity; such +as Marmor Norfolciense; or an essay on an ancient prophetical +inscription, in monkish rhyme, discovered at Lynn, in Norfolk. By Probus +Britannicus. This was a pamphlet against sir Robert Walpole. According +to sir John Hawkins, a warrant was issued to apprehend the author, who +retired, with his wife, to an obscure lodging near Lambeth marsh, and +there eluded the search of the messengers. But this story has no +foundation in truth. Johnson was never known to mention such an incident +in his life; and Mr. Steele, late of the treasury, caused diligent +search to be made at the proper offices, and no trace of such a +proceeding could be found. In the same year (1739) the lord chamberlain +prohibited the representation of a tragedy, called Gustavus Vasa, by +Henry Brooke. Under the mask of irony, Johnson published, A Vindication +of the Licenser from the malicious and scandalous Aspersions of Mr. +Brooke. Of these two pieces, sir John Hawkins says, "they have neither +learning nor wit; nor a single ray of that genius, which has since +blazed forth;" but, as they have been lately reprinted, the reader, who +wishes to gratify his curiosity, is referred to the fourteenth volume of +Johnson's works, published by Stockdale[h]. The lives of Boerhaave, +Blake, Barratier, father Paul, and others, were, about that time, +printed in the Gentleman's Magazine. The subscription of fifty pounds a +year for Savage was completed; and, in July 1739, Johnson parted with +the companion of his midnight hours, never to see him more. The +separation was, perhaps, an advantage to him, who wanted to make a right +use of his time, and even then beheld, with self-reproach, the waste +occasioned by dissipation. His abstinence from wine and strong liquors +began soon after the departure of Savage. What habits he contracted in +the course of that acquaintance cannot now be known. The ambition of +excelling in conversation, and that pride of victory, which, at times, +disgraced a man of Johnson's genius, were, perhaps, native blemishes. A +fierce spirit of independence, even in the midst of poverty, may be seen +in Savage; and, if not thence transfused by Johnson into his own +manners, it may, at least, be supposed to have gained strength from the +example before him. During that connexion, there was, if we believe sir +John Hawkins, a short separation between our author and his wife; but a +reconciliation soon took place. Johnson loved her, and showed his +affection in various modes of gallantry, which Garrick used to render +ridiculous by his mimicry. The affectation of soft and fashionable airs +did not become an unwieldy figure: his admiration was received by the +wife with the flutter of an antiquated coquette; and both, it is well +known, furnished matter for the lively genius of Garrick. + +It is a mortifying reflection, that Johnson, with a store of learning +and extraordinary talents, was not able, at the age of thirty, to force +his way to the favour of the public: + + "Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd." + +"He was still," as he says himself, "to provide for the day that was +passing over him." He saw Cave involved in a state of warfare with the +numerous competitors, at that time, struggling with the Gentleman's +Magazine; and gratitude for such supplies as Johnson received, dictated +a Latin ode on the subject of that contention. The first lines, + + "Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus, + Urbane, nullis victe calumniis," + +put one in mind of Casimir's ode to Pope Urban: + + "Urbane, regum maxime, maxime + Urbane vatum."-- + +The Polish poet was, probably, at that time, in the hands of a man, who +had meditated the history of the Latin poets. Guthrie, the historian, +had, from July, 1736, composed the parliamentary speeches for the +magazine; but, from the beginning of the session, which opened on the +19th of November, 1740, Johnson succeeded to that department, and +continued it from that time to the debate on spirituous liquors, which +happened in the house of lords, in February, 1742-3. The eloquence, the +force of argument, and the splendor of language, displayed in the +several speeches, are well known, and universally admired. That Johnson +was the author of the debates, during that period, was not generally +known; but the secret transpired several years afterwards, and was +avowed, by himself, on the following occasion. Mr. Wedderburne, now lord +Loughborough[i], Dr. Johnson, Dr. Francis, the translator of Horace, the +present writer, and others, dined with the late Mr. Foote. An important +debate, towards the end of sir Robert Walpole's administration, being +mentioned, Dr. Francis observed, "that Mr. Pitt's speech, on that +occasion, was the best he had ever read." He added, "that he had +employed eight years of his life in the study of Demosthenes, and +finished a translation of that celebrated orator, with all the +decorations of style and language within the reach of his capacity; but +he had met with nothing equal to the speech above mentioned." Many of +the company remembered the debate, and some passages were cited, with +the approbation and applause of all present. During the ardour of +conversation, Johnson remained silent. As soon as the warmth of praise +subsided, he opened with these words: "That speech I wrote in a garret +in Exeter street." The company was struck with astonishment. After +staring at each other in silent amaze, Dr. Francis asked, "how that +speech could be written by him?" "Sir," said Johnson, "I wrote it in +Exeter street. I never had been in the gallery of the house of commons +but once. Cave had interest with the door-keepers. He, and the persons +employed under him, gained admittance; they brought away the subject of +discussion, the names of the speakers, the side they took, and the order +in which they rose, together with notes of the arguments advanced in the +course of the debate. The whole was afterwards communicated to me, and I +composed the speeches in the form which they now have in the +parliamentary debates." To this discovery, Dr. Francis made answer: +"Then, sir, you have exceeded Demosthenes himself; for to say, that you +have exceeded Francis's Demosthenes, would be saying nothing." The rest +of the company bestowed lavish encomiums on Johnson: one, in particular, +praised his impartiality; observing, that he dealt out reason and +eloquence, with an equal hand to both parties. "That is not quite true," +said Johnson; "I saved appearances tolerably well; but I took care that +the WHIG DOGS should not have the best of it." The sale of the magazine +was greatly increased by the parliamentary debates, which were continued +by Johnson till the month of March, 1742-3. From that time the magazine +was conducted by Dr. Hawkesworth. + +In 1743-4, Osborne, the bookseller, who kept a shop in Gray's inn, +purchased the earl of Oxford's library, at the price of thirteen +thousand pounds. He projected a catalogue in five octavo volumes, at +five shillings each. Johnson was employed in that painful drudgery. He +was, likewise, to collect all such small tracts as were, in any degree, +worth preserving, in order to reprint and publish the whole in a +collection, called The Harleian Miscellany. The catalogue was completed; +and the miscellany, in 1749, was published in eight quarto volumes. In +this business Johnson was a day-labourer for immediate subsistence, not +unlike Gustavus Vasa, working in the mines of Dalecarlia. What Wilcox, a +bookseller of eminence in the Strand, said to Johnson, on his first +arrival in town, was now almost confirmed. He lent our author five +guineas, and then asked him, "How do you mean to earn your livelihood in +this town?" "By my literary labours," was the answer. Wilcox, staring at +him, shook his head: "By your literary labours! You had better buy a +porter's knot." Johnson used to tell this anecdote to Mr. Nichols: but +he said, "Wilcox was one of my best friends, and he meant well." In +fact, Johnson, while employed in Gray's inn, may be said to have carried +a porter's knot. He paused occasionally to peruse the book that came to +his hand. Osborne thought that such curiosity tended to nothing but +delay, and objected to it with all the pride and insolence of a man who +knew that he paid daily wages. In the dispute that of course ensued, +Osborne, with that roughness which was natural to him, enforced his +argument by giving the lie. Johnson seized a folio, and knocked the +bookseller down. This story has been related as an instance of Johnson's +ferocity; but merit cannot always take the spurns of the unworthy with a +patient spirit[k]. + +That the history of an author must be found in his works is, in general, +a true observation; and was never more apparent than in the present +narrative. Every aera of Johnson's life is fixed by his writings. In +1744, he published the life of Savage; and then projected a new edition +of Shakespeare. As a prelude to that design, he published, in 1745, +Miscellaneous Observations on the Tragedy of Macbeth, with remarks on +sir Thomas Hanmer's edition; to which were prefixed, Proposals for a new +Edition of Shakespeare, with a specimen. Of this pamphlet, Warburton, in +the preface to Shakespeare, has given his opinion: "As to all those +things, which have been published under the title of essays, remarks, +observations, &c. on Shakespeare, if you except some critical notes on +Macbeth, given as a specimen of a projected edition, and written, as +appears, by a man of parts and genius, the rest are absolutely below a +serious notice." But the attention of the public was not excited; there +was no friend to promote a subscription; and the project died to revive +at a future day. A new undertaking, however, was soon after proposed; +namely, an English dictionary upon an enlarged plan. Several of the most +opulent booksellers had meditated a work of this kind; and the agreement +was soon adjusted between the parties. Emboldened by this connexion, +Johnson thought of a better habitation than he had hitherto known. He +had lodged with his wife in courts and alleys about the Strand; but now, +for the purpose of carrying on his arduous undertaking, and to be nearer +his printer and friend, Mr. Strahan, he ventured to take a house in +Gough square, Fleet street. He was told, that the earl of Chesterfield +was a friend to his undertaking; and, in consequence of that +intelligence, he published, in 1747, The Plan of a Dictionary of the +English Language, addressed to the right honourable Philip Dormer, earl +of Chesterfield, one of his majesty's principal secretaries of state. +Mr. Whitehead, afterwards poet laureate, undertook to convey the +manuscript to his lordship: the consequence was an invitation from lord +Chesterfield to the author. A stronger contrast of characters could not +be brought together; the nobleman, celebrated for his wit, and all the +graces of polite behaviour; the author, conscious of his own merit, +towering in idea above all competition, versed in scholastic logic, but +a stranger to the arts of polite conversation, uncouth, vehement, and +vociferous. The coalition was too unnatural. Johnson expected a +Maecenas, and was disappointed. No patronage, no assistance followed. +Visits were repeated; but the reception was not cordial. Johnson, one +day, was left a full hour, waiting in an antichamber, till a gentleman +should retire, and leave his lordship at leisure. This was the famous +Colley Cibber. Johnson saw him go, and, fired with indignation, rushed +out of the house[l]. What lord Chesterfield thought of his visitor may +be seen in a passage in one of that nobleman's letters to his son[m]. +"There is a man, whose moral character, deep learning, and superior +parts, I acknowledge, admire, and respect; but whom it is so impossible +for me to love, that I am almost in a fever, whenever I am in his +company. His figure (without being deformed) seems made to disgrace or +ridicule the common structure of the human body. His legs and arms are +never in the position which, according to the situation of his body, +they ought to be in, but constantly employed in committing acts of +hostility upon the graces. He throws any where, but down his throat, +whatever he means to drink; and mangles what he means to carve. +Inattentive to all the regards of social life, he mistimes and misplaces +every thing. He disputes with heat indiscriminately, mindless of the +rank, character, and situation of those with whom he disputes. +Absolutely ignorant of the several gradations of familiarity and +respect, he is exactly the same to his superiors, his equals, and his +inferiors; and, therefore, by a necessary consequence, is absurd to two +of the three. Is it possible to love such a man? No. The utmost I can do +for him is, to consider him a respectable Hottentot." Such was the idea +entertained by lord Chesterfield. After the incident of Colley Cibber, +Johnson never repeated his visits. In his high and decisive tone, he has +been often heard to say, "lord Chesterfield is a wit among lords, and a +lord among wits." + +In the course of the year 1747, Garrick, in conjunction with Lacy, +became patentee of Drury lane playhouse. For the opening of the theatre, +at the usual time, Johnson wrote, for his friend, the well-known +prologue, which, to say no more of it, may, at least, be placed on a +level with Pope's to the tragedy of Cato. The playhouse being now under +Garrick's direction, Johnson thought the opportunity fair to think of +his tragedy of Irene, which was his whole stock on his first arrival in +town, in the year 1737. That play was, accordingly, put into rehearsal +in January, 1749. As a precursor to prepare the way, and to awaken the +public attention, The Vanity of human Wishes, a poem in imitation of the +tenth satire of Juvenal, by the author of London, was published in the +same month. In the Gentleman's Magazine, for February, 1749, we find +that the tragedy of Irene was acted at Drury lane, on Monday, February +the 6th, and, from that time, without interruption, to Monday, February +the 20th, being in all thirteen nights. Since that time, it has not been +exhibited on any stage. Irene may be added to some other plays in our +language, which have lost their place in the theatre, but continue to +please in the closet. During the representation of this piece, Johnson +attended every night behind the scenes. Conceiving that his character, +as an author, required some ornament for his person, he chose, upon that +occasion, to decorate himself with a handsome waistcoat, and a gold-laced +hat. The late Mr. Topham Beauclerc, who had a great deal of that +humour, which pleases the more for seeming undesigned, used to give a +pleasant description of this green-room finery, as related by the author +himself; "But," said Johnson, with great gravity, "I soon laid aside my +gold-laced hat, lest it should make me proud." The amount of the three +benefit nights for the tragedy of Irene, it is to be feared, was not +very considerable, as the profit, that stimulating motive, never invited +the author to another dramatic attempt. Some years afterwards, when the +present writer was intimate with Garrick, and knew Johnson to be in +distress, he asked the manager, why he did not produce another tragedy +for his Lichfield friend? Garrick's answer was remarkable: "When Johnson +writes tragedy, 'declamation roars, and passion sleeps:' when +Shakespeare wrote, he dipped his pen in his own heart." + +There may, perhaps, be a degree of sameness in this regular way of +tracing an author from one work to another, and the reader may feel the +effect of a tedious monotony; but, in the life of Johnson, there are no +other landmarks. He was now forty years old, and had mixed but little +with the world. He followed no profession, transacted no business, and +was a stranger to what is called a town life. We are now arrived at the +brightest period, he had hitherto known. His name broke out upon mankind +with a degree of lustre that promised a triumph over all his +difficulties. The life of Savage was admired, as a beautiful and +instructive piece of biography. The two imitations of Juvenal were +thought to rival even the excellence of Pope; and the tragedy of Irene, +though uninteresting on the stage, was universally admired in the +closet, for the propriety of the sentiments, the richness of the +language, and the general harmony of the whole composition. His fame was +widely diffused; and he had made his agreement with the booksellers for +his English dictionary at the sum of fifteen hundred guineas; a part of +which was to be, from time to time, advanced, in proportion to the +progress of the work. This was a certain fund for his support, without +being obliged to write fugitive pieces for the petty supplies of the +day. Accordingly we find that, in 1749, he established a club, +consisting of ten in number, at Horseman's, in Ivy lane, on every +Tuesday evening. This is the first scene of social life to which Johnson +can be traced, out of his own house. The members of this little society +were, Samuel Johnson; Dr. Salter, father of the late master of the +Charter house; Dr. Hawkesworth; Mr. Ryland, a merchant; Mr. Payne, a +bookseller, in Paternoster row; Mr. Samuel Dyer, a learned young man; +Dr. William M'Ghie, a Scotch physician; Dr. Edmund Barker, a young +physician; Dr. Bathurst, another young physician; and sir John Hawkins. +This list is given by sir John, as it should seem, with no other view +than to draw a spiteful and malevolent character of almost every one of +them. Mr. Dyer, whom sir John says he loved with the affection of a +brother, meets with the harshest treatment, because it was his maxim, +that "to live in peace with mankind, and in a temper to do good offices, +was the most essential part of our duty." That notion of moral goodness +gave umbrage to sir John Hawkins, and drew down upon the memory of his +friend, the bitterest imputations. Mr. Dyer, however, was admired and +loved through life. He was a man of literature. Johnson loved to enter +with him into a discussion of metaphysical, moral, and critical +subjects; in those conflicts, exercising his talents, and, according to +his custom, always contending for victory. Dr. Bathurst was the person +on whom Johnson fixed his affection. He hardly ever spoke of him without +tears in his eyes. It was from him, who was a native of Jamaica, that +Johnson received into his service Frank[n], the black servant, whom, on +account of his master, he valued to the end of his life. At the time of +instituting the club in Ivy lane, Johnson had projected the Rambler. The +title was most probably suggested by the Wanderer; a poem which he +mentions, with the warmest praise, in the life of Savage. With the same +spirit of independence with which he wished to live, it was now his +pride to write. He communicated his plan to none of his friends: he +desired no assistance, relying entirely on his own fund, and the +protection of the divine being, which he implored in a solemn form of +prayer, composed by himself for the occasion. Having formed a resolution +to undertake a work that might be of use and honour to his country, he +thought, with Milton, that this was not to be obtained "but by devout +prayer to that eternal spirit, that can enrich with all utterance and +knowledge, and send out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his +altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases." + +Having invoked the special protection of heaven, and by that act of +piety fortified his mind, he began the great work of the Rambler. The +first number was published on Tuesday, March the 20th, 1750; and from +that time was continued regularly every Tuesday and Saturday, for the +space of two years, when it finally closed on Saturday, March 14, 1752. +As it began with motives of piety, so it appears that the same religious +spirit glowed, with unabating ardour, to the last. His conclusion is: +"The essays professedly serious, if I have been able to execute my own +intentions, will be found exactly conformable to the precepts of +christianity, without any accommodation to the licentiousness and levity +of the present age. I, therefore, look back on this part of my work with +pleasure, which no man shall diminish or augment. I shall never envy the +honours which wit and learning obtain in any other cause, if I can be +numbered among the writers who have given ardour to virtue, and +confidence to truth." The whole number of essays amounted to two hundred +and eight. Addison's, in the Spectator, are more in number, but not half +in point of quantity: Addison was not bound to publish on stated days; +he could watch the ebb and flow of his genius, and send his paper to the +press, when his own taste was satisfied. Johnson's case was very +different. He wrote singly and alone. In the whole progress of the work +he did not receive more than ten essays. This was a scanty contribution. +For the rest, the author has described his situation: "He that condemns +himself to compose on a stated day, will often bring to his task an +attention dissipated, a memory embarrassed, an imagination overwhelmed, +a mind distracted with anxieties, a body languishing with disease: he +will labour on a barren topick, till it is too late to change it; or, in +the ardour of invention, diffuse his thoughts into wild exuberance, +which the pressing hour of publication cannot suffer judgment to examine +or reduce." Of this excellent production, the number sold on each day +did not amount to five hundred: of course, the bookseller, who paid the +author four guineas a week, did not carry on a successful trade. His +generosity and perseverance deserve to be commended; and happily, when +the collection appeared in volumes, were amply rewarded. Johnson lived +to see his labours nourish in a tenth edition. His posterity, as an +ingenious French writer has said, on a similar occasion, began in his +life-time. + +In the beginning of 1750, soon after the Rambler was set on foot, +Johnson was induced, by the arts of a vile impostor, to lend his +assistance, during a temporary delusion, to a fraud not to be paralleled +in the annals of literature[o]. One Lauder, a native of Scotland, who +had been a teacher in the university of Edinburgh, had conceived a +mortal antipathy to the name and character of Milton. His reason was, +because the prayer of Pamela, in sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, was, as he +supposed, maliciously inserted by the great poet in an edition of the +Eikôn Basilike, in order to fix an imputation of impiety on the +memory of the murdered king. Fired with resentment, and willing to reap +the profits of a gross imposition, this man collected, from several +Latin poets, such as Masenius the jesuit, Staphorstius, a Dutch divine, +Beza, and others, all such passages as bore any kind of resemblance to +different places in the Paradise Lost; and these he published, from time +to time, in the Gentleman's Magazine, with occasional interpolations of +lines, which he himself translated from Milton. The public credulity +swallowed all with eagerness; and Milton was supposed to be guilty of +plagiarism from inferior modern writers. The fraud succeeded so well, +that Lauder collected the whole into a volume, and advertised it under +the title of An Essay on Milton's Use and Imitation of the Moderns, in +his Paradise Lost; dedicated to the universities of Oxford and +Cambridge. While the book was in the press, the proof-sheets were shown +to Johnson, at the Ivy lane club, by Payne, the bookseller, who was one +of the members. No man in that society was in possession of the authors +from whom Lauder professed to make his extracts. The charge was +believed, and the contriver of it found his way to Johnson, who is +represented, by sir John Hawkins, not indeed as an accomplice in the +fraud, but, through motives of malignity to Milton, delighting in the +detection, and exulting that the poet's reputation would suffer by the +discovery. More malice to a deceased friend cannot well be imagined. +Hawkins adds, "that he wished well to the argument must be inferred from +the preface, which, indubitably, was written by him." The preface, it is +well known, was written by Johnson, and for that reason is inserted in +this edition. But if Johnson approved of the argument, it was no longer +than while he believed it founded in truth. Let us advert to his own +words in that very preface. "Among the inquiries to which the ardour of +criticism has naturally given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, +or more worthy of rational curiosity, than a retrospection of the +progress of this mighty genius in the construction of his work; a view +of the fabrick gradually rising, perhaps from small beginnings, till its +foundation rests in the centre, and its turrets sparkle in the skies; to +trace back the structure, through all its varieties, to the simplicity +of the first plan; to find what was projected, whence the scheme was +taken, how it was improved, by what assistance it was executed, and from +what stores the materials were collected; whether its founder dug them +from the quarries of nature, or demolished other buildings to embellish +his own." These were the motives that induced Johnson to assist Lauder +with a preface; and are not these the motives of a critic and a scholar? +What reader of taste, what man of real knowledge, would not think his +time well employed in an enquiry so curious, so interesting, and +instructive? If Lauder's facts were really true, who would not be glad, +without the smallest tincture of malevolence, to receive real +information? It is painful to be thus obliged to vindicate a man who, in +his heart, towered above the petty arts of fraud and imposition, against +an injudicious biographer, who undertook to be his editor, and the +protector of his memory. Another writer, Dr. Towers, in an Essay on the +Life and Character of Dr. Johnson, seems to countenance this calumny. He +says: "It can hardly be doubted, but that Johnson's aversion to +Milton's politics was the cause of that alacrity, with which he joined +with Lauder in his infamous attack on our great epic poet, and which +induced him to assist in that transaction." These words would seem to +describe an accomplice, were they not immediately followed by an express +declaration, that Johnson was "unacquainted with the imposture." Dr. +Towers adds, "It seems to have been, by way of making some compensation +to the memory of Milton, for the share he had in the attack of Lauder, +that Johnson wrote the prologue, spoken by Garrick, at Drury lane +theatre, 1750, on the performance of the Masque of Comus, for the +benefit of Milton's granddaughter." Dr. Towers is not free from +prejudice; but, as Shakespeare has it, "he begets a temperance, to give +it smoothness." He is, therefore, entitled to a dispassionate answer. +When Johnson wrote the prologue, it does appear that he was aware of the +malignant artifices practised by Lauder. In the postscript to Johnson's +preface, a subscription is proposed, for relieving the granddaughter of +the author of Paradise Lost. Dr. Towers will agree, that this shows +Johnson's alacrity in doing good. That alacrity showed itself again, in +the letter printed in the European Magazine, January, 1785, and there +said to have appeared originally in the General Advertiser, 4th April, +1750, by which the public were invited to embrace the opportunity of +paying a just regard to the illustrious dead, united with the pleasure +of doing good to the living. The letter adds, "To assist industrious +indigence, struggling with distress, and debilitated by age, is a +display of virtue, and an acquisition of happiness and honour. Whoever, +therefore, would be thought capable of pleasure, in reading the works of +our incomparable Milton, and not so destitute of gratitude, as to refuse +to lay out a trifle, in a rational and elegant entertainment, for the +benefit of his living remains, for the exercise of their own virtue, the +increase of their reputation, and the consciousness of doing good, +should appear at Drury lane theatre, to-morrow, April 5, when Comus will +be performed, for the benefit of Mrs. Elizabeth Foster, granddaughter to +the author, and the only surviving branch of his family. _Nota bene_, +there will be a new prologue on the occasion, written by the author of +Irene, and spoken by Mr. Garrick." The man, who had thus exerted himself +to serve the granddaughter, cannot be supposed to have entertained +personal malice to the grandfather. It is true, that the malevolence of +Lauder, as well as the impostures of Archibald Bower, were fully +detected by the labours, in the cause of truth, of the reverend Dr. +Douglas, the late lord bishop of Salisbury, + +--"Diram qui contudit Hydram + Notaque fatali portenta labore subegit." + +But the pamphlet, entitled, Milton vindicated from the Charge +of Plagiarism brought against him by Mr. Lauder, and Lauder himself +convicted of several forgeries, and gross impositions on the public, by +John Douglas, M.A. rector of Eaton Constantine, Salop, was not published +till the year 1751. In that work, p. 77, Dr. Douglas says, "It is to be +hoped, nay, it is expected, that the elegant and nervous writer, whose +judicious sentiments, and inimitable style, point out the author of +Lauder's preface and postcript, will no longer allow a man to plume +himself with his feathers, who appears so little to have deserved his +assistance; an assistance which, I am persuaded, would never have been +communicated, had there been the least suspicion of those facts, which I +have been the instrument of conveying to the world." We have here a +contemporary testimony to the integrity of Dr. Johnson, throughout the +whole of that vile transaction. What was the consequence of the +requisition made by Dr. Douglas? Johnson, whose ruling passion may be +said to be the love of truth, convinced Lauder, that it would be more +for his interest to make a full confession of his guilt, than to stand +forth the convicted champion of a lie; and, for this purpose, he drew +up, in the strongest terms, a recantation, in a letter to the reverend +Mr. Douglas, which Lauder signed, and published in the year 1751. That +piece will remain a lasting memorial of the abhorrence, with which +Johnson beheld a violation of truth. Mr. Nichols, whose attachment to +his illustrious friend was unwearied, showed him, in 1780, a book, +called Remarks on Johnson's Life of Milton; in which the affair of +Lauder was renewed with virulence; and a poetical scale in the Literary +Magazine, 1758, (when Johnson had ceased to write in that collection,) +was urged as an additional proof of deliberate malice. He read the +libellous passage with attention, and instantly wrote on the margin: "In +the business of Lauder I was deceived, partly by thinking the man too +frantick to be fraudulent. Of the poetical scale, quoted from the +magazine, I am not the author. I fancy it was put in after I had quitted +that work; for I not only did not write it, but I do not remember it." +As a critic and a scholar, Johnson was willing to receive what numbers, +at the time, believed to be true information: when he found that the +whole was a forgery, he renounced all connexion with the author. + +In March, 1752, he felt a severe stroke of affliction in the death of +his wife. The last number of the Rambler, as already mentioned, was on +the 14th of that month. The loss of Mrs. Johnson was then approaching, +and, probably, was the cause that put an end to those admirable +periodical essays. It appears that she died on the 28th of March, in a +memorandum, at the foot of the Prayers and Meditations, that is called +her Dying Day. She was buried at Bromley, under the care of Dr. +Hawkesworth. Johnson placed a Latin inscription on her tomb, in which he +celebrated her beauty. With the singularity of his prayers for his +deceased wife, from that time to the end of his days, the world is +sufficiently acquainted. On Easter day, 22nd April, 1764, his memorandum +says: "Thought on Tetty, poor dear Tetty! with my eyes full. Went to +church. After sermon I recommended Tetty in a prayer by herself; and my +father, mother, brother, and Bathurst, in another. I did it only once, +so far as it might be lawful for me." In a prayer, January 23, 1759, the +day on which his mother was buried, he commends, as far as may be +lawful, her soul to God, imploring for her whatever is most beneficial +to her in her present state. In this habit he persevered to the end of +his days. The reverend Mr. Strahan, the editor of the Prayers and +Meditations, observes, "that Johnson, on some occasions, prays that the +Almighty _may have had mercy_ on his wife and Mr. Thrale; evidently +supposing their sentence to have been already passed in the divine mind; +and, by consequence, proving, that he had no belief in a state of +purgatory, and no reason for praying for the dead that could impeach the +sincerity of his profession as a protestant." Mr. Strahan adds, "that, +in praying for the regretted tenants of the grave, Johnson conformed to +a practice which has been retained by many learned members of the +established church, though the liturgy no longer admits it, if _where +the tree, falleth, there it shall be_; if our state, at the close of +life, is to be the measure of our final sentence, then prayers for the +dead, being visibly fruitless, can be regarded only as the vain +oblations of superstition. But of all superstitions this, perhaps, is +one of the least unamiable, and most incident to a good mind. If our +sensations of kindness be intense, those, whom we have revered and +loved, death cannot wholly seclude from our concern. It is true, for the +reason just mentioned, such evidences of our surviving affection may be +thought ill judged; but surely they are generous, and some natural +tenderness is due even to a superstition, which thus originates in piety +and benevolence." These sentences, extracted from the reverend Mr. +Strahan's preface, if they are not a full justification, are, at least, +a beautiful apology. It will not be improper to add what Johnson himself +has said on the subject. Being asked by Mr. Boswell[p], what he thought +of purgatory, as believed by the Roman catholicks? his answer was, "It +is a very harmless doctrine. They are of opinion, that the generality of +mankind are neither so obstinately wicked, as to deserve everlasting +punishment; nor so good as to merit being admitted into the society of +blessed spirits; and, therefore, that God is graciously pleased to allow +a middle state, where they may be purified by certain degrees of +suffering. You see there is nothing unreasonable in this; and if it be +once established, that there are souls in purgatory, it is as proper to +pray for them, as for our brethren of mankind, who are yet in this +life." This was Dr. Johnson's guess into futurity; and to guess is the +utmost that man can do: + + "Shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it." + +Mrs. Johnson left a daughter, Lucy Porter, by her first husband. She had +contracted a friendship with Mrs. Anne Williams, the daughter of Zachary +Williams, a physician of eminence in South Wales, who had devoted more +than thirty years of a long life to the study of the longitude, and was +thought to have made great advances towards that important discovery. +His letters to lord Halifax, and the lords of the admiralty, partly +corrected and partly written by Dr. Johnson, are still extant in the +hands of Mr. Nichols[q]. We there find Dr. Williams, in the eighty-third +year of his age, stating, that he had prepared an instrument, which +might be called an epitome or miniature of the terraqueous globe, +showing, with the assistance of tables, constructed by himself, the +variations of the magnetic needle, and ascertaining the longitude, for +the safety of navigation. It appears that this scheme had been referred +to sir Isaac Newton; but that great philosopher excusing himself on +account of his advanced age, all applications were useless, till 1751, +when the subject was referred, by order of lord Anson, to Dr. Bradley, +the celebrated professor of astronomy. His report was unfavourable[r], +though it allows that a considerable progress had been made. Dr. +Williams, after all his labour and expense, died in a short time after, +a melancholy instance of unrewarded merit. His daughter possessed +uncommon talents, and, though blind, had an alacrity of mind that made +her conversation agreeable, and even desirable. To relieve and appease +melancholy reflexions, Johnson took her home to his house in Gough +square. In 1755, Garrick gave her a benefit play, which produced two +hundred pounds. In 1766, she published, by subscription, a quarto volume +of miscellanies, and increased her little stock to three hundred pounds. +That fund, with Johnson's protection, supported her, through the +remainder of her life. + +During the two years in which the Rambler was carried on, the Dictionary +proceeded by slow degrees. In May, 1752, having composed a prayer, +preparatory to his return from tears and sorrow to the duties of life, +he resumed his grand design, and went on with vigour, giving, however, +occasional assistance to his friend, Dr. Hawkesworth, in the Adventurer, +which began soon after the Rambler was laid aside. Some of the most +valuable essays in that collection were from the pen of Johnson. The +Dictionary was completed towards the end of 1754; and, Cave being then +no more, it was a mortification to the author of that noble addition to +our language, that his old friend did not live to see the triumph of his +labours. In May, 1755, that great work was published. Johnson was +desirous that it should come from one who had obtained academical +honours; and for that purpose his friend, the rev. Thos. Warton, +obtained for him, in the preceding month of February, a diploma for a +master's degree, from the university of Oxford.--Garrick, on the +publication of the Dictionary, wrote the following lines: + + "Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance, + That one English soldier can beat ten of France. + Would we alter the boast, from the sword to the pen, + Our odds are still greater, still greater our men. + In the deep mines of science, though Frenchmen may toil, + Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, or Boyle? + Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their powers, + Their versemen and prosemen, then match them with ours. + First Shakespeare and Milton, like gods in the fight, + Have put their whole drama and epic to flight. + In satires, epistles, and odes would they cope? + Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope. + And Johnson, well arm'd, like a hero of yore, + Has beat forty French, and will beat forty more." + +It is, perhaps, needless to mention, that forty was the number of the +French academy, at the time when their dictionary was published to +settle their language. + +In the course of the winter, preceding this grand publication, the late +earl of Chesterfield gave two essays in the periodical paper, called The +World, dated November 28, and December 5, 1754, to prepare the public +for so important a work. The original plan, addressed to his lordship in +the year 1747, is there mentioned, in terms of the highest praise; and +this was understood, at the time, to be a courtly way of soliciting a +dedication of the Dictionary to himself. Johnson treated this civility +with disdain. He said to Garrick and others: "I have sailed a long and +painful voyage round the world of the English language; and does he now +send out two cockboats to tow me into harbour?" He had said, in the last +number of the Rambler, "that, having laboured to maintain the dignity of +virtue, I will not now degrade it by the meanness of dedication." Such a +man, when he had finished his Dictionary, "not," as he says himself, "in +the soft obscurities of retirement, or under the shelter of academick +bowers, but amidst inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in +sorrow, and without the patronage of the great," was not likely to be +caught by the lure, thrown out by lord Chesterfield. He had, in vain, +sought the patronage of that nobleman; and his pride, exasperated by +disappointment, drew from him the following letter, dated in the month +of February, 1755. + + "TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD. + + MY LORD,--I have been lately informed, by the proprietors of The + World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the + publick, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished is an + honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, + I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. + + When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I + was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your + address, and could not forbear to wish, that I might boast myself "le + vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre;" that I might obtain that regard + for which I saw the world contending. But I found my attendance so + little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to + continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in publick, I had + exhausted all the art of pleasing, which a retired and uncourtly + scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well + pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. + + Seven years, my lord, have now passed, since I waited in your outward + room, or was repulsed from your door; during which time, I have been + pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to + complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, + without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile + of favour. Such treatment I did not expect; for I never had a patron + before. + + The shepherd in Virgil grew acquainted with love, and found him a + native of the rocks. + + Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man + struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, + encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to + take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been + delayed, till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am + solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I + hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations, where + no benefit has been received; or to be unwilling that the publick + should consider me as owing that to a patron, which providence has + enabled me to do for myself. + + Having carried on my work, thus far, with so little obligation to any + favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed, though I should + conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long + wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself, with + so much exultation, + + My lord, + your lordship's most humble + and most obedient servant, + SAMUEL JOHNSON." + +It is said, upon good authority, that Johnson once received from lord +Chesterfield the sum of ten pounds. It were to be wished that the secret +had never transpired. It was mean to receive it, and meaner to give it. +It may be imagined, that for Johnson's ferocity, as it has been called, +there was some foundation in his finances; and, as his Dictionary was +brought to a conclusion, that money was now to flow in upon him. The +reverse was the case. For his subsistence, during the progress of the +work, he had received, at different times, the amount of his contract; +and, when his receipts were produced to him at a tavern dinner, given by +the booksellers, it appeared, that he had been paid a hundred pounds and +upwards more than his due. The author of a book, called Lexiphanes[s], +written by a Mr. Campbell, a Scotchman, and purser of a man of war, +endeavoured to blast his laurels, but in vain. The world applauded, and +Johnson never replied. "Abuse," he said, "is often of service: there is +nothing so dangerous to an author as silence; his name, like a +shittlecock [Transcriber's note: sic], must be beat backward and forward, +or it falls to the ground." Lexiphanes professed to be an imitation of the +pleasant manner of Lucian; but humour was not the talent of the writer of +Lexiphanes. As Dryden says, "he had too much horse-play in his raillery." + +It was in the summer, 1754, that the present writer became acquainted +with Dr. Johnson. The cause of his first visit is related by Mrs. +Piozzi, nearly in the following manner:--Mr. Murphy being engaged in a +periodical paper, the Gray's inn Journal, was at a friend's house in the +country, and, not being disposed to lose pleasure for business, wished +to content his bookseller by some unstudied essay. He, therefore, took +up a French Journal Littéraire, and, translating something he liked, +sent it away to town. Time, however, discovered that he translated from +the French, a Rambler, which had been taken from the English, without +acknowledgment. Upon this discovery, Mr. Murphy thought it right to make +his excuses to Dr. Johnson. He went next day, and found him covered with +soot, like a chimney-sweeper, in a little room, as if he had been acting +Lungs, in the Alchemist, "making ether." This being told by Mr. Murphy, +in company, "Come, come," said Dr. Johnson, "the story is black enough; +but it was a happy day that brought you first to my house." After this +first visit, the author of this narrative, by degrees, grew intimate +with Dr. Johnson. The first striking sentence, that he heard from him, +was in a few days after the publication of lord Bolingbroke's posthumous +works. Mr. Garrick asked him, "If he had seen them." "Yes, I have seen +them." "What do you think of them?" "Think of them!" He made a long +pause, and then replied: "Think of them! A scoundrel, and a coward! A +scoundrel, who spent his life in charging a gun against christianity; +and a coward, who was afraid of hearing the report of his own gun; but +left half a crown to a hungry Scotchman to draw the trigger, after his +death." His mind, at this time strained, and over-laboured by constant +exertion, called for an interval of repose and indolence. But indolence +was the time of danger: it was then that his spirits, not employed +abroad, turned with inward hostility against himself. His reflections on +his own life and conduct were always severe; and, wishing to be +immaculate, he destroyed his own peace by unnecessary scruples. He tells +us, that when he surveyed his past life, he discovered nothing but a +barren waste of time, with some disorders of body, and disturbances of +mind, very near to madness. His life, he says, from his earliest years, +was wasted in a morning bed; and his reigning sin was a general +sluggishness, to which he was always inclined, and, in part of his life, +almost compelled, by morbid melancholy, and weariness of mind. This was +his constitutional malady, derived, perhaps, from his father, who was, +at times, overcast with a gloom that bordered on insanity. When to this +it is added, that Johnson, about the age of twenty, drew up a +description of his infirmities, for Dr. Swinfen, at that time an eminent +physician, in Staffordshire; and received an answer to his letter, +importing, that the symptoms indicated a future privation of reason; who +can wonder, that he was troubled with melancholy, and dejection of +spirit? An apprehension of the worst calamity that can befall human +nature hung over him all the rest of his life, like the sword of the +tyrant suspended over his guest. In his sixtieth year he had a mind to +write the history of his melancholy; but he desisted, not knowing +whether it would not too much disturb him. In a Latin poem, however, to +which he has prefixed, as a title, [Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON], he has left +a picture of himself, drawn with as much truth, and as firm a hand, as +can be seen in the portraits of Hogarth, or sir Joshua Reynolds. The +learned reader will find the original poem in this volume; and it is +hoped, that a translation, or rather imitation, of so curious a piece, +will not be improper in this place. + + KNOW YOURSELF. + (AFTER REVISING AND ENLARGING THE ENGLISH LEXICON, OR DICTIONARY.) + + When Scaliger, whole years of labour past, + Beheld his lexicon complete at last, + And weary of his task, with wond'ring eyes, + Saw, from words pil'd on words, a fabric rise, + He curs'd the industry, inertly strong, + In creeping toil that could persist so long; + And if, enrag'd he cried, heav'n meant to shed + Its keenest vengeance on the guilty head, + The drudgery of words the damn'd would know, + Doom'd to write lexicons in endless woe[t]. + + Yes, you had cause, great genius, to repent; + "You lost good days, that might be better spent;" + You well might grudge the hours of ling'ring pain, + And view your learned labours with disdain. + To you were given the large expanded mind, + The flame of genius, and the taste refin'd. + 'Twas yours, on eagle wings, aloft to soar, + And, amidst rolling worlds, the great first cause explore, + To fix the aeras of recorded time, + And live in ev'ry age and ev'ry clime; + Record the chiefs, who propt their country's cause; + Who founded empires, and establish'd laws; + To learn whate'er the sage, with virtue fraught, + Whate'er the muse of moral wisdom taught. + These were your quarry; these to you were known, + And the world's ample volume was your own. + + Yet, warn'd by me, ye pigmy wits, beware, + Nor with immortal Scaliger compare. + For me, though his example strike my view, + Oh! not for me his footsteps to pursue. + Whether first nature, unpropitious, cold, + This clay compounded in a ruder mould; + Or the slow current, loit'ring at my heart, + No gleam of wit or fancy can impart; + Whate'er the cause, from me no numbers flow, + No visions warm me, and no raptures glow. + A mind like Scaliger's, superior still, + No grief could conquer, no misfortune chill. + Though, for the maze of words, his native skies + He seem'd to quit, 'twas but again to rise; + To mount, once more, to the bright source of day, + And view the wonders of th' ethereal way. + The love of fame his gen'rous bosom fir'd; + Each science hail'd him, and each muse inspir'd. + For him the sons of learning trimm'd the bays, + And nations grew harmonious in his praise. + + My task perform'd, and all my labours o'er, + For me what lot has fortune now in store? + The listless will succeeds, that worst disease, + The rack of indolence, the sluggish ease. + Care grows on care, and o'er my aching brain + Black melancholy pours her morbid train. + No kind relief, no lenitive at hand, + I seek, at midnight clubs, the social band; + But midnight clubs, where wit with noise conspires, + Where Comus revels, and where wine inspires, + Delight no more: I seek my lonely bed, + And call on sleep to sooth my languid head. + But sleep from these sad lids flies far away; + I mourn all night, and dread the coming day. + Exhausted, tir'd, I throw my eyes around, + To find some vacant spot on classic ground; + And soon, vain hope! I form a grand design; + Languor succeeds, and all my pow'rs decline. + If science open not her richest vein, + Without materials all our toil is vain. + A form to rugged stone when Phidias gives-- + Beneath his touch a new creation lives. + Remove his marble, and his genius dies: + With nature then no breathing statue vies. + Whate'er I plan, I feel my pow'rs confin'd + By fortune's frown, and penury of mind. + I boast no knowledge, glean'd with toil and strife, + That bright reward of a well acted life. + I view myself, while reason's feeble light + Shoots a pale glimmer through the gloom of night; + While passions, error, phantoms of the brain, + And vain opinions, fill the dark domain; + A dreary void, where fears, with grief combin'd, + Waste all within, and desolate the mind. + + What then remains? Must I, in slow decline, + To mute inglorious ease old age resign? + Or, bold ambition kindling in my breast, + Attempt some arduous task? Or, were it best, + Brooding o'er lexicons to pass the day, + And in that labour drudge my life away? + +Such is the picture for which Dr. Johnson sat to himself. He gives the +prominent features of his character; his lassitude, his morbid +melancholy, his love of fame, his dejection, his tavern-parties, and his +wandering reveries, "Vacuae mala somnia mentis," about which so much has +been written; all are painted in miniature, but in vivid colours, by his +own hand. His idea of writing more dictionaries was not merely said in +verse. Mr. Hamilton, who was at that time an eminent printer, and well +acquainted with Dr. Johnson, remembers that he engaged in a Commercial +Dictionary, and, as appears by the receipts in his possession, was paid +his price for several sheets; but he soon relinquished the undertaking. +It is probable, that he found himself not sufficiently versed in that +branch of knowledge. + +He was again reduced to the expedient of short compositions, for the +supply of the day. The writer of this narrative has now before him a +letter, in Dr. Johnson's handwriting, which shows the distress and +melancholy situation of the man, who had written the Rambler, and +finished the great work of his Dictionary. The letter is directed to Mr. +Richardson, the author of Clarissa, and is as follows: + + "SIR,--I am obliged to entreat your assistance. I am now under an + arrest for five pounds eighteen shillings. Mr. Strahan, from whom I + should have received the necessary help in this case, is not at home; + and I am afraid of not finding Mr. Millar. If you will be so good as + to send me this sum, I will very gratefully repay you, and add it to + all former obligations. I am, sir, + + Your most obedient, + + and most humble servant, + + SAMUEL JOHNSON. + + Gough square, 16 March." + +In the margin of this letter, there is a memorandum in these words: +"March 16, 1756, sent six guineas. Witness, Wm. Richardson." For the +honour of an admired writer it is to be regretted, that we do not find a +more liberal entry. To his friend, in distress, he sent eight shillings +more than was wanted. Had an incident of this kind occurred in one of +his romances, Richardson would have known how to grace his hero; but in +fictitious scenes, generosity costs the writer nothing. + +About this time Johnson contributed several papers to a periodical +miscellany, called The Visiter, from motives which are highly honourable +to him, a compassionate regard for the late Mr. Christopher Smart. The +criticism on Pope's epitaphs appeared in that work. In a short time +after, he became a reviewer in the Literary magazine, under the auspices +of the late Mr. Newbery, a man of a projecting head, good taste, and +great industry. This employment engrossed but little of Johnson's time. +He resigned himself to indolence, took no exercise, rose about two, and +then received the visits of his friends. Authors, long since forgotten, +waited on him, as their oracle, and he gave responses in the chair of +criticism. He listened to the complaints, the schemes, and the hopes and +fears of a crowd of inferior writers, "who," he said, in the words of +Roger Ascham, "lived _men knew not how, and died obscure, men marked not +when_." He believed, that he could give a better history of Grub street +than any man living. His house was filled with a succession of visitors +till four or five in the evening. During the whole time he presided at +his tea-table. Tea was his favourite beverage; and, when the late Jonas +Hanway pronounced his anathema against the use of tea, Johnson rose in +defence of his habitual practice, declaring himself "in that article, a +hardened sinner, who had for years diluted his meals with the infusion +of that fascinating plant; whose tea-kettle had no time to cool; who, +with tea, solaced the midnight hour, and with tea welcomed the morning." + +The proposal for a new edition of Shakespeare, which had formerly +miscarried, was resumed in the year 1756. The booksellers readily agreed +to his terms: and subscription-tickets were issued out. For undertaking +this work, money, he confessed, was the inciting motive. His friends +exerted themselves to promote his interest; and, in the mean time, he +engaged in a new periodical production, called The Idler. The first +number appeared on Saturday, April 15, 1758 and the last, April 5, 1760. +The profits of this work, and the subscriptions for the new edition of +Shakespeare, were the means by which he supported himself for four or +five years. In 1759, was published Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia. His +translation of Lobo's Voyage to Abissinia, seems to have pointed out +that country for the scene of action; and Rassela Christos, the general +of sultan Sequed, mentioned in that work, most probably suggested the +name of the prince. The author wanted to set out on a journey to +Lichfield, in order to pay the last offices of filial piety to his +mother, who, at the age of ninety, was then near her dissolution; but +money was necessary. Mr. Johnston, a bookseller, who has, long since, +left off business, gave one hundred pounds for the copy. With this +supply Johnson set out for Lichfield; but did not arrive in time to +close the eyes of a parent whom he loved. He attended the funeral, +which, as appears among his memorandums, was on the 23rd of January, +1759. + +Johnson now found it necessary to retrench his expenses. He gave up his +house in Gough square. Mrs. Williams went into lodgings. He retired to +Gray's inn, and soon removed to chambers in the Inner Temple lane, where +he lived in poverty, total idleness, and the pride of literature: "Magni +stat nominis umbra." Mr. Fitzherbert, the father of lord St. Helens, the +present minister at Madrid, a man distinguished, through life, for his +benevolence and other amiable qualities, used to say, that he paid a +morning visit to Johnson, intending, from his chambers, to send a letter +into the city; but, to his great surprise, he found an author by +profession, without pen, ink, or paper. The present bishop of Salisbury +was also among those who endeavoured, by constant attention, to sooth +the cares of a mind, which he knew to be afflicted with gloomy +apprehensions. At one of the parties made at his house, Boscovich, the +jesuit, who had then lately introduced the Newtonian philosophy at Rome, +and, after publishing an elegant Latin poem on the subject, was made a +fellow of the Royal Society, was one of the company invited to meet Dr. +Johnson. The conversation, at first, was mostly in French. Johnson, +though thoroughly versed in that language, and a professed admirer of +Boileau and La Bruyère, did not understand its pronunciation, nor +could he speak it himself with propriety. For the rest of the evening +the talk was in Latin. Boscovich had a ready current flow of that flimsy +phraseology, with which a priest may travel through Italy, Spain, and +Germany. Johnson scorned what he called colloquial barbarisms. It was +his pride to speak his best. He went on, after a little practice, with +as much facility as if it was his native tongue. One sentence this +writer well remembers. Observing that Fontenelle, at first, opposed the +Newtonian philosophy, and embraced it afterwards, his words were: +"Fontinellus, ni fallor, in extrema senectute, fuit transfuga ad castra +Newtoniana." + +We have now travelled through that part of Dr. Johnson's life, which was +a perpetual struggle with difficulties. Halcyon days are now to open +upon him. In the month of May, 1762, his majesty, to reward literary +merit, signified his pleasure to grant to Johnson a pension of three +hundred pounds a year. The earl of Bute was minister. Lord Loughborough, +who, perhaps, was originally a mover in the business, had authority to +mention it. He was well acquainted with Johnson; but, having heard much +of his independent spirit, and of the downfal of Osborne, the +bookseller, he did not know but his benevolence might be rewarded with a +folio on his head. He desired the author of these memoirs to undertake +the task. This writer thought the opportunity of doing so much good the +most happy incident in his life. He went, without delay, to the +chambers, in the Inner Temple lane, which, in fact, were the abode of +wretchedness. By slow and studied approaches the message was disclosed. +Johnson made a long pause: he asked if it was seriously intended: he +fell into a profound meditation, and his own definition of a pensioner +occurred to him. He was told, "that he, at least, did not come within +the definition." He desired to meet next day, and dine at the Mitre +tavern. At that meeting he gave up all his scruples. On the following +day, lord Loughborough conducted him to the earl of Bute. The +conversation that passed, was, in the evening, related to this writer, +by Dr. Johnson. He expressed his sense of his majesty's bounty, and +thought himself the more highly honoured, as the favour was not bestowed +on him for having dipped his pen in faction. "No, sir," said lord Bute, +"it is not offered to you for having dipped your pen in faction, nor +with a design that you ever should." Sir John Hawkins will have it, +that, after this interview, Johnson was often pressed to wait on lord +Bute, but with a sullen spirit refused to comply. However that be, +Johnson was never heard to utter a disrespectful word of that nobleman. +The writer of this essay remembers a circumstance, which may throw some +light on this subject. The late Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, whom Johnson +loved and respected, contended for the pre-eminence of the Scotch +writers; and Ferguson's book on Civil Society, then on the eve of +publication, he said, would give the laurel to North Britain. "Alas! +what can he do upon that subject?" said Johnson: "Aristotle, Polybius, +Grotius, Puffendorf, and Burlemaqui, have reaped in that field before +him." "He will treat it," said Dr. Rose, "in a new manner." "A new +manner! Buckinger had no hands, and he wrote his name with his toes, at +Charing Cross, for half a crown a piece; that was a new manner of +writing!" Dr. Rose replied: "If that will not satisfy you, I will name a +writer, whom you must allow to be the best in the kingdom." "Who is +that?" "The earl of Bute, when he wrote an order for your pension." +"There, sir," said Johnson, "you have me in the toil: to lord Bute I +must allow whatever praise you claim for him." Ingratitude was no part +of Johnson's character. + +Being now in the possession of a regular income, Johnson left his +chambers in the temple, and, once more, became master of a house in +Johnson's court, Fleet street. Dr. Levet, his friend and physician in +ordinary[u], paid his daily visits, with assiduity; made tea all the +morning, talked what he had to say, and did not expect an answer. Mrs. +Williams had her apartment in the house, and entertained her benefactor +with more enlarged conversation. Chymistry was a part of Johnson's +amusement. For this love of experimental philosophy, sir John Hawkins +thinks an apology necessary. He tells us, with great gravity, that +curiosity was the only object in view; not an intention to grow suddenly +rich by the philosopher's stone, or the transmutation of metals. To +enlarge this circle, Johnson, once more, had recourse to a literary +club. This was at the Turk's head, in Gerard street, Soho, on every +Tuesday evening through the year. The members were, besides himself, the +right honourable Edmund Burke, sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Nugent, Dr. +Goldsmith, the late Mr. Topham Beauclerc, Mr. Langton, Mr. Chamier, sir +J. Hawkins, and some others. Johnson's affection for sir Joshua was +founded on a long acquaintance, and a thorough knowledge of the virtuous +and amiable qualities of that excellent artist. He delighted in the +conversation of Mr. Burke. He met him, for the first time, at Mr. +Garrick's, several years ago. On the next day he said: "I suppose, +Murphy, you are proud of your countryman: 'Cum talis sit, utinam noster +esset!'" From that time, his constant observation was, "that a man of +sense could not meet Mr. Burke, by accident, under a gateway, to avoid a +shower, without being convinced, that he was the first man in England." +Johnson felt not only kindness, but zeal and ardour for his friends. He +did every thing in his power to advance the reputation of Dr. Goldsmith. +He loved him, though he knew his failings, and particularly the leaven +of envy, which corroded the mind of that elegant writer, and made him +impatient, without disguise, of the praises bestowed on any person +whatever. Of this infirmity, which marked Goldsmith's character, Johnson +gave a remarkable instance. It happened that he went with sir Joshua +Reynolds and Goldsmith, to see the fantoccini, which were exhibited, +some years ago, in or near the Haymarket. They admired the curious +mechanism by which the puppets were made to walk the stage, draw a chair +to the table, sit down, write a letter, and perform a variety of other +actions, with such dexterity, that "though nature's journeymen made the +men, they imitated humanity," to the astonishment of the spectator. The +entertainment being over, the three friends retired to a tavern. Johnson +and sir Joshua talked with pleasure of what they had seen; and, says +Johnson, in a tone of admiration: "How the little fellow brandished his +spontoon!" "There is nothing in it," replied Goldsmith, starting up with +impatience, "give me a spontoon; I can do it as well myself." + +Enjoying his amusements at his weekly club, and happy in a state of +independence, Johnson gained, in the year 1765, another resource, which +contributed, more than any thing else, to exempt him from the +solicitudes of life. He was introduced to the late Mr. Thrale and his +family. Mrs. Piozzi has related the fact, and it is, therefore, needless +to repeat it in this place. The author of this narrative looks back to +the share he had in that business, with self-congratulation, since he +knows the tenderness which, from that time, soothed Johnson's cares at +Streatham, and prolonged a valuable life. The subscribers to Shakespeare +began to despair of ever seeing the promised edition. To acquit himself +of this obligation, he went to work unwillingly, but proceeded with +vigour. In the month of October, 1765, Shakespeare was published; and, +in a short time after, the university of Dublin sent over a diploma, in +honourable terms, creating him a doctor of laws. Oxford, in eight or ten +years afterwards, followed the example; and, till then, Johnson never +assumed the title of doctor. In 1766, his constitution seemed to be in a +rapid decline; and that morbid melancholy, which often clouded his +understanding, came upon him with a deeper gloom than ever. Mr. and Mrs. +Thrale paid him a visit in this situation, and found him on his knees, +with Dr. Delap, the rector of Lewes, in Sussex, beseeching God to +continue to him the use of his understanding. Mr. Thrale took him to his +house at Streatham, and Johnson, from that time, became a constant +resident in the family. He went, occasionally, to the club in Gerard +street, but his headquarters were fixed at Streatham. An apartment was +fitted up for him, and the library was greatly enlarged. Parties were +constantly invited from town; and Johnson was every day at an elegant +table, with select and polished company. Whatever could be devised by +Mr. and Mrs. Thrale to promote the happiness, and establish the health +of their guest, was studiously performed from that time to the end of +Mr. Thrale's life. Johnson accompanied the family, in all their summer +excursions, to Brighthelmstone, to Wales, and to Paris. It is but +justice to Mr. Thrale to say, that a more ingenuous frame of mind no man +possessed. His education at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman; +his amiable temper recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his +heart made him a sincere friend. That he was the patron of Johnson, is +an honour to his memory. + +In petty disputes with contemporary writers, or the wits of the age, +Johnson was seldom entangled. A single incident of that kind may not be +unworthy of notice, since it happened with a man of great celebrity in +his time. A number of friends dined with Garrick on a Christmas day. +Foote was then in Ireland. It was said, at table, that the modern +Aristophanes (so Foote was called) had been horsewhipped by a Dublin +apothecary, for mimicking him on the stage. "I wonder," said Garrick, +"that any man should show so much resentment to Foote; he has a patent +for such liberties; nobody ever thought it worth his while to quarrel +with him in London." "I am glad," said Johnson, "to find that the man is +rising in the world." The expression was afterwards repeated to Foote, +who, in return, gave out, that he would produce the Caliban of +literature on the stage. Being informed of this design, Johnson sent +word to Foote: "that the theatre being intended for the reformation of +vice, he would step from the boxes on the stage, and correct him before +the audience." Foote knew the intrepidity of his antagonist, and +abandoned the design. No ill will ensued. Johnson used to say: "that for +broad-faced mirth, Foote had not his equal." + +Dr. Johnson's fame excited the curiosity of the king. His majesty +expressed a desire to see a man of whom extraordinary things were said. +Accordingly, the librarian at Buckingham house invited Johnson to see +that elegant collection of books, at the same time giving a hint of what +was intended. His majesty entered the room, and, among other things, +asked the author, "if he meant to give the world any more of his +compositions." Johnson answered: "that he thought he had written +enough." "And I should think so too," replied his majesty, "if you had +not written so well." + +Though Johnson thought he had written enough, his genius, even in spite +of bodily sluggishness, could not lie still. In 1770 we find him +entering the lists, as a political writer. The flame of discord that +blazed throughout the nation, on the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the +final determination of the house of commons, that Mr. Luttrell was duly +elected by two hundred and six votes, against eleven hundred and +forty-three, spread a general spirit of discontent. To allay the tumult, +Dr. Johnson published the False Alarm. Mrs. Piozzi informs us, "that this +pamphlet was written at her house, between eight o'clock on Wednesday +night and twelve on Thursday night." This celerity has appeared +wonderful to many, and some have doubted the truth. It may, however, be +placed within the bounds of probability. Johnson has observed, that +there are different methods of composition. Virgil was used to pour out +a great number of verses in the morning, and pass the day in retrenching +the exuberances, and correcting inaccuracies; and it was Pope's custom +to write his first thoughts in his first words, and gradually to +amplify, decorate, rectify, and refine them. Others employ, at once, +memory and invention, and, with little intermediate use of the pen, form +and polish large masses by continued meditation, and write their +productions only, when, in their opinion, they have completed them. This +last was Johnson's method. He never took his pen in hand till he had +well weighed his subject, and grasped, in his mind, the sentiments, the +train of argument, and the arrangement of the whole. As he often thought +aloud, he had, perhaps, talked it over to himself. This may account for +that rapidity with which, in general, he despatched his sheets to the +press, without being at the trouble of a fair copy. Whatever may be the +logic or eloquence of the False Alarm, the house of commons have since +erased the resolution from the journals. But whether they have not left +materials for a future controversy may be made a question. + +In 1771, he published another tract, on the subject of Falkland islands. +The design was to show the impropriety of going to war with Spain for an +island, thrown aside from human use, stormy in winter, and barren in +summer. For this work it is apparent, that materials were furnished by +direction of the minister. + +At the approach of the general election in 1774, he wrote a short +discourse, called The Patriot, not with any visible application to Mr. +Wilkes; but to teach the people to reject the leaders of opposition, who +called themselves patriots. In 1775, he undertook a pamphlet of more +importance, namely, Taxation no Tyranny, in answer to the Resolutions +and Address of the American congress. The scope of the argument was, +that distant colonies, which had, in their assemblies, a legislature of +their own, were, notwithstanding, liable to be taxed in a British +parliament, where they had neither peers in one house, nor +representatives in the other. He was of opinion, that this country was +strong enough to enforce obedience. "When an Englishman," he says, "is +told that the Americans shoot up like the hydra, he naturally considers +how the hydra was destroyed." The event has shown how much he and the +minister of that day were mistaken. + +The account of the Tour to the Western Islands of Scotland, which was +undertaken in the autumn of 1773, in company with Mr. Boswell, was not +published till some time in the year 1775. This book has been variously +received; by some extolled for the elegance of the narrative, and the +depth of observation on life and manners; by others, as much condemned, +as a work of avowed hostility to the Scotch nation. The praise was, +beyond all question, fairly deserved; and the censure, on due +examination, will appear hasty and ill founded. That Johnson entertained +some prejudices against the Scotch must not be dissembled. It is true, +as Mr. Boswell says, "that he thought their success in England exceeded +their proportion of real merit, and he could not but see in them that +nationality which no liberal-minded Scotsman will deny." The author of +these memoirs well remembers, that Johnson one day asked him, "have you +observed the difference between your own country impudence and Scotch +impudence?" The answer being in the negative: "then I will tell you," +said Johnson. "The impudence of an Irishman is the impudence of a fly, +that buzzes about you, and you put it away, but it returns again, and +flutters and teases you. The impudence of a Scotsman is the impudence of +a leech, that fixes and sucks your blood." Upon another occasion, this +writer went with him into the shop of Davies, the bookseller, in Russell +street, Covent garden. Davies came running to him, almost out of breath +with joy: "The Scots gentleman is come, sir; his principal wish is to +see you; he is now in the back parlour." "Well, well, I'll see the +gentleman," said Johnson. He walked towards the room. Mr. Boswell was +the person. This writer followed, with no small curiosity. "I find," +said Mr. Boswell, "that I am come to London, at a bad time, when great +popular prejudice has gone forth against us North Britons; but, when I +am talking to you, I am talking to a large and liberal mind, and you +know that I cannot help coming from Scotland." "Sir," said Johnson, "no +more can the rest of your countrymen[x]." + +He had other reasons that helped to alienate him from the natives of +Scotland. Being a cordial well-wisher to the constitution in church and +state, he did not think that Calvin and John Knox were proper founders +of a national religion. He made, however, a wide distinction between the +dissenters of Scotland and the separatists of England. To the former he +imputed no disaffection, no want of loyalty. Their soldiers and their +officers had shed their blood with zeal and courage in the service of +great Britain; and the people, he used to say, were content with their +own established modes of worship, without wishing, in the present age, +to give any disturbance to the church of England. + +This he was, at all times, ready to admit; and, therefore, declared, +that, whenever he found a Scotchman, to whom an Englishman was as a +Scotchman, that Scotchman should be as an Englishman to him. In this, +surely, there was no rancour, no malevolence. The dissenters, on this +side the Tweed, appeared to him in a different light. Their religion, he +frequently said, was too worldly, too political, too restless and +ambitious. The doctrine of cashiering kings, and erecting, on the ruins +of the constitution, a new form of government, which lately issued from +their pulpits, he always thought was, under a calm disguise, the +principle that lay lurking in their hearts. He knew, that a wild +democracy had overturned kings, lords, and commons; and that a set of +republican fanatics, who would not bow at the name of Jesus, had taken +possession of all the livings, and all the parishes in the kingdom. That +those scenes of horror might never be renewed, was the ardent wish of +Dr. Johnson; and, though he apprehended no danger from Scotland, it is +probable, that his dislike of calvinism mingled, sometimes, with his +reflections on the natives of that country. The association of ideas +could not be easily broken; but it is well known, that he loved and +respected many gentlemen from that part of the island. Dr. Robertson's +History of Scotland, and Dr. Beattie's Essays, were subjects of his +constant praise. Mr. Boswell, Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, Andrew Millar, Mr. +Hamilton, the printer, and the late Mr. Strahan, were among his most +intimate friends. Many others might be added to the list. He scorned to +enter Scotland as a spy; though Hawkins, his biographer, and the +professing defender of his fame, allowed himself leave to represent him +in that ignoble character. He went into Scotland to survey men and +manners. Antiquities, fossils, and minerals, were not within his +province. He did not visit that country to settle the station of Roman +camps, or the spot, where Galgacus fought the last battle for public +liberty. The people, their customs, and the progress of literature, were +his objects. The civilities which he received in the course of his tour, +have been repaid with grateful acknowledgment, and, generally, with +great elegance of expression. His crime is, that he found the country +bare of trees, and he has stated the fact. This, Mr. Boswell, in his +tour to the Hebrides, has told us, was resented, by his countrymen, with +anger inflamed to rancour; but he admits that there are few trees on the +east side of Scotland. Mr. Pennant, in his tour, says, that, in some +parts of the eastern side of the country, he saw several large +plantations of pine, planted by gentlemen near their seats; and, in this +respect, such a laudable spirit prevails, that, in another half-century, +it never shall be said, "To spy the nakedness of the land are you come." +Johnson could not wait for that half-century, and, therefore, mentioned +things as he found them. If, in any thing, he has been mistaken, he has +made a fair apology, in the last paragraph of his book, avowing with +candour: "That he may have been surprised by modes of life, and +appearances of nature, that are familiar to men of wider survey, and +more varied conversation. Novelty and ignorance must always be +reciprocal: and he is conscious that his thoughts on national manners, +are the thoughts of one who has seen but little." + +The poems of Ossian made a part of Johnson's inquiry, during his +residence in Scotland and the Hebrides. On his return to England, +November, 1773, a storm seemed to be gathering over his head; but the +cloud never burst, and the thunder never fell.--Ossian, it is well +known, was presented to the public, as a translation from the Erse; but +that this was a fraud, Johnson declared, without hesitation. "The Erse," +he says, "was always oral only, and never a written language. The Welsh +and the Irish were more cultivated. In Erse, there was not in the world +a single manuscript a hundred years old. Martin, who, in the last +century, published an account of the Western Islands, mentions Irish, +but never Erse manuscripts, to be found in the islands in his time. The +bards could not read; if they could, they might, probably, have written. +But the bard was a barbarian among barbarians, and, knowing nothing +himself, lived with others that knew no more. If there is a manuscript +from which the translation was made, in what age was it written, and +where is it? If it was collected from oral recitation, it could only be +in detached parts, and scattered fragments: the whole is too long to be +remembered. Who put it together in its present form?" For these, and +such like reasons, Johnson calls the whole an imposture. He adds, "The +editor, or author, never could show the original, nor can it be shown by +any other. To revenge reasonable incredulity, by refusing evidence, is a +degree of insolence with which the world is not yet acquainted; and +stubborn audacity is the last refuge of guilt." This reasoning carries +with it great weight. It roused the resentment of Mr. Macpherson. He +sent a threatening letter to the author; and Johnson answered him in the +rough phrase of stern defiance. The two heroes frowned at a distance, +but never came to action. + +In the year 1777, the misfortunes of Dr. Dodd excited his compassion. He +wrote a speech for that unhappy man, when called up to receive judgment +of death; besides two petitions, one to the king, and another to the +queen; and a sermon to be preached by Dodd to the convicts in Newgate. +It may appear trifling to add, that, about the same time, he wrote a +prologue to the comedy of a Word to the Wise, written by Hugh Kelly. The +play, some years before, had been damned by a party on the first night. +It was revived for the benefit of the author's widow. Mrs. Piozzi +relates, that when Johnson was rallied for these exertions, so close to +one another, his answer was, "When they come to me with a dying parson, +and a dead stay-maker, what can a man do?" + +We come now to the last of his literary labours. At the request of the +booksellers, he undertook the Lives of the Poets. The first publication +was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of +that year, he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the +Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily, +unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place, +he hopes they are written in such a manner, as may tend to the promotion +of piety. That the history of so many men, who, in their different +degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written +recently after their deaths, seems to be an omission that does no honour +to the republic of letters. Their contemporaries, in general, looked on +with calm indifference, and suffered wit and genius to vanish out of the +world in total silence, unregarded and unlamented. Was there no friend +to pay the tribute of a tear? No just observer of life to record the +virtues of the deceased? Was even envy silent? It seemed to have been +agreed, that if an author's works survived, the history of the man was +to give no moral lesson to after-ages. If tradition told us that Ben +Jonson went to the Devil tavern; that Shakespeare stole deer, and held +the stirrup at play-house doors; that Dryden frequented Button's +coffee-house; curiosity was lulled asleep, and biography forgot the best +part of her function, which is, to instruct mankind by examples taken from +the school of life. This task remained for Dr. Johnson, when years had +rolled away; when the channels of information were, for the most part, +choked up, and little remained besides doubtful anecdote, uncertain +tradition, and vague report. + + "Nunc situs informis premit et deserta vetustas." + +The value of biography has been better understood in other ages, and in +other countries. Tacitus informs us, that to record the lives and +characters of illustrious men, was the practice of the Roman authors, in +the early periods of the republic. In France, the example has been +followed. Fontenelle, D'Alembert, and monsieur Thomas, have left models +in this kind of composition. They have embalmed the dead. But it is +true, that they had incitements and advantages, even at a distant day, +which could not, by any diligence, be obtained by Dr. Johnson. The wits +of France had ample materials. They lived in a nation of critics, who +had, at heart, the honour done to their country by their poets, their +heroes, and their philosophers. They had, besides, an academy of +belles-lettres, where genius was cultivated, refined, and encouraged. +They had the tracts, the essays, and dissertations, which remain in the +memoirs of the academy, and they had the speeches of the several members, +delivered at their first admission to a seat in that learned assembly. +In those speeches the new academician did ample justice to the memory of +his predecessor; and though his harangue was decorated with the colours +of eloquence, and was, for that reason, called panegyric, yet, being +pronounced before qualified judges, who knew the talents, the conduct, +and morals of the deceased, the speaker could not, with propriety, +wander into the regions of fiction. The truth was known, before it was +adorned. The academy saw the marble before the artist polished it. But +this country has had no academy of literature. The public mind, for +centuries, has been engrossed by party and faction; "by the madness of +many for the gain of a few;" by civil wars, religious dissensions, trade +and commerce, and the arts of accumulating wealth. Amidst such +attentions, who can wonder that cold praise has been often the only +reward of merit? In this country, Dr. Nathaniel Hodges, who, like the +good bishop of Marseilles, drew purer breath amidst the contagion of the +plague in London, and, during the whole time, continued in the city, +administering medical assistance, was suffered, as Johnson used to +relate, with tears in his eyes, to die for debt, in a gaol. In this +country, the man who brought the New river to London, was ruined by that +noble project; and, in this country, Otway died for want, on Tower hill; +Butler, the great author of Hudibras, whose name can only die with the +English language, was left to languish in poverty; the particulars of +his life almost unknown, and scarce a vestige of him left, except his +immortal poem. Had there been an academy of literature, the lives, at +least, of those celebrated persons, would have been written for the +benefit of posterity. Swift, it seems, had the idea of such an +institution, and proposed it to lord Oxford; but whig and tory were more +important objects. It is needless to dissemble, that Dr. Johnson, in the +life of Roscommon, talks of the inutility of such a project. "In this +country," he says, "an academy could be expected to do but little. If an +academician's place were profitable, it would be given by interest; if +attendance were gratuitous, it would be rarely paid, and no man would +endure the least disgust. Unanimity is impossible, and debate would +separate the assembly." To this it may be sufficient to answer, that the +Royal society has not been dissolved by sullen disgust; and the modern +academy, at Somerset house, has already performed much, and promises +more. Unanimity is not necessary to such an assembly. On the contrary, +by difference of opinion, and collision of sentiment, the cause of +literature would thrive and flourish. The true principles of criticism, +the secret of fine writing, the investigation of antiquities, and other +interesting subjects, might occasion a clash of opinions; but, in that +contention, truth would receive illustration, and the essays of the +several members would supply the memoirs of the academy. "But," says Dr. +Johnson, "suppose the philological decree made and promulgated, what +would be its authority? In absolute government there is, sometimes, a +general reverence paid to all that has the sanction of power the +countenance of greatness.--How little this is the state of our country, +needs not to be told. The edicts of an English academy would, probably, +be read by many, only that they may be sure to disobey them. The present +manners of the nation would deride authority, and, therefore, nothing is +left, but that every writer should criticise himself." This, surely, is +not conclusive. It is by the standard of the best writers, that every +man settles, for himself, his plan of legitimate composition; and since +the authority of superior genius is acknowledged, that authority, which +the individual obtains, would not be lessened by an association with +others of distinguished ability. It may, therefore, be inferred, that an +academy of literature would be an establishment highly useful, and an +honour to literature. In such an institution, profitable places would +not be wanted. "Vatis avarus haud facile est animus;" and the minister, +who shall find leisure, from party and faction, to carry such a scheme +into execution, will, in all probability, be respected by posterity, as +the Maecenas of letters. + +We now take leave of Dr. Johnson, as an author. Four volumes of his +Lives of the Poets were published in 1778, and the work was completed in +1781. Should biography fall again into disuse, there will not always be +a Johnson to look back through a century, and give a body of critical +and moral instruction. In April, 1781, he lost his friend Mr. Thrale. +His own words, in his diary, will best tell that melancholy event. "On +Wednesday, the 11th of April, was buried my dear friend Mr. Thrale, who +died on Wednesday, the 4th, and with him were buried many of my hopes +and pleasures. About five, I think, on Wednesday morning, he expired. I +felt almost the last flutter of his pulse, and looked, for the last +time, upon the face, that, for fifteen years before, had never been +turned upon me but with respect and benignity. Farewell: may God, that +delighteth in mercy, have had mercy on thee! I had constantly prayed for +him before his death. The decease of him, from whose friendship I had +obtained many opportunities of amusement, and to whom I turned my +thoughts, as to a refuge from misfortunes, has left me heavy. But my +business is with myself."--From the close of his last work, the malady +that persecuted him through life came upon him with alarming severity, +and his constitution declined apace. In 1782, his old friend, Levet, +expired, without warning and without a groan. Events like these reminded +Johnson of his own mortality. He continued his visits to Mrs. Thrale, at +Streatham, to the 7th day of October, 1782, when, having first composed +a prayer for the happiness of a family, with whom he had, for many +years, enjoyed the pleasures and comforts of life, he removed to his own +house in town. He says he was up early in the morning, and read +fortuitously in the Gospel, "which was his parting use of the library." +The merit of the family is manifested by the sense he had of it, and we +see his heart overflowing with gratitude. He leaves the place with +regret, and "casts a lingering look behind." + +The few remaining occurrences may be soon despatched. In the month of +June, 1783, Johnson had a paralytic stroke, which affected his speech +only. He wrote to Dr. Taylor, of Westminster; and to his friend Mr. +Allen, the printer, who lived at the next door. Dr. Brocklesby arrived +in a short time, and by his care, and that of Dr. Heberden, Johnson soon +recovered. During his illness, the writer of this narrative visited him, +and found him reading Dr. Watson's Chymistry. Articulating with +difficulty, he said, "From this book, he who knows nothing may learn a +great deal; and he who knows, will be pleased to find his knowledge +recalled to his mind in a manner highly pleasing." In the month of +August he set out for Lichfield, on a visit to Mrs. Lucy Porter, the +daughter of his wife by her first husband; and, in his way back, paid +his respects to Dr. Adams, at Oxford. Mrs. Williams died, at his house +in Bolt court, in the month of September, during his absence. This was +another shock to a mind like his, ever agitated by the thoughts of +futurity. The contemplation of his own approaching end was constantly +before his eyes; and the prospect of death, he declared, was terrible. +For many years, when he was not disposed to enter into the conversation +going forward, whoever sat near his chair, might hear him repeating, +from Shakespeare, + + "Aye, but to die, and go we know not where; + To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; + This sensible warm motion to become + A kneaded clod, and the delighted spirit + To bathe in fiery floods"-- + +And from Milton, + +--"Who would lose, + For fear of pain, this intellectual being?" + +By the death of Mrs. Williams he was left in a state of destitution, +with nobody but Frank, his black servant, to sooth his anxious moments. +In November, 1783, he was swelled from head to foot with a dropsy. Dr. +Brocklesby, with that benevolence with which he always assists his +friends, paid his visits with assiduity. The medicines prescribed were +so efficacious, that, in a few days, Johnson, while he was offering up +his prayers, was suddenly obliged to rise, and, in the course of the +day, discharged twenty pints of water. + +Johnson, being eased of his dropsy, began to entertain hopes that the +vigour of his constitution was not entirely broken. For the sake of +conversing with his friends, he established a conversation club, to meet +on every Wednesday evening; and, to serve a man whom he had known in Mr. +Thrale's household for many years, the place was fixed at his house, in +Essex street, near the Temple. To answer the malignant remarks of sir +John Hawkins, on this subject, were a wretched waste of time. Professing +to be Johnson's friend, that biographer has raised more objections to +his character, than all the enemies to that excellent man. Sir John had +a root of bitterness that "put rancours in the vessel of his peace." +Fielding, he says, was the inventor of a cant phrase, "Goodness of +heart, which means little more than the virtue of a horse or a dog." He +should have known, that kind affections are the essence of virtue: they +are the will of God implanted in our nature, to aid and strengthen moral +obligation; they incite to action: a sense of benevolence is no less +necessary than a sense of duty. Good affections are an ornament, not +only to an author, but to his writings. He who shows himself upon a cold +scent for opportunities to bark and snarl throughout a volume of six +hundred pages, may, if he will, pretend to moralise; but goodness of +heart, or, to use that politer phrase, "the virtue of a horse or a dog," +would redound more to his honour. But sir John is no more: our business +is with Johnson. The members of his club were respectable for their +rank, their talents, and their literature. They attended with +punctuality, till about Midsummer, 1784, when, with some appearance of +health, Johnson went into Derbyshire, and thence to Lichfield. While he +was in that part of the world, his friends, in town, were labouring for +his benefit. The air of a more southern climate, they thought, might +prolong a valuable life. But a pension of three hundred pounds a year +was a slender fund for a travelling valetudinarian, and it was not then +known that he had saved a moderate sum of money. Mr. Boswell and sir +Joshua Reynolds undertook to solicit the patronage of the chancellor. +With lord Thurlow, while he was at the bar, Johnson was well acquainted. +He was often heard to say, "Thurlow is a man of such vigour of mind, +that I never knew I was to meet him, but--I was going to say, I was +afraid, but that would not be true, for I never was afraid of any man; +but I never knew that I was to meet Thurlow, but I knew I had something +to encounter." The chancellor undertook to recommend Johnson's case; but +without success. To protract, if possible, the days of a man, whom he +respected, he offered to advance the sum of five hundred pounds. Being +informed of this at Lichfield, Johnson wrote the following letter: + + "MY LORD,--After a long, and not inattentive observation of mankind, + the generosity of your lordship's offer raises in me not less wonder + than gratitude. Bounty, so liberally bestowed, I should gladly + receive, if my condition made it necessary; for to such a mind who + would not be proud to own his obligations? But it has pleased God to + restore me to so great a measure of health, that, if I should now + appropriate so much of a fortune destined to do good, I could not + escape from myself the charge of advancing a false claim. My journey + to the continent, though I once thought it necessary, was never much + encouraged by my physicians; and I was very desirous that your + lordship should be told it, by sir Joshua Reynolds, as an event very + uncertain; for, if I grew much better, I should not be willing; if + much worse, I should not be able to migrate. Your lordship was first + solicited without my knowledge; but when I was told that you were + pleased to honour me with your patronage, I did not expect to hear of + a refusal; yet, as I have had no long time to brood hopes, and have + not rioted in imaginary opulence, this cold reception has been scarce + a disappointment; and from your lordship's kindness I have received a + benefit which only men, like you, are able to bestow. I shall now live + _mihi carior_, with a higher opinion of my own merit. + + I am, my lord, + + Your lordship's most obliged, + + Most grateful, and most humble servant, + + SAMUEL JOHNSON. + + September, 1784." + +We have, in this instance, the exertion of two congenial minds; one, +with a generous impulse, relieving merit in distress; and the other, by +gratitude and dignity of sentiment, rising to an equal elevation. + +It seems, however, that greatness of mind is not confined to greatness +of rank. Dr. Brocklesby was not content to assist with his medical art; +he resolved to minister to his patient's mind, and pluck from his memory +the sorrow which the late refusal from a high quarter might occasion. To +enable him to visit the south of France, in pursuit of health, he +offered, from his own funds, an annuity of one hundred pounds, payable +quarterly. This was a sweet oblivious antidote, but it was not accepted, +for the reasons assigned to the chancellor. The proposal, however, will +do honour to Dr. Brocklesby, as long as liberal sentiment shall be +ranked among the social virtues. + +In the month of October, 1784, we find Dr. Johnson corresponding with +Mr. Nichols, the intelligent compiler of the Gentleman's Magazine, and, +in the languor of sickness, still desirous to contribute all in his +power to the advancement of science and useful knowledge. He says, in a +letter to that gentleman, dated Lichfield, October 20, that "he should +be glad to give so skilful a lover of antiquities any information." He +adds, "At Ashbourne, where I had very little company, I had the luck to +borrow Mr. Bowyer's Life, a book, so full of contemporary history, that +a literary man must find some of his old friends. I thought that I +could, now and then, have told you some hints worth your notice: we, +perhaps, may talk a life over. I hope we shall be much together. You +must now be to me what you were before, and what dear Mr. Allen was +besides. He was taken unexpectedly away, but, I think, he was a very +good man. I have made very little progress in recovery. I am very weak, +and very sleepless; but I live on and hope." + +In that languid condition he arrived, on the 16th of November, at his +house in Bolt court, there to end his days. He laboured with the dropsy +and an asthma. He was attended by Dr. Heberden, Dr. Warren, Dr. +Brocklesby, Dr. Butter, and Mr. Cruikshank, the eminent surgeon. +Eternity presented to his mind an awful prospect, and, with as much +virtue as, perhaps, ever is the lot of man, he shuddered at the thought +of his dissolution. His friends awakened the comfortable reflection of a +well-spent life; and, as his end drew near, they had the satisfaction of +seeing him composed, and even cheerful, insomuch that he was able, in +the course of his restless nights, to make translations of Greek +epigrams from the Anthologia; and to compose a Latin epitaph for his +father, his mother, and his brother Nathaniel. He meditated, at the same +time, a Latin inscription to the memory of Garrick; but his vigour was +exhausted. + +His love of literature was a passion that stuck to his last sand. Seven +days before his death he wrote the following letter to his friend Mr. +Nichols: + + + + "SIR,--The late learned Mr. Swinton, of Oxford, having one day + remarked, that one man, meaning, I suppose, no man but himself, could + assign all the parts of the Ancient Universal History to their proper + authors, at the request of sir Robert Chambers, or myself, gave the + account which I now transmit to you, in his own hand, being willing + that of so great a work the history should be known, and that each + writer should receive his due proportion of praise from posterity. + + I recommend to you to preserve this scrap of literary intelligence, in + Mr. Swinton's own hand, or to deposit it in the Museum[y], that the + veracity of this account may never be doubted. + + I am, sir, + + Your most humble servant, + + SAM. JOHNSON. + + Dec. 6, 1784." + + Mr. Swinton. + + The History of the Carthaginians. + --Numidians. + --Mauritanians. + --Gaetulians. + --Garamantes. + --Melano-Gaetulians. + --Nigritae. + --Cyrenaica. + --Marmarica. + --Regio Syrtica. + --Turks, Tartars, and Moguls. + --Indians. + --Chinese. + The Dissertation on the peopling of America. + The Dissertation on the Independency of the Arabs. + The Cosmogony, and a small part of the History immediately following. + By Mr. Sale. + To the Birth of Abraham. Chiefly by Mr. Shelvock. + History of the Jews, Gauls, and Spaniards. By Mr. Psalmanazai. + Xenophon's Retreat. By the same. + History of the Persians, and the Constantinopolitan Empire. By Dr. + Campbell. + History of the Romans. By Mr. Bower[z]. + +On the morning of December 7, Dr. Johnson requested to see Mr. Nichols. +A few days before, he had borrowed some of the early volumes of the +magazine, with a professed intention to point out the pieces which he +had written in that collection. The books lay on the table, with many +leaves doubled down, and, in particular, those which contained his share +in the parliamentary debates. Such was the goodness of Johnson's heart, +that he then declared, that "those debates were the only parts of his +writings which gave him any compunction: but that, at the time he wrote +them, he had no conception that he was imposing upon the world, though +they were, frequently, written from very slender materials, and often +from none at all, the mere coinage of his own imagination." He added, +"that he never wrote any part of his work with equal velocity." "Three +columns of the magazine in an hour," he said, "was no uncommon effort; +which was faster than most persons could have transcribed that quantity. +In one day, in particular, and that not a very long one, he wrote twelve +pages, more in quantity than ever he wrote at any other time, except in +the Life of Savage, of which forty-eight pages, in octavo, were the +production of one long day, including a part of the night." + +In the course of the conversation, he asked whether any of the family of +Faden, the printer, were living. Being told that the geographer, near +Charing Cross, was Faden's son, he said, after a short pause, "I +borrowed a guinea of his father near thirty years ago; be so good as to +take this, and pay it for me." + +Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnson +recollected another debt of ten pounds, which he had borrowed from his +friend, Mr. Hamilton, the printer, about twenty years before. He sent +the money to Mr. Hamilton, at his house in Bedford row, with an apology +for the length of time. The reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the +message, about four or five days before Johnson breathed his last. + +Mr. Sastres, whom Dr. Johnson esteemed and mentioned in his will, +entered the room, during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he saw +him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a tone of lamentation, called +out, "Jam moriturus!" But the love of life was still an active +principle. Feeling himself swelled with the dropsy, he conceived that, +by incisions in his legs, the water might be discharged. Mr. Cruikshank +apprehended that a mortification might be the consequence; but, to +appease a distempered fancy, he gently lanced the surface. Johnson cried +out, "Deeper, deeper! I want length of life, and you are afraid of +giving me pain, which I do not value." + +On the 8th of December, the reverend Mr. Strahan drew his will, by +which, after a few legacies, the residue, amounting to about fifteen +hundred pounds, was bequeathed to Frank, the black servant, formerly +consigned to the testator by his friend Dr. Bathurst. + +The history of a death-bed is painful. Mr. Strahan informs us, that the +strength of religion prevailed against the infirmity of nature; and his +foreboding dread of the divine justice subsided into a pious trust, and +humble hope of mercy, at the throne of grace. On Monday, the 13th day of +December, the last of his existence on this side the grave, the desire +of life returned with all its former vehemence. He still imagined, that, +by puncturing his legs, relief might be obtained. At eight in the +morning he tried the experiment, but no water followed. In an hour or +two after, he fell into a doze, and about seven in the evening expired +without a groan. + +On the 20th of the month his remains, with due solemnities, and a +numerous attendance of his friends, were buried in Westminster abbey, +near the foot of Shakespeare's monument, and close to the grave of the +late Mr. Garrick. The funeral service was read by his friend, Dr. +Taylor. + +A black marble over his grave has the following inscription: + + SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + obiit XIII die Decembris, + Anno Domini + MDCCLXXXIV. + Aetatis suae LXXV. + +If we now look back, as from an eminence, to view the scenes of life, +and the literary labours in which Dr. Johnson was engaged, we may be +able to delineate the features of the man, and to form an estimate of +his genius. + +As a man, Dr. Johnson stands displayed in open daylight. Nothing remains +undiscovered. Whatever he said is known; and without allowing him the +usual privilege of hazarding sentiments, and advancing positions for +mere amusement, or the pleasure of discussion, criticism has endeavoured +to make him answerable for what, perhaps, he never seriously thought. +His diary, which has been printed, discovers still more. We have before +us the very heart of the man, with all his inward consciousness; and yet +neither in the open paths of life, nor in his secret recesses, has any +one vice been discovered. We see him reviewing every year of his life, +and severely censuring himself, for not keeping resolutions, which +morbid melancholy, and other bodily infirmities, rendered impracticable. +We see him, for every little defect, imposing on himself voluntary +penance, going through the day with only one cup of tea without milk, +and to the last, amidst paroxysms and remissions of illness, forming +plans of study and resolutions to amend his life[aa]. Many of his +scruples may be called weaknesses; but they are the weaknesses of a +good, a pious, and most excellent man. + +His person, it is well known, was large and unwieldy. His nerves were +affected by that disorder, for which, at two years of age, he was +presented to the royal touch. His head shook, and involuntary motions +made it uncertain that his legs and arms would, even at a tea-table, +remain in their proper place. A person of lord Chesterfield's delicacy +might, in his company, be in a fever. He would, sometimes, of his own +accord, do things inconsistent with the established modes of behaviour. +Sitting at table with the celebrated Mrs. Cholmondeley, who exerted +herself to circulate the subscription for Shakespeare, he took hold of +her hand, in the middle of dinner, and held it close to his eye, +wondering at the delicacy and whiteness, till, with a smile, she asked, +"Will he give it to me again, when he has done with it?" The exteriors +of politeness did not belong to Johnson. Even that civility, which +proceeds, or ought to proceed, from the mind, was sometimes violated. +His morbid melancholy had an effect on his temper; his passions were +irritable; and the pride of science, as well as of a fierce independent +spirit, inflamed him, on some occasions, above all bounds of moderation. +Though not in the shade of academic bowers, he led a scholastic life; +and the habit of pronouncing decisions to his friends and visitors, gave +him a dictatorial manner, which was much enforced by a voice naturally +loud, and often overstretched. Metaphysical discussion, moral theory, +systems of religion, and anecdotes of literature, were his favourite +topics. General history had little of his regard. Biography was his +delight. The proper study of mankind is man. Sooner than hear of the +Punic war, he would be rude to the person that introduced the subject. + +Johnson was born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logic +are said to be of use. In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved +argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute +discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be +refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision, both in idea and +expression, almost unequalled. When he chose, by apt illustration, to +place the argument of his adversary in a ludicrous light, one was almost +inclined to think ridicule the test of truth. He was surprised to be +told, but it is certainly true, that, with great powers of mind, wit and +humour were his shining talents. That he often argued for the sake of +triumph over his adversary, cannot be dissembled. Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, +has been heard to tell of a friend of his, who thanked him for +introducing him to Dr. Johnson, as he had been convinced, in the course +of a long dispute, that an opinion, which he had embraced as a settled +truth, was no better than a vulgar error. This being reported to +Johnson, "Nay," said he, "do not let him be thankful, for he was right, +and I was wrong." Like his uncle Andrew, in the ring at Smithfield, +Johnson, in a circle of disputants, was determined neither to be thrown +nor conquered. Notwithstanding all his piety, self-government or the +command of his passions in conversation, does not seem to have been +among his attainments. Whenever he thought the contention was for +superiority, he has been known to break out with violence, and even +ferocity. When the fray was over, he generally softened into repentance, +and, by conciliating measures, took care that no animosity should be +left rankling in the breast of his antagonist. Of this defect he seems +to have been conscious. In a letter to Mrs. Thrale, he says, "Poor +Baretti! do not quarrel with him; to neglect him a little will be +sufficient. He means only to be frank and manly and independent, and, +perhaps, as you say, a little wise. To be frank, he thinks, is to be +cynical; and to be independent, is to be rude. Forgive him, dearest +lady, the rather, because of his misbehaviour, I am afraid, he learned +part of me. I hope to set him, hereafter, a better example." For his own +intolerant and over-bearing spirit he apologized, by observing, that it +had done some good; obscenity and impiety were repressed in his company. + +It was late in life, before he had the habit of mixing, otherwise than +occasionally, with polite company. At Mr. Thrale's he saw a constant +succession of well-accomplished visiters. In that society he began to +wear off the rugged points of his own character. He saw the advantages +of mutual civility, and endeavoured to profit by the models before him. +He aimed at what has been called, by Swift, the "lesser morals," and by +Cicero, "minores virtutes." His endeavour, though new and late, gave +pleasure to all his acquaintance. Men were glad to see that he was +willing to be communicative on equal terms and reciprocal complacence. +The time was then expected, when he was to cease being what George +Garrick, brother to the celebrated actor, called him, the first time he +heard him converse, "a tremendous companion." He certainly wished to be +polite, and even thought himself so; but his civility still retained +something uncouth and harsh. His manners took a milder tone, but the +endeavour was too palpably seen. He laboured even in trifles. He was a +giant gaining a purchase to lift a feather. + +It is observed, by the younger Pliny, that "in the confines of virtue +and great qualities, there are, generally, vices of an opposite nature." +In Dr. Johnson not one ingredient can take the name of vice. From his +attainments in literature, grew the pride of knowledge; and from his +powers of reasoning, the love of disputation and the vain glory of +superior vigour.--His piety, in some instances, bordered on +superstition. He was willing to believe in preternatural agency, and +thought it not more strange, that there should be evil spirits than evil +men. Even the question about second sight held him in suspense. "Second +sight," Mr. Pennant tells us, "is a power of seeing images impressed on +the organs of sight, by the power of fancy; or on the fancy, by the +disordered spirits operating on the mind. It is the faculty of seeing +spectres or visions, which represent an event actually passing at a +distance, or likely to happen at a future day. In 1771, a gentleman, the +last who was supposed to be possessed of this faculty, had a boat at +sea, in a tempestuous night, and, being anxious for his freight, +suddenly started up, and said his men would be drowned, for he had seen +them pass before him with wet garments and dropping locks. The event +corresponded with his disordered fancy. And thus," continues Mr. +Pennant, "a distempered imagination, clouded with anxiety, may make an +impression on the spirits; as persons, restless, and troubled with +indignation, see various forms and figures, while they lie awake in +bed." This is what Dr. Johnson was not willing to reject. He wished for +some positive proof of communications with another world. His +benevolence embraced the whole race of man, and yet was tinctured with +particular prejudices. He was pleased with the minister in the isle of +Skie, and loved him so much, that he began to wish him not a +presbyterian. To that body of dissenters his zeal for the established +church, made him, in some degree, an adversary; and his attachment to a +mixed and limited monarchy, led him to declare open war against what he +called a sullen republican. He would rather praise a man of Oxford than +of Cambridge. He disliked a whig, and loved a tory. These were the +shades of his character, which it has been the business of certain +party-writers to represent in the darkest colours. + +Since virtue, or moral goodness, consists in a just conformity of our +actions to the relations, in which we stand to the supreme being and to +our fellow-creatures, where shall we find a man who has been, or +endeavoured to be, more diligent in the discharge of those essential +duties? His first prayer was composed in 1738; he continued those +fervent ejaculations of piety to the end of his life. In his Meditations +we see him scrutinizing himself with severity, and aiming at perfection +unattainable by man. His duty to his neighbour consisted in universal +benevolence, and a constant aim at the production of happiness. Who was +more sincere and steady in his friendships? It has been said, that there +was no real affection between him and Garrick. On the part of the +latter, there might be some corrosions of jealousy. The character of +Prospero, in the Rambler, No. 200, was, beyond all question, occasioned +by Garrick's ostentatious display of furniture and Dresden china. It was +surely fair to take, from this incident, a hint for a moral essay; and, +though no more was intended, Garrick, we are told, remembered it with +uneasiness. He was also hurt, that his Lichfield friend did not think so +highly of his dramatic art, as the rest of the world. The fact was, +Johnson could not see the passions, as they rose, and chased one +another, in the varied features of that expressive face; and, by his own +manner of reciting verses, which was wonderfully impressive, he plainly +showed, that he thought, there was too much of artificial tone and +measured cadence, in the declamation of the theatre. The present writer +well remembers being in conversation with Dr. Johnson, near the side of +the scenes, during the tragedy of King Lear: when Garrick came off the +stage, he said, "You two talk so loud, you destroy all my feelings." +"Prithee," replied Johnson, "do not talk of feelings, Punch has no +feelings." This seems to have been his settled opinion; admirable as +Garrick's imitation of nature always was, Johnson thought it no better +than mere mimickry. Yet, it is certain, that he esteemed and loved +Garrick; that he dwelt with pleasure on his praise; and used to declare, +that he deserved his great success, because, on all applications for +charity, he gave more than was asked. After Garrick's death, he never +talked of him, without a tear in his eye. He offered, if Mrs. Garrick +would desire it of him, to be the editor of his works, and the historian +of his life[bb]. It has been mentioned, that, on his death-bed, he +thought of writing a Latin inscription to the memory of his friend. +Numbers are still living who know these facts, and still remember, with +gratitude, the friendship which he showed to them, with unaltered +affection, for a number of years. His humanity and generosity, in +proportion to his slender income, were unbounded. It has been truly +said, that the lame, the blind, and the sorrowful, found, in his house, +a sure retreat. A strict adherence to truth he considered as a sacred +obligation, insomuch that, in relating the most minute anecdote, he +would not allow himself the smallest addition to embellish his story. +The late Mr. Tyers, who knew Dr. Johnson intimately, observed, "that he +always talked, as if he was talking upon oath." + +After a long acquaintance with this excellent man, and an attentive +retrospect to his whole conduct, such is the light in which he appears +to the writer of this essay. The following lines of Horace, may be +deemed his picture in miniature: + + "Iracundior est paulo? minus aptus acutis + Naribus horum hominum? rideri possit, eo quod + Rusticius tonso toga defluit, et male laxus + In pede calceus haeret? At est bonus, ut melior vir + Non alius quisquam: at tibi amicus: at ingenium ingens + Inculto latet hoc sub corpore." + + "Your friend is passionate, perhaps unfit + For the brisk petulance of modern wit. + His hair ill-cut, his robe, that awkward flows, + Or his large shoes, to raillery expose + The man you love; yet is he not possess'd + Of virtues, with which very few are blest? + While underneath this rude, uncouth disguise, + A genius of extensive knowledge lies." + +Francis's Hor. book i. sat. 3. + +It remains to give a review of Johnson's works; and this, it is +imagined, will not be unwelcome to the reader. + +Like Milton and Addison, he seems to have been fond of his Latin poetry. +Those compositions show, that he was an early scholar; but his verses +have not the graceful ease, that gave so much suavity to the poems of +Addison. The translation of the Messiah labours under two disadvantages: +it is first to be compared with Pope's inimitable performance, and +afterwards with the Pollio of Virgil. It may appear trifling to remark, +that he has made the letter _o_, in the word _virgo_, long and short in +the same line: "Virgo, virgo parit." But the translation has great +merit, and some admirable lines. In the odes there is a sweet +flexibility, particularly--to his worthy friend Dr. Lawrence; on himself +at the theatre, March 8, 1771; the ode in the isle of Skie; and that to +Mrs. Thrale, from the same place. + +His English poetry is such as leaves room to think, if he had devoted +himself to the muses, that he would have been the rival of Pope. His +first production, in this kind, was London, a poem in imitation of the +third satire of Juvenal. The vices of the metropolis are placed in the +room of ancient manners. The author had heated his mind with the ardour +of Juvenal, and, having the skill to polish his numbers, he became a +sharp accuser of the times. The Vanity of Human Wishes, is an imitation +of the tenth satire of the same author. Though it is translated by +Dryden, Johnson's imitation approaches nearest to the spirit of the +original. The subject is taken from the Alcibiades of Plato, and has an +intermixture of the sentiments of Socrates, concerning the object of +prayers offered up to the deity. The general proposition is, that good +and evil are so little understood by mankind, that their wishes, when +granted, are always destructive. This is exemplified in a variety of +instances, such as riches, state-preferment, eloquence, military glory, +long life, and the advantages of form and beauty. Juvenal's conclusion +is worthy of a christian poet, and such a pen as Johnson's. "Let us," he +says, "leave it to the gods to judge what is fittest for us. Man is +dearer to his creator than to himself. If we must pray for special +favour, let it be for a sound mind in a sound body. Let us pray for +fortitude, that we may think the labours of Hercules, and all his +sufferings, preferable to a life of luxury, and the soft repose of +Sardanapalus. This is a blessing within the reach of every man; this we +can give ourselves. It is virtue, and virtue only, that can make us +happy." In the translation, the zeal of the christian conspired with the +warmth and energy of the poet; but Juvenal is not eclipsed. For the +various characters in the original, the reader is pleased, in the +English poem, to meet with cardinal Wolsey, Buckingham stabbed by +Felton, lord Strafford, Clarendon, Charles the twelfth of Sweden; and +for Tully and Demosthenes, Lydiat, Galileo, and archbishop Laud. It is +owing to Johnson's delight in biography, that the name of Lydiat is +called forth from obscurity. It may, therefore, not be useless to tell, +that Lydiat was a learned divine and mathematician in the beginning of +the last century. He attacked the doctrine of Aristotle and Scaliger, +and wrote a number of sermons on the harmony of the evangelists. With +all his merit, he lay in the prison of Bocardo, at Oxford, till bishop +Usher, Laud, and others, paid his debts. He petitioned Charles the first +to be sent to Ethiopia, to procure manuscripts. Having spoken in favour +of monarchy and bishops, he was plundered by the puritans, and twice +carried away, a prisoner, from his rectory. He died, very poor, in 1646. + +The tragedy of Irene is founded on a passage in Knolles's History of the +Turks; an author highly commended in the Rambler, No. 122. An incident +in the life of Mahomet the great, first emperor of the Turks, is the +hinge on which the fable is made to move. The substance of the story is +shortly this: In 1453, Mahomet laid siege to Constantinople, and having +reduced the place, became enamoured of a fair Greek, whose name was +Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the law of the prophet, and to +grace his throne. Enraged at this intended marriage, the janizaries +formed a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor. To avert the impending +danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, "catching with one +hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the hair of her head, +and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one blow, struck off her +head, to the great terror of them all; and, having so done, said unto +them: 'Now by this, judge whether your emperor is able to bridle his +affections or not.'" The story is simple, and it remained for the author +to amplify it, with proper episodes, and give it complication and +variety. The catastrophe is changed, and horror gives place to terror +and pity. But, after all, the fable is cold and languid. There is not, +throughout the piece, a single situation to excite curiosity, and raise +a conflict of passions. The diction is nervous, rich, and elegant; but +splendid language, and melodious numbers, will make a fine poem--not a +tragedy. The sentiments are beautiful, always happily expressed, but +seldom appropriated to the character, and generally too philosophic. +What Johnson has said of the tragedy of Cato, may be applied to Irene: +"It is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama; rather a succession of +just sentiments, in elegant language, than a representation of natural +affections. Nothing excites or assuages emotion. The events are expected +without solicitude, and are remembered without joy or sorrow. Of the +agents we have no care; we consider not what they are doing, nor what +they are suffering; we wish only to know, what they have to say. It is +unaffecting elegance, and chill philosophy." The following speech, in +the mouth of a Turk, who is supposed to have heard of the British +constitution, has been often selected from the numberless beauties with +which Irene abounds: + + "If there be any land, as fame reports, + Where common laws restrain the prince and subject; + A happy land, where circulating power + Flows through each member of th' embodied state, + Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, + Her grateful sons shine bright with ev'ry virtue; + Untainted with the LUST OF INNOVATION; + Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule, + Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature, + That links the jarring elements in peace." + +These are British sentiments. Above forty years ago, they found an echo +in the breast of applauding audiences; and to this hour they are the +voice of the people, in defiance of the metaphysics, and the new lights +of certain politicians, who would gladly find their private advantage in +the disasters of their country; a race of men, "quibus nulla ex honesto +spes." + +The prologue to Irene is written with elegance, and, in a peculiar +style, shows the literary pride and lofty spirit of the author. The +epilogue, we are told, in a late publication, was written by sir William +Yonge. This is a new discovery, but by no means probable. When the +appendages to a dramatic performance are not assigned to a friend, or an +unknown hand, or a person of fashion, they are always supposed to be +written by the author of the play. It is to be wished, however, that the +epilogue, in question, could be transferred to any other writer. It is +the worst jeu d'esprit that ever fell from Johnson's pen[cc]. + +An account of the various pieces contained in this edition, such as +miscellaneous tracts, and philological dissertations, would lead beyond +the intended limits of this essay. It will suffice to say, that they are +the productions of a man, who never wanted decorations of language, and +always taught his reader to think. The life of the late king of Prussia, +as far as it extends, is a model of the biographical style. The review +of the Origin of Evil was, perhaps, written with asperity; but the angry +epitaph which it provoked from Soame Jenyns, was an ill-timed +resentment, unworthy of the genius of that amiable author. + +The Rambler may be considered, as Johnson's great work. It was the basis +of that high reputation, which went on increasing to the end of his +days. The circulation of those periodical essays was not, at first, +equal to their merit. They had not, like the Spectators, the art of +charming by variety; and, indeed, how could it be expected? The wits of +queen Anne's reign sent their contributions to the Spectator; and +Johnson stood alone. A stagecoach, says sir Richard Steele, must go +forward on stated days, whether there are passengers or not. So it was +with the Rambler, every Tuesday and Saturday, for two years. In this +collection Johnson is the great moral teacher of his countrymen; his +essays form a body of ethics; the observations on life and manners, are +acute and instructive; and the papers, professedly critical, serve to +promote the cause of literature. It must, however, be acknowledged, that +a settled gloom hangs over the author's mind; and all the essays, except +eight or ten, coming from the same fountain-head, no wonder that they +have the raciness of the soil from which they sprang. Of this uniformity +Johnson was sensible. He used to say, that if he had joined a friend or +two, who would have been able to intermix papers of a sprightly turn, +the collection would have been more miscellaneous, and, by consequence, +more agreeable to the generality of readers. This he used to illustrate +by repeating two beautiful stanzas from his own ode to Cave, or Sylvanus +Urban: + + "Non ulla musis pagina gratior, + Quam quae severis ludicra jungere + Novit, fatigatamque nugis + Utilibus recreare mentem. + + Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, + Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat + Iramista, sic Iris refulget + Aethereis variata fucis." + +It is remarkable, that the pomp of diction, which has been objected to +Johnson, was first assumed in the Rambler. His Dictionary was going on +at the same time, and, in the course of that work, as he grew familiar +with technical and scholastic words, he thought that the bulk of his +readers were equally learned; or, at least, would admire the splendour +and dignity of the style. And yet it is well known, that he praised, in +Cowley, the ease and unaffected structure of the sentences. Cowley may +be placed at the head of those who cultivated a clear and natural style. +Dryden, Tillotson, and sir William Temple followed. Addison, Swift, and +Pope, with more correctness, carried our language well nigh to +perfection. Of Addison, Johnson was used to say, "he is the Raphael of +essay writers." How he differed so widely from such elegant models, is a +problem not to be solved, unless it be true, that he took an early +tincture from the writers of the last century, particularly sir Thomas +Browne. Hence the peculiarities of his style, new combinations, +sentences of an unusual structure, and words derived from the learned +languages. His own account of the matter is: "When common words were +less pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in their signification, I +familiarized the terms of philosophy, by applying them to popular +ideas." But he forgot the observation of Dryden: "If too many foreign +words are poured in upon us, it looks, as if they were designed, not to +assist the natives, but to conquer them." There is, it must be admitted, +a swell of language, often out of all proportion to the sentiment; but +there is, in general, a fulness of mind, and the thought seems to expand +with the sound of the words. Determined to discard colloquial barbarisms +and licentious idioms, he forgot the elegant simplicity that +distinguishes the writings of Addison. He had, what Locke calls, a +round-about view of his subject; and, though he never was tainted, like +many modern wits, with the ambition of shining in paradox, he may be +fairly called an original thinker. His reading was extensive. He +treasured in his mind whatever was worthy of notice, but he added to it +from his own meditation. He collected, "quae reconderet, auetaque +promeret." Addison was not so profound a thinker. He was "born to write, +converse, and live with ease;" and he found an early patron in lord +Somers. He depended, however, more upon a fine taste than the vigour of +his mind. His Latin poetry shows, that he relished, with a just +selection, all the refined and delicate beauties of the Roman classics; +and, when he cultivated his native language, no wonder that he formed +that graceful style, which has been so justly admired; simple, yet +elegant; adorned, yet never over-wrought; rich in allusion, yet pure and +perspicuous; correct, without labour; and though, sometimes, deficient +in strength, yet always musical. His essays, in general, are on the +surface of life; if ever original, it was in pieces of humour. Sir Roger +de Coverly, and the tory fox-hunter, need not to be mentioned. Johnson +had a fund of humour, but he did not know it; nor was he willing to +descend to the familiar idiom, and the variety of diction, which that +mode of composition required. The letter, in the Rambler, No. 12, from a +young girl that wants a place, will illustrate this observation. Addison +possessed an unclouded imagination, alive to the first objects of nature +and of art. He reaches the sublime without any apparent effort. When he +tells us, "If we consider the fixed stars as so many oceans of flame, +that are each of them attended with a different set of planets; if we +still discover new firmaments, and new lights, that are sunk further in +those unfathomable depths of ether; we are lost in a labyrinth of suns +and worlds, and confounded with the magnificence and immensity of +nature;" the ease, with which this passage rises to unaffected grandeur, +is the secret charm that captivates the reader. Johnson is always lofty; +he seems, to use Dryden's phrase, to be "o'erinform'd with meaning," and +his words do not appear to himself adequate to his conception. He moves +in state, and his periods are always harmonious. His Oriental Tales are +in the true style of eastern magnificence, and yet none of them are so +much admired, as the Visions of Mirza. In matters of criticism, Johnson +is never the echo of preceding writers. He thinks, and decides, for +himself. If we except the essays on the Pleasures of Imagination, +Addison cannot be called a philosophical critic. His moral essays are +beautiful; but in that province nothing can exceed the Rambler, though +Johnson used to say, that the essay on "the burthens of mankind," (in +the Spectator, No. 558,) was the most exquisite he had ever read. +Talking of himself, Johnson said, "Topham Beauclerk has wit, and every +thing comes from him with ease; but when I say a good thing, I seem to +labour." When we compare him with Addison, the contrast is still +stronger: Addison lends grace and ornament to truth; Johnson gives it +force and energy. Addison makes virtue amiable; Johnson represents it as +an awful duty: Addison insinuates himself with an air of modesty; +Johnson commands like a dictator; but a dictator in his splendid robes, +not labouring at the plough: Addison is the Jupiter of Virgil, with +placid serenity talking to Venus, + + "Vultu, quo coelum tempestatesque serenat." + +Johnson is Jupiter Tonans: he darts his lightning and rolls his thunder, +in the cause of virtue and piety. The language seems to fall short of +his ideas; he pours along, familiarizing the terms of philosophy, with +bold inversions, and sonorous periods; but we may apply to him, what +Pope has said of Homer: "It is the sentiment that swells and fills out +the diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it: like glass +in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, as the breath within +is more powerful, and the heat more intense." + +It is not the design of this comparison to decide between these two +eminent writers. In matters of taste every reader will choose for +himself. Johnson is always profound, and, of course, gives the fatigue +of thinking. Addison charms, while he instructs; and writing, as he +always does, a pure, an elegant, and idiomatic style, he may be +pronounced the safest model for imitation. + +The essays written by Johnson in the Adventurer, may be called a +continuation of the Rambler. The Idler, in order to be consistent with +the assumed character, is written with abated vigour, in a style of ease +and unlaboured elegance. It is the Odyssey, after the Iliad. Intense +thinking would not become the Idler. The first number presents a well-drawn +portrait of an Idler, and from that character no deviation could +be made. Accordingly, Johnson forgets his austere manner, and plays us +into sense. He still continues his lectures on human life, but he +adverts to common occurrences, and is often content with the topic of +the day. An advertisement in the beginning of the first volume informs +us, that twelve entire essays were a contribution from different hands. +One of these, No. 33, is the journal of a senior fellow, at Cambridge, +but, as Johnson, being himself an original thinker, always revolted from +servile imitation, he has printed the piece with an apology, importing, +that the journal of a citizen, in the Spectator, almost precluded the +attempt of any subsequent writer. This account of the Idler may be +closed, after observing, that the author's mother being buried on the +23rd of January, 1759, there is an admirable paper occasioned by that +event, on Saturday, the 27th of the same month, No. 41. The reader, if +he pleases, may compare it with another fine paper in the Rambler, No. +54, on the conviction that rushes on the mind at the bed of a dying +friend. + +"Rasselas," says sir John Hawkins, "is a specimen of our language +scarcely to be paralleled; it is written in a style refined to a degree +of immaculate purity, and displays the whole force of turgid eloquence." +One cannot but smile at this encomium. Rasselas, is, undoubtedly, both +elegant and sublime. It is a view of human life, displayed, it must be +owned, in gloomy colours. The author's natural melancholy, depressed, at +the time, by the approaching dissolution of his mother, darkened the +picture. A tale, that should keep curiosity awake by the artifice of +unexpected incidents, was not the design of a mind pregnant with better +things. He, who reads the heads of the chapters, will find, that it is +not a course of adventures that invites him forward, but a discussion of +interesting questions; reflections on human life; the history of Imlac, +the man of learning; a dissertation upon poetry; the character of a wise +and happy man, who discourses, with energy, on the government of the +passions, and, on a sudden, when death deprives him of his daughter, +forgets all his maxims of wisdom, and the eloquence that adorned them, +yielding to the stroke of affliction, with all the vehemence of the +bitterest anguish. It is by pictures of life, and profound moral +reflection, that expectation is engaged, and gratified throughout the +work. The history of the mad astronomer, who imagines that, for five +years, he possessed the regulation of the weather, and that the sun +passed, from tropic to tropic, by his direction, represents, in striking +colours, the sad effects of a distempered imagination. It becomes the +more affecting when we recollect, that it proceeds from one who lived in +fear of the same dreadful visitation; from one who says emphatically: +"Of the uncertainties in our present state, the most dreadful and +alarming is the uncertain continuance of reason." The inquiry into the +cause of madness, and the dangerous prevalence of imagination, till, in +time, some particular train of ideas fixes the attention, and the mind +recurs constantly to the favourite conception, is carried on in a strain +of acute observation; but it leaves us room to think, that the author +was transcribing from his own apprehensions. The discourse on the nature +of the soul, gives us all that philosophy knows, not without a tincture +of superstition. It is remarkable, that the vanity of human pursuits +was, about the same time, the subject that employed both Johnson and +Voltaire; but Candide is the work of a lively imagination; and Rasselas, +with all its splendour of eloquence, exhibits a gloomy picture. It +should, however, be remembered, that the world has known the weeping, as +well as the laughing philosopher. + +The Dictionary does not properly fall within the province of this essay. +The preface, however, will be found in this edition. He who reads the +close of it, without acknowledging the force of the pathethic and +sublime, must have more insensibility in his composition, than usually +falls to the share of a man. The work itself, though, in some instances, +abuse has been loud, and, in others, malice has endeavoured to undermine +its fame, still remains the MOUNT ATLAS of English literature. + + "Though storms and tempests thunder on its brow, + And oceans break their billows at its feet, + It stands unmov'd, and glories in its height." + +That Johnson was eminently qualified for the office of a commentator on +Shakespeare, no man can doubt; but it was an office which he never +cordially embraced. The public expected more than he had diligence to +perform; and yet his edition has been the ground, on which every +subsequent commentator has chosen to build. One note, for its +singularity, may be thought worthy of notice in this place. Hamlet says, +"For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god-kissing +carrion." In this Warburton discovered the origin of evil. Hamlet, he +says, breaks off in the middle of the sentence; but the learned +commentator knows what he was going to say, and, being unwilling to keep +the secret, he goes on in a train of philosophical reasoning, that +leaves the reader in astonishment. Johnson, with true piety, adopts the +fanciful hypothesis, declaring it to be a noble emendation, which almost +sets the critic on a level with the author. The general observations at +the end of the several plays, and the preface, will be found in this +edition. The former, with great elegance and precision, give a summary +view of each drama. The preface is a tract of great erudition and +philosophical criticism. + +Johnson's political pamphlets, whatever was his motive for writing them, +whether gratitude for his pension, or the solicitation of men in power, +did not support the cause for which they were undertaken. They are +written in a style truly harmonious, and with his usual dignity of +language. When it is said that he advanced positions repugnant to the +"common rights of mankind," the virulence of party may be suspected. It +is, perhaps, true, that in the clamour, raised throughout the kingdom, +Johnson overheated his mind; but he was a friend to the rights of man, +and he was greatly superior to the littleness of spirit, that might +incline him to advance what he did not think and firmly believe. In the +False Alarm, though many of the most eminent men in the kingdom +concurred in petitions to the throne, yet Johnson, having well surveyed +the mass of the people, has given, with great humour, and no less truth, +what may be called, "the birth, parentage, and education of a +remonstrance." On the subject of Falkland's islands, the fine dissuasive +from too hastily involving the world in the calamities of war, must +extort applause even from the party that wished, at that time, for +scenes of tumult and commotion. It was in the same pamphlet, that +Johnson offered battle to Junius, a writer, who, by the uncommon +elegance of his style, charmed every reader, though his object was to +inflame the nation in favour of a faction. Junius fought in the dark; he +saw his enemy, and had his full blow; while he himself remained safe in +obscurity. "But let us not," said Johnson, "mistake the venom of the +shaft, for the vigour of the bow." The keen invective which he +published, on that occasion, promised a paper war between two +combatants, who knew the use of their weapons. A battle between them was +as eagerly expected, as between Mendoza and Big Ben. But Junius, +whatever was his reason, never returned to the field. He laid down his +arms, and has, ever since, remained as secret as the man in the mask, in +Voltaire's history. + +The account of his journey to the Hebrides, or western isles of +Scotland, is a model for such as shall, hereafter, relate their travels. +The author did not visit that part of the world in the character of an +antiquary, to amuse us with wonders taken from the dark and fabulous +ages; nor, as a mathematician, to measure a degree, and settle the +longitude and latitude of the several islands. Those, who expected such +information, expected what was never intended. "In every work regard the +writer's end." Johnson went to see men and manners, modes of life, and +the progress of civilization. His remarks are so artfully blended with +the rapidity and elegance of his narrative, that the reader is inclined +to wish, as Johnson did, with regard to Gray, that "to travel, and to +tell his travels, had been more of his employment." + +As to Johnson's Parliamentary Debates, nothing, with propriety, can be +said in this place. They are collected, in two volumes, by Mr. +Stockdale, and the flow of eloquence which runs through the several +speeches, is sufficiently known. + +It will not be useless to mention two more volumes, which may form a +proper supplement to this edition. They contain a set of sermons, left +for publication by John Taylor, LL.D. The reverend Mr. Hayes, who +ushered these discourses into the world, has not given them, as the +composition of Dr. Taylor. All he could say for his departed friend was, +that he left them, in silence, among his papers. Mr. Hayes knew them to +be the production of a superior mind; and the writer of these memoirs +owes it to the candour of that elegant scholar, that he is now warranted +to give an additional proof of Johnson's ardour in the cause of piety, +and every moral duty. The last discourse in the collection was intended +to be delivered by Dr. Taylor, at the funeral of Johnson's wife; but +that reverend gentleman declined the office, because, as he told Mr. +Hayes, the praise of the deceased was too much amplified. He, who reads +the piece, will find it a beautiful moral lesson, written with temper, +and nowhere overcharged with ambitious ornaments. The rest of the +discourses were the fund, which Dr. Taylor, from time to time, carried +with him to his pulpit. He had the _largest bull_[dd] in England, and +some of the best sermons. + +We come now to the Lives of the Poets, a work undertaken at the age of +seventy, yet, the most brilliant, and, certainly, the most popular, of +all our author's writings. For this performance he needed little +preparation. Attentive always to the history of letters, and, by his own +natural bias, fond of biography, he was the more willing to embrace the +proposition of the booksellers. He was versed in the whole body of +English poetry, and his rules of criticism were settled with precision. +The dissertation, in the life of Cowley, on the metaphysical poets of +the last century, has the attraction of novelty, as well as sound +observation. The writers, who followed Dr. Donne, went in quest of +something better than truth and nature. As Sancho says, in Don Quixote, +they wanted better bread than is made with wheat. They took pains to +bewilder themselves, and were ingenious for no other purpose than to +err. In Johnson's review of Cowley's works, false wit is detected in all +its shapes, and the Gothic taste for glittering conceits, and far-fetched +allusions, is exploded, never, it is hoped, to revive again. + +An author who has published his observations on the Life and Writings of +Dr. Johnson, speaking of the Lives of the Poets, says, "These +compositions, abounding in strong and acute remark, and with many fine, +and even sublime, passages, have, unquestionably, great merit; but, if +they be regarded, merely as containing narrations of the lives, +delineations of the characters, and strictures of the several authors, +they are far from being always to be depended on." He adds: "The +characters are sometimes partial, and there is, sometimes, too much +malignity of misrepresentation, to which, perhaps, may be joined no +inconsiderable portion of erroneous criticism." The several clauses of +this censure deserve to be answered, as fully as the limits of this +essay will permit. + +In the first place, the facts are related upon the best intelligence, +and the best vouchers that could be gleaned, after a great lapse of +time. Probability was to be inferred from such materials, as could be +procured, and no man better understood the nature of historical evidence +than Dr. Johnson; no man was more religiously an observer of truth. If +his history is any where defective, it must be imputed to the want of +better information, and the errors of uncertain tradition. + + "Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura." + +If the strictures on the works of the various authors are not always +satisfactory, and if erroneous criticism may sometimes be suspected, who +can hope, that in matters of taste, all shall agree? The instances, in +which the public mind has differed, from the positions advanced by the +author, are few in number. It has been said, that justice has not been +done to Swift; that Gay and Prior are undervalued; and that Gray has +been harshly treated. This charge, perhaps, ought not to be disputed. +Johnson, it is well known, had conceived a prejudice against Swift. His +friends trembled for him, when he was writing that life, but were +pleased, at last, to see it executed with temper and moderation. As to +Prior, it is probable that he gave his real opinion, but an opinion that +will not be adopted by men of lively fancy. With regard to Gray, when he +condemns the apostrophe, in which father Thames is desired to tell who +drives the hoop, or tosses the ball, and then adds, that father Thames +had no better means of knowing than himself; when he compares the abrupt +beginning of the first stanza of the bard, to the ballad of Johnny +Armstrong, "Is there ever a man in all Scotland;" there are, perhaps, +few friends of Johnson, who would not wish to blot out both the +passages. + +It may be questioned, whether the remarks on Pope's Essay on Man can be +received, without great caution. It has been already mentioned, that +Crousaz, a professor in Switzerland, eminent for his Treatise of Logic, +started up a professed enemy to that poem. Johnson says, "his mind was +one of those, in which philosophy and piety are happily united. He +looked, with distrust, upon all metaphysical systems of theology, and +was persuaded, that the positions of Pope were intended to draw mankind +away from revelation, and to represent the whole course of things, as a +necessary concatenation of indissoluble fatality." This is not the place +fur a controversy about the Leibnitzian system. Warburton, with all the +powers of his large and comprehensive mind, published a vindication of +Pope; and yet Johnson says, that, "in many passages, a religious eye may +easily discover expressions not very favourable to morals, or to +liberty." This sentence is severe, and, perhaps, dogmatical. Crousaz +wrote an Examen of the Essay on Man, and, afterwards, a commentary on +every remarkable passage; and, though it now appears, that Mrs. +Elizabeth Carter translated the foreign critic, yet it is certain, that +Johnson encouraged the work, and, perhaps, imbibed those early +prejudices, which adhered to him to the end of his life. He shuddered at +the idea of irreligion. Hence, we are told, in the life of Pope, "Never +were penury of knowledge, and vulgarity of sentiment, so happily +disguised; Pope, in the chair of wisdom, tells much that every man +knows, and much that he did not know himself; and gives us comfort in +the position, that though man's a fool, yet God is wise; that human +advantages are unstable; that our true honour is, not to have a great +part, but to act it well; that virtue only is our own, and that +happiness is always in our power." The reader, when he meets all this in +its new array, no longer knows the talk of his mother and his nurse. +But, may it not be said, that every system of ethics must, or ought, to +terminate, in plain and general maxims for the use of life? and, though +in such anxioms no discovery is made, does not the beauty of the moral +theory consist in the premises, and the chain of reasoning that leads to +the conclusion? May not truth, as Johnson himself says, be conveyed to +the mind by a new train of intermediate images? Pope's doctrine, about +the ruling passion, does not seem to be refuted, though it is called, in +harsh terms, pernicious, as well as false, tending to establish a kind +of moral predestination, or overruling principle, which cannot be +resisted. But Johnson was too easily alarmed in the cause of religion. +Organized as the human race is, individuals have different inlets of +perception, different powers of mind, and different sensations of +pleasure and pain. + + "All spread their charms, but charm not all alike, + On different senses different objects strike: + Hence different passions more or less inflame, + As strong or weak the organs of the frame. + And hence one master-passion in the breast, + Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest." + +Brumoy says, Pascal, from his infancy, felt himself a geometrician; and +Vandyke, in like manner, was a painter. Shakespeare, who, of all poets, +had the deepest insight into human nature, was aware of a prevailing +bias in the operations of every mind. By him we are told, "Masterless +passion sways us to the mood of what it likes or loathes." + +It remains to inquire, whether, in the lives before us, the characters +are partial, and too often drawn with malignity of misrepresentation? To +prove this, it is alleged, that Johnson has misrepresented the +circumstances relative to the translation of the first Iliad, and +maliciously ascribed that performance to Addison, instead of Tickell, +with too much reliance on the testimony of Pope, taken from the account +in the papers left by Mr. Spence. For a refutation of the fallacy +imputed to Addison, we are referred to a note in the Biographia +Britannica, written by the late judge Blackstone, who, it is said, +examined the whole matter with accuracy, and found, that the first +regular statement of the accusation against Addison, was published by +Ruffhead, in his life of Pope, from the materials which he received from +Dr. Warburton. But, with all due deference to the learned judge, whose +talents deserve all praise, this account is by no means accurate. + +Sir Richard Steele, in a dedication of the comedy of the Drummer, to Mr. +Congreve, gave the first insight into that business. He says, in a style +of anger and resentment: "If that gentleman (Mr. Tickell) thinks himself +injured, I will allow I have wronged him upon this issue, that, if the +reputed translator of the first book of Homer shall please to give us +another book, there shall appear another good judge in poetry, besides +Mr. Alexander Pope, who shall like it." The authority of Steele +outweighs all opinions, founded on vain conjecture, and, indeed, seems +to be decisive, since we do not find that Tickell, though warmly +pressed, thought proper to vindicate himself. + +But the grand proof of Johnson's malignity, is the manner in which he +has treated the character and conduct of Milton. To enforce this charge +has wearied sophistry, and exhausted the invention of a party. What they +cannot deny, they palliate; what they cannot prove, they say is +probable. But why all this rage against Dr. Johnson? Addison, before +him, had said of Milton: + + "Oh! had the poet ne'er profan'd his pen, + To varnish o'er the guilt of faithless men!" + +And had not Johnson an equal right to avow his sentiments? Do his +enemies claim a privilege to abuse whatever is valuable to Englishmen, +either in church or state? and must the liberty of unlicensed printing +be denied to the friends of the British constitution? + +It is unnecessary to pursue the argument through all its artifices, +since, dismantled of ornament and seducing language, the plain truth may +be stated in a narrow compass. Johnson knew that Milton was a +republican: he says, "an acrimonious and surly republican, for which it +is not known that he gave any better reason than, that a popular +government was the most frugal; for the trappings of a monarchy would +set up an ordinary commonwealth." Johnson knew that Milton talked aloud +"of the danger of readmitting kingship in this nation;" and when Milton +adds, "that a commonwealth was commended, or rather enjoined, by our +Saviour himself, to all christians, not without a remarkable +disallowance, and the brand of gentilism upon kingship," Johnson thought +him no better than a wild enthusiast. He knew, as well as Milton, "that +the happiness of a nation must needs be firmest and certainest in a full +and free council of their own electing, where no single person, but +reason only, sways;" but the example of all the republicks, recorded in +the annals of mankind, gave him no room to hope, that reason only would +be heard. He knew, that the republican form of government, having little +or no complication, and no consonance of parts, by a nice mechanism +forming a regular whole, was too simple to be beautiful, even in theory. +In practice it, perhaps, never existed. In its most flourishing state, +at Athens, Rome, and Carthage, it was a constant scene of tumult and +commotion. From the mischiefs of a wild democracy, the progress has ever +been to the dominion of an aristocracy; and the word aristocracy, +fatally includes the boldest and most turbulent citizens, who rise by +their crimes, and call themselves the best men in the state. By +intrigue, by cabal, and faction, a pernicious oligarchy is sure to +succeed, and end, at last, in the tyranny of a single ruler. Tacitus, +the great master of political wisdom, saw, under the mixed authority of +king, nobles, and people, a better form of government than Milton's +boasted republick; and what Tacitus admired in theory, but despaired of +enjoying, Johnson saw established in this country. He knew that it had +been overturned by the rage of frantic men; but he knew that, after the +iron rod of Cromwell's usurpation, the constitution was once more +restored to its first principles. Monarchy was established, and this +country was regenerated. It was regenerated a second time, at the +revolution: the rights of men were then defined, and the blessings of +good order, and civil liberty, have been ever since diffused through the +whole community. + +The peace and happiness of society were what Dr. Johnson had at heart. +He knew that Milton called his defence of the regicides, a defence of +the people of England; but, however glossed and varnished, he thought it +an apology for murder. Had the men, who, under a show of liberty, +brought their king to the scaffold, proved, by their subsequent conduct, +that the public good inspired their actions, the end might have given +some sanction to the means; but usurpation and slavery followed. Milton +undertook the office of secretary, under the despotic power of Cromwell, +offering the incense of adulation to his master, with the titles of +"director of public councils, the leader of unconquered armies, the +father of his country." Milton declared, at the same time, "that nothing +is more pleasing to God, or more agreeable to reason, than that the +highest mind should have the sovereign power." In this strain of servile +flattery, Milton gives us the right divine of tyrants. But it seems, in +the same piece, he exhorts Cromwell "not to desert those great +principles of liberty which he had professed to espouse; for, it would +be a grievous enormity, if, after having successfully opposed tyranny, +he should himself act the part of a tyrant, and betray the cause that he +had defended." This desertion of every honest principle the advocate for +liberty lived to see. Cromwell acted the tyrant; and, with vile +hypocrisy, told the people, that he had consulted the Lord, and the Lord +would have it so. Milton took an under part in the tragedy. Did that +become the defender of the people of England? Brutus saw his country +enslaved; he struck the blow for freedom, and he died with honour in the +cause. Had he lived to be a secretary under Tiberius, what would now be +said of his memory? + +But still, it seems, the prostitution with which Milton is charged, +since it cannot be defended, is to be retorted on the character of +Johnson. For this purpose, a book has been published, called Remarks on +Dr. Johnson's Life of Milton; to which are added, Milton's Tractate of +Education, and Areopagitica. In this laboured tract we are told, "There +is one performance, ascribed to the pen of the Doctor, where the +prostitution is of so singular a nature, that it would be difficult to +select an adequate motive for it, out of the mountainous heap of +conjectural causes of human passions, or human caprice. It is the speech +of the late unhappy Dr. William Dodd, when he was about to hear the +sentence of the law pronounced upon him, in consequence of an indictment +for forgery. The voice of the public has given the honour of +manufacturing this speech to Dr. Johnson; and the style, and +configuration of the speech itself, confirm the imputation. But it is +hardly possible to divine what could be his motive for accepting the +office. A man, to express the precise state of mind of another, about to +be destined to an ignominious death, for a capital crime, should, one +would imagine, have some consciousness, that he himself had incurred +some guilt of the same kind." In all the schools of sophistry, is there +to be found so vile an argument? In the purlieus of Grub street, is +there such another mouthful of dirt? In the whole quiver of malice, is +there so envenomed a shaft? + +After this, it is to be hoped, that a certain class of men will talk no +more of Johnson's malignity. The last apology for Milton is, that he +acted according to his principles. But Johnson thought those principles +detestable; pernicious to the constitution, in church and state, +destructive of the peace of society, and hostile to the great fabric of +civil policy, which the wisdom of ages has taught every Briton to +revere, to love, and cherish. He reckoned Milton in that class of men, +of whom the Roman historian says, when they want, by a sudden +convulsion, to overturn the government, they roar and clamour for +liberty; if they succeed, they destroy liberty itself: "Ut imperium +evertant, libertatem praeferunt; si perverterint, libertatem ipsam +aggredientur." Such were the sentiments of Dr. Johnson; and it may be +asked, in the language of Bolingbroke, "Are these sentiments, which any +man, who is born a Briton, in any circumstances, in any situation, ought +to be ashamed, or afraid to avow?" Johnson has done ample justice to +Milton's poetry: the criticism on Paradise Lost is a sublime +composition. Had he thought the author as good and pious a citizen as +Dr. Watts, he would have been ready, notwithstanding his nonconformity, +to do equal honour to the memory of the man. + +It is now time to close this essay, which the author fears has been +drawn too much into length. In the progress of the work, feeble as it +may be, he thought himself performing the last human office to the +memory of a friend, whom he loved, esteemed, and honoured: + + "His saltern accumulem donis, et fungar inani + Munere."-- + +The author of these memoirs has been anxious to give the features of the +man, and the true character of the author. He has not suffered the hand +of partiality to colour his excellencies with too much warmth; nor has +he endeavoured to throw his singularities too much into the shade. Dr. +Johnson's failings may well be forgiven, for the sake of his virtues. +His defects were spots in the sun. His piety, his kind affections, and +the goodness of his heart, present an example worthy of imitation. His +works still remain a monument of genius and of learning. Had he written +nothing but what is contained in this edition, the quantity shows a life +spent in study and meditation. If to this be added, the labour of his +Dictionary, and other various productions, it may be fairly allowed, as +he used to say of himself, that he has written his share. In the volumes +here presented to the public the reader will find a perpetual source of +pleasure and instruction. With due precautions, authors may learn to +grace their style with elegance, harmony, and precision; they may be +taught to think with vigour and perspicuity; and, to crown the whole, by +a diligent attention to these books, all may advance in virtue. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. ii. p. 465, 4to. edit. +[b] This appears in a note to Johnson's Diary, prefixed to the first of + his Prayers. After the alteration of the style, he kept his birthday + on the 18th of September, and it is accordingly marked September + 7/18 +[c] The impression which this interview left on Johnson's fancy, is + recorded by Mrs. Piozzi in her anecdotes; and Johnson's description + of it is picturesque and poetical. Being asked if he could remember + queen Anne, "he had (he said) a confused, but somehow a sort of + solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood." +--ED. +[d] The entry of this is remarkable for his early resolution to preserve + through life a fair and upright character. "1732, Junii 15. Undecim + aureos deposui, quo die, quidquid ante matris funus (quod serum sit + precor) de paternis bonis sperare licet, viginti scilicet libras, + accepi. Usque adeo mihi mea fortuna fingenda est. Interea, ne + paupertate vires animi languescant, nec in flagitia egestas abigat, + cavendum." +[e] This, Mr. Bruce, the late traveller, avers to be a downright + falsehood. He says, a deep pool of water reaches to the very foot of + the rock; and, allowing that there was a seat or bench (which there + is not) in the middle of the pool, it is absolutely impossible, by + any exertion of human strength, to have arrived at it. But it may be + asked, can Mr. Bruce say what was the face of the country in the + year 1622, when Lobo saw the magnificent sight which he has + described? Mr. Bruce's pool of water may have been formed since; and + Lobo, perhaps, was content to sit down without a bench. +[f] After comparing this description with that lately given by Mr. + Bruce, the reader will judge, whether Lobo is to lose the honour of + having been at the head of the Nile, near two centuries before any + other European traveller. +[g] See the Gentleman's Magazine for 1736, p. 418. +[h] It is added to the present edition of Dr. Johnson's works; vol. v. + p. 202. +[i] Afterwards earl of Roslin. He died January 3, 1805. + +[Transcriber's Note: There is no Footnote [j]] + +[k] Mr. Boswell says, "The simple truth I had from Johnson himself. + 'Sir, he was impertinent to me, and I beat him. But it was not in + his shop: it was in my own chamber.'" +[l] Dr. Johnson denies the whole of this story. See Boswell's Life, vol. + i. p. 128. oct. edit. 1804. +[m] Letter 212. +[n] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxxi. p. 190. +[o] It has since been paralleled, in the case of the Shakespeare MSS. by + a yet more vile impostor. +[p] Life of Johnson, vol. i. p.328. 4to. edit. +[q] See Gentleman's Magazine for Nov. and Dec. 1787. +[r] See Gentleman's Magazine for Dec. 1787, p. 1042. +[s] This work was not published until the year 1767, when Dr. Johnson's + Dictionary was fully established in reputation. +[t] See Scaliger's epigram on this subject, (communicated, without + doubt, by Dr. Johnson,) Gent. Mag. 1748, p. 8. +[u] See Johnson's epitaph on him, in this volume, p. 130. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] Mr. Boswell's account of this introduction is very different from + the above. See his Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 360. 8vo. edit. 1804. +[y] It is there deposited. +[z] Before this authentic communication, Mr. Nichols had given, in the + volume of the Gentleman's Magazine, for 1781, p. 370, the following + account of the Universal History. The proposals were published + October 6, 1729; and the authors of the first seven volumes were, + +Vol. I. Mr. Sale, translator of the Koran. IV. The same as vol. iii. + II. George Psalmanazar. V. Mr. Bower. + III. George Psalmanazar. VI. Mr. Bower. + Archibald Bower. Rev. John Swinton. + Captain Shelvock. VII. Mr. Swinton. + Dr. Campbell. Mr. Bower. + +[aa] On the subject of voluntary penance, see the Rambler, No. 110. +[bb] It is to be regretted, that he was not encouraged in this + undertaking. The assistance, however, which he gave to Davies, in + writing the Life of Garrick, has been acknowledged, in general + terms, by that writer, and, from the evidence of style, appears to + have been very considerable. +[cc] Dr. Johnson informed Mr. Boswell, that this epilogue was written by + sir William Yonge. See Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 469-- + 70. 8vo. edit. 1804. The internal evidence, that it is not + Johnson's, is very strong, particularly in the line, "But how the + devil," &c. +[dd] See Johnson's letters from Ashbourne, in this volume. + +POEMS. + +PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS + +TO THE IMITATIONS OF THE + +THIRD AND TENTH SATIRES OF JUVENAL. + +We will not examine here Johnson's poetical merits, since that +discussion will more properly introduce his Lives of the Poets, but +merely offer some few biographical remarks. In the poem of London, Mr. +Boswell was of opinion, that Johnson did not allude to Savage, under the +name of Thales, and adds, for his reason, that Johnson was not so much +as acquainted with Savage when he _wrote_ his London. About a month, +however, before he _published_ this poem, he addressed the following +lines to him, through the Gentleman's Magazine, for April, 1738. + + AD RICARDUM SAVAGE. + + Humanani studium generis cui pectore fervet + O colat humanum te, foveatque, genus! + +We cannot certainly infer, from this, an intimacy with Savage, but it is +more probable, that these lines flowed from a feeling of private +friendship, than mere admiration of an author, in a public point of +view; and they, at any rate, give credibility to the general opinion, +that, under the name of Thales, the poet referred to the author of the +Wanderer, who was, at this time, preparing for his retreat to Wales, +whither he actually went in the ensuing year. + +The names of Lydiat, Vane, and Sedley, which are brought forward in the +poem on the Vanity of Human Wishes, as examples of inefficiency of +either learning or beauty, to shield their possessors from distress, +have exercised inquiry. The following is the best account of them we can +collect: + +THOMAS LYDIAT was born in 1572. After passing through the studies of the +university of Oxford, with applause, he was elected fellow of New +college; but his defective utterance induced him to resign his +fellowship, in order to avoid entering holy orders, and to live upon a +small patrimony. He was highly esteemed by the accomplished and +unfortunate prince Henry, son of James the first. But his hopes of +provision in that quarter were blasted by that prince's premature death; +and he then accompanied the celebrated Usher into Ireland. After two or +three years, he returned to England, and poverty induced him now to +accept the rectory of Okerton, near Banbury, which he had before +declined. Here he imprudently became security for the debts of a +relation, and, being unable to pay, was imprisoned for several years. He +was released, at last, by his patron, Usher, sir W. Boswell, Dr. Pink, +then warden of New college, and archbishop Laud, to whom he showed his +gratitude by writing in defence of his measures of church-government. He +now applied to Charles the first for his protection and encouragement to +travel into the east, to collect MSS. but the embarrassed state of the +king's affairs prevented his petition from receiving attention. Lastly, +his well-known attachment to the royal cause drew upon him the repeated +violence of the parliament troops, who plundered, imprisoned, and abused +him, in the most cruel manner. He died in obscurity and indigence, in +1646. A stone was laid over his grave in Okerton church, in 1669, by the +society of New college, who also erected an honorary monument to his +memory in the cloisters of their college. We have dwelt thus long on +Lydiat's name, because, when this poem was published, it was a subject +of inquiry, who Lydiat was, though some of his contemporaries, both in +England and on the continent, ranked him with lord Bacon, in +mathematical and physical knowledge. For a more detailed account, see +Chalmers' Biographical Dictionary, vol. xxi. whence the above facts have +been extracted, and Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxviii. GALILEO, and his +history, are too well known to require a note in this place. + +The VANE, who told, "what ills from beauty spring," was not Lady Vane, +the subject of Smollett's memoirs, in Peregrine Pickle, but, according +to Mr. Malone, she was Anne Vane, mistress to Frederick prince of Wales, +and died in 1736, not long before Johnson settled in London. Some +account of her was published, under the title of the Secret History of +Vanella, 8vo. 1732, and in other similar works, referred to in Boswell, +i. 173. In Mr. Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, we find lord Hailes +objecting to the instances of unfortunate beauties selected by Johnson, +and suggesting, in place of Vane and Sedley, the names of Shore and +Valière. + +CATHERINE SEDLEY was daughter of sir Charles Sedley, mistress of king +James the second, who created her countess of Dorchester. She was a +woman of a sprightly and agreeable wit, which could charm without the +aid of beauty, and longer maintain its power. She had been the king's +mistress before he ascended the throne, and soon after (January 2, +1685-6) was created countess of Dorchester. Sir C. Sedley, her father, +looked on this title, as a splendid indignity, purchased at the expense of +his daughter's honour; and when he was very active against the king, about +the time of the revolution, he said, that, in gratitude, he should do +his utmost to make his majesty's daughter a queen, as the king had made +his own a countess. The king continued to visit her, which gave great +uneasiness to the queen, who employed her friends, particularly the +priests, to persuade him to break off the correspondence. They +remonstrated with him on the guilt of the commerce, and the reproach it +would bring on the catholic religion; she, on the contrary, employed the +whole force of her ridicule against the priests and their counsels. +They, at length, prevailed, and he is said to have sent her word to +retire to France, or that her pension of 4,000_l_. a year should be +withdrawn. She then, probably, repented of having been the royal +mistress, and "cursed the form that pleased the king." + +See Manning and Bray's Surrey, ii. 788. where the countess's issue is +also given. See, also, Christian's note on Blackstone's Com. iv. p. 65. +It is remarkable, that when Johnson was asked, at a late period of his +life, to whom he had alluded, under the name of Sedley, he said, that he +had quite forgotten. See note on Idler, No. 36.--ED. + +LONDON; A POEM: + +IN IMITATION OF + +THE THIRD SATIRE OF JUVENAL + +WRITTEN IN 1738. + + --Quis ineptae +Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se? JUV. + +[a]Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel, +When injur'd Thales bids the town farewell, +Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend, +I praise the hermit, but regret the friend; +Resolv'd at length, from vice and London far, +To breathe, in distant fields, a purer air, +And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore, +Give to St. David one true Briton more. +[b]For who would leave, unbrib'd, Hibernia's land, +Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand? +There none are swept by sudden fate away, +But all, whom hunger spares, with age decay: +Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire, +And now a rabble rages, now a fire; +Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay, +And here the fell attorney prowls for prey; +Here falling houses thunder on your head, +And here a female atheist talks you dead. + [c]While Thales waits the wherry, that contains +Of dissipated wealth the small remains, +On Thames's banks, in silent thought, we stood +Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood; +Struck with the seat that gave Eliza[A] birth, +We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth; +In pleasing dreams the blissful age renew, +And call Britannia's glories back to view; +Behold her cross triumphant on the main, +The guard of commerce, and the dread of Spain, +Ere masquerades debauch'd, excise oppress'd +Or English honour grew a standing jest. + A transient calm the happy scenes bestow, +And, for a moment, lull the sense of woe. +At length awaking, with contemptuous frown, +Indignant Thales eyes the neighb'ring town. + [d] Since worth, he cries, in these degen'rate days, +Wants ev'n the cheap reward of empty praise; +In those curs'd walls, devote to vice and gain, +Since unrewarded science toils in vain; +Since hope but sooths to double my distress, +And ev'ry moment leaves my little less; +While yet my steady steps no [e]staff sustains, +And life, still vig'rous, revels in my veins; +Grant me, kind heaven, to find some happier place, +Where honesty and sense are no disgrace; +Some pleasing bank where verdant osiers play, +Some peaceful vale, with nature's paintings gay; +Where once the harass'd Briton found repose, +And, safe in poverty, defied his foes; +Some secret cell, ye pow'rs, indulgent give, +[f]Let--live here, for--has learn'd to live. +Here let those reign, whom pensions can incite +To vote a patriot black, a courtier white; +Explain their country's dear-bought rights away, +And plead for[B] pirates in the face of day; +With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth, +And lend a lie the confidence of truth. +[g]Let such raise palaces, and manors buy, +Collect a tax, or farm a lottery; +With warbling eunuchs fill a [C]licens'd [D]stage, +And lull to servitude a thoughtless age. +Heroes, proceed! what bounds your pride shall hold, +What check restrain your thirst of pow'r and gold? +Behold rebellious virtue quite o'erthrown, +Behold our fame, our wealth, our lives, your own. +To such the plunder of a land is giv'n, +When publick crimes inflame the wrath of heaven: +[h]But what, my friend, what hope remains for me. +Who start at theft, and blush at perjury? +Who scarce forbear, though Britain's court he sing, +To pluck a titled poet's borrow'd wing; +A statesman's logick unconvinc'd can hear. +And dare to slumber o'er the [E]Gazetteer; +Despise a fool in half his pension dress'd, +And strive, in vain, to laugh at Clodio's jest[F]. +[i]Others, with softer smiles, and subtler art, +Can sap the principles, or taint the heart; +With more address a lover's note convey, +Or bribe a virgin's innocence away. +Well may they rise, while I, whose rustick tongue +Ne'er knew to puzzle right, or varnish wrong, +Spurn'd as a beggar, dreaded as a spy, +Live unregarded, unlamented die. +[k]For what but social guilt the friend endears? +Who shares Orgilio's crimes, his fortune shares. +[l]But thou, should tempting villany present +All Marlb'rough hoarded, or all Villiers spent, +Turn from the glitt'ring bribe thy scornful eye, +Nor sell for gold, what gold could never buy, +The peaceful slumber, self-approving day, +Unsullied fame, and conscience ever gay. +[m] The cheated nation's happy fav'rites, see! +Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me! +London! the needy villain's gen'ral home, +The common sewer of Paris and of Rome; +With eager thirst, by folly or by fate, +Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state. +Forgive my transports, on a theme like this, +[n]I cannot bear a French metropolis. +[o]Illustrious Edward! from the realms of day, +The land of heroes and of saints survey; +Nor hope the British lineaments to trace, +The rustick grandeur, or the surly grace; +But, lost in thoughtless ease and empty show, +Behold the warriour dwindled to a beau; +Sense, freedom, piety, refin'd away, +Of France the mimick, and of Spain the prey. +All that at home no more can beg or steal, +Or like a gibbet better than a wheel; +Hiss'd from the stage, or hooted from the court, +Their air, their dress, their politicks, import; +[p]Obsequious, artful, voluble and gay, +On Britain's fond credulity they prey. +No gainful trade their industry can 'scape, +[q]They sing, they dance, clean shoes, or cure a clap: +All sciences a fasting Monsieur knows, +And, bid him go to hell, to hell he goes. +[r]Ah! what avails it, that, from slav'ry far, +I drew the breath of life in English air; +Was early taught a Briton's right to prize, +And lisp the tale of Henry's victories; +If the gull'd conqueror receives the chain, +And flattery prevails, when arms are vain![G] +[s]Studious to please, and ready to submit, +The supple Gaul was born a parasite: +Still to his int'rest true, where'er he goes, +Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestows; +In ev'ry face a thousand graces shine, +From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine. + [t]These arts in vain our rugged natives try, +Strain out, with fault'ring diffidence, a lie, +And get a kick[H] for awkward flattery. + Besides, with justice, this discerning age +Admires their wondrous talents for the stage: + [u]Well may they venture on the mimick's art, +Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part; +Practis'd their master's notions to embrace, +Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face; +With ev'ry wild absurdity comply, +And view each object with another's eye; +To shake with laughter, ere the jest they hear, +To pour at will the counterfeited tear; +And, as their patron hints the cold or heat. +To shake in dog-days, in December sweat. + [x]How, when competitors, like these, contend, +Can surly virtue hope to fix a friend? +Slaves that with serious impudence beguile, +And lie without a blush, without a smile; +Exalt each trifle, ev'ry vice adore, +Your taste in snuff, your judgment in a whore: +Can Balbo's eloquence applaud, and swear, +He gropes his breeches with a monarch's air. + For arts, like these, preferr'd, admir'd, caress'd, +They first invade your table, then your breast; +[y]Explore your secrets with insidious art, +Watch the weak hour, and ransack all the heart; +Then soon your ill-placed confidence repay, +Commence your lords, and govern or betray. + [z]By numbers here from shame or censure free, +All crimes are safe, but hated poverty. +This, only this, the rigid law pursues, +This, only this, provokes the snarling muse. +The sober trader at a tatter'd cloak +Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke; +With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, +And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. +[aa]Of all the griefs, that harass the distress'd, +Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest; +Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, +Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart. + [bb]Has heaven reserv'd, in pity to the poor, +No pathless waste, or undiscover'd shore? +No secret island in the boundless main? +No peaceful desert, yet unclaim'd by Spain?[I] +Quick let us rise, the happy seats explore, +And bear oppression's insolence no more. +This mournful truth is ev'ry where confess'd, +[cc]SLOW RISES WORTH, BY POVERTY DEPRESS'D: +But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, +Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold; +Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, +The groom retails the favours of his lord. +But hark! th' affrighted crowd's tumultuous cries +Roll through the streets, and thunder to the skies: +Rais'd from some pleasing dream of wealth and pow'r, +Some pompous palace, or some blissful bow'r, +Aghast you start, and scarce, with aching sight, +Sustain th' approaching fire's tremendous light; +Swift from pursuing horrours take your way, +And leave your little ALL to flames a prey; +[dd]Then through the world a wretched vagrant roam; +For where can starving merit find a home? +In vain your mournful narrative disclose, +While all neglect, and most insult your woes. +[ee]Should heav'n's just bolts Orgilio's wealth confound, +[J]And spread his flaming palace on the ground, +Swift o'er the land the dismal rumour flies, +And publick mournings pacify the skies; +The laureate tribe in venal verse relate, +How virtue wars with persecuting fate; +[ff]With well-feign'd gratitude the pension'd band +Refund the plunder of the beggar'd land. +See! while he builds, the gaudy vassals come, +And crowd with sudden wealth the rising dome; +The price of boroughs and of souls restore; +And raise his treasures higher than before. +Now bless'd with all the baubles of the great, +The polish'd marble and the shining plate, +[gg]Orgilio sees the golden pile aspire, +And hopes from angry heav'n another fire. +[hh]Could'st thou resign the park and play, content, +For the fair banks of Severn or of Trent; +There might'st thou find some elegant retreat, +Some hireling senator's deserted seat; +And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land, +For less than rent the dungeons of the Strand; +There prune thy walks, support thy drooping flowers, +Direct thy rivulets, and twine thy bowers; +[K] And, while thy grounds a cheap repast afford, +Despise the dainties of a venal lord: +There ev'ry bush with nature's musick rings; +There ev'ry breeze bears health upon its wings; +On all thy hours security shall smile, +And bless thine evening walk and morning toil. +[ii]Prepare for death, if here at night you roam, +And sign your will, before you sup from home. +[kk] Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, +Who sleeps on brambles, till he kills his man; +Some frolick drunkard, reeling from a feast, +Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest. +[ll]Yet e'en these heroes, mischievously gay, +Lords of the street, and terrours of the way; +Flush'd, as they are, with folly, youth, and wine; +Their prudent insults to the poor confine; +Afar they mark the flambeau's bright approach, +And shun the shining train, and golden coach. + [mm]In vain, these dangers past, your doors you close, +And hope the balmy blessings of repose; +Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair, +The midnight murd'rer bursts the faithless bar; +Invades the sacred hour of silent rest, +[L]And leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast. + [nn]Scarce can our fields, such crowds at Tyburn die, +With hemp the gallows and the fleet supply. +Propose your schemes, ye senatorian band, +Whose ways and means[M]support the sinking land: +Lest ropes be wanting in the tempting spring, +To rig another convoy for the king[N]. + [oo]A single gaol, in Alfred's golden reign, +Could half the nation's criminals contain; +Fair justice, then, without constraint ador'd, +Held high the steady scale, but sheath'd the sword [D]; +No spies were paid, no special juries known, +Blest age! but ah! how different from our own! + [pp]Much could I add,--but see the boat at hand, +The tide, retiring, calls me from the land: +[qq] Farewell!--When youth, and health, and fortune spent, +Thou fly'st for refuge to the wilds of Kent; +And, tir'd, like me, with follies and with crimes, +In angry numbers warn'st succeeding times; +Then shall thy friend, nor thou refuse his aid, +Still foe to vice, forsake his Cambrian shade; +In virtue's cause, once more, exert his rage, +Thy satire point, and animate thy page. + +FOOTNOTES + +[a] +Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici, +Laudo, tamen, vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis +Destinet atque unum civcm donare Sibyllae. + +[b] +--Ego vel Prochytam praepono Suburae. +Nam quid tam miserum, tam solum vidimus, ut non +Deterius credas horrere incendia, lapsus +Tectorum assiduos, ae mille pericula saevae +Urbis et Augusto recitantes mense poetas + +[c] +Sed dum tota domus reda componitur una, +Substitit ad veteres arcus-- + +[d] +Hic tunc Umbricius; Quando artibus, inquit, honestis +Nullus in urbe locus, nulla emolumenta laborum, +Res hodie minor est, here quam fuit, atque eadem eras +Deteret exiguis aliquid: proponimus illue +Ire, fatigatas ubi Daedalus exuit alas, +Dum nova canities,-- + +[e] +--et pedibus me +Porto meis, nullo dextram subeunte bacillo. + +[f] +Cedamus patria: vivant Artorius istic +Et Catulus: maneant, qui nigrum in candida vertunt. + +[g] +Queis facile est aedem conducere, flumina, portus, +Siccandam eluviem, portandum ad busta cadaver,-- +Munera nunc edunt. + +[h] +Quid Romae faciam? Mentiri nescio: librum, +Si malus est, nequeo laudare et poscere:-- + +[i] +--Ferre ad nuptam, quae mittit adulter, +Quae mandat, norunt alii; me nemo ministro +Fur erit, atque ideo nulli comes exeo,-- + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]] + +[k] +Quis nune diligitur, nisi conscius?-- +Carus erit Verri, qui Verrem tempore, quo vult, +Acuusare potest.-- + +[l] +--Tanti tibi non sit opaci +Omnis arena Tagi, quodque in mare volvitur aurum, +Ut somno careas-- + +[m] +Quae nunc divitibus gens acceptissima nostris +Et quos praecipue fugiam, properabo fateri. + +[n] +--Non possum ferre, Quirites, +Graecam urbem:-- + +[o] +Rusticus ille tuus sumit trechedipna, Quirine, +Et ceromatico fert niceteria collo. + +[p] +Ingenium velox, audacia perdita, sermo +Promptus-- + +[q] +Augur, schoenobates, medicus, magus: omnia novit. +Graeculus esuriens in coelum, jusseris, ibit. + +[r] +Usque adeo nihil est, quod nostra infantia coelum +Hausit Aventinum?-- + +[s] +Quid? quod adulandi gens prudentissima laudat +Sermonem indocti, faciem deformis amici? + +[t] +Haec eadem licet et nobis laudare: sed illis +Creditur.-- + +[u] +Natio comoeda est. Rides? majore cachinno +Coneutitur, &c. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] +Non sumus ergo pares: melior, qui semper et omni +Nocte dieque potest alienum sumere vultum, +A facie jactare manus, laudare paratus, +Si bene ructavit, si rectum minxit amicus.-- + +[y] +Scire volunt secreta domus atque inde timeri. + +[z] +--Materiam praebet causasque jocorum +Omnibus hic idem, si foeda et scissa lacerna, &c. + +[aa] +Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, +Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.-- + +[bb] +--Agmine facto, +Debuerant olim tenues migrasse Quirites. + +[cc] +Haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat +Res angusta domi; sed Romae; durior illis +Conatus:-- + --Omnia Romaae +Cum pretio.-- +Cogimur, et cultis augere peculia servis. + +[dd] +--Ultimus autem +Aerumnae cumulus, quod nudum et frustra rogautem +Nemo cibo, nemo hospitio tectoque juvabit. + +[ee] +Si magna Asturii cecidit domus, horrida mater: +Pullati proccres,-- + +[ff] +--Jam accurrit, qui marmora donet, +Conferat impensas: hic &c. + +[gg] +Hic modium argenti. Meliora, ac plura reponit +Persicus orborum lautissimus-- + +[hh] +Si potes avelli Circensibus, optima Sorae, +Aut Fabrateriae domus, aut Frusinone paratur, +Quanti nunc tenebras unum conducis in annum. +Hortulus hic-- +Vive bidentis amans et culti villicus horti; +Unde epulum possis centum dare Pythagoreis. + +[ii] +--Possis ignavus haberi +Et subiti casus improvidus, ad coenam si +Intestatus eas.-- + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [jj]] + +[kk] +Ebrius, ac petulans, qui nullum forte cecidit, +Dat poenas, noetem patitur lugentis amicum +Pelidae.-- + +[ll] +--Sed, quamvis improbus annis, +Atque mero fervens, cavet hunc, quem coccina lae [Transcriber's note: + remainder of word illegible] +Vitari jubet, et comitum longissimus ordo, +Multum praeterca flammarum, atque aenca lampas, + +[mm] +Nec tamen hoc tantum metuas: nam qui spoliet te, +Non deerit, clausis domibus, &c. + +[nn] +Maximus in vinclis ferri modus, ut timeas, ne +Vomer deficiat, ne marrae et sarcula desint. + +[oo] +Felices proavorum atavos, felicia dicas +Saecula, quae quondam sub regibus atque tribunis +Viderunt uno contentam carcere Romam. + +[pp] +His alias poteram, et plures subnectere causas: +Sed jumenta vocant-- + +[qq] +--Ergo vale nostri memor et, quoties te +Roma tuo refici properantem reddet Aquino, +Me quoque ad Helvinam Cererem vestramque Dianam +Convelle a Cumis. Satirarum ego, ni pudet illas, +Adjutor gelidos veniam caligatus in agros. + +[A] Queen Elizabeth, born at Greenwich. +[B] The invasions of the Spaniards were defended in the houses of + parliament. +[C] The licensing act was then lately made. +[D] _Our silenc'd._ +[E] The paper which, at that time, contained apologies for the court. +[F] H--y's jest. +[G] And what their armies lost, their cringes gain +[H] And _gain_ a kick. +[I] The Spaniards at this time were said to make claim to some of our + American provinces. +[J] This was by Hitch, a bookseller. Justly observed to be no picture of + modern manners, though it might be true at Rome. MS. note in Dr. + Johnson's hand-writing. +[K] And, while thy _beds_. +[L] And _plants_ unseen. +[M] A cant term in the house of commons for methods of raising money. +[N] The nation was discontented at the visits made by the king to + Hanover. +[O] _Sustain'd_ the _balance_, but _resign'd_ the sword. + + + +THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES; + +IN IMITATION OF + + THE TENTH SATIRE OF JUVENAL. + +Let[a] observation, with extensive view, +Survey mankind, from China to Peru; +Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife, +And watch the busy scenes of crowded life; +Then say, how hope and fear, desire and hate +O'erspread with snares the clouded maze of fate, +Where wav'ring man, betray'd by vent'rous pride +To tread the dreary paths, without a guide, +As treach'rous phantoms in the mist delude, +Shuns fancied ills, or chases airy good; +How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice, +Rules the bold hand, or prompts the suppliant voice. +How nations sink, by darling schemes oppress'd, +When vengeance listens to the fool's request. +Fate wings with ev'ry wish th' afflictive dart, +Each gift of nature, and each grace of art; +With fatal heat impetuous courage glows, +With fatal sweetness elocution flows, +Impeachment stops the speaker's pow'rful breath, +And restless fire precipitates on death. +[b]But, scarce observ'd, the knowing and the bold +Fall in the gen'ral massacre of gold; +Wide wasting pest! that rages unconfin'd, +And crowds with crimes the records of mankind; +For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws, +For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws; +Wealth heap'd on wealth, nor truth nor safety buys, +The dangers gather as the treasures rise. +Let hist'ry tell where rival kings command, +And dubious title shakes the madded land, +When statutes glean the refuse of the sword, +How much more safe the vassal than the lord; +Low sculks the hind beneath the rage of power, +And leaves the wealthy traitor in the Tower[c], +Untouch'd his cottage, and his slumbers sound, +Though confiscation's vultures hover round[d]. +The needy traveller, serene and gay, +Walks the wild heath, and sings his toil away. +Does envy seize thee? crush th' upbraiding joy; +Increase his riches, and his peace destroy; +[e]Now fears, in dire vicissitude, invade, +The rustling brake alarms, and quiv'ring shade; +Nor light nor darkness bring his pain relief, +One shows the plunder, and one hides the thief. +[f] Yet still one gen'ral cry[g] the skies assails, +And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales: +Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care, +Th' insidious rival, and the gaping heir. +[h]Once more, Democritus, arise on earth, +With cheerful wisdom and instructive mirth, +See motley life in modern trappings dress'd, +And feed with varied fools th' eternal jest: +Thou, who could'st laugh where want enchain'd caprice, +Toil crush'd conceit, and man was of a piece; +Where wealth, unlov'd, without a mourner died; +And scarce a sycophant was fed by pride; +Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate, +Or seen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state; +Where change of fav'rites made no change of laws, +And senates heard, before they judg'd a cause; +How would'st thou shake at Britain's modish tribe, +Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe? +Attentive truth and nature to descry, +And pierce each scene with philosophick eye; +To thee were solemn toys, or empty show, +The robes of pleasure, and the veils of woe: +All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain, +Whose joys are causeless, or whose griefs are vain. + Such was the scorn that fill'd the sage's mind, +Renew'd at ev'ry glance on human kind; +How just that scorn, ere yet thy voice declare, +Search ev'ry state, and canvass ev'ry pray'r. + [i]Unnumber'd suppliants crowd preferment's gate, +Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great; +Delusive fortune hears th' incessant call, +They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall. +On ev'ry stage the foes of peace attend, +Hate dogs their flight, and insult mocks their end. +Love ends with hope, the sinking statesman's door +Pours in the morning worshipper no more; +For growing names the weekly scribbler lies, +To growing wealth the dedicator flies; +From ev'ry room descends the painted face, +That hung the bright palladium of the place; +And, smok'd in kitchens, or in auctions sold, +To better features yields the frame of gold; +For now no more we trace in ev'ry line +Heroick worth, benevolence divine: +The form, distorted, justifies the fall, +And detestation rids th' indignant wall. + But will not Britain hear the last appeal, +Sign her foes' doom, or guard her fav'rites' zeal? +Through freedom's sons no more remonstrance rings, +Degrading nobles and controling kings; +Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats, +And ask no questions but the price of votes; +With weekly libels and septennial ale, +Their wish is full to riot and to rail. + In full-blown dignity, see Wolsey stand, +Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand; +To him the church, the realm their pow'rs consign, +Through him the rays of regal bounty shine; +Turn'd by his nod the stream of honour flows, +His smile alone security bestows. +Still to new heights his restless wishes tow'r, +Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r; +Till conquest, unresisted, ceas'd to please, +And rights, submitted, left him none to seize. +At length his sov'reign frowns--the train of state +Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate. +Where'er he turns, he meets a stranger's eye, +His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly; +Now drops, at once, the pride of awful state, +The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate, +The regal palace, the luxurious board, +The liv'ried army, and the menial lord. +With age, with cares, with maladies oppress'd, +He seeks the refuge of monastick rest: +Grief aids disease, remember'd folly stings, +And his last sighs reproach the faith of kings. + Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine, +Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end, be thine? +Or liv'st thou now, with safer pride content, +[k]The wisest justice on the banks of Trent? +For, why did Wolsey, near the steeps of fate, +On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight? +Why but to sink beneath misfortune's blow, +With louder ruin to the gulfs below? + [l]What gave great Villiers to th' assassin's knife, +And fix'd disease on Harley's closing life? +What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde, +By kings protected, and to kings allied? +What but their wish indulg'd in courts to shine, +And pow'r too great to keep, or to resign? + [m]When first the college rolls receive his name, +The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame; + [n]Through all his veins the fever of renown +Spreads from the strong contagion of the gown; +O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread, +And [o]Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head. +Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth, +And virtue guard thee to the throne of truth! +Yet, should thy soul indulge the gen'rous heat +Till captive science yields her last retreat; +Should reason guide thee with her brightest ray, +And pour on misty doubt resistless day; +Should no false kindness lure to loose delight, +Nor praise relax, nor difficulty fright; +Should tempting novelty thy cell refrain, +[p]And sloth effuse her opiate fumes in vain; +Should beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart, +Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart; +Should no disease thy torpid veins invade, +Nor melancholy's phantoms haunt thy shade; +Yet hope not life, from grief or danger free, +Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee: +Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, +And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; +There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, +Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the gaol[q]. +See nations, slowly wise and meanly just, +To buried merit raise the tardy bust. +If dreams yet flatter, once again attend, +Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end[r]. +Nor deem, when learning her last prize bestows, +The glitt'ring eminence exempt from woes; +See, when the vulgar scape[s], despis'd or aw'd, +Rebellion's vengeful talons seize on Laud. +From meaner minds though smaller fines content, +The plunder'd palace, or sequester'd rent; +Mark'd out by dang'rous parts, he meets the shock, +And fatal learning leads him to the block: +Around his tomb let art and genius weep, +But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and sleep. + [t]The festal blazes, the triumphal show, +The ravish'd standard, and the captive foe, +The senate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale, +With force resistless o'er the brave prevail. +Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Asia whirl'd; +For such the steady Romans shook the world; +For such, in distant lands, the Britons shine, +And stain with blood the Danube or the Rhine; +This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm, +Till fame supplies the universal charm. +Yet reason frowns on war's unequal game, +Where wasted nations raise a single name; +And mortgag'd states, their grandsires' wreaths regret. +From age to age in everlasting debt; +Wreaths which, at last, the dear-bought right convey +To rust on medals, or on stones decay. + [u]On what foundation stands the warriour's pride, +How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; +A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, +No dangers fright him, and no labours tire; +[x]O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, +Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; +No joys to him pacifick sceptres yield, +War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; +Behold surrounding kings their pow'rs combine, +And one capitulate, and one resign; +Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; +"Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till nought remain, +On Moscow's walls till Gothick standards fly, +And all be mine beneath the polar sky." +The march begins in military state, +And nations on his eye suspended wait; +Stern famine guards the solitary coast, +And winter barricades the realm of frost; +He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay;-- +Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa's day: +The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, +And shows his miseries in distant lands; +Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait, +While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. +But did not chance, at length, her errour mend? +Did no subverted empire mark his end? +Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? +Or hostile millions press him to the ground? +His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, +A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; +He left the name, at which the world grew pale, +To point a moral, or adorn a tale. + [y]All times their scenes of pompous woes afford, +From Persia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord. +In gay hostility and barb'rous pride, +With half mankind embattl'd at his side, +Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain prey, +And starves exhausted regions in his way; +Attendant flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er, +Till counted myriads sooth his pride no more; +Fresh praise is try'd till madness fires his mind, +The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind, +New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still bestow'd, +Till rude resistance lops the spreading god; +The daring Greeks deride the martial show, +And heap their valleys with the gaudy foe; +Th' insulted sea, with humbler thoughts, he gains; +A single skiff to speed his flight remains; +Th' incumber'd oar scarce leaves the dreaded coast +Through purple billows and a floating host. + The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour, +Tries the dread summits of Caesarean pow'r, +With unexpected legions bursts away, +And sees defenceless realms receive his sway;-- +Short sway! fair Austria spreads her mournful charms, +The queen, the beauty, sets the world in arms; +From hill to hill the beacon's rousing blaze +Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praise; +The fierce Croatian, and the wild Hussar, +[z]With all the sons of ravage, crowd the war; +The baffled prince, in honour's flatt'ring bloom +Of hasty greatness, finds the fatal doom, +His foes' derision, and his subjects' blame, +And steals to death from anguish and from shame. + [aa]Enlarge my life with multitude of days! +In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays; +Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know, +That life protracted is protracted woe. +Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, +And shuts up all the passages of joy; +In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, +The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r; +With listless eyes the dotard views the store, +He views, and wonders that they please no more; +Now pall the tasteless meats, and joyless wines, +And luxury with sighs her slave resigns. +Approach, ye minstrels, try the soothing strain, +[bb]Diffuse the tuneful lenitives of pain: +No sounds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear, +Though dancing mountains witness'd Orpheus near; +Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend, +Nor sweeter musick of a virtuous friend; +But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue, +Perversely grave, or positively wrong. +The still returning tale, and ling'ring jest, +Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest, +While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring sneer, +And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear; +The watchful guests still hint the last offence; +The daughter's petulance, the son's expense, +Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill, +And mould his passions till they make his will. + Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, +Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade; +But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains, +And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; +He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, +His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; +Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, +Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. + But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime +Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime; +[cc]An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, +And glides in modest innocence away; +Whose peaceful day benevolence endears, +Whose night congratulating conscience cheers; +The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend; +Such age there is, and who shall wish its end[dd]? + Yet e'en on this her load misfortune flings, +To press the weary minutes' flagging wings; +New sorrow rises as the day returns, +A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns. +Now kindred merit fills the sable bier, +Now lacerated friendship claims a tear; +Year chases year, decay pursues decay, +Still drops some joy from with'ring life away; +New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage, +Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage, +Till pitying nature signs the last release, +And bids afflicted worth retire to peace. + But few there are whom hours like these await, +Who set unclouded in the gulfs of fate. +From Lydia's monarch should the search descend, +By Solon caution'd to regard his end, +In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, +Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! +From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, +And Swift expires a driv'ller and a show. + [ee]The teeming mother, anxious for her race, +Begs for each birth the fortune of a face; +Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring; +And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king. +Ye nymphs of rosy lips and radiant eyes, +Whom pleasure keeps too busy to be wise; +Whom joys with soft varieties invite, +By day the frolick, and the dance by night; +Who frown with vanity, who smile with art, +And ask the latest fashion of the heart; +What care, what rules, your heedless charms shall save, +Each nymph your rival, and each youth your slave? +Against your fame with fondness hate combines, +The rival batters, and the lover mines. +With distant voice neglected virtue calls, +Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance falls; +Tir'd with contempt, she quits the slipp'ry reign, +And pride and prudence take her seat in vain. +In crowd at once, where none the pass defend, +The harmless freedom, and the private friend. +The guardians yield, by force superiour ply'd: +To int'rest, prudence; and to flatt'ry, pride. +Here beauty falls, betray'd, despis'd, distress'd, +And hissing infamy proclaims the rest. + [ff]Where then shall hope and fear their objects find? +Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind? +Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, +Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? +Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, +No cries invoke the mercies of the skies? +Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain +Which heav'n may hear; nor deem religion vain. +Still raise for good the supplicating voice, +But leave to heav'n the measure and the choice. +Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes discern afar +The secret ambush of a specious pray'r; +Implore his aid, in his decisions rest, +Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best. +Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, +And strong devotion to the skies aspires[gg], +Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, +Obedient passions, and a will resign'd; +For love, which scarce collective man can fill; +For patience, sov'reign o'er transmuted ill; +For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, +[hh]Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat: +These goods for man the laws of heav'n ordain; +These goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain; +With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, +And makes the happiness she does not find. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Ver. 1--11. +[b] Ver. 12--22. +[c] In the first edition, "the _bonny_ traitor!" an evident + allusion to the Scotch lords who suffered for the rebellion in 1745. +[d] Clang around. +[e] New fears. +[f] Ver. 23-37. +[g] Yet still the gen'ral cry. +[h] Ver. 28-55. +[i] Ver. 56--107. +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]] +[k] The richest landlord. +[l] Ver. 108--113. +[m] Ver. 114--132. +[n] + _Resistless burns the_ fever of renown, + _Caught_ from the strong contagion of the gown. + + Mr. Boswell tells us, that when he remarked to Dr. Johnson, that + there was an awkward repetition of the word spreads in this passage, + he altered it to "Burns from the strong contagion of the gown;" but + this expression, it appears, was only resumed from the reading in + the first edition. +[o] There is a tradition, that the study of friar Bacon, built on an + arch over the bridge, will fall, when a man greater than Bacon shall + pass under it. To prevent so shocking an accident, it was pulled + down many years since. +[p] And sloth's _bland_ opiates _shed_ their fumes in vain. +[q] The _garret_ and the gaol. +[r] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxviii. p. 951, 1027. +[s] This was first written, "See, when the vulgar scap_ed_;" but, + as the rest of the paragraph was in the present tense, he altered it + to scape_s_; but again recollecting that the word _vulgar_ + is never used as a singular substantive, he adopted the reading of + the text. +[t] Ver. 133--146. +[u] Ver. 147--167. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] O'er love or _force_. +[y] Ver. 168--187. +[z] _And_ all the sons. +[aa] Ver. 188--288. +[bb] And _yield_. +[cc] An age that melts _in_. +[dd] _Could_ wish its end. +[ee] Ver. 289-345. +[ff] Ver. 346-366. +[gg] + Yet, _with_ the sense of sacred presence _press'd_, + _When_ strong devotion _fills thy glowing breast_. + +[hh] _Thinks_ death. + + + +PROLOGUE, + +SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, AT THE OPENING OF THE +THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY LANE, 1747. + +When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes +First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; +Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, +Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new: +Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, +And panting time toil'd after him in vain: +His pow'rful strokes presiding truth impress'd, +And unresisted passion storm'd the breast. + Then Jonson came, instructed from the school +To please in method, and invent by rule; +His studious patience and laborious art, +By regular approach, assail'd the heart: +Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays; +For those, who durst not censure, scarce could praise: +A mortal born, he met the gen'ral doom, +But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb. + The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, +Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakespeare's flame: +Themselves they studied, as they felt, they writ; +Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit; +Vice always found a sympathetick friend; +They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend. +Yet bards, like these, aspir'd to lasting praise, +And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days. +Their cause was gen'ral, their supports were strong; +Their slaves were willing, and their reign was long: +Till shame regain'd the post that sense betray'd, +And virtue call'd oblivion to her aid. + Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd, as refin'd, +For years the pow'r of tragedy declin'd; +From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, +Till declamation roar'd, while passion slept; +Yet still did virtue deign the stage to tread, +Philosophy remain'd, though nature fled. +But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit, +She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of wit; +Exulting folly hail'd the joyful day, +And pantomime and song confirm'd her sway. + But who the coming changes can presage, +And mark the future periods of the stage? +Perhaps, if skill could distant times explore, +New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store; +Perhaps, where Lear has ray'd, and Hamlet dy'd, +On flying cars new sorcerers may ride: +Perhaps, (for who can guess th' effects of chance?) +Here Hunt[a] may box, or Mahomet may dance. + Hard is his lot that, here by fortune plac'd, +Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; +With ev'ry meteor of caprice must play, +And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. +Ah! let not censure term our fate our choice, +The stage but echoes back the publick voice; +The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, +For we that live to please, must please to live. + Then prompt no more the follies you decry, +As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die; +'Tis yours, this night, to bid the reign commence +Of rescued nature and reviving sense; +To chase the charms of sound, the pomp of show, +For useful mirth and salutary woe; +Bid scenick virtue form the rising age, +And truth diffuse her radiance from the stage. + +[a] Hunt, a famous boxer on the stage; Mahomet, a ropedancer, who had + exhibited at Covent garden theatre the winter before, said to be a + Turk. + + + +PREFATORY NOTICE TO + +THE TRAGEDY OF IRENE. + +The history of this tragedy's composition is interesting, as affording +dates to distinguish Johnson's literary progress. It was begun, and +considerably advanced, while he kept a school at Edial, near Lichfield, +in 1736. In the following year, when he relinquished the task of a +schoolmaster, so little congenial with his mind and disposition, and +resolved to seek his fortunes in the metropolis, Irene was carried along +with him as a foundation for his success. Mr. Walmsley, one of his early +friends, recommended him, and his fellow-adventurer, Garrick, to the +notice and protection of Colson, the mathematician. Unless Mrs. Piozzi +is correct, in rescuing the character of Colson from any identity with +that of Gelidus, in the Rambler[a], Johnson entertained no lively +recollection of his first patron's kindness. He was ever warm in +expressions of gratitude for favours, conferred on him in his season of +want and obscurity; and from his deep silence here, we may conclude, +that the recluse mathematician did not evince much sympathy with the +distresses of the young candidate for dramatic fame. Be this, however, +as it may, Johnson, shortly after this introduction, took lodgings at +Greenwich, to proceed with his Irene in quiet and retirement, but soon +returned to Lichfield, to complete it. The same year that saw these +successive disappointments, witnessed also Johnson's return to London, +with his tragedy completed, and its rejection by Fleetwood, the +patentee, at that time, of Drury lane theatre. Twelve years elapsed, +before it was acted, and, after many alterations by his pupil and +companion, Garrick, who was then manager of the theatre, it was, by his +zeal, and the support of the most eminent performers of the day, carried +through a representation of nine nights. Johnson's profits, after the +deduction of expenses, and together with the hundred pounds, which he +received from Robert Dodsley, for the copy, were nearly three hundred +pounds. So fallacious were the hopes cherished by Walmsley, that Johnson +would "turn out a fine tragedy writer[b]." + +"The tragedy of Irene," says Mr. Murphy, "is founded on a passage in +Knolles's History of the Turks;" an author highly commended in the +Rambler, No. 122. An incident in the life of Mahomet the great, first +emperor of the Turks, is the hinge, on which the fable is made to move. +The substance of the story is shortly this:--In 1453, Mahomet laid siege +to Constantinople, and, having reduced the place, became enamoured of a +fair Greek, whose name was Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the +law of the prophet, and to grace his throne. Enraged at this intended +marriage, the janizaries formed a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor. To +avert the impending danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, +"catching, with one hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the +hair of her head, and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one +blow, struck off her head, to the great terror of them all; and, having +so done, said unto them, 'Now, by this, judge whether your emperor is +able to bridle his affections or not[c].'" We are not unjust, we +conceive, in affirming, that there is an interest kept alive in the +plain and simple narrative of the old historian, which is lost in the +declamatory tragedy of Johnson. + +It is sufficient, for our present purpose, to confess that he _has_ +failed in this his only dramatic attempt; we shall endeavour, more +fully, to show _how_ he has failed, in our discussion of his powers as a +critic. That they were not blinded to the defects of others, by his own +inefficiency in dramatic composition, is fully proved by his judicious +remarks on Cato, which was constructed on a plan similar to Irene: and +the strongest censure, ever passed on this tragedy, was conveyed in +Garrick's application of Johnson's own severe, but correct critique, on +the wits of Charles, in whose works + + "Declamation roar'd, while passion slept."[d] + +"Addison speaks the language of poets," says Johnson, in his preface to +Shakespeare, "and Shakespeare of men. We find in Cato innumerable +beauties, which enamour us of its author, but we see nothing that +acquaints us with human sentiments, or human actions; we place it with +the fairest and the noblest progeny which judgment propagates by +conjunction with learning; but Othello is the vigorous and vivacious +offspring of observation, impregnated by genius. Cato affords a splendid +exhibition of artificial and fictitious manners, and delivers just and +noble sentiments, in diction easy, elevated and harmonious; but its +hopes and fears communicate no vibration to the heart: the composition +refers us only to the writer; we pronounce the name of Cato, but we +think on Addison." The critic's remarks on the same tragedy, in his Life +of Addison, are as applicable as the above to his own production. "Cato +is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama; rather a succession of just +sentiments in elegant language, than a representation of natural +affections, or of any state probable or possible in human life. Nothing +here 'excites or assuages emotion:' here is no 'magical power of raising +phantastick terrour or wild anxiety.' The events are expected without +solicitude, and are remembered without joy or sorrow. Of the agents we +have no care; we consider not what they are doing, or what they are +suffering; we wish only to know what they have to say." + +But, while we thus pronounce Johnson's failure in the production of +dramatic effect, we will not withhold our tribute of admiration from +Irene, as a moral piece. For, although a remark of Fox's on an +unpublished tragedy of Burke's, that it was rather rhetorical than +poetical, may be applied to the work under consideration; still it +abounds, throughout, with the most elevated and dignified lessons of +morality and virtue. The address of Demetrius to the aged Cali, on the +dangers of procrastination[e]; Aspasia's reprobation of Irene's +meditated apostasy[f]; and the allusive panegyric on the British +constitution[g], may be enumerated, as examples of its excellence in +sentiment and diction. + +Lastly, we may consider Irene, as one other illustrious proof, that the +most strict adherence to the far-famed unities, the most harmonious +versification, and the most correct philosophy, will not vie with a +single and simple touch of nature, expressed in simple and artless +language. "But how rich in reputation must that author be, who can spare +_an Irene_, and not feel the loss [h]." + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Rambler, No. 24, and note. +[b] Boswell's Life, i. +[c] Murphy's Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson. +[d] Prologue at the opening of Drury lane theatre, 1747. +[e] Act iii. scene ii. "To-morrow's action!" &c. +[f] Act iii. scene viii. "Reflect, that life and death," &c. +[g] Act i. scene ii. "If there be any land, as fame reports," &c. +[h] Dr. Young's remark on Addison's Cato. See his Conjectures on + Original Composition. Works, vol. v. + +PROLOGUE. + +Ye glitt'ring train, whom lace and velvet bless, +Suspend the soft solicitudes of dress! +From grov'ling bus'ness and superfluous care, +Ye sons of avarice, a moment spare! +Vot'ries of fame, and worshippers of power, +Dismiss the pleasing phantoms for an hour! +Our daring bard, with spirit unconfin'd, +Spreads wide the mighty moral for mankind. +Learn here, how heaven supports the virtuous mind, +Daring, though calm; and vig'rous, though resign'd; +Learn here, what anguish racks the guilty breast, +In pow'r dependant, in success depress'd. +Learn here, that peace from innocence must flow; +All else is empty sound, and idle show. + +If truths, like these, with pleasing language join; +Ennobled, yet unchang'd, if nature shine; +If no wild draught depart from reason's rules; +Nor gods his heroes, nor his lovers fools; +Intriguing wits! his artless plot forgive; +And spare him, beauties! though his lovers live. + +Be this, at least, his praise, be this his pride; +To force applause, no modern arts are try'd. +Should partial catcals all his hopes confound, +He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound. +Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit, +He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit; +No snares, to captivate the judgment, spreads, +Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your heads. +Unmov'd, though witlings sneer, and rivals rail, +Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail, +He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain, +With merit needless, and without it vain. +In reason, nature, truth, he dares to trust: +Ye fops, be silent: and, ye wits, be just! + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + MEN. + +MAHOMET, Emperour of the Turks, Mr. BARRY. + +CALI BASSA, First vizier, Mr. BERRY. + +MUSTAPHA, A Turkish aga, Mr. SOWDEN. + +ABDALLA, An officer, Mr. HAVARD. + +HASAN, \ / Mr. USHER, + Turkish captains, +CARAZA, / \ Mr. BURTON. + +DEMETRIUS, \ / Mr. GARRICK, + Greek noblemen, +LEONTIUS, / \ MR. BLAKES. + +MURZA, An eunuch, Mr. KING. + + WOMEN. + +ASPASIA, \ / Mrs. GIBBER, + Greek ladies, +IRENE, / \ Mrs. PRITCHARD. + +Attendants on IRENE. + + +ACT I.--SCENE I. + +DEMETRIUS _and_ LEONTIUS, _in Turkish habits_. + + LEONTIUS. +And, is it thus Demetrius meets his friend, +Hid in the mean disguise of Turkish robes, +With servile secrecy to lurk in shades, +And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans? + + DEMETRIUS. +Till breathless fury rested from destruction, +These groans were fatal, these disguises vain: +But, now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd +Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder, +No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood; +And weary cruelty remits her tortures. + + LEONTIUS. +Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of transient hope, +No soothing interval of peaceful sorrow: +The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest; +--The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless, +The last corruption of degen'rate man! +Urg'd by th' imperious soldiers' fierce command, +The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns, +Pregnant with stores, that India's mines might envy, +Th' accumulated wealth of toiling ages. + + DEMETRIUS. +That wealth, too sacred for their country's use! +That wealth, too pleasing to be lost for freedom! +That wealth, which, granted to their weeping prince, +Had rang'd embattled nations at our gates! +But, thus reserv'd to lure the wolves of Turkey, +Adds shame to grief, and infamy to ruin. +Lamenting av'rice, now too late, discovers +Her own neglected in the publick safety. + + LEONTIUS. +Reproach not misery.--The sons of Greece, +Ill fated race! so oft besieg'd in vain, +With false security beheld invasion. +Why should they fear?--That pow'r that kindly spreads +The clouds, a signal of impending show'rs, +To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade, +Beheld without concern expiring Greece; +And not one prodigy foretold our fate. + + DEMETRIUS. +A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it: +A feeble government, eluded laws, +A factious populace, luxurious nobles, +And all the maladies of sinking states. +When publick villany, too strong for justice, +Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin, +Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders, +Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard? +When some neglected fabrick nods beneath +The weight of years, and totters to the tempest, +Must heav'n despatch the messengers of light, +Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall? + + LEONTIUS. +Well might the weakness of our empire sink +Before such foes of more than human force: +Some pow'r invisible, from heav'n or hell, +Conducts their armies, and asserts their cause. + + DEMETRIUS. +And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought +Beyond the pow'r of constancy and courage? +Did unresisted lightning aid their cannon? +Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts? +'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Leontius, +That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs. + + LEONTIUS. +Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compassion. +Each night, protected by the friendly darkness, +Quitting my close retreat, I range the city, +And, weeping, kiss the venerable ruins; +With silent pangs, I view the tow'ring domes, +Sacred to pray'r; and wander through the streets, +Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty, +And jollity maintain'd eternal revels-- + + DEMETRIUS. +--How chang'd, alas!--Now ghastly desolation, +In triumph, sits upon our shatter'd spires; +Now superstition, ignorance, and errour, +Usurp our temples, and profane our altars. + + LEONTIUS. +From ev'ry palace bursts a mingled clamour, +The dreadful dissonance of barb'rous triumph, +Shrieks of affright, and waitings of distress. +Oft when the cries of violated beauty +Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast, +I felt thy pains, and trembled for Aspasia. + + DEMETRIUS. +Aspasia!--spare that lov'd, that mournful name: +Dear, hapless maid--tempestuous grief o'erbears +My reasoning pow'rs--Dear, hapless, lost Aspasia! + + LEONTIUS. +Suspend the thought. + + DEMETRIUS. + All thought on her is madness; +Yet let me think--I see the helpless maid; +Behold the monsters gaze with savage rapture, +Behold how lust and rapine struggle round her! + + LEONTIUS. +Awake, Demetrius, from this dismal dream; +Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; +Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; +Think on the sudden change of human scenes; +Think on the various accidents of war; +Think on the mighty pow'r of awful virtue; +Think on that providence that guards the good. + + DEMETRIUS. +O providence! extend thy care to me; +For courage droops, unequal to the combat; +And weak philosophy denies her succours. +Sure, some kind sabre in the heat of battle, +Ere yet the foe found leisure to be cruel, +Dismiss'd her to the sky. + + LEONTIUS. + Some virgin martyr, +Perhaps, enamour'd of resembling virtue, +With gentle hand, restrain'd the streams of life, +And snatch'd her timely from her country's fate. + + DEMETRIUS. +From those bright regions of eternal day, +Where now thou shin'st among thy fellow-saints, +Array'd in purer light, look down on me: +In pleasing visions and assuasive dreams, +O! sooth my soul, and teach me how to lose thee. + + LEONTIUS. +Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius: +I come obedient to thy friendly summons, +And hop'd to share thy counsels, not thy sorrows: +While thus we mourn the fortune of Aspasia, +To what are we reserv'd? + + DEMETRIUS. + To what I know not: +But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; +If happiness can be, without Aspasia. + + LEONTIUS. +But whence this new-sprung hope? + + DEMETRIUS. + From Cali bassa, +The chief, whose wisdom guides the Turkish counsels. +He, tir'd of slav'ry, though the highest slave, +Projects, at once, our freedom and his own; +And bids us, thus disguis'd, await him here. + + LEONTIUS. +Can he restore the state he could not save? +In vain, when Turkey's troops assail'd our walls, +His kind intelligence betray'd their measures; +Their arms prevail'd, though Cali was our friend. + + DEMETRIUS. +When the tenth sun had set upon our sorrows, +At midnight's private hour, a voice unknown +Sounds in my sleeping ear, 'Awake, Demetrius, +Awake, and follow me to better fortunes.' +Surpris'd I start, and bless the happy dream; +Then, rousing, know the fiery chief Abdalla, +Whose quick impatience seiz'd my doubtful hand, +And led me to the shore where Cali stood, +Pensive, and list'ning to the beating surge. +There, in soft hints, and in ambiguous phrase, +With all the diffidence of long experience, +That oft had practis'd fraud, and oft detected, +The vet'ran courtier half reveal'd his project. +By his command, equipp'd for speedy flight, +Deep in a winding creek a galley lies, +Mann'd with the bravest of our fellow-captives, +Selected by my care, a hardy band, +That long to hail thee chief. + + LEONTIUS. + But what avails +So small a force? or, why should Cali fly? +Or, how can Call's flight restore our country? + + DEMETRIUS. +Reserve these questions for a safer hour; +Or hear himself, for see the bassa comes. + + +SCENE II. + +DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI. + + CALI. +Now summon all thy soul, illustrious Christian! +Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee: +The courtier's policy, the sage's firmness, +The warriour's ardour, and the patriot's zeal. +If, chasing past events with vain pursuit, +Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being, +A single thought now rove, recall it home.-- +But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause, +The cause of liberty, the cause of nations? + + DEMETRIUS. +Observe him closely, with a statesman's eye, +Thou, that hast long perus'd the draughts of nature, +And know'st the characters of vice and virtue, +Left by the hand of heav'n on human clay. + +CALI. +His mien is lofty, his demeanour great; +Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air; +Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes. +Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen, +But cautious age suspects the flatt'ring form, +And only credits what experience tells. +Has silence press'd her seal upon his lips? +Does adamantine faith invest his heart? +Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown? +Will he not melt before ambition's fire? +Will he not soften in a friend's embrace? +Or flow dissolving in a woman's tears? + + DEMETRIUS. +Sooner the trembling leaves shall find a voice, +And tell the secrets of their conscious walks; +Sooner the breeze shall catch the flying sounds, +And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason. +Your slaughter'd multitudes, that swell the shore +With monuments of death, proclaim his courage; +Virtue and liberty engross his soul, +And leave no place for perfidy, or fear. + + LEONTIUS. +I scorn a trust unwillingly repos'd; +Demetrius will not lead me to dishonour; +Consult in private, call me, when your scheme +Is ripe for action, and demands the sword. [_Going_. + + DEMETRIUS. +Leontius, stay. + + CALI. +Forgive an old man's weakness, +And share the deepest secrets of my soul, +My wrongs, my fears, my motives, my designs.-- +When unsuccessful wars, and civil factions +Embroil'd the Turkish state, our sultan's father, +Great Amurath, at my request, forsook +The cloister's ease, resum'd the tott'ring throne, +And snatch'd the reins of abdicated pow'r +From giddy Mahomet's unskilful hand. +This fir'd the youthful king's ambitious breast: +He murmurs vengeance, at the name of Cali, +And dooms my rash fidelity to ruin. + + DEMETRIUS. +Unhappy lot of all that shine in courts, +For forc'd compliance, or for zealous virtue, +Still odious to the monarch, or the people. + + CALI. +Such are the woes, when arbitrary pow'r +And lawless passion hold the sword of justice. +If there be any land, as fame reports, +Where common laws restrain the prince and subject, +A happy land, where circulating pow'r +Flows through each member of th' embodied state; +Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, +Her grateful sons shine bright with every virtue; +Untainted with the lust of innovation, +Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule +Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature +That links the jarring elements in peace. + + LEONTIUS. +But say, great bassa, why the sultan's anger, +Burning in vain, delays the stroke of death? + + CALI. +Young, and unsettled in his father's kingdoms, +Fierce as he was, he dreaded to destroy +The empire's darling, and the soldier's boast; +But now confirm'd, and swelling with his conquests, +Secure, he tramples my declining fame, +Frowns unrestrain'd, and dooms me with his eyes. + + DEMETRIUS. +What can reverse thy doom? + + CALI. + The tyrant's death. + + DEMETRIUS. +But Greece is still forgot. + + CALI. + On Asia's coast, +Which lately bless'd my gentle government, +Soon as the sultan's unexpected fate +Fills all th' astonish'd empire with confusion, +My policy shall raise an easy throne; +The Turkish pow'rs from Europe shall retreat, +And harass Greece no more with wasteful war. +A galley mann'd with Greeks, thy charge, Leontius, +Attends to waft us to repose and safety. + + DEMETRIUS. +That vessel, if observ'd, alarms the court, +And gives a thousand fatal questions birth: +Why stor'd for flight? and why prepar'd by Cali? + + CALI. +This hour I'll beg, with unsuspecting face, +Leave to perform my pilgrimage to Mecca; +Which granted, hides my purpose from the world, +And, though refus'd, conceals it from the sultan. + + LEONTIUS. +How can a single hand attempt a life, +Which armies guard, and citadels enclose? + + CALI. +Forgetful of command, with captive beauties, +Far from his troops, he toys his hours away. +A roving soldier seiz'd, in Sophia's temple, +A virgin, shining with distinguish'd charms, +And brought his beauteous plunder to the sultan-- + + DEMETRIUS. +In Sophia's temple!--What alarm!--Proceed. + + CALI. +The sultan gaz'd, he wonder'd, and he lov'd: +In passion lost, he bade the conqu'ring fair +Renounce her faith, and be the queen of Turkey. +The pious maid, with modest indignation, +Threw back the glitt'ring bribe. + + DEMETRIUS. + Celestial goodness! +It must, it must be she;--her name? + + CALI. + Aspasia. + + DEMETRIUS. +What hopes, what terrours, rush upon my soul! +O lead me quickly to the scene of fate; +Break through the politician's tedious forms; +Aspasia calls me, let me fly to save her. + + LEONTIUS. +Did Mahomet reproach, or praise her virtue? + + CALI. +His offers, oft repeated, still refus'd, +At length rekindled his accustomed fury, +And chang'd th' endearing smile, and am'rous whisper +To threats of torture, death, and violation. + + DEMETRIUS. +These tedious narratives of frozen age +Distract my soul;--despatch thy ling'ring tale; +Say, did a voice from heav'n restrain the tyrant? +Did interposing angels guard her from him? + + CALI. +Just in the moment of impending fate, +Another plund'rer brought the bright Irene; +Of equal beauty, but of softer mien, +Fear in her eye, submission on her tongue, +Her mournful charms attracted his regards, +Disarm'd his rage, and, in repeated visits, +Gain'd all his heart; at length, his eager love +To her transferr'd the offer of a crown, + + LEONTIUS. +Nor found again the bright temptation fail? + + CALI. +Trembling to grant, nor daring to refuse, +While heav'n and Mahomet divide her fears, +With coy caresses and with pleasing wiles +She feeds his hopes, and sooths him to delay. +For her, repose is banish'd from the night, +And bus'ness from the day: in her apartments +He lives-- + + LEONTIUS. + And there must fall. + + CALI. +But yet, th' attempt +Is hazardous. + + LEONTIUS. + Forbear to speak of hazards; +What has the wretch, that has surviv'd his country, +His friends, his liberty, to hazard? + + CALI. + Life. + + DEMETRIUS. +Th' inestimable privilege of breathing! +Important hazard! What's that airy bubble, +When weigh'd with Greece, with virtue, with Aspasia?-- +A floating atom, dust that falls, unheeded, +Into the adverse scale, nor shakes the balance. + + CALI. +At least, this day be calm--If we succeed, +Aspasia's thine, and all thy life is rapture.-- +See! Mustapha, the tyrant's minion, comes; +Invest Leontius with his new command; +And wait Abdalla's unsuspected visits: +Remember freedom, glory, Greece, and love. +[_Exeunt_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + MUSTAPHA. +By what enchantment does this lovely Greek +Hold in her chains the captivated sultan? +He tires his fav'rites with Irene's praise, +And seeks the shades to muse upon Irene; +Irene steals, unheeded, from his tongue, +And mingles, unperceiv'd, with ev'ry thought. + + CALI. +Why should the sultan shun the joys of beauty, +Or arm his breast against the force of love? +Love, that with sweet vicissitude relieves +The warriour's labours and the monarch's cares. +But, will she yet receive the faith of Mecca? + + MUSTAPHA. +Those pow'rful tyrants of the female breast, +Fear and ambition, urge her to compliance; +Dress'd in each charm of gay magnificence, +Alluring grandeur courts her to his arms, +Religion calls her from the wish'd embrace, +Paints future joys, and points to distant glories. + + CALI. +Soon will th' unequal contest be decided. +Prospects, obscur'd by distance, faintly strike; +Each pleasure brightens, at its near approach, +And ev'ry danger shocks with double horrour. + + MUSTAPHA. +How shall I scorn the beautiful apostate! +How will the bright Aspasia shine above her! + + CALI. +Should she, for proselytes are always zealous, +With pious warmth receive our prophet's law-- + + MUSTAPHA. +Heav'n will contemn the mercenary fervour, +Which love of greatness, not of truth, inflames. + + CALI. +Cease, cease thy censures; for the sultan comes +Alone, with am'rous haste to seek his love. + + +SCENE IV. + +MAHOMET, CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + CALI. +Hail! terrour of the monarchs of the world; +Unshaken be thy throne, as earth's firm base; +Live, till the sun forgets to dart his beams, +And weary planets loiter in their courses! + + MAHOMET. +But, Cali, let Irene share thy prayers; +For what is length of days, without Irene? +I come from empty noise, and tasteless pomp, +From crowds, that hide a monarch from himself, +To prove the sweets of privacy and friendship, +And dwell upon the beauties of Irene. + + CALI. +O may her beauties last, unchang'd by time, +As those that bless the mansions of the good! + + MAHOMET. +Each realm, where beauty turns the graceful shape, +Swells the fair breast, or animates the glance, +Adorns my palace with its brightest virgins; +Yet, unacquainted with these soft emotions, +I walk'd superiour through the blaze of charms, +Prais'd without rapture, left without regret. +Why rove I now, when absent from my fair, +From solitude to crowds, from crowds to solitude, +Still restless, till I clasp the lovely maid, +And ease my loaded soul upon her bosom? + + MUSTAPHA. +Forgive, great sultan, that intrusive duty +Inquires the final doom of Menodorus, +The Grecian counsellor. + + MAHOMET. + Go, see him die; +His martial rhet'rick taught the Greeks resistance; +Had they prevail'd, I ne'er had known Irene. + +[_Exit_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE V. + +MAHOMET, CALI. + + MAHOMET. +Remote from tumult, in th' adjoining palace, +Thy care shall guard this treasure of my soul: +There let Aspasia, since my fair entreats it, +With converse chase the melancholy moments. +Sure, chill'd with sixty winter camps, thy blood, +At sight of female charms, will glow no more. + + CALI. +These years, unconquer'd Mahomet, demand +Desires more pure, and other cares than love. +Long have I wish'd, before our prophet's tomb, +To pour my pray'rs for thy successful reign, +To quit the tumults of the noisy camp, +And sink into the silent grave in peace. + + MAHOMET. +What! think of peace, while haughty Scanderbeg, +Elate with conquest, in his native mountains, +Prowls o'er the wealthy spoils of bleeding Turkey! +While fair Hungaria's unexhausted valleys +Pour forth their legions; and the roaring Danube +Rolls half his floods, unheard, through shouting camps! +Nor could'st thou more support a life of sloth +Than Amurath-- + + CALI. + Still, full of Amurath! [_Aside_. + + MAHOMET. +Than Amurath, accustom'd to command, +Could bear his son upon the Turkish throne. + + CALI. +This pilgrimage our lawgiver ordain'd-- + + MAHOMET. +For those, who could not please by nobler service.-- +Our warlike prophet loves an active faith. +The holy flame of enterprising virtue +Mocks the dull vows of solitude and penance, +And scorns the lazy hermit's cheap devotion. +Shine thou, distinguish'd by superiour merit; +With wonted zeal pursue the task of war, +Till ev'ry nation reverence the koran, +And ev'ry suppliant lift his eyes to Mecca. + + CALI. +This regal confidence, this pious ardour, +Let prudence moderate, though not suppress. +Is not each realm, that smiles with kinder suns, +Or boasts a happier soil, already thine? +Extended empire, like expanded gold, +Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour. + + MAHOMET. +Preach thy dull politicks to vulgar kings, +Thou know'st not yet thy master's future greatness, +His vast designs, his plans of boundless pow'r. + When ev'ry storm in my domain shall roar, + When ev'ry wave shall beat a Turkish shore; + Then, Cali, shall the toils of battle cease, + Then dream of pray'r, and pilgrimage, and peace. + [_Exeunt_. + + +ACT II.--SCENE I. +ASPASIA, IRENE. + + IRENE. +Aspasia, yet pursue the sacred theme; +Exhaust the stores of pious eloquence, +And teach me to repel the sultan's passion. +Still, at Aspasia's voice, a sudden rapture +Exalts my soul, and fortifies my heart; +The glitt'ring vanities of empty greatness, +The hopes and fears, the joys and pains of life, +Dissolve in air, and vanish into nothing. + + ASPASIA. +Let nobler hopes and juster fears succeed, +And bar the passes of Irene's mind +Against returning guilt. + + IRENE. +When thou art absent, +Death rises to my view, with all his terrours; +Then visions, horrid as a murd'rer's dreams, +Chill my resolves, and blast my blooming virtue: +Stern torture shakes his bloody scourge before me, +And anguish gnashes on the fatal wheel. + + ASPASIA. +Since fear predominates in ev'ry thought, +And sways thy breast with absolute dominion, +Think on th' insulting scorn, the conscious pangs, +The future mis'ries, that wait th' apostate; +So shall timidity assist thy reason, +And wisdom into virtue turn thy frailty. + + IRENE. +Will not that pow'r, that form'd the heart of woman, +And wove the feeble texture of her nerves, +Forgive those fears that shake the tender frame? + + ASPASIA. +The weakness we lament, ourselves create; +Instructed, from our infant years, to court, +With counterfeited fears, the aid of man, +We learn to shudder at the rustling breeze, +Start at the light, and tremble in the dark; +Till, affectation ripening to belief, +And folly, frighted at her own chimeras, +Habitual cowardice usurps the soul. + + IRENE. +Not all, like thee, can brave the shocks of fate. +Thy soul, by nature great, enlarg'd by knowledge, +Soars unincumber'd with our idle cares, +And all Aspasia, but her beauty's man. + + ASPASIA. +Each gen'rous sentiment is thine, Demetrius, +Whose soul, perhaps, yet mindful of Aspasia, +Now hovers o'er this melancholy shade, +Well pleas'd to find thy precepts not forgotten. +Oh! could the grave restore the pious hero, +Soon would his art or valour set us free, +And bear us far from servitude and crimes. + + IRENE. +He yet may live. + + ASPASIA. + Alas! delusive dream! +Too well I know him; his immoderate courage, +Th' impetuous sallies of excessive virtue, +Too strong for love, have hurried him on death. + + +SCENE II. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, CALI, ABDALLA. + +CALI _to_ ABDALLA, _as they advance_. +Behold our future sultaness, Abdalla;-- +Let artful flatt'ry now, to lull suspicion, +Glide, through Irene, to the sultan's ear. +Would'st thou subdue th' obdurate cannibal +To tender friendship, praise him to his mistress. + +[_To_ IRENE.] + +Well may those eyes, that view these heav'nly charms, +Reject the daughters of contending kings; +For what are pompous titles, proud alliance, +Empire or wealth, to excellence like thine? + + ABDALLA. +Receive th' impatient sultan to thy arms; +And may a long posterity of monarchs, +The pride and terrour of succeeding days, +Rise from the happy bed; and future queens +Diffuse Irene's beauty through the world! + + IRENE. +Can Mahomet's imperial hand descend +To clasp a slave? or can a soul, like mine, +Unus'd to pow'r, and form'd for humbler scenes, +Support the splendid miseries of greatness? + + CALI. +No regal pageant, deck'd with casual honours, +Scorn'd by his subjects, trampled by his foes; +No feeble tyrant of a petty state, +Courts thee to shake on a dependant throne; +Born to command, as thou to charm mankind, +The sultan from himself derives his greatness. +Observe, bright maid, as his resistless voice +Drives on the tempest of destructive war, +How nation after nation falls before him. + + ABDALLA. +At his dread name the distant mountains shake +Their cloudy summits, and the sons of fierceness, +That range uncivilized from rock to rock, +Distrust th' eternal fortresses of nature, +And wish their gloomy caverns more obscure. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear this lavish pomp of dreadful praise; +The horrid images of war and slaughter +Renew our sorrows, and awake our fears. + + ABDALLA. +Cali, methinks yon waving trees afford +A doubtful glimpse of our approaching friends; +Just as I mark'd them, they forsook the shore, +And turn'd their hasty steps towards the garden. + + CALI. +Conduct these queens, Abdalla, to the palace: +Such heav'nly beauty, form'd for adoration, +The pride of monarchs, the reward of conquest! +Such beauty must not shine to vulgar eyes. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, _solus_. + +How heav'n, in scorn of human arrogance, +Commits to trivial chance the fate of nations! +While, with incessant thought, laborious man +Extends his mighty schemes of wealth and pow'r, +And towers and triumphs in ideal greatness; +Some accidental gust of opposition +Blasts all the beauties of his new creation, +O'erturns the fabrick of presumptuous reason, +And whelms the swelling architect beneath it. +Had not the breeze untwin'd the meeting boughs, +And, through the parted shade, disclos'd the Greeks, +Th' important hour had pass'd, unheeded, by, +In all the sweet oblivion of delight, +In all the fopperies of meeting lovers; +In sighs and tears, in transports and embraces, +In soft complaints, and idle protestations. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS. + + CALI. +Could omens fright the resolute and wise, +Well might we fear impending disappointments. + + LEONTIUS. +Your artful suit, your monarch's fierce denial, +The cruel doom of hapless Menodorus-- + + DEMETRIUS. +And your new charge, that dear, that heav'nly maid-- + + LEONTIUS. +All this we know already from Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such slight defeats but animate the brave +To stronger efforts and maturer counsels. + + CALI. +My doom confirm'd establishes my purpose. +Calmly he heard, till Amurath's resumption +Rose to his thought, and set his soul on fire: +When from his lips the fatal name burst out, +A sudden pause th' imperfect sense suspended, +Like the dread stillness of condensing storms. + + DEMETRIUS. +The loudest cries of nature urge us forward; +Despotick rage pursues the life of Cali; +His groaning country claims Leontius' aid; +And yet another voice, forgive me, Greece, +The pow'rful voice of love, inflames Demetrius; +Each ling'ring hour alarms me for Aspasia. + + CALI. +What passions reign among thy crew, Leontius? +Does cheerless diffidence oppress their hearts? +Or sprightly hope exalt their kindling spirits? +Do they, with pain, repress the struggling shout, +And listen eager to the rising wind? + + LEONTIUS. +All there is hope, and gaiety, and courage, +No cloudy doubts, or languishing delays; +Ere I could range them on the crowded deck, +At once a hundred voices thunder'd round me, +And ev'ry voice was liberty and Greece. + + DEMETRIUS. +Swift let us rush upon the careless tyrant, +Nor give him leisure for another crime. + + LEONTIUS. +Then let us now resolve, nor idly waste +Another hour in dull deliberation. + + CALI. +But see, where destin'd to protract our counsels, +Comes Mustapha.--Your Turkish robes conceal you. +Retire with speed, while I prepare to meet him +With artificial smiles, and seeming friendship. + + +SCENE V. + +CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + CALI. +I see the gloom, that low'rs upon thy brow; +These days of love and pleasure charm not thee; +Too slow these gentle constellations roll; +Thou long'st for stars, that frown on human kind, +And scatter discord from their baleful beams. + + MUSTAPHA. +How blest art thou, still jocund and serene, +Beneath the load of business, and of years! + + CALI. +Sure, by some wond'rous sympathy of souls, +My heart still beats responsive to the sultan's; +I share, by secret instinct, all his joys, +And feel no sorrow, while my sov'reign smiles. + + MUSTAPHA. +The sultan comes, impatient for his love; +Conduct her hither; let no rude intrusion +Molest these private walks, or care invade +These hours, assign'd to pleasure and Irene. + + +SCENE VI. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA. + + MAHOMET. +Now, Mustapha, pursue thy tale of horrour. +Has treason's dire infection reach'd my palace? +Can Cali dare the stroke of heav'nly justice, +In the dark precincts of the gaping grave, +And load with perjuries his parting soul? +Was it for this, that, sick'ning in Epirus, +My father call'd me to his couch of death, +Join'd Cali's hand to mine, and falt'ring cried, +Restrain the fervour of impetuous youth +With venerable Cali's faithful counsels? +Are these the counsels, this the faith of Cali? +Were all our favours lavish'd on a villain? +Confest?-- + + MUSTAPHA. + Confest by dying Menodorus. +In his last agonies, the gasping coward, +Amidst the tortures of the burning steel, +Still fond of life, groan'd out the dreadful secret, +Held forth this fatal scroll, then sunk to nothing. + + MAHOMET. _examining the paper_. +His correspondence with our foes of Greece! +His hand! his seal! The secrets of my soul, +Conceal'd from all but him! All, all conspire +To banish doubt, and brand him for a villain! +Our schemes for ever cross'd, our mines discover'd, +Betray'd some traitor lurking near my bosom. +Oft have I rag'd, when their wide-wasting cannon +Lay pointed at our batt'ries yet unform'd, +And broke the meditated lines of war. +Detested Cali, too, with artful wonder, +Would shake his wily head, and closely whisper, +Beware of Mustapha, beware of treason. + + MUSTAPHA. +The faith of Mustapha disdains suspicion; +But yet, great emperour, beware of treason; +Th' insidious bassa, fir'd by disappointment-- + + MAHOMET. +Shall feel the vengeance of an injur'd king. +Go, seize him, load him with reproachful chains; +Before th' assembled troops, proclaim his crimes; +Then leave him, stretch'd upon the ling'ring rack, +Amidst the camp to howl his life away. + + MUSTAPHA. +Should we, before the troops, proclaim his crimes, +I dread his arts of seeming innocence, +His bland address, and sorcery of tongue; +And, should he fall, unheard, by sudden justice, +Th' adoring soldiers would revenge their idol. + + MAHOMET. +Cali, this day, with hypocritick zeal, +Implor'd my leave to visit Mecca's temple; +Struck with the wonder of a statesman's goodness, +I rais'd his thoughts to more sublime devotion. +Now let him go, pursu'd by silent wrath, +Meet unexpected daggers in his way, +And, in some distant land, obscurely die. + + MUSTAPHA. +There will his boundless wealth, the spoil of Asia, +Heap'd by your father's ill-plac'd bounties on him, +Disperse rebellion through the eastern world; +Bribe to his cause, and list beneath his banners, +Arabia's roving troops, the sons of swiftness, +And arm the Persian heretick against thee; +There shall he waste thy frontiers, check thy conquests, +And, though at length subdued, elude thy vengeance. + + MAHOMET. +Elude my vengeance! No--My troops shall range +Th' eternal snows that freeze beyond Maeotis, +And Africk's torrid sands, in search of Cali. +Should the fierce north, upon his frozen wings, +Bear him aloft, above the wond'ring clouds, +And seat him in the pleiads' golden chariots, +Thence shall my fury drag him down to tortures; +Wherever guilt can fly, revenge can follow. + + MUSTAPHA. +Wilt thou dismiss the savage from the toils, +Only to hunt him round the ravag'd world? + + MAHOMET. +Suspend his sentence--Empire and Irene +Claim my divided soul. This wretch, unworthy +To mix with nobler cares, I'll throw aside +For idle hours, and crush him at my leisure. + + MUSTAPHA. +Let not th' unbounded greatness of his mind +Betray my king to negligence of danger. +Perhaps, the clouds of dark conspiracy +Now roll, full fraught with thunder, o'er your head. +Twice, since the morning rose, I saw the bassa, +Like a fell adder swelling in a brake, +Beneath the covert of this verdant arch, +In private conference; beside him stood +Two men unknown, the partners of his bosom; +I mark'd them well, and trac'd in either face +The gloomy resolution, horrid greatness, +And stern composure, of despairing heroes; +And, to confirm my thoughts, at sight of me, +As blasted by my presence, they withdrew, +With all the speed of terrour and of guilt. + + MAHOMET. +The strong emotions of my troubled soul +Allow no pause for art or for contrivance; +And dark perplexity distracts my counsels. +Do thou resolve: for, see, Irene comes! +At her approach each ruder gust of thought +Sinks, like the sighing of a tempest spent, +And gales of softer passion fan my bosom. +[Cali _enters with_ Irene, _and exit [Transcriber's note: sic] with_ +Mustapha. + + +SCENE VII. + +MAHOMET, IRENE. + + MAHOMET. +Wilt thou descend, fair daughter of perfection, +To hear my vows, and give mankind a queen? +Ah! cease, Irene, cease those flowing sorrows, +That melt a heart impregnable till now, +And turn thy thoughts, henceforth, to love and empire. +How will the matchless beauties of Irene, +Thus bright in tears, thus amiable in ruin, +With all the graceful pride of greatness heighten'd, +Amidst the blaze of jewels and of gold, +Adorn a throne, and dignify dominion! + + IRENE. +Why all this glare of splendid eloquence, +To paint the pageantries of guilty state? +Must I, for these, renounce the hope of heav'n, +Immortal crowns, and fulness of enjoyment? + + MAHOMET. +Vain raptures all--For your inferiour natures, +Form'd to delight, and happy by delighting, +Heav'n has reserv'd no future paradise, +But bids you rove the paths of bliss, secure +Of total death, and careless of hereafter; +While heaven's high minister, whose awful volume +Records each act, each thought of sov'reign man, +Surveys your plays with inattentive glance, +And leaves the lovely trifler unregarded. + + IRENE. +Why then has nature's vain munificence +Profusely pour'd her bounties upon woman? +Whence, then, those charms thy tongue has deign'd to flatter, +That air resistless, and enchanting blush, +Unless the beauteous fabrick was design'd +A habitation for a fairer soul? + + MAHOMET. +Too high, bright maid, thou rat'st exteriour grace: +Not always do the fairest flow'rs diffuse +The richest odours, nor the speckled shells +Conceal the gem; let female arrogance +Observe the feather'd wand'rers of the sky; +With purple varied, and bedrop'd with gold, +They prune the wing, and spread the glossy plumes, +Ordain'd, like you, to flutter and to shine, +And cheer the weary passenger with musick. + + IRENE. +Mean as we are, this tyrant of the world +Implores our smiles, and trembles at our feet. +Whence flow the hopes and fears, despair and rapture, +Whence all the bliss and agonies of love? + + MAHOMET. +Why, when the balm of sleep descends on man, +Do gay delusions, wand'ring o'er the brain, +Sooth the delighted soul with empty bliss? +To want, give affluence? and to slav'ry, freedom? +Such are love's joys, the lenitives of life, +A fancy'd treasure, and a waking dream. + + IRENE. +Then let me once, in honour of our sex, +Assume the boastful arrogance of man. +Th' attractive softness, and th' endearing smile, +And pow'rful glance, 'tis granted, are our own; +Nor has impartial nature's frugal hand +Exhausted all her nobler gifts on you. +Do not we share the comprehensive thought, +Th' enlivening wit, the penetrating reason? +Beats not the female breast with gen'rous passions, +The thirst of empire, and the love of glory? + + MAHOMET. +Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine; +Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face. +I thought (forgive, my fair,) the noblest aim, +The strongest effort of a female soul, +Was but to choose the graces of the day; +To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll, +Dispose the colours of the flowing robe, +And add new roses to the faded cheek. +Will it not charm a mind, like thine, exalted, +To shine, the goddess of applauding nations; +To scatter happiness and plenty round thee, +To bid the prostrate captive rise and live, +To see new cities tow'r, at thy command, +And blasted kingdoms flourish, at thy smile? + + IRENE. +Charm'd with the thought of blessing human kind, +Too calm I listen to the flatt'ring sounds. + + MAHOMET. +O! seize the power to bless--Irene's nod +Shall break the fetters of the groaning Christian; +Greece, in her lovely patroness secure, +Shall mourn no more her plunder'd palaces. + + IRENE. +Forbear--O! do not urge me to my ruin! + + MAHOMET. +To state and pow'r I court thee, not to ruin: +Smile on my wishes, and command the globe. +Security shall spread her shield before thee, +And love infold thee with his downy wings. + If greatness please thee, mount th' imperial seat; + If pleasure charm thee, view this soft retreat; + Here ev'ry warbler of the sky shall sing; + Here ev'ry fragrance breathe of ev'ry spring: + To deck these bow'rs each region shall combine, + And e'en our prophet's gardens envy thine: + Empire and love shall share the blissful day, + And varied life steal, unperceiv'd, away. + +[_Exeunt_. + + +ACT III.--SCENE I. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + +[CALI _enters, with a discontented air; to him enters_ ABDALLA.] + + CALI. +Is this the fierce conspirator, Abdalla? +Is this the restless diligence of treason? +Where hast thou linger'd, while th' incumber'd hours +Fly, lab'ring with the fate of future nations, +And hungry slaughter scents imperial blood? + + ABDALLA. +Important cares detain'd me from your counsels. + + CALI. +Some petty passion! some domestick trifle! +Some vain amusement of a vacant soul! +A weeping wife, perhaps, or dying friend, +Hung on your neck, and hinder'd your departure. +Is this a time for softness or for sorrow? +Unprofitable, peaceful, female virtues! +When eager vengeance shows a naked foe, +And kind ambition points the way to greatness. + + ABDALLA. +Must then ambition's votaries infringe +The laws of kindness, break the bonds of nature, +And quit the names of brother, friend, and father? + + CALI. +This sov'reign passion, scornful of restraint, +E'en from the birth, affects supreme command, +Swells in the breast, and, with resistless force, +O'erbears each gentler motion of the mind: +As, when a deluge overspreads the plains, +The wand'ring rivulet, and silver lake, +Mix undistinguish'd with the gen'ral roar. + + ABDALLA. +Yet can ambition, in Abdalla's breast, +Claim but the second place: there mighty love +Has fix'd his hopes, inquietudes, and fears, +His glowing wishes, and his jealous pangs. + + CALI. +Love is, indeed, the privilege of youth; +Yet, on a day like this, when expectation +Pants for the dread event--But let us reason-- + + ABDALLA. +Hast thou grown old, amidst the crowd of courts, +And turn'd th' instructive page of human life, +To cant, at last, of reason to a lover? +Such ill-tim'd gravity, such serious folly, +Might well befit the solitary student, +Th' unpractis'd dervis, or sequester'd faquir. +Know'st thou not yet, when love invades the soul, +That all her faculties receive his chains? +That reason gives her sceptre to his hand, +Or only struggles to be more enslav'd? +Aspasia, who can look upon thy beauties? +Who hear thee speak, and not abandon reason? +Reason! the hoary dotard's dull directress, +That loses all, because she hazards nothing! +Reason! the tim'rous pilot, that, to shun +The rocks of life, for ever flies the port! + + CALI. +But why this sudden warmth? + + ABDALLA. + Because I love: +Because my slighted passion burns in vain! +Why roars the lioness, distress'd by hunger? +Why foam the swelling waves, when tempests rise? +Why shakes the ground, when subterraneous fires +Fierce through the bursting caverns rend their way? + + CALI. +Not till this day, thou saw'st this fatal fair; +Did ever passion make so swift a progress? +Once more reflect; suppress this infant folly. + + ABDALLA. +Gross fires, enkindled by a mortal hand, +Spread, by degrees, and dread th' oppressing stream; +The subtler flames, emitted from the sky, +Flash out at once, with strength above resistance. + + CALI. +How did Aspasia welcome your address? +Did you proclaim this unexpected conquest? +Or pay, with speaking eyes, a lover's homage? + + ABDALLA. +Confounded, aw'd, and lost in admiration, +I gaz'd, I trembled; but I could not speak; +When e'en, as love was breaking off from wonder, +And tender accents quiver'd on my lips, +She mark'd my sparkling eyes, and heaving breast, +And smiling, conscious of her charms, withdrew. + +[_Enter_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius. + + CALI. +Now be, some moments, master of thyself; +Nor let Demetrius know thee for a rival. +Hence! or be calm--To disagree is ruin. + + +SCENE II. + +CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA. + + DEMETRIUS. +When will occasion smile upon our wishes, +And give the tortures of suspense a period? +Still must we linger in uncertain hope? +Still languish in our chains, and dream of freedom, +Like thirsty sailors gazing on the clouds, +Till burning death shoots through their wither'd limbs? + + CALI. +Deliverance is at hand; for Turkey's tyrant, +Sunk in his pleasures, confident and gay, +With all the hero's dull security, +Trusts to my care his mistress and his life, +And laughs, and wantons in the jaws of death. + + LEONTIUS. +So weak is man, when destin'd to destruction!-- +The watchful slumber, and the crafty trust. + + CALI. +At my command, yon iron gates unfold; +At my command, the sentinels retire; +With all the license of authority, +Through bowing slaves, I range the private rooms, +And of to-morrow's action fix the scene. + + DEMETRIUS. +To-morrow's action! Can that hoary wisdom, +Borne down with years, still dote upon to-morrow? +That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy, +The coward, and the fool, condemn'd to lose +An useless life, in waiting for to-morrow, +To gaze with longing eyes upon to-morrow, +Till interposing death destroys the prospect! +Strange! that this gen'ral fraud, from day to day, +Should fill the world with wretches undetected. +The soldier, lab'ring through a winter's march, +Still sees to-morrow drest in robes of triumph; +Still to the lover's long-expecting arms +To-morrow brings the visionary bride. +But thou, too old to bear another cheat, +Learn, that the present hour alone is man's. + + LEONTIUS. +The present hour, with open arms, invites; +Seize the kind fair, and press her to thy bosom. + + DEMETRIUS. +Who knows, ere this important morrow rise, +But fear or mutiny may taint the Greeks? +Who knows, if Mahomet's awaking anger +May spare the fatal bowstring till to-morrow? + + ABDALLA. +Had our first Asian foes but known this ardour, +We still had wander'd on Tartarian hills. +Rouse, Cali; shall the sons of conquer'd Greece +Lead us to danger, and abash their victors? +This night, with all her conscious stars, be witness, +Who merits most, Demetrius or Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Who merits most!--I knew not, we were rivals. + + CALI. +Young man, forbear--the heat of youth, no more-- +Well,--'tis decreed--This night shall fix our fate. +Soon as the veil of ev'ning clouds the sky, +With cautious secrecy, Leontius, steer +Th' appointed vessel to yon shaded bay, +Form'd by this garden jutting on the deep; +There, with your soldiers arm'd, and sails expanded, +Await our coming, equally prepar'd +For speedy flight, or obstinate defence. [Exit Leont. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, ABDALLA, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +Now pause, great bassa, from the thoughts of blood, +And kindly grant an ear to gentler sounds. +If e'er thy youth has known the pangs of absence, +Or felt th' impatience of obstructed love, +Give me, before th' approaching hour of fate, +Once to behold the charms of bright Aspasia, +And draw new virtue from her heav'nly tongue. + + CALI. +Let prudence, ere the suit be farther urg'd, +Impartial weigh the pleasure with the danger. +A little longer, and she's thine for ever. + + DEMETRIUS. +Prudence and love conspire in this request, +Lest, unacquainted with our bold attempt, +Surprise o'erwhelm her, and retard our flight. + + CALI. +What I can grant, you cannot ask in vain-- + + DEMETRIUS. +I go to wait thy call; this kind consent +Completes the gift of freedom and of life. [_Exit_ Dem. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +And this is my reward--to burn, to languish, +To rave, unheeded; while the happy Greek, +The refuse of our swords, the dross of conquest, +Throws his fond arms about Aspasia's neck, +Dwells on her lips, and sighs upon her breast. +Is't not enough, he lives by our indulgence, +But he must live to make his masters wretched? + + CALI. +What claim hast thou to plead? + + ABDALLA. +The claim of pow'r, +Th' unquestion'd claim of conquerors and kings! + + CALI. +Yet, in the use of pow'r, remember justice. + + ABDALLA. +Can then th' assassin lift his treach'rous hand +Against his king, and cry, remember justice? +Justice demands the forfeit life of Cali; +Justice demands, that I reveal your crimes; +Justice demands--but see th' approaching sultan! +Oppose my wishes, and--remember justice. + + CALI. +Disorder sits upon thy face--retire. + +[_Exit_ Abdalla; enter Mahomet. + + +SCENE V. + +CALI, MAHOMET. + + CALI. +Long be the sultan bless'd with happy love! +My zeal marks gladness dawning on thy cheek, +With raptures, such as fire the pagan crowds, +When, pale and anxious for their years to come, +They see the sun surmount the dark eclipse, +And hail, unanimous, their conqu'ring god. + + MAHOMET. +My vows, 'tis true, she hears with less aversion; +She sighs, she blushes, but she still denies. + + CALI. +With warmer courtship press the yielding fair: +Call to your aid, with boundless promises, +Each rebel wish, each traitor inclination, +That raises tumults in the female breast, +The love of pow'r, of pleasure, and of show. + + MAHOMET. +These arts I try'd, and, to inflame her more, +By hateful business hurried from her sight, +I bade a hundred virgins wait around her, +Sooth her with all the pleasures of command, +Applaud her charms, and court her to be great. + +[_Exit_ Mahomet. + + +SCENE VI. + +CALI, _solus_. + +He's gone--Here rest, my soul, thy fainting wing; +Here recollect thy dissipated pow'rs.-- +Our distant int'rests, and our diff'rent passions. +Now haste to mingle in one common centre. +And fate lies crowded in a narrow space. +Yet, in that narrow space what dangers rise!-- +Far more I dread Abdalla's fiery folly, +Than all the wisdom of the grave divan. +Reason with reason fights on equal terms; +The raging madman's unconnected schemes +We cannot obviate, for we cannot guess. +Deep in my breast be treasur'd this resolve, +When Cali mounts the throne, Abdalla dies, +Too fierce, too faithless, for neglect or trust. + +[_Enter_ Irene _with attendants_. + + +SCENE VII. + +CALI, IRENE, ASPASIA, &c. + + CALI. +Amidst the splendour of encircling beauty, +Superiour majesty proclaims thee queen, +And nature justifies our monarch's choice. + + IRENE. +Reserve this homage for some other fair; +Urge me not on to glitt'ring guilt, nor pour +In my weak ear th' intoxicating sounds. + + CALI. +Make haste, bright maid, to rule the willing world; +Aw'd by the rigour of the sultan's justice, +We court thy gentleness. + + ASPASIA. + Can Cali's voice +Concur to press a hapless captive's ruin? + + CALI. +Long would my zeal for Mahomet and thee +Detain me here. But nations call upon me, +And duty bids me choose a distant walk, +Nor taint with care the privacies of love. + + +SCENE VIII. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, _attendants_. + + ASPASIA. +If yet this shining pomp, these sudden honours, +Swell not thy soul, beyond advice or friendship, +Nor yet inspire the follies of a queen, +Or tune thine ear to soothing adulation, +Suspend awhile the privilege of pow'r, +To hear the voice of truth; dismiss thy train, +Shake off th' incumbrances of state, a moment, +And lay the tow'ring sultaness aside, + +Irene _signs to her attendants to retire_. + +While I foretell thy fate: that office done,-- +No more I boast th' ambitious name of friend, +But sink among thy slaves, without a murmur. + + IRENE. +Did regal diadems invest my brow, +Yet should my soul, still faithful to her choice, +Esteem Aspasia's breast the noblest kingdom. + + ASPASIA. +The soul, once tainted with so foul a crime, +No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour: +Those holy beings, whose superiour care +Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue, +Affrighted at impiety, like thine, +Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin[a]. + +[a] In the original copy of this tragedy, given to Mr. Langton, the + above speech is as follows; and, in Mr. Boswell's judgment, is + finer than in the present editions: + + "Nor think to say, here will I stop; + Here will I fix the limits of transgression, + Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven. + When guilt, like this, once harbours in the breast, + Those holy beings, whose unseen direction + Guides, through the maze of life, the steps of man. + Fly the detested mansions of impiety, + And quit their charge to horrour and to ruin." + + See Boswell, i. for other compared extracts from the first sketch. + --ED. + + IRENE. +Upbraid me not with fancied wickedness; +I am not yet a queen, or an apostate. +But should I sin beyond the hope of mercy, +If, when religion prompts me to refuse, +The dread of instant death restrains my tongue? + + ASPASIA. +Reflect, that life and death, affecting sounds! +Are only varied modes of endless being; +Reflect, that life, like ev'ry other blessing, +Derives its value from its use alone; +Not for itself, but for a nobler end, +Th' Eternal gave it, and that end is virtue. +When inconsistent with a greater good, +Reason commands to cast the less away: +Thus life, with loss of wealth, is well preserv'd, +And virtue cheaply say'd, with loss of life. + + IRENE. +If built on settled thought, this constancy +Not idly flutters on a boastful tongue, +Why, when destruction rag'd around our walls, +Why fled this haughty heroine from the battle? +Why, then, did not this warlike amazon +Mix in the war, and shine among the heroes? + + ASPASIA. +Heav'n, when its hand pour'd softness on our limbs, +Unfit for toil, and polish'd into weakness, +Made passive fortitude the praise of woman: +Our only arms are innocence and meekness. +Not then with raving cries I fill'd the city; +But, while Demetrius, dear, lamented name! +Pour'd storms of fire upon our fierce invaders, +Implor'd th' eternal pow'r to shield my country, +With silent sorrows, and with calm devotion. + + IRENE. +O! did Irene shine the queen of Turkey, +No more should Greece lament those pray'rs rejected; +Again, should golden splendour grace her cities, +Again, her prostrate palaces should rise, +Again, her temples sound with holy musick: +No more should danger fright, or want distress +The smiling widows, and protected orphans. + + ASPASIA. +Be virtuous ends pursued by virtuous means, +Nor think th' intention sanctifies the deed: +That maxim, publish'd in an impious age, +Would loose the wild enthusiast to destroy, +And fix the fierce usurper's bloody title; +Then bigotry might send her slaves to war, +And bid success become the test of truth: +Unpitying massacre might waste the world, +And persecution boast the call of heaven. + + IRENE. +Shall I not wish to cheer afflicted kings, +And plan the happiness of mourning millions? + + ASPASIA. +Dream not of pow'r, thou never canst attain: +When social laws first harmoniz'd the world, +Superiour man possess'd the charge of rule, +The scale of justice, and the sword of power, +Nor left us aught, but flattery and state. + + IRENE. +To me my lover's fondness will restore +Whate'er man's pride has ravish'd from our sex. + + ASPASIA. +When soft security shall prompt the sultan, +Freed from the tumults of unsettled conquest, +To fix his court, and regulate his pleasures, +Soon shall the dire seraglio's horrid gates +Close, like th' eternal bars of death, upon thee. +Immur'd, and buried in perpetual sloth, +That gloomy slumber of the stagnant soul, +There shalt thou view, from far, the quiet cottage, +And sigh for cheerful poverty in vain; +There wear the tedious hours of life away, +Beneath each curse of unrelenting heav'n, +Despair and slav'ry, solitude and guilt. + + IRENE. +There shall we find the yet untasted bliss +Of grandeur and tranquillity combin'd. + + ASPASIA. +Tranquillity and guilt, disjoin'd by heaven, +Still stretch in vain their longing arms afar; +Nor dare to pass th' insuperable bound. +Ah! let me rather seek the convent's cell; +There, when my thoughts, at interval of prayer, +Descend to range these mansions of misfortune, +Oft shall I dwell on our disastrous friendship, +And shed the pitying tear for lost Irene. + + IRENE. +Go, languish on in dull obscurity; +Thy dazzled soul, with all its boasted greatness, +Shrinks at th' o'erpow'ring gleams of regal state, +Stoops from the blaze, like a degen'rate eagle, +And flies for shelter to the shades of life. + + ASPASIA. +On me should providence, without a crime, +The weighty charge of royalty confer; +Call me to civilize the Russian wilds, +Or bid soft science polish Britain's heroes; +Soon should'st thou see, how false thy weak reproach, +My bosom feels, enkindled from the sky, +The lambent flames of mild benevolence, +Untouch'd by fierce ambition's raging fires. + + IRENE. +Ambition is the stamp, impress'd by heav'n +To mark the noblest minds; with active heat +Inform'd, they mount the precipice of pow'r, +Grasp at command, and tow'r in quest of empire; +While vulgar souls compassionate their cares, +Gaze at their height, and tremble at their danger: +Thus meaner spirits, with amazement, mark +The varying seasons, and revolving skies, +And ask, what guilty pow'r's rebellious hand +Rolls with eternal toil the pond'rous orbs; +While some archangel, nearer to perfection, +In easy state, presides o'er all their motions, +Directs the planets, with a careless nod, +Conducts the sun, and regulates the spheres. + + ASPASIA. +Well may'st thou hide in labyrinths of sound +The cause that shrinks from reason's pow'rful voice. +Stoop from thy flight, trace back th' entangled thought, +And set the glitt'ring fallacy to view. +Not pow'r I blame, but pow'r obtain'd by crime; +Angelick greatness is angelick virtue. +Amidst the glare of courts, the shout of armies, +Will not th' apostate feel the pangs of guilt, +And wish, too late, for innocence and peace, +Curst, as the tyrant of th' infernal realms, +With gloomy state and agonizing pomp? + + +SCENE IX. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, MAID. + + MAID. +A Turkish stranger, of majestick mien, +Asks at the gate admission to Aspasia, +Commission'd, as he says, by Cali bassa. + + IRENE. +Whoe'er thou art, or whatsoe'er thy message, [Aside. +Thanks for this kind relief--With speed admit him. + + ASPASIA. +He comes, perhaps, to separate us for ever; +When I am gone, remember, O! remember, +That none are great, or happy, but the virtuous. + +[_Exit_ Irene; _enter_ Demetrius. + + +SCENE X. + +ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +'Tis she--my hope, my happiness, my love! +Aspasia! do I, once again, behold thee? +Still, still the same--unclouded by misfortune! +Let my blest eyes for ever gaze-- + + ASPASIA. + Demetrius! + + DEMETRIUS. +Why does the blood forsake thy lovely cheek? +Why shoots this chilness through thy shaking nerves? +Why does thy soul retire into herself? +Recline upon my breast thy sinking beauties: +Revive--Revive to freedom and to love. + + ASPASIA. +What well-known voice pronounc'd the grateful sounds, +Freedom and love? Alas! I'm all confusion; +A sudden mist o'ercasts my darken'd soul; +The present, past, and future swim before me, +Lost in a wild perplexity of joy. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such ecstasy of love, such pure affection, +What worth can merit? or what faith reward? + + ASPASIA. +A thousand thoughts, imperfect and distracted, +Demand a voice, and struggle into birth; +A thousand questions press upon my tongue, +But all give way to rapture and Demetrius. + + DEMETRIUS. +O say, bright being, in this age of absence, +What fears, what griefs, what dangers, hast thou known? +Say, how the tyrant threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd! +Say, how he threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd in vain! +Say, how the hand of violence was rais'd! +Say, how thou call'dst in tears upon Demetrius! + + ASPASIA. +Inform me rather, how thy happy courage +Stemm'd in the breach the deluge of destruction, +And pass'd, uninjur'd, through the walks of death. +Did savage anger and licentious conquest +Behold the hero with Aspasia's eyes? +And, thus protected in the gen'ral ruin, +O! say, what guardian pow'r convey'd thee hither. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such strange events, such unexpected chances, +Beyond my warmest hope, or wildest wishes, +Concurr'd to give me to Aspasia's arms, +I stand amaz'd, and ask, if yet I clasp thee. + + ASPASIA. +Sure heav'n, (for wonders are not wrought in vain!) +That joins us thus, will never part us more. + + +SCENE XI. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +It parts you now--The hasty sultan sign'd +The laws unread, and flies to his Irene. + + DEMETRIUS. +Fix'd and intent on his Irene's charms, +He envies none the converse of Aspasia. + + ABDALLA. +Aspasia's absence will inflame suspicion; +She cannot, must not, shall not, linger here; +Prudence and friendship bid me force her from you. + + DEMETRIUS. +Force her! profane her with a touch, and die! + + ABDALLA. +'Tis Greece, 'tis freedom, calls Aspasia hence; +Your careless love betrays your country's cause. + + DEMETRIUS. +If we must part-- + + ASPASIA. + No! let us die together. + + DEMETRIUS. +If we must part-- + + ABDALLA. + Despatch; th' increasing danger +Will not admit a lover's long farewell, +The long-drawn intercourse of sighs and kisses. + + DEMETRIUS. +Then--O! my fair, I cannot bid thee go. +Receive her, and protect her, gracious heav'n! +Yet let me watch her dear departing steps; +If fate pursues me, let it find me here. + Reproach not, Greece, a lover's fond delays, + Nor think thy cause neglected, while I gaze; + New force, new courage, from each glance I gain, + And find our passions not infus'd in vain. [_Exeunt_. + + +ACT IV.--SCENE I. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, _enter as talking_. + + ASPASIA. +Enough--resistless reason calms my soul-- +Approving justice smiles upon your cause, +And nature's rights entreat th' asserting sword. +Yet, when your hand is lifted to destroy, +Think, but excuse a woman's needless caution,-- +Purge well thy mind from ev'ry private passion, +Drive int'rest, love, and vengeance, from thy thoughts; +Fill all thy ardent breast with Greece and virtue; +Then strike secure, and heav'n assist the blow! + + DEMETRIUS. +Thou kind assistant of my better angel, +Propitious guide of my bewilder'd soul, +Calm of my cares, and guardian of my virtue! + + ASPASIA. +My soul, first kindled by thy bright example, +To noble thought and gen'rous emulation, +Now but reflects those beams that flow'd from thee. + + DEMETRIUS. +With native lustre and unborrow'd greatness, +Thou shin'st, bright maid, superiour to distress; +Unlike the trifling race of vulgar beauties, +Those glitt'ring dewdrops of a vernal morn, +That spread their colours to the genial beam, +And, sparkling, quiver to the breath of May; +But, when the tempest, with sonorous wing, +Sweeps o'er the grove, forsake the lab'ring bough, +Dispers'd in air, or mingled with the dust. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear this triumph--still new conflicts wait us, +Foes unforeseen, and dangers unsuspected. +Oft, when the fierce besiegers' eager host +Beholds the fainting garrison retire, +And rushes joyful to the naked wall, +Destruction flashes from th' insidious mine, +And sweeps th' exulting conqueror away. +Perhaps, in vain the sultan's anger spar'd me, +To find a meaner fate from treach'rous friendship-- +Abdalla!-- + + DEMETRIUS. + Can Abdalla then dissemble! +That fiery chief, renown'd for gen'rous freedom, +For zeal unguarded, undissembled hate, +For daring truth, and turbulence of honour! + + ASPASIA. +This open friend, this undesigning hero, +With noisy falsehoods, forc'd me from your arms, +To shock my virtue with a tale of love. + + DEMETRIUS. +Did not the cause of Greece restrain my sword, +Aspasia should not fear a second insult. + + ASPASIA. +His pride and love, by turns, inspir'd his tongue, +And intermix'd my praises with his own; +His wealth, his rank, his honours, he recounted, +Till, in the midst of arrogance and fondness, +Th' approaching sultan forc'd me from the palace; +Then, while he gaz'd upon his yielding mistress, +I stole, unheeded, from their ravish'd eyes, +And sought this happy grove in quest of thee. + + DEMETRIUS. +Soon may the final stroke decide our fate, +Lest baleful discord crush our infant scheme, +And strangled freedom perish in the birth! + + ASPASIA. +My bosom, harass'd with alternate passions, +Now hopes, now fears-- + + DEMETRIUS. + Th' anxieties of love. + + ASPASIA. +Think, how the sov'reign arbiter of kingdoms +Detests thy false associates' black designs, +And frowns on perjury, revenge, and murder. +Embark'd with treason on the seas of fate, +When heaven shall bid the swelling billows rage, +And point vindictive lightnings at rebellion, +Will not the patriot share the traitor's danger? +Oh! could thy hand, unaided, free thy country, +Nor mingled guilt pollute the sacred cause! + + DEMETRIUS. +Permitted oft, though not inspir'd, by heaven, +Successful treasons punish impious kings. + + ASPASIA. +Nor end my terrours with the sultan's death; +Far as futurity's untravell'd waste +Lies open to conjecture's dubious ken, +On ev'ry side confusion, rage, and death, +Perhaps, the phantoms of a woman's fear, +Beset the treach'rous way with fatal ambush; +Each Turkish bosom burns for thy destruction, +Ambitious Cali dreads the statesman's arts, +And hot Abdalla hates the happy lover. + + DEMETRIUS. +Capricious man! to good and ill inconstant, +Too much to fear or trust is equal weakness. +Sometimes the wretch, unaw'd by heav'n or hell, +With mad devotion idolizes honour. +The bassa, reeking with his master's murder, +Perhaps, may start at violated friendship. + + ASPASIA. +How soon, alas! will int'rest, fear, or envy, +O'erthrow such weak, such accidental virtue, +Nor built on faith, nor fortified by conscience! + + DEMETRIUS. +When desp'rate ills demand a speedy cure, +Distrust is cowardice, and prudence folly. + + ASPASIA. +Yet, think a moment, ere you court destruction, +What hand, when death has snatch'd away Demetrius, +Shall guard Aspasia from triumphant lust. + + DEMETRIUS. +Dismiss these needless fears--a troop of Greeks, +Well known, long try'd, expect us on the shore. +Borne on the surface of the smiling deep, +Soon shalt thou scorn, in safety's arms repos'd, +Abdalla's rage and Cali's stratagems. + + ASPASIA. +Still, still, distrust sits heavy on my heart. +Will e'er a happier hour revisit Greece? + + DEMETRIUS. +Should heav'n, yet unappeas'd, refuse its aid, +Disperse our hopes, and frustrate our designs, +Yet shall the conscience of the great attempt +Diffuse a brightness on our future days; +Nor will his country's groans reproach Demetrius. +But how canst thou support the woes of exile? +Canst thou forget hereditary splendours, +To live obscure upon a foreign coast, +Content with science, innocence, and love? + + ASPASIA. +Nor wealth, nor titles, make Aspasia's bliss. +O'erwhelm'd and lost amidst the publick ruins, +Unmov'd, I saw the glitt'ring trifles perish, +And thought the petty dross beneath a sigh. +Cheerful I follow to the rural cell; +Love be my wealth, and my distinction virtue. + + DEMETRIUS. +Submissive, and prepar'd for each event, +Now let us wait the last award of heav'n, +Secure of happiness from flight or conquest; +Nor fear the fair and learn'd can want protection. +The mighty Tuscan courts the banish'd arts +To kind Italia's hospitable shades; +There shall soft leisure wing th' excursive soul, +And peace, propitious, smile on fond desire; +There shall despotick eloquence resume +Her ancient empire o'er the yielding heart; +There poetry shall tune her sacred voice, +And wake from ignorance the western world. + + +SCENE II. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, CALI. + + CALI. +At length th' unwilling sun resigns the world +To silence and to rest. The hours of darkness, +Propitious hours to stratagem and death, +Pursue the last remains of ling'ring light. + + DEMETRIUS. +Count not these hours, as parts of vulgar time; +Think them a sacred treasure lent by heaven, +Which, squander'd by neglect, or fear, or folly, +No prayer recalls, no diligence redeems. +To-morrow's dawn shall see the Turkish king +Stretch'd in the dust, or tow'ring on his throne; +To-morrow's dawn shall see the mighty Cali +The sport of tyranny, or lord of nations. + + CALI. +Then waste no longer these important moments +In soft endearments, and in gentle murmurs; +Nor lose, in love, the patriot and the hero. + + DEMETRIUS. +'Tis love, combin'd with guilt alone, that melts +The soften'd soul to cowardice and sloth; +But virtuous passion prompts the great resolve, +And fans the slumbering spark of heavenly fire. +Retire, my fair; that pow'r that smiles on goodness, +Guide all thy steps, calm ev'ry stormy thought, +And still thy bosom with the voice of peace! + + ASPASIA. +Soon may we meet again, secure and free, +To feel no more the pangs of separation! [_Exit_. + +DEMETRIUS, CALI. + + DEMETRIUS. +This night alone is ours--Our mighty foe, +No longer lost in am'rous solitude, +Will now remount the slighted seat of empire, +And show Irene to the shouting people: +Aspasia left her, sighing in his arms, +And list'ning to the pleasing tale of pow'r; +With soften'd voice she dropp'd the faint refusal, +Smiling consent she sat, and blushing love. + + CALI. +Now, tyrant, with satiety of beauty +Now feast thine eyes; thine eyes, that ne'er hereafter +Shall dart their am'rous glances at the fair, +Or glare on Cali with malignant beams. + + +SCENE III. + +DEMETRIUS, CALI, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA. + + LEONTIUS. +Our bark, unseen, has reach'd th' appointed bay, +And, where yon trees wave o'er the foaming surge, +Reclines against the shore: our Grecian troop +Extends its lines along the sandy beach, +Elate with hope, and panting for a foe. + + ABDALLA. +The fav'ring winds assist the great design, +Sport in our sails, and murmur o'er the deep. + + CALI. +'Tis well--A single blow completes our wishes; +Return with speed, Leontius, to your charge; +The Greeks, disorder'd by their leader's absence, +May droop dismay'd, or kindle into madness. + + + LEONTIUS. +Suspected still!--What villain's pois'nous tongue +Dares join Leontius' name with fear or falsehood? +Have I for this preserv'd my guiltless bosom, +Pure as the thoughts of infant innocence? +Have I for this defy'd the chiefs of Turkey, +Intrepid in the flaming front of war? + + CALI. +Hast thou not search'd my soul's profoundest thoughts? +Is not the fate of Greece and Cali thine? + + LEONTIUS. +Why has thy choice then pointed out Leontius, +Unfit to share this night's illustrious toils? +To wait, remote from action, and from honour, +An idle list'ner to the distant cries +Of slaughter'd infidels, and clash of swords? +Tell me the cause, that while thy name, Demetrius, +Shall soar, triumphant on the wings of glory, +Despis'd and curs'd, Leontius must descend +Through hissing ages, a proverbial coward, +The tale of women, and the scorn of fools? + + DEMETRIUS. +Can brave Leontius be the slave of glory? +Glory, the casual gift of thoughtless crowds! +Glory, the bribe of avaricious virtue! +Be but my country free, be thine the praise; +I ask no witness, but attesting conscience, +No records, but the records of the sky. + + LEONTIUS. +Wilt thou then head the troop upon the shore, +While I destroy th' oppressor of mankind? + + DEMETRIUS. +What canst thou boast superiour to Demetrius? +Ask, to whose sword the Greeks will trust their cause, +My name shall echo through the shouting field: +Demand, whose force yon Turkish heroes dread, +The shudd'ring camp shall murmur out Demetrius. + + CALI +Must Greece, still wretched by her children's folly, +For ever mourn their avarice or factions? +Demetrius justly pleads a double title; +The lover's int'rest aids the patriot's claim. + + LEONTIUS. +My pride shall ne'er protract my country's woes; +Succeed, my friend, unenvied by Leontius. + + DEMETRIUS. +I feel new spirit shoot along my nerves; +My soul expands to meet approaching freedom. +Now hover o'er us, with propitious wings, +Ye sacred shades of patriots and of martyrs! +All ye, whose blood tyrannick rage effus'd, +Or persecution drank, attend our call; +I And from the mansions of perpetual peace +Descend, to sweeten labours, once your own! + + CALI. +Go then, and with united eloquence +Confirm your troops; and, when the moon's fair beam +Plays on the quiv'ring waves, to guide our flight, +Return, Demetrius, and be free for ever. + [_Exeunt_ Dem. _and_ Leon. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +How the new monarch, swell'd with airy rule, +Looks down, contemptuous, from his fancy'd height, +And utters fate, unmindful of Abdalla! + + CALI. +Far be such black ingratitude from Cali! +When Asia's nations own me for their lord, +Wealth, and command, and grandeur shall be thine! + + ABDALLA. +Is this the recompense reserv'd for me? +Dar'st thou thus dally with Abdalla's passion? +Henceforward, hope no more my slighted friendship; +Wake from thy dream of power to death and tortures, +And bid thy visionary throne farewell. + + CALI. +Name, and enjoy thy wish-- + + ABDALLA. + I need not name it; +Aspasia's lovers know but one desire, +Nor hope, nor wish, nor live, but for Aspasia. + + CALI. +That fatal beauty, plighted to Demetrius, +Heaven makes not mine to give. + + ABDALLA. + Nor to deny. + + CALI. +Obtain her, and possess; thou know'st thy rival. + + ABDALLA. +Too well I know him, since, on Thracia's plains, +I felt the force of his tempestuous arm, +And saw my scatter'd squadrons fly before him. +Nor will I trust th' uncertain chance of combat; +The rights of princes let the sword decide, +The petty claims of empire and of honour: +Revenge and subtle jealousy shall teach +A surer passage to his hated heart. + + CALI. +Oh! spare the gallant Greek, in him we lose +The politician's arts, and hero's flame. + + ABDALLA. +When next we meet, before we storm the palace, +The bowl shall circle to confirm our league; +Then shall these juices taint Demetrius' draught, + [_Showing a phial_. +And stream, destructive, through his freezing veins: +Thus shall he live to strike th' important blow, +And perish, ere he taste the joys of conquest. + + +SCENE V. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, CALI, ABDALLA. + + MAHOMET. +Henceforth, for ever happy be this day, +Sacred to love, to pleasure, and Irene! +The matchless fair has bless'd me with compliance; +Let every tongue resound Irene's praise, +And spread the gen'ral transport through mankind. + + CALI. +Blest prince, for whom indulgent heav'n ordains, +At once, the joys of paradise and empire, +Now join thy people's and thy Cali's prayers; +Suspend thy passage to the seats of bliss, +Nor wish for houries in Irene's arms. + + MAHOMET. +Forbear--I know the long-try'd faith of Cali. + + CALI. +Oh! could the eyes of kings, like those of heav'n, +Search to the dark recesses of the soul, +Oft would they find ingratitude and treason, +By smiles, and oaths, and praises, ill disguis'd. +How rarely would they meet, in crowded courts, +Fidelity so firm, so pure, as mine. + + MUSTAPHA. +Yet, ere we give our loosen'd thoughts to rapture, +Let prudence obviate an impending danger: +Tainted by sloth, the parent of sedition, +The hungry janizary burns for plunder, +And growls, in private, o'er his idle sabre. + + MAHOMET. +To still their murmurs, ere the twentieth sun +Shall shed his beams upon the bridal bed, +I rouse to war, and conquer for Irene. +Then shall the Rhodian mourn his sinking tow'rs, +And Buda fall, and proud Vienna tremble; +Then shall Venetia feel the Turkish pow'r, +And subject seas roar round their queen in vain. + + ABDALLA. +Then seize fair Italy's delightful coast, +To fix your standard in imperial Rome. + + MAHOMET. +Her sons malicious clemency shall spare, +To form new legends, sanctify new crimes; +To canonize the slaves of superstition, +And fill the world with follies and impostures, +Till angry heav'n shall mark them out for ruin, +And war o'erwhelm them in their dream of vice. +O! could her fabled saints and boasted prayers +Call forth her ancient heroes to the field, +How should I joy, midst the fierce shock of nations, +To cross the tow'rings of an equal soul, +And bid the master-genius rule the world! +Abdalla, Cali, go--proclaim my purpose. + [_Exeunt_ Cali _and_ Abdalla. + + +SCENE VI. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA. + + MAHOMET. +Still Cali lives: and must he live to-morrow? +That fawning villain's forc'd congratulations +Will cloud my triumphs, and pollute the day. + + MUSTAPHA. +With cautious vigilance, at my command, +Two faithful captains, Hasan and Caraza, +Pursue him through his labyrinths of treason, +And wait your summons to report his conduct. + + MAHOMET. +Call them--but let them not prolong their tale, +Nor press, too much, upon a lover's patience. + [_Exit_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE VII. + +Mahomet, _Solus_. + +Whome'er the hope, still blasted, still renew'd, +Of happiness lures on from toil to toil, +Remember Mahomet, and cease thy labour. +Behold him here, in love, in war, successful; +Behold him, wretched in his double triumph! +His fav'rite faithless, and his mistress base. +Ambition only gave her to my arms, +By reason not convinc'd, nor won by love. +Ambition was her crime; but meaner folly +Dooms me to loathe, at once, and dote on falsehood, +And idolize th' apostate I contemn. +If thou art more than the gay dream of fancy, +More than a pleasing sound, without a meaning, +O happiness! sure thou art all Aspasia's. + + +SCENE VIII. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, HASAN, CARAZA. + + MAHOMET. +Caraza, speak--have ye remark'd the bassa? + + CARAZA. +Close, as we might unseen, we watch'd his steps: +His hair disorder'd, and his gait unequal, +Betray'd the wild emotions of his mind. +Sudden he stops, and inward turns his eyes, +Absorb'd in thought; then, starting from his trance, +Constrains a sullen smile, and shoots away. +With him Abdalla we beheld-- + + MUSTAPHA. + Abdalla! + + MAHOMET. +He wears, of late, resentment on his brow, +Deny'd the government of Servia's province. + + CARAZA. +We mark'd him storming in excess of fury, +And heard, within the thicket that conceal'd us, +An undistinguish'd sound of threat'ning rage. + + MUSTAPHA. +How guilt, once harbour'd in the conscious breast, +Intimidates the brave, degrades the great; +See Cali, dread of kings, and pride of armies, +By treason levell'd with the dregs of men! +Ere guilty fear depress'd the hoary chief, +An angry murmur, a rebellious frown, +Had stretch'd the fiery boaster in the grave. + + MAHOMET. +Shall monarchs fear to draw the sword of justice, +Aw'd by the crowd, and by their slaves restrain'd? +Seize him this night, and, through the private passage, +Convey him to the prison's inmost depths, +Reserv'd to all the pangs of tedious death. + [_Exeunt_ Mahomet _and_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE IX. + +HASAN, CARAZA. + + HASAN. +Shall then the Greeks, unpunish'd and conceal'd, +Contrive, perhaps, the ruin of our empire; +League with our chiefs, and propagate sedition? + + CARAZA. +Whate'er their scheme, the bassa's death defeats it, +And gratitude's strong ties restrain my tongue. + + HASAN. +What ties to slaves? what gratitude to foes? + + CARAZA. +In that black day, when slaughter'd thousands fell +Around these fatal walls, the tide of war +Bore me victorious onward, where Demetrius +Tore, unresisted, from the giant hand +Of stern Sebalias, the triumphant crescent, +And dash'd the might of Asam from the ramparts. +There I became, nor blush to make it known, +The captive of his sword. The coward Greeks, +Enrag'd by wrongs, exulting with success, +Doom'd me to die with all the Turkish captains; +But brave Demetrius scorn'd the mean revenge, +And gave me life.-- + + HASAN. + Do thou repay the gift, +Lest unrewarded mercy lose its charms. +Profuse of wealth, or bounteous of success, +When heav'n bestows the privilege to bless, +Let no weak doubt the gen'rous hand restrain; +For when was pow'r beneficent in vain? [_Exeunt._ + + +ACT V.--SCENE I. + +ASPASIA, _sola_. + +In these dark moments of suspended fate, +While yet the future fortune of my country +Lies in the womb of providence conceal'd, +And anxious angels wait the mighty birth; +O! grant thy sacred influence, pow'rful virtue! +Attentive rise, survey the fair creation, +Till, conscious of th' encircling deity, +Beyond the mists of care thy pinion tow'rs. +This calm, these joys, dear innocence! are thine: +Joys ill exchang'd for gold, and pride, and empire. + + [_Enter_ Irene _and attendants_. + + +SCENE II. + +ASPASIA, IRENE _and attendants_. + + IRENE. +See how the moon, through all th' unclouded sky, +Spreads her mild radiance, and descending dews +Revive the languid flow'rs; thus nature shone +New from the maker's hand, and fair array'd +In the bright colours of primeval spring; +When purity, while fraud was yet unknown, +Play'd fearless in th' inviolated shades. +This elemental joy, this gen'ral calm, +Is, sure, the smile of unoffended heav'n. +Yet! why-- + + MAID. + Behold, within th' embow'ring grove +Aspasia stands-- + + IRENE. + With melancholy mien, +Pensive, and envious of Irene's greatness. +Steal, unperceiv'd, upon her meditations +But see, the lofty maid, at our approach, +Resumes th' imperious air of haughty virtue. +Are these th' unceasing joys, th' unmingled pleasures, + [_To_ Aspasia. +For which Aspasia scorn'd the Turkish crown? +Is this th' unshaken confidence in heav'n? +Is this the boasted bliss of conscious virtue? +When did content sigh out her cares in secret? +When did felicity repine in deserts? + + ASPASIA. +Ill suits with guilt the gaieties of triumph; +When daring vice insults eternal justice, +The ministers of wrath forget compassion, +And snatch the flaming bolt with hasty hand. + + IRENE. +Forbear thy threats, proud prophetess of ill, +Vers'd in the secret counsels of the sky. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear!--But thou art sunk beneath reproach; +In vain affected raptures flush the cheek, +And songs of pleasure warble from the tongue, +When fear and anguish labour in the breast, +And all within is darkness and confusion. +Thus, on deceitful Etna's flow'ry side, +Unfading verdure glads the roving eye; +While secret flames, with unextinguish'd rage, +Insatiate on her wasted entrails prey, +And melt her treach'rous beauties into ruin. + [_Enter_ Demetrius. + + +SCENE III. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +Fly, fly, my love! destruction rushes on us, +The rack expects us, and the sword pursues. + + ASPASIA. +Is Greece deliver'd? is the tyrant fall'n? + + DEMETRIUS. +Greece is no more; the prosp'rous tyrant lives, +Reserv'd for other lands, the scourge of heav'n. + + ASPASIA. +Say, by what fraud, what force, were you defeated? +Betray'd by falsehood, or by crowds o'erborne? + + DEMETRIUS. +The pressing exigence forbids relation. +Abdalla-- + + ASPASIA. + Hated name! his jealous rage +Broke out in perfidy--Oh! curs'd Aspasia, +Born to complete the ruin of her country! +Hide me, oh hide me from upbraiding Greece; +Oh, hide me from myself! + + DEMETRIUS. + Be fruitless grief +The doom of guilt alone, nor dare to seize +The breast, where virtue guards the throne of peace. +Devolve, dear maid, thy sorrows on the wretch, +Whose fear, or rage, or treachery, betray'd us! + + IRENE. _aside_. +A private station may discover more; +Then let me rid them of Irene's presence; +Proceed, and give a loose to love and treason. + [_Withdraws_ + + ASPASIA. +Yet tell. + + DEMETRIUS. + To tell or hear were waste of life. + + ASPASIA. +The life, which only this design supported, +Were now well lost in hearing how you fail'd. + + DEMETRIUS. +Or meanly fraudulent or madly gay, +Abdalla, while we waited near the palace, +With ill tim'd mirth propos'd the bowl of love. +Just as it reach'd my lips, a sudden cry +Urg'd me to dash it to the ground, untouch'd, +And seize my sword with disencumber'd hand. + + ASPASIA. +What cry? The stratagem? Did then Abdalla-- + + DEMETRIUS. +At once a thousand passions fir'd his cheek! +Then all is past, he cry'd--and darted from us; +Nor, at the call of Cali, deign'd to turn. + + ASPASIA. +Why did you stay, deserted and betray'd? +What more could force attempt, or art contrive? + + DEMETRIUS. +Amazement seiz'd us, and the hoary bassa +Stood, torpid in suspense; but soon Abdalla +Return'd with force that made resistance vain, +And bade his new confed'rates seize the traitors. +Cali, disarm'd, was borne away to death; +Myself escap'd, or favour'd, or neglected. + + ASPASIA. +Oh Greece! renown'd for science and for wealth, +Behold thy boasted honours snatch'd away. + + DEMETRIUS. +Though disappointment blast our general scheme, +Yet much remains to hope. I shall not call +The day disastrous, that secures our flight; +Nor think that effort lost, which rescues thee. + [_Enter_ Abdalla. + + +SCENE IV. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +At length, the prize is mine--The haughty maid, +That bears the fate of empires in her air, +Henceforth shall live for me; for me alone +Shall plume her charms, and, with attentive watch, +Steal from Abdalla's eye the sign to smile. + + DEMETRIUS. +Cease this wild roar of savage exultation; +Advance, and perish in the frantick boast. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear, Demetrius, 'tis Aspasia calls thee; +Thy love, Aspasia, calls; restrain thy sword; +Nor rush on useless wounds, with idle courage. + + DEMETRIUS. +What now remains? + + ASPASIA. + It now remains to fly! + + DEMETRIUS. +Shall, then, the savage live, to boast his insult; +Tell, how Demetrius shunn'd his single hand, +And stole his life and mistress from his sabre? + + ABDALLA. +Infatuate loiterer, has fate, in vain, +Unclasp'd his iron gripe to set thee free? +Still dost thou flutter in the jaws of death; +Snar'd with thy fears, and maz'd in stupefaction? + + DEMETRIUS. +Forgive, my fair; 'tis life, 'tis nature calls: +Now, traitor, feel the fear that chills my hand. + + ASPASIA. +'Tis madness to provoke superfluous danger, +And cowardice to dread the boast of folly. + + ABDALLA. +Fly, wretch, while yet my pity grants thee flight; +The pow'r of Turkey waits upon my call. +Leave but this maid, resign a hopeless claim, +And drag away thy life, in scorn and safety, +Thy life, too mean a prey to lure Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Once more I dare thy sword; behold the prize, +Behold, I quit her to the chance of battle. + [_Quitting_ Aspasia. + + ABDALLA. +Well may'st thou call thy master to the combat, +And try the hazard, that hast nought to stake; +Alike my death or thine is gain to thee; +But soon thou shalt repent: another moment +Shall throw th' attending janizaries round thee. + [_Exit, hastily_, Abdalla. + + +SCENE V. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS. + + IRENE. +Abdalla fails; now, fortune, all is mine. [_Aside_. +Haste, Murza, to the palace, let the sultan + [_To one of her attendant_ +Despatch his guards to stop the flying traitors, +While I protract their stay. Be swift and faithful. + [_Exit_ Murza. +This lucky stratagem shall charm the sultan, [_Aside_. +Secure his confidence, and fix his love. + + DEMETRIUS. +Behold a boaster's worth! Now snatch, my fair, +The happy moment; hasten to the shore, +Ere he return with thousands at his side. + + ASPASIA. +In vain I listen to th' inviting call +Of freedom and of love; my trembling joints, +Relax'd with fear, refuse to bear me forward. +Depart, Demetrius, lest my fate involve thee; +Forsake a wretch abandon'd to despair, +To share the miseries herself has caus'd. + + DEMETRIUS. +Let us not struggle with th' eternal will, +Nor languish o'er irreparable ruins; +Come, haste and live--Thy innocence and truth +Shall bless our wand'rings, and propitiate heav'n. + + IRENE. +Press not her flight, while yet her feeble nerves +Refuse their office, and uncertain life +Still labours with imaginary woe; +Here let me tend her with officious care, +Watch each unquiet flutter of the breast, +And joy to feel the vital warmth return, +To see the cloud forsake her kindling cheek, +And hail the rosy dawn of rising health. + + ASPASIA. +Oh! rather, scornful of flagitious greatness, +Resolve to share our dangers and our toils, +Companion of our flight, illustrious exile, +Leave slav'ry, guilt, and infamy behind. + + IRENE. +My soul attends thy voice, and banish'd virtue +Strives to regain her empire of the mind: +Assist her efforts with thy strong persuasion; +Sure, 'tis the happy hour ordain'd above, +When vanquish'd vice shall tyrannise no more. + + DEMETRIUS. +Remember, peace and anguish are before thee, +And honour and reproach, and heav'n and hell. + + ASPASIA. +Content with freedom, and precarious greatness. + + DEMETRIUS. +Now make thy choice, while yet the pow'r of choice +Kind heav'n affords thee, and inviting mercy +Holds out her hand to lead thee back to truth. + + IRENE. +Stay--in this dubious twilight of conviction, +The gleams of reason, and the clouds of passion, +Irradiate and obscure my breast, by turns: +Stay but a moment, and prevailing truth +Will spread resistless light upon my soul. + + DEMETRIUS. +But, since none knows the danger of a moment, +And heav'n forbids to lavish life away, +Let kind compulsion terminate the contest. + [_Seizing her hand_. +Ye christian captives, follow me to freedom: +A galley waits us, and the winds invite. + + IRENE. +Whence is this violence? + + DEMETRIUS. + Your calmer thought +Will teach a gentler term. + + IRENE. + Forbear this rudeness, +And learn the rev'rence due to Turkey's queen: +Fly, slaves, and call the sultan to my rescue. + + DEMETRIUS. +Farewell, unhappy maid; may every joy +Be thine, that wealth can give, or guilt receive! + + ASPASIA. +nd when, contemptuous of imperial pow'r, +Disease shall chase the phantoms of ambition, +May penitence attend thy mournful bed, +And wing thy latest pray'r to pitying heav'n! + [_Exeunt_ Dem. Asp. _with part of the attendants_. + + +SCENE VI. + +[IRENE _walks at a distance from her attendants._] + +_After a pause_. +Against the head, which innocence secures, +Insidious malice aims her darts in vain, +Turn'd backwards by the pow'rful breath of heav'n. +Perhaps, e'en now the lovers, unpursu'd, +Bound o'er the sparkling waves. Go, happy bark, +Thy sacred freight shall still the raging main. +To guide thy passage shall th' aerial spirits +Fill all the starry lamps with double blaze; +Th' applauding sky shall pour forth all its beams, +To grace the triumph of victorious virtue; +While I, not yet familiar to my crimes, +Recoil from thought, and shudder at myself. +How am I chang'd! How lately did Irene +Fly from the busy pleasures of her sex, +Well pleas'd to search the treasures of remembrance, +And live her guiltless moments o'er anew! +Come, let us seek new pleasures in the palace, + [_To her attendants, going off_. +Till soft fatigue invite us to repose. + + +SCENE VII. + +[_Enter_ MUSTAPHA, _meeting and stopping her_.] + + MUSTAPHA. +Fair falsehood, stay. + + IRENE. + What dream of sudden power +Has taught my slave the language of command? +Henceforth, be wise, nor hope a second pardon. + + MUSTAPHA. +Who calls for pardon from a wretch condemn'd? + + IRENE. +Thy look, thy speech, thy action, all is wildness-- +Who charges guilt, on me? + + MUSTAPHA. + Who charges guilt! +Ask of thy heart; attend the voice of conscience-- +Who charges guilt! lay by this proud resentment +That fires thy cheek, and elevates thy mien, +Nor thus usurp the dignity of virtue. +Review this day. + + IRENE. + Whate'er thy accusation, +The sultan is my judge. + + MUSTAPHA. + That hope is past; +Hard was the strife of justice and of love; +But now 'tis o'er, and justice has prevail'd. +Know'st thou not Cali? know'st thou not Demetrius? + + IRENE. +Bold slave, I know them both--I know them traitors. + + MUSTAPHA. +Perfidious!--yes--too well thou know'st them traitors. + + IRENE. +Their treason throws no stain upon Irene. +This day has prov'd my fondness for the sultan; +He knew Irene's truth. + + MUSTAPHA. + The sultan knows it; +He knows, how near apostasy to treason-- +But 'tis not mine to judge--I scorn and leave thee. +I go, lest vengeance urge my hand to blood, +To blood too mean to stain a soldier's sabre. + [_Exit_ Mustapha. + +IRENE, _to her attendants_. +Go, blust'ring slave--He has not heard of Murza. +That dext'rous message frees me from suspicion. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_Enter_ HASAN, CARAZA, _with mutes, who throw the black +robe upon_ IRENE, _and sign to her attendants to withdraw_. + + HASAN. +Forgive, fair excellence, th' unwilling tongue, +The tongue, that, forc'd by strong necessity, +Bids beauty, such as thine, prepare to die. + + IRENE. +What wild mistake is this! Take hence, with speed, +Your robe of mourning, and your dogs of death. +Quick from my sight, you inauspicious monsters; +Nor dare, henceforth, to shock Irene's walks. + + HASAN. +Alas! they come commanded by the sultan, +Th' unpitying ministers of Turkish justice, +Nor dare to spare the life his frown condemns. + + IRENE. +Are these the rapid thunderbolts of war, +That pour with sudden violence on kingdoms, +And spread their flames, resistless, o'er the world? +What sleepy charms benumb these active heroes, +Depress their spirits, and retard their speed? +Beyond the fear of ling'ring punishment, +Aspasia now, within her lover's arms, +Securely sleeps, and, in delightful dreams, +Smiles at the threat'nings of defeated rage. + + CARAZA. +We come, bright virgin, though relenting nature +Shrinks at the hated task, for thy destruction. +When summon'd by the sultan's clam'rous fury, +We ask'd, with tim'rous tongue, th' offender's name, +He struck his tortur'd breast, and roar'd, Irene! +We started at the sound, again inquir'd; +Again his thund'ring voice return'd, Irene! + + IRENE. +Whence is this rage; what barb'rous tongue has wrong'd me? +What fraud misleads him? or what crimes incense? + +HASAN. +Expiring Cali nam'd Irene's chamber, +The place appointed for his master's death. + + IRENE. +Irene's chamber! From my faithful bosom +Far be the thought--But hear my protestation. + + CARAZA. +'Tis ours, alas! to punish, not to judge, +Not call'd to try the cause, we heard the sentence, +Ordain'd the mournful messengers of death. + + IRENE. +Some ill designing statesman's base intrigue! +Some cruel stratagem of jealous beauty! +Perhaps, yourselves the villains that defame me:-- +Now haste to murder, ere returning thought +Recall th' extorted doom.--It must be so: +Confess your crime, or lead me to the sultan; +There dauntless truth shall blast the vile accuser; +Then shall you feel, what language cannot utter, +Each piercing torture, ev'ry change of pain, +That vengeance can invent, or pow'r inflict. + [_Enter_ Abdalla: _he stops short and listens_. + + +SCENE IX. + +IRENE, HASAN, CARAZA, ABDALLA. + +ABDALLA, _aside_. +All is not lost, Abdalla; see the queen, +See the last witness of thy guilt and fear, +Enrob'd in death--Despatch her, and be great. + + CARAZA. +Unhappy fair! compassion calls upon me +To check this torrent of imperious rage: +While unavailing anger crowds thy tongue +With idle threats and fruitless exclamation, +The fraudful moments ply their silent wings, +And steal thy life away. Death's horrid angel +Already shakes his bloody sabre o'er thee. +The raging sultan burns, till our return, +Curses the dull delays of ling'ring mercy, +And thinks his fatal mandates ill obey'd. + + ABDALLA. +Is then your sov'reign's life so cheaply rated, +That thus you parley with detected treason? +Should she prevail to gain the sultan's presence, +Soon might her tears engage a lover's credit; +Perhaps, her malice might transfer the charge; +Perhaps, her pois'nous tongue might blast Abdalla. + + IRENE. +O! let me but be heard, nor fear from me +Or flights of pow'r, or projects of ambition. +My hopes, my wishes, terminate in life, +A little life, for grief, and for repentance. + + ABDALLA. +I mark'd her wily messenger afar, +And saw him sculking in the closest walks: +I guess'd her dark designs, and warn'd the sultan, +And bring her former sentence new-confirmed. + + HASAN. +Then call it not our cruelty, nor crime; +Deem us not deaf to woe, nor blind to beauty, +That, thus constrain'd, we speed the stroke of death. + [_Beckons the mutes_. + + IRENE. +O, name not death! Distraction and amazement, +Horrour and agony are in that sound! +Let me but live, heap woes on woes upon me; +Hide me with murd'rers in the dungeon's gloom; +Send me to wander on some pathless shore, +Let shame and hooting infamy pursue me, +Let slav'ry harass, and let hunger gripe. + + CARAZA. +Could we reverse the sentence of the sultan, +Our bleeding bosoms plead Irene's cause. +But cries and tears are vain; prepare, with patience, +To meet that fate, we can delay no longer. + [_The mutes, at the sign, lay hold of her_. + + ABDALLA. +Despatch, ye ling'ring slaves; or nimbler hands, +Quick at my call, shall execute your charge; +Despatch, and learn a fitter time for pity. + + IRENE. +Grant me one hour. O! grant me but a moment, +And bounteous heav'n repay the mighty mercy, +With peaceful death, and happiness eternal. + +CARAZA. +The pray'r I cannot grant--I dare not hear. +Short be thy pains. [_Signs again to the mutes_. + + IRENE. + Unutterable anguish! +Guilt and despair, pale spectres! grin around me, +And stun me with the yellings of damnation! +O, hear my pray'rs! accept, all-pitying heav'n, +These tears, these pangs, these last remains of life; +Nor let the crimes of this detested day +Be charg'd upon my soul. O, mercy! mercy! + [_Mutes force her out_. + + +SCENE X. + +ABDALLA, HASAN, CARAZA. + +ABDALLA, _aside_. +Safe in her death, and in Demetrius' flight, +Abdalla, bid thy troubled breast be calm. +Now shalt thou shine, the darling of the sultan, +The plot all Cali's, the detection thine. + + HASAN _to_ CARAZA. +Does not thy bosom (for I know thee tender, +A stranger to th' oppressor's savage joy,) +Melt at Irene's fate, and share her woes? + + CARAZA. +Her piercing cries yet fill the loaded air, +Dwell on my ear, and sadden all my soul. +But let us try to clear our clouded brows, +And tell the horrid tale with cheerful face; +The stormy sultan rages at our stay. + + ABDALLA. +Frame your report with circumspective art: +Inflame her crimes, exalt your own obedience; +But let no thoughtless hint involve Abdalla. + + CARAZA. +What need of caution to report the fate +Of her, the sultan's voice condemn'd to die? +Or why should he, whose violence of duty +Has serv'd his prince so well, demand our silence? + + ABDALLA. +Perhaps, my zeal, too fierce, betray'd my prudence; +Perhaps, my warmth exceeded my commission; +Perhaps--I will not stoop to plead my cause, +Or argue with the slave that sav'd Demetrius. + + CARAZA. +From his escape learn thou the pow'r of virtue; +Nor hope his fortune, while thou want'st his worth. + + HASAN. +The sultan comes, still gloomy, still enraged. + + +SCENE XI. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, ABDALLA. + + MAHOMET. +Where's this fair traitress? Where's this smiling mischief, +Whom neither vows could fix, nor favours bind? + + HASAN. +Thine orders, mighty sultan, are perform'd, +And all Irene now is breathless clay. + + MAHOMET. +Your hasty zeal defrauds the claim of justice, +And disappointed vengeance burns in vain. +I came to heighten tortures by reproach, +And add new terrours to the face of death. +Was this the maid, whose love I bought with empire? +True, she was fair; the smile of innocence +Play'd on her cheek--So shone the first apostate-- +Irene's chamber! Did not roaring Cali, +Just as the rack forc'd out his struggling soul, +Name for the scene of death, Irene's chamber? + + MUSTAPHA. +His breath prolong'd, but to detect her treason, +Then, in short sighs, forsook his broken frame. + + MAHOMET. +Decreed to perish in Irene's chamber! +There had she lull'd me with endearing falsehoods, +Clasp'd in her arms, or slumb'ring on her breast, +And bar'd my bosom to the ruffian's dagger. + + +SCENE XII. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, MURZA, ABDALLA. + + MURZA. +Forgive, great sultan, that, by fate prevented, +I bring a tardy message from Irene. + + MAHOMET. +Some artful wile of counterfeited love! +Some soft decoy to lure me to destruction! +And thou, the curs'd accomplice of her treason, +Declare thy message, and expect thy doom. + + MURZA. +The queen requested, that a chosen troop +Might intercept the traitor Greek, Demetrius, +Then ling'ring with his captive mistress here. + + MUSTAPHA. +The Greek, Demetrius! whom th' expiring bassa +Declar'd the chief associate of his guilt! + + MAHOMET. +A chosen troop--to intercept--Demetrius-- +The queen requested--Wretch, repeat the message; +And, if one varied accent prove thy falsehood, +Or but one moment's pause betray confusion, +Those trembling limbs--Speak out, thou shiv'ring traitor. + + MURZA. +The queen requested-- + + MAHOMET. Who? the dead Irene? +Was she then guiltless! Has my thoughtless rage +Destroy'd the fairest workmanship of heav'n! +Doom'd her to death, unpity'd and unheard, +Amidst her kind solicitudes for me! +Ye slaves of cruelty, ye tools of rage, + [_To_ Hasan _and_ Caraza. +Ye blind, officious ministers of folly, +Could not her charms repress your zeal for murder? +Could not her pray'rs, her innocence, her tears, +Suspend the dreadful sentence for an hour? +One hour had freed me from the fatal errour! +One hour had say'd me from despair and madness. + + CARAZA. +Your fierce impatience forc'd us from your presence, +Urg'd us to speed, and bade us banish pity, +Nor trust our passions with her fatal charms. + + MAHOMET. +What hadst thou lost, by slighting those commands? +Thy life, perhaps--Were but Irene spar'd, +Well, if a thousand lives like thine had perish'd; +Such beauty, sweetness, love, were cheaply bought +With half the grov'ling slaves that load the globe. + + MUSTAPHA. +Great is thy woe! But think, illustrious sultan, +Such ills are sent for souls, like thine, to conquer. +Shake off this weight of unavailing grief, +Rush to the war, display thy dreadful banners, +And lead thy troops, victorious, round the world. + + MAHOMET. +Robb'd of the maid, with whom I wish'd to triumph, +No more I burn for fame, or for dominion; +Success and conquest now are empty sounds, +Remorse and anguish seize on all my breast; +Those groves, whose shades embower'd the dear Irene, +Heard her last cries, and fann'd her dying beauties, +Shall hide me from the tasteless world for ever. + [Mahomet _goes back, and returns_. +Yet, ere I quit the sceptre of dominion, +Let one just act conclude the hateful day-- +Hew down, ye guards, those vassals of destruction, + [_Pointing to_ Hasan _and_ Caraza. +Those hounds of blood, that catch the hint to kill, +Bear off, with eager haste, th' unfinished sentence, +And speed the stroke, lest mercy should o'ertake them. + + CARAZA. +Then hear, great Mahomet, the voice of truth. + + MAHOMET. +Hear! shall I hear thee! didst thou hear Irene? + +CARAZA. +Hear but a moment. + + MAHOMET. + Hadst thou heard a moment, +Thou might'st have liv'd, for thou hadst spar'd Irene. + + CARAZA. +I heard her, pitied her, and wish'd to save her. + + MAHOMET. +And wish'd--be still thy fate to wish in vain. + + CARAZA. +I heard, and soften'd, till Abdalla brought +Her final doom, and hurried her destruction. + + MAHOMET. +Abdalla brought her doom! Abdalla brought it! +The wretch, whose guilt, declar'd by tortur'd Cali, +My rage and grief had hid from my remembrance: +Abdalla brought her doom! + + HASAN. + Abdalla brought it, +While yet she begg'd to plead her cause before thee. + + MAHOMET. +O, seize me, madness--Did she call on me! +I feel, I see the ruffian's barb'rous rage. +He seiz'd her melting in the fond appeal, +And stopp'd the heav'nly voice that call'd on me. +My spirits fail; awhile support me, vengeance-- +Be just, ye slaves; and, to be just, be cruel; +Contrive new racks, imbitter ev'ry pang, +Inflict whatever treason can deserve, +Which murder'd innocence that call'd on me. + [_Exit_ Mahomet; Abdalla _is dragged off_. + + +SCENE XIII. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MUSTAPHA, MURZA. + +MUSTAPHA _to_ MURZA. +What plagues, what tortures, are in store for thee, +Thou sluggish idler, dilatory slave! +Behold the model of consummate beauty, +Torn from the mourning earth by thy neglect. + + MURZA. +Such was the will of heav'n--A band of Greeks, +That mark'd my course, suspicious of my purpose, +Rush'd out and seiz'd me, thoughtless and unarm'd, +Breathless, amaz'd, and on the guarded beach +Detain'd me, till Demetrius set me free. + + MUSTAPHA. +So sure the fall of greatness, rais'd on crimes! +So fix'd the justice of all conscious heav'n! +When haughty guilt exults with impious joy, +Mistake shall blast, or accident destroy; +Weak man, with erring rage, may throw the dart, +But heav'n shall guide it to the guilty heart. + +EPILOGUE. + +BY SIR WILLIAM YONGE. + +Marry a Turk! a haughty, tyrant king! +Who thinks us women born to dress and sing +To please his fancy! see no other man! +Let him persuade me to it--if he can; +Besides, he has fifty wives; and who can bear +To have the fiftieth part, her paltry share? + +'Tis true, the fellow's handsome, straight, and tall, +But how the devil should he please us all! +My swain is little--true--but, be it known, +My pride's to have that little all my own. +Men will be ever to their errours blind, +Where woman's not allow'd to speak her mind. +I swear this eastern pageantry is nonsense, +And for one man--one wife's enough in conscience. + +In vain proud man usurps what's woman's due; +For us, alone, they honour's paths pursue: +Inspir'd by us, they glory's heights ascend; +Woman the source, the object, and the end. +Though wealth, and pow'r, and glory, they receive, +These are all trifles to what we can give. +For us the statesman labours, hero fights, +Bears toilsome days, and wakes long tedious nights; +And, when blest peace has silenc'd war's alarms; +Receives his full reward in beauty's arms. + + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. + + +PROLOGUE; +SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, APRIL 5, 1750, BEFORE +THE MASQUE OF COMUS. + +Acted at Drury lane theatre, for the benefit of Milton's +granddaughter[a]. + +Ye patriot crowds, who burn for England's fame, +Ye nymphs, whose bosoms beat at Milton's name; +Whose gen'rous zeal, unbought by flatt'ring rhymes, +Shames the mean pensions of Augustan times; +Immortal patrons of succeeding days, +Attend this prelude of perpetual praise; +Let wit, condemn'd the feeble war to wage +With close malevolence, or publick rage; +Let study, worn with virtue's fruitless lore, +Behold this theatre, and grieve no more. +This night, distinguish'd by your smiles, shall tell, +That never Britain can in vain excel; +The slighted arts futurity shall trust, +And rising ages hasten to be just. + At length, our mighty bard's victorious lays +Fill the loud voice of universal praise; +And baffled spite, with hopeless anguish dumb, +Yields to renown the centuries to come; +With ardent haste each candidate of fame, +Ambitious, catches at his tow'ring name; +He sees, and pitying sees, vain wealth bestow +Those pageant honours, which he scorn'd below; +While crowds aloft the laureate bust behold, +Or trace his form on circulating gold. +Unknown, unheeded, long his offspring lay, +And want hung threat'ning o'er her slow decay, +What, though she shine with no Miltonian fire, +No fav'ring muse her morning dreams inspire; +Yet softer claims the melting heart engage, +Her youth laborious, and her blameless age; +Her's the mild merits of domestick life, +The patient sufferer, and the faithful wife. +Thus, grac'd with humble virtue's native charms, +Her grandsire leaves her in Britannia's arms; +Secure with peace, with competence, to dwell, +While tutelary nations guard her cell. +Yours is the charge, ye fair, ye wise, ye brave! +'Tis yours to crown desert--beyond the grave. + +[a] See Life of Milton. + + +PROLOGUE +TO THE COMEDY OF THE GOOD-NATUR'D MAN, 1769, + +Prest by the load of life, the weary mind +Surveys the gen'ral toil of human kind; +With cool submission joins the lab'ring train, +And social sorrow loses half its pain: +Our anxious bard, without complaint, may share +This bustling season's epidemick care; +Like Caesar's pilot, dignify'd by fate, +Tost in one common storm with all the great; +Distrest alike the statesman and the wit, +When one a borough courts, and one the pit. +The busy candidates for pow'r and fame +Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same; +Disabled both to combat or to fly, +Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply. +Uncheck'd on both loud rabbles vent their rage, +As mongrels bay the lion in a cage. +Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale, +For that blest year, when all that vote may rail; +Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss, +Till that glad night, when all that hate may hiss. +"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat," +Says swelling Crispin, "begg'd a cobbler's vote." +"This night our wit," the pert apprentice cries, +"Lies at my feet; I hiss him, and he dies." +The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe; +The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe. +Yet, judg'd by those whose voices ne'er were sold, +He feels no want of ill persuading gold; +But, confident of praise, if praise be due, +Trusts, without fear, to merit and to you. + + +PROLOGUE +TO THE COMEDY OF A WORK TO THE WISE[a] +SPOKEN BY MR. HULL. + +This night presents a play, which publick rage, +Or right, or wrong, once hooted from the stage[b]. +From zeal or malice, now, no more we dread, +For English vengeance wars not with the dead. +A gen'rous foe regards, with pitying eye, +The man whom fate has laid, where all must lie. +To wit, reviving from its author's dust, +Be kind, ye judges, or at least be just. +For no renew'd hostilities invade +Th' oblivious grave's inviolable shade. +Let one great payment ev'ry claim appease; +And him, who cannot hurt, allow to please; +To please by scenes, unconscious of offence, +By harmless merriment, or useful sense. +Where aught of bright, or fair, the piece displays, +Approve it only--'tis too late to praise. +If want of skill, or want of care appear, +Forbear to hiss--the poet cannot hear. +By all, like him, must praise and blame be found, +At best a fleeting gleam, or empty sound. +Yet, then, shall calm reflection bless the night, +When lib'ral pity dignify'd delight; +When pleasure fir'd her torch at virtue's flame, +And mirth was bounty with an humbler name. + +[a] Performed at Covent garden theatre in 1777, for the benefit of Mrs. + Kelly, widow of Hugh Kelly, esq. (the author of the play,) and her + children. + +[b] Upon the first representation of this play, 1770, a party assembled + to damn it, and succeeded. + + +SPRING; +AN ODE. + +Stern winter now, by spring repress'd, + Forbears the long-continued strife; +And nature, on her naked breast, + Delights to catch the gales of life. +Now o'er the rural kingdom roves + Soft pleasure with the laughing train, +Love warbles in the vocal groves, + And vegetation plants the plain. +Unhappy! whom to beds of pain, + Arthritick[a] tyranny consigns; +Whom smiling nature courts in vain, + Though rapture sings, and beauty shines. +Yet though my limbs disease invades, + Her wings imagination tries, +And bears me to the peaceful shades, + Where--s humble turrets rise; +Here stop, my soul, thy rapid flight, + Nor from the pleasing groves depart, +Where first great nature charm'd my sight, + Where wisdom first inform'd my heart. +Here let me through the vales pursue + A guide--a father--and a friend, +Once more great nature's works renew, + Once more on wisdom's voice attend. +From false caresses, causeless strife, + Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd, +Here let me learn the use of life, + When best enjoy'd--when most improv'd. +Teach me, thou venerable bower, + Cool meditation's quiet seat, +The gen'rous scorn of venal power, + The silent grandeur of retreat. +When pride, by guilt, to greatness climbs, + Or raging factions rush to war, +Here let me learn to shun the crimes, +I can't prevent, and will not share. + But, lest I fall by subtler foes, +Bright wisdom, teach me Curio's art, + The swelling passions to compose, +And quell the rebels of the heart. + +[a] The author being ill of the gout. + + +MIDSUMMER; +AN ODE. + +O Phoebus! down the western sky, + Far hence diffuse thy burning ray, +Thy light to distant worlds supply, + And wake them to the cares of day. +Come, gentle eve, the friend of care, + Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night! +Refresh me with a cooling air, + And cheer me with a lambent light: +Lay me, where o'er the verdant ground + Her living carpet nature spreads; +Where the green bow'r, with roses crown'd, + In show'rs its fragrant foliage sheds; +Improve the peaceful hour with wine; + Let musick die along the grove; +Around the bowl let myrtles twine, + And ev'ry strain be tun'd to love. +Come, Stella, queen of all my heart! + Come, born to fill its vast desires! +Thy looks perpetual joys impart, + Thy voice perpetual love inspires. +Whilst, all my wish and thine complete, + By turns we languish and we burn, +Let sighing gales our sighs repeat, + Our murmurs--murmuring brooks return, +Let me, when nature calls to rest, + And blushing skies the morn foretell, +Sink on the down of Stella's breast, + And bid the waking world farewell. + + +AUTUMN; +AN ODE. + +Alas! with swift and silent pace, + Impatient time rolls on the year; +The seasons change, and nature's face + Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe, +'Twas spring, 'twas summer, all was gay, + Now autumn bends a cloudy brow; +The flow'rs of spring are swept away, + And summer-fruits desert the bough. +The verdant leaves, that play'd on high, + And wanton'd on the western breeze, +Now, trod in dust, neglected lie, + As Boreas strips the bending trees. +The fields, that way'd with golden grain, + As russet heaths, are wild and bare; +Not moist with dew, but drench'd with rain, + Nor health, nor pleasure, wanders there. +No more, while through the midnight shade, + Beneath the moon's pale orb I stray, +Soft pleasing woes my heart invade, + As Progne pours the melting lay. +From this capricious clime she soars, + Oh! would some god but wings supply! +To where each morn the spring restores, + Companion of her flight I'd fly. +Vain wish! me fate compels to bear + The downward season's iron reign; +Compels to breathe polluted air, + And shiver on a blasted plain. +What bliss to life can autumn yield, + If glooms, and show'rs, and storms prevail, +And Ceres flies the naked field, + And flowers, and fruits, and Phoebus fail? +Oh! what remains, what lingers yet, + To cheer me in the dark'ning hour! +The grape remains! the friend of wit, + In love, and mirth, of mighty pow'r. +Haste--press the clusters, fill the bowl; + Apollo! shoot thy parting ray: +This gives the sunshine of the soul, + This god of health, and verse, and day. +Still--still the jocund strain shall flow, + The pulse with vig'rous rapture beat; +My Stella with new charms shall glow, + And ev'ry bliss in wine shall meet. + + +WINTER; +AN ODE. + +No more tire morn, with tepid rays, + Unfolds the flow'r of various hue; +Noon spreads no more the genial blaze, + Nor gentle eve distils the dew. +The ling'ring hours prolong the night, + Usurping darkness shares the day; +Her mists restrain the force of light, + And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway. +By gloomy twilight, half reveal'd, + With sighs we view the hoary hill, +The leafless wood, the naked field, + The snow-topp'd cot, the frozen rill. +No musick warbles through the grove, + No vivid colours paint the plain; +No more, with devious steps, I rove + Through verdant paths, now sought in vain. +Aloud the driving tempest roars, + Congeal'd, impetuous show'rs descend; +Haste, close the window, bar the doors, + Fate leaves me Stella, and a friend. +In nature's aid, let art supply + With light and heat my little sphere; +Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high, + Light up a constellation here. +Let musick sound the voice of joy, + Or mirth repeat the jocund tale; +Let love his wanton wiles employ, + And o'er the season wine prevail. +Yet time life's dreary winter brings, + When mirth's gay tale shall please no more +Nor musick charm--though Stella sings; + Nor love, nor wine, the spring restore. +Catch, then, Oh! catch the transient hour, + Improve each moment as it flies; +Life's a short summer--man a flow'r: + He dies--alas! how soon he dies! + + +THE WINTER'S WALK. + +Behold, my fair, where'er we rove, + What dreary prospects round us rise; +The naked hill, the leafless grove, + The hoary ground, the frowning skies! +Nor only through the wasted plain, + Stern winter! is thy force confess'd; +Still wider spreads thy horrid reign, + I feel thy pow'r usurp my breast. +Enliv'ning hope, and fond desire, + Resign the heart to spleen and care; +Scarce frighted love maintains her fire, + And rapture saddens to despair. +In groundless hope, and causeless fear, + Unhappy man! behold thy doom; +Still changing with the changeful year, + The slave of sunshine and of gloom. +Tir'd with vain joys, and false alarms, + With mental and corporeal strife, +Snatch me, my Stella, to thy arms, + And screen me from the ills of life[a]. + +[a] And _hide_ me from the _sight_ of life. 1st edition. + + +TO MISS **** +ON HER GIVING THE AUTHOR A GOLD AND SILK NETWORK PURSE OF HER OWN +WEAVING[a]. + +Though gold and silk their charms unite +To make thy curious web delight, +In vain the varied work would shine, +If wrought by any hand but thine; +Thy hand, that knows the subtler art +To weave those nets that catch the heart. + +Spread out by me, the roving coin +Thy nets may catch, but not confine; +Nor can I hope thy silken chain +The glitt'ring vagrants shall restrain. +Why, Stella, was it then decreed, +The heart, once caught, should ne'er be freed? + +[a] Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +TO MISS **** +ON HER PLAYING UPON THE HARPSICHORD, IN A ROOM HUNG WITH FLOWER-PIECES +OF HER OWN PAINTING[a]. + +When Stella strikes the tuneful string, +In scenes of imitated spring, +Where beauty lavishes her pow'rs +On beds of never-fading flow'rs, +And pleasure propagates around +Each charm of modulated sound; +Ah! think not, in the dang'rous hour, +The nymph fictitious as the flow'r; +But shun, rash youth, the gay alcove, +Nor tempt the snares of wily love. +When charms thus press on ev'ry sense, +What thought of flight, or of defence? +Deceitful hope, and vain desire, +For ever flutter o'er her lyre, +Delighting, as the youth draws nigh, +To point the glances of her eye, +And forming, with unerring art, +New chains to hold the captive heart. +But on those regions of delight +Might truth intrude with daring flight, +Could Stella, sprightly, fair, and young, +One moment hear the moral song, +Instruction, with her flowers, might spring, +And wisdom warble from her string. +Mark, when from thousand mingled dies +Thou seest one pleasing form arise, +How active light, and thoughtful shade +In greater scenes each other aid; +Mark, when the different notes agree +In friendly contrariety, +How passion's well-accorded strife +Gives all the harmony of life; +Thy pictures shall thy conduct frame, +Consistent still, though not the same; +Thy musick teach the nobler art, +To tune the regulated heart. + +[a] Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +EVENING; AN ODE. +TO STELLA. + +Ev'ning now from purple wings +Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; +Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, +Cooling breezes shake the reed; +Shake the reed, and curl the stream, +Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; +Near the checquer'd, lonely grove, +Hears, and keeps thy secrets, love. +Stella, thither let us stray, +Lightly o'er the dewy way. +Phoebus drives his burning car +Hence, my lovely Stella, far; +In his stead, the queen of night +Round us pours a lambent light; +Light, that seems but just to show +Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow. +Let us now, in whisper'd joy, +Ev'ning's silent hours employ; +Silence best, and conscious shades, +Please the hearts that love invades; +Other pleasures give them pain, +Lovers all but love disdain. + + +TO THE SAME. + +Whether Stella's eyes are found +Fix'd on earth, or glancing round, +If her face with pleasure glow, +If she sigh at others' woe, +If her easy air express +Conscious worth, or soft distress, +Stella's eyes, and air, and face, +Charm with undiminish'd grace. + If on her we see display'd +Pendent gems, and rich brocade; +If her chints with less expense +Flows in easy negligence; +Still she lights the conscious flame, +Still her charms appear the same; +If she strikes the vocal strings, +If she's silent, speaks, or sings, +If she sit, or if she move, +Still we love, and still approve. + Vain the casual, transient glance, +Which alone can please by chance; +Beauty, which depends on art, +Changing with the changing heart, +Which demands the toilet's aid, +Pendent gems and rich brocade. +I those charms alone can prize, +Which from constant nature rise, +Which nor circumstance, nor dress, +E'er can make, or more, or less. + + +TO A FRIEND. + +No more thus brooding o'er yon heap, +With av'rice, painful vigils keep; +Still unenjoy'd the present store, +Still endless sighs are breath'd for more. +Oh! quit the shadow, catch the prize, +Which not all India's treasure buys! + To purchase heav'n has gold the power? +Can gold remove the mortal hour? +In life, can love be bought with gold? +Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? +No--all that's worth a wish--a thought, +Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. +Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, +Let nobler views engage thy mind. + With science tread the wondrous way, +Or learn the muses' moral lay; +In social hours indulge thy soul, +Where mirth and temp'rance mix the bowl; +To virtuous love resign thy breast, +And be, by blessing beauty--blest. + Thus taste the feast, by nature spread, +Ere youth, and all its joys are fled; +Come, taste with me the balm of life, +Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. +I boast whate'er for man was meant, +In health, and Stella, and content; +And scorn! oh! let that scorn be thine! +Mere things of clay that dig the mine. + + +STELLA IN MOURNING. + +When lately Stella's form display'd +The beauties of the gay brocade, +The nymphs, who found their pow'r decline, +Proclaim'd her not so fair as fine. +"Fate! snatch away the bright disguise, +And let the goddess trust her eyes." +Thus blindly pray'd the fretful fair, +And fate malicious heard the pray'r; +But, brighten'd by the sable dress, +As virtue rises in distress, +Since Stella still extends her reign, +Ah! how shall envy sooth her pain? + Th' adoring youth and envious fair, +Henceforth, shall form one common prayer: +And love and hate, alike, implore +The skies--"That Stella mourn no more." + + +TO STELLA. + +Not the soft sighs of vernal gales, +The fragrance of the flow'ry vales, +The murmurs of the crystal rill, +The vocal grove, the verdant hill; +Not all their charms, though all unite, +Can touch my bosom with delight. + +Not all the gems on India's shore, +Not all Peru's unbounded store, +Not all the power, nor all the fame, +That heroes, kings, or poets claim; +Nor knowledge, which the learn'd approve; +To form one wish my soul can move. + +Yet nature's charms allure my eyes, +And knowledge, wealth, and fame I prize; +Fame, wealth, and knowledge I obtain, +Nor seek I nature's charms in vain; +In lovely Stella all combine; +And, lovely Stella! thou art mine. + + +VERSES, +WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN, TO WHOM A LADY HAD GIVEN A SPRIG +OF MYRTLE [a]. + +What hopes, what terrours, does thy gift create! +Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate! +The myrtle (ensign of supreme command, +Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand) +Not less capricious than a reigning fair, +Oft favours, oft rejects, a lover's pray'r. +In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain, +In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain. +The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads, +Th' unhappy lovers' graves the myrtle spreads. +Oh! then, the meaning of thy gift impart, +And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart. +Soon must this bough, as you shall fix its doom, +Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb. + +[a] These verses were first printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for + 1768, p. 439, but were written many years earlier. Elegant as they + are, Dr. Johnson assured me, they were composed in the short space + of five minutes.--N. + + +TO LADY FIREBRACE[a]. +AT BURY ASSIZES. + +At length, must Suffolk beauties shine in vain, +So long renown'd in B--n's deathless strain? +Thy charms, at least, fair Firebrace, might inspire +Some zealous bard to wake the sleeping lyre; +For, such thy beauteous mind and lovely face, +Thou seem'st at once, bright nymph, a muse and grace. + +[a] This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, esq. of + Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, esq. of that town. She became + the second wife of sir Cordell Firebrace, the last baronet of that + name, to whom she brought a fortune of 25,000 pounds, July 26, 1737. + Being again left a widow, in 1759, she was a third time married, + April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, esq. uncle to the late duke of + Argyle, and died July 3, 1782. + + +TO LYCE, +AN ELDERLY LADY. + +Ye nymphs, whom starry rays invest, +By flatt'ring poets given; +Who shine, by lavish lovers drest, +In all the pomp of heaven; + +Engross not all the beams on high, + Which gild a lover's lays; +But, as your sister of the sky, + Let Lyce share the praise. + +Her silver locks display the moon, + Her brows a cloudy show, +Strip'd rainbows round her eyes are seen, + And show'rs from either flow. + +Her teeth the night with darkness dies, + She's starr'd with pimples o'er; +Her tongue, like nimble lightning, plies, + And can with thunder roar. + +But some Zelinda, while I sing, + Denies my Lyce shines; +And all the pens of Cupid's wing + Attack my gentle lines. + +Yet, spite of fair Zelinda's eye, + And all her bards express, +My Lyce makes as good a sky, + And I but flatter less. + + +ON THE DEATH OF +MR. ROBERT LEVET[a], +A PRACTISER IN PHYSICK. + +Condemn'd to hope's delusive mine, + As on we toil, from day to day, +By sudden blasts, or slow decline, + Our social comforts drop away. + +Well try'd, through many a varying year, + See Levet to the grave descend, +Officious, innocent, sincere, + Of ev'ry friendless name the friend. + +Yet still he fills affection's eye, + Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind; +Nor, letter'd arrogance, deny + Thy praise to merit unrefined. + +When fainting nature call'd for aid, + And hov'ring death prepar'd the blow, +His vig'rous remedy display'd + The pow'r of art, without the show. + +In mis'ry's darkest cavern known, + His useful care was ever nigh, +Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, + And lonely want retir'd to die. + +No summons, mock'd by chill delay, + No petty gain, disdain'd by pride; +The modest wants of ev'ry day + The toil of ev'ry day supply'd. + +His virtues walk'd their narrow round, + Nor made a pause, nor left a void; +And sure the eternal master found + The single talent well-employ'd. + +The busy day--the peaceful night, + Unfelt, uncounted, glided by; +His frame was firm--his pow'rs were bright, + Though now his eightieth year was nigh. + +Then, with no fiery throbbing pain, + No cold gradations of decay, +Death broke, at once, the vital chain, + And freed his soul the nearest way. + +[a] These stanzas, to adopt the words of Dr. Drake, "are warm from the + heart; and this is the only poem, from the pen of Johnson, that has + been bathed with tears." Levet was Johnson's constant and attentive + companion, for near forty years; he was a practitioner in physic, + among the lower class of people, in London. Humanity, rather than + desire of gain, seems to have actuated this single hearted and + amiable being; and never were the virtues of charity recorded in + more touching strains. "I am acquainted," says Dr. Drake, "with + nothing superior to them in the productions of the moral muse." See + Drake's Literary Life of Johnson; and Boswell, i. ii. iii. iv.--ED. + + +EPITAPH ON CLAUDE PHILLIPS, +AN ITINERANT MUSICIAN[a]. + +Phillips! whose touch harmonious could remove +The pangs of guilty pow'r, and hapless love, +Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more, +Find here that calm thou gay'st so oft before; +Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine, +Till angels wake thee, with a note like thine. + +[a] These lines are among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies: they are, + nevertheless, recognised as Johnson's, in a memorandum of his + handwriting, and were probably written at her request. This Phillips + was a fiddler, who travelled up and down Wales, and was much + celebrated for his skill. The above epitaph, according to Mr. + Boswell, won the applause of lord Kames, prejudiced against Johnson + as he was. It was published in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, and + was, at first, ascribed to Garrick, from its appearing with the + signature G.--Garrick, however, related, that they were composed, + almost impromptu, by Johnson, on hearing some lines on the subject, + by Dr. Wilkes, which he disapproved. See Boswell, i. 126, where is, + likewise, preserved an epigram, by Johnson, on Colley Cibber and + George the second, whose illiberal treatment of artists and learned + men was a constant theme of his execration. As it has not yet been + inserted among Johnson's works, we will present it to the readers of + the present edition, in this note. + + +EPITAPHIUM[a] +IN +THOMAM HANMER, BARONETTUM. + +Honorabilis admodum THOMAS HANMER, +Baronnettus, + +Augustus still survives in Maro's strain, +And Spenser's verse prolongs Eliza's reign; +Great George's acts let tuneful Gibber sing; +For nature formed the poet for the king. + +Wilhelmi Hanmer armigeri, e Peregrina Henrici +North +De Mildenhall, in Com. Suffolciae, baronetti sorore +et haerede, +Filius; +Johannis Hanmer de Hanmer baronetti +Haeres patruelis +Antiquo gentis suae et titulo et patrimonio successit. +Duas uxores sortitus est; +Alteram Isabellam, honore a patre derivato, de +Arlington comitissam, +Deinde celsissimi principis, ducis de Grafton, viduam +dotariam: +Alteram Elizabetham, Thomae Foulkes de Barton, in +Com. Suff. armigeri +Filiam et haeredem. +Inter humanitatis studia feliciter enutritus, +Omnes liberalium artium disciplinas avide arripuit, +Quas morum suavitate baud leviter ornavit, +Postquam excessit ex ephebis, +Continuo inter populares suos fama eminens, +Et comitatus sui legatus ad parliamentum missus, +Ad ardua regni negotia, per annos prope triginta, +se accinxit: +Cumque, apud illos amplissimorum virorum ordines, +Solent nihil temere effutire, +Sed probe perpensa diserte expromere, +Orator gravis et pressus, +Non minus integritatis quam eloquentiae laude +commendatus, +Aeque omnium, utcunque inter se alioqui dissidentium, +Aures atque arrimos attraxit. +Annoque demum M.DCC.XIII. regnante Anna, +Felicissimae florentissimaeque memoriae regina, +Ad prolocutoris cathedram, +Communi senatus universi voce, designatus est: +Quod munus, +Cum nullo tempore non difficile, +Tum illo certe, negotiis +Et variis, et lubricis, et implicatis, difficillimum, +Cum dignitate sustinuit. +Honores alios, et omnia quae sibi in lucrum cederent +munera, +Sedulo detrectavit, +Ut rei totus inserviret publicae; +Justi rectique tenax, +Et fide in patriam incorrupta notus. +Ubi omnibus, quae virum civemque bonum decent, +officiis satisfecisset, +Paulatim se a publicis consiliis in otium recipiens, +Inter literarum amoenitates, +Inter ante-actae vitae baud insuaves recordationes, +Inter amicorum convictus et amplexus, +Honorifice consenuit; +Et bonis omnibus, quibus charissimus vixit, +Desideratissimus obiit. +Hie, juxta cineres avi, suos condi voluit, et curavit +Gulielmus Bunbury B'ttus, nepos et haeres. + + +PARAPHRASE OF THE ABOVE EPITAPH. +BY DR. JOHNSON (b). + +Thou, who survey'st these walls with curious eye, +Pause at the tomb, where Hanmer's ashes lie; +His various worth, through vary'd life, attend, +And learn his virtues, while thou mourn'st his end. + His force of genius burn'd, in early youth, +With thirst of knowledge, and with love of truth; +His learning, join'd with each endearing art, +Charm'd ev'ry ear, and gain'd on ev'ry heart. + Thus early wise, th' endanger'd realm to aid, +His country call'd him from the studious shade; +In life's first bloom his publick toils began, +At once commenc'd the senator and man. +In bus'ness dext'rous, weighty in debate, +Thrice ten long years he labour'd for the state; +In ev'ry speech persuasive wisdom flow'd, +In ev'ry act refulgent virtue glow'd: +Suspended faction ceas'd from rage and strife, +To hear his eloquence, and praise his life. +Resistless merit fix'd the senate's choice, +Who hail'd him speaker, with united voice. +Illustrious age! how bright thy glories shone, +When Hanmer fill'd the chair--and Anne the throne! +Then, when dark arts obscur'd each fierce debate, +When mutual frauds perplex'd the maze of state, +The moderator firmly mild appear'd-- +Beheld with love--with veneration heard. +This task perform'd--he sought no gainful post, +Nor wish'd to glitter, at his country's cost: +Strict on the right he fix'd his steadfast eye, +With temp'rate zeal and wise anxiety; +Nor e'er from virtue's paths was lur'd aside, +To pluck the flow'rs of pleasure, or of pride. +Her gifts despis'd, corruption blush'd, and fled, +And fame pursu'd him, where conviction led. +Age call'd, at length, his active mind to rest, +With honour sated, and with cares oppress'd; +To letter'd ease retir'd, and honest mirth, +To rural grandeur and domestick worth; +Delighted still to please mankind, or mend, +The patriot's fire yet sparkled in the friend. +Calm conscience, then, his former life survey'd, +And recollected toils endear'd the shade, +Till nature call'd him to the gen'ral doom, +And virtue's sorrow dignified his tomb. + +[a] At Hanmer church, in Flintshire. +[b] This paraphrase is inserted in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. The + Latin is there said to be written by Dr. Freind. Of the person whose + memory it celebrates, a copious account may be seen in the appendix + to the supplement to the Biographia Britannica. + + +TO MISS HICKMAN[a], +PLAYING ON THE SPINET. + +Bright Stella, form'd for universal reign, +Too well you know to keep the slaves you gain; +When in your eyes resistless lightnings play, +Aw'd into love our conquer'd hearts obey, +And yield reluctant to despotick sway: +But, when your musick sooths the raging pain, +We bid propitious heav'n prolong your reign, +We bless the tyrant, and we hug the chain. +When old Timotheus struck the vocal string, +Ambition's fury fir'd the Grecian king: +Unbounded projects lab'ring in his mind, +He pants for room, in one poor world confin'd. +Thus wak'd to rage, by musick's dreadful pow'r, +He bids the sword destroy, the flame devour. +Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre, +Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire; +No more delighted with destructive war, +Ambitious only now to please the fair, +Resign'd his thirst of empire to her charms, +And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms. + +[a] These lines, which have been communicated by Dr. Turton, son to Mrs. + Turton, the lady to whom they are addressed by her maiden name of + Hickman, must have been written, at least, as early as 1734, as that + was the year of her marriage: at how much earlier a period of Dr. + Johnson's life they might have been written, is not known. + + +PARAPHRASE OF PROVERBS, CHAP. VI. +VERSES 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. + +_"Go to the ant, thou sluggard[a]_." + +Turn on the prudent ant thy heedful eyes, +Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise: +No stern command, no monitory voice, +Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice; +Yet, timely provident, she hastes away, +To snatch the blessings of the plenteous day; +When fruitful summer loads the teeming plain, +She crops the harvest, and she stores the grain. +How long shall sloth usurp thy useless hours, +Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy pow'rs; +While artful shades thy downy couch inclose, +And soft solicitation courts repose? +Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight, +Year chases year with unremitted flight, +Till want now following, fraudulent and slow, +Shall spring to seize thee like an ambush'd foe. + +[a] First printed in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII. TRANSLATED. + + The snow, dissolv'd, no more is seen, +The fields and woods, behold! are green; +The changing year renews the plain, +The rivers know their banks again; +The sprightly nymph and naked grace +The mazy dance together trace; +The changing year's successive plan +Proclaims mortality to man; +Rough winter's blasts to spring give way, +Spring yields to summer's sov'reign ray; +Then summer sinks in autumn's reign, +And winter chills the world again; +Her losses soon the moon supplies, +But wretched man, when once he lies +Where Priam and his sons are laid, +Is nought but ashes and a shade. +Who knows if Jove, who counts our score, +Will toss us in a morning more? +What with your friend you nobly share, +At least you rescue from your heir. +Not you, Torquatus, boast of Rome, +When Minos once has fixed your doom, +Or eloquence, or splendid birth, +Or virtue, shall restore to earth. +Hippolytus, unjustly slain, +Diana calls to life in vain; +Nor can the might of Theseus rend +The chains of hell that hold his friend. +Nov. 1784. + + + +The following translations, parodies, and burlesque verses, most of them +extempore, are taken from Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, published by Mrs. +Piozzi. + + +ANACREON, ODE IX. + +Lovely courier of the sky, +Whence and whither dost thou fly? +Scatt'ring, as thy pinions play, +Liquid fragrance all the way: +Is it business? is it love? +Tell me, tell me, gentle dove. +Soft Anacreon's vows I bear, +Vows to Myrtale the fair; +Grac'd with all that charms the heart, +Blushing nature, smiling art. +Venus, courted by an ode, +On the bard her dove bestow'd: +Vested with a master's right, +Now Anacreon rules my flight; +His the letters that you see, +Weighty charge, consign'd to me: +Think not yet my service hard, +Joyless task without reward; +Smiling at my master's gates, +Freedom my return awaits; +But the lib'ral grant in vain +Tempts me to be wild again. +Can a prudent dove decline +Blissful bondage such as mine? +Over hills and fields to roam, +Fortune's guest without a home; +Under leaves to hide one's head +Slightly shelter'd, coarsely fed: +Now my better lot bestows +Sweet repast and soft repose; +Now the gen'rous bowl I sip, +As it leaves Anacreon's lip: +Void of care, and free from dread, +From his fingers snatch his bread; +Then, with luscious plenty gay, +Round his chamber dance and play; +Or from wine, as courage springs, +O'er his face extend my wings; +And when feast and frolick tire, +Drop asleep upon his lyre. +This is all, be quick and go, +More than all thou canst not know; +Let me now my pinions ply, +I have chatter'd like a pie. + + +LINES +WRITTEN IN RIDICULE OF CERTAIN POEMS +PUBLISHED IN 1777. + +Wheresor'er I turn my view, +All is strange, yet nothing new; +Endless labour all along, +Endless labour to be wrong; +Phrase that time hath flung away, +Uncouth words in disarray, +Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet, +Ode, and elegy, and sonnet. + + +PARODY OF A TRANSLATION. +FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES. + +Err shall they not, who resolute explore +Times gloomy backward with judicious eyes; +And, scanning right the practices of yore, +Shall deem our hoar progenitors unwise. + +They to the dome, where smoke, with curling play, +Announc'd the dinner to the regions round, +Summon'd the singer blithe, and harper gay, +And aided wine with dulcet-streaming sound. + +The better use of notes, or sweet or shrill, +By quiv'ring string or modulated wind; +Trumpet or lyre--to their harsh bosoms chill +Admission ne'er had sought, or could not find. + +Oh! send them to the sullen mansions dun, +Her baleful eyes where sorrow rolls around; +Where gloom-enamour'd mischief loves to dwell, +And murder, all blood-bolter'd, schemes the wound. + +When cates luxuriant pile the spacious dish, +And purple nectar glads the festive hour; +The guest, without a want, without a wish, +Can yield no room to musick's soothing pow'r. + + +TRANSLATION +FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES, V. 196[a] + +The rites deriv'd from ancient days, +With thoughtless reverence we praise; +The rites that taught us to combine +The joys of musick and of wine, +And bade the feast, and song, and bowl +O'erfill the saturated soul: +But ne'er the flute or lyre applied +To cheer despair, or soften pride; +Nor call'd them to the gloomy cells +Where want repines and vengeance swells; +Where hate sits musing to betray, +And murder meditates his prey. +To dens of guilt and shades of care, +Ye sons of melody repair, +Nor deign the festive dome to cloy +With superfluities of joy. +Ah! little needs the minstrel's power +To speed the light convivial hour. +The board, with varied plenty crown'd, +May spare the luxuries of sound[b]. + +[a] The classical reader will, doubtless, be pleased to see the + exquisite original in immediate comparison with this translation; + we, therefore, subjoin it, and also Dr. J. Warton's imitation of + the same passage. + + [Greek:] + skaious de legon kouden ti sophous + tous prosthe brotous, ouk an amartois + oitines umnous epi men thaliais, + epi d'eilapinais kai para deipnois + euronto biou terpnas akoas + stugious de broton oudeis pulas + eureto mousae kai poluchordois + odais pauein, exon thanatoi + deinai te tuchai sphallonsi domous + kaitoi tade men kerdos akeisthai + molpaisi brotous ina d'endeipnoi + daites ti mataen teinousi boan + to paron gar echei terpsin aph auton + daitos plaeroma brotaoisin + MEDEA, 193--206. ED. PORS + + Queen of every moving measure, + Sweetest source of purest pleasure, + Music! why thy pow'rs employ + Only for the sons of joy; + Only for the smiling guests, + At natal or at nuptial feasts? + Rather thy lenient numbers pour + On those, whom secret griefs devour, + Bid be still the throbbing hearts + Of those whom death or absence parts, + And, with some softly whisper'd air, + Sooth the brow of dumb despair. + +[b] This translation was written by Johnson for his friend Dr. Burney, + and was inserted, as the work of "a learned friend," in that + gentleman's History of Musick, vol. ii. p. 340. It has always been + ascribed to Johnson; but, to put the matter beyond a doubt, Mr. + Malone ascertained the fact by applying to Dr. Burney himself. J. B. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FIRST TWO STANZAS OF THE SONG "RIO +VERDE, RIO VERDE," PRINTED IN BISHOP PERCY'S +RELIQUES OF ANCIENT ENGLISH POETRY. + +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Glassy water, glassy water, + Down whose current, clear and strong, +Chiefs confused in mutual slaughter, + Moor and Christian roll along. + + +IMITATION OF THE STYLE OF ****. + +Hermit hoar, in solemn cell + Wearing out life's ev'ning grey, +Strike thy bosom, sage, and tell + What is bliss, and which the way. + +Thus I spoke, and speaking sigh'd, + Scarce repress'd the starting tear, +When the hoary sage reply'd, + Come, my lad, and drink some beer. + + +BURLESQUE +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES OF LOPEZ DE VEGA. +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Se a quien los leones vence + Vence una muger hermosa, +O el de flaco avergonze, + O ella di ser mas furiosa. + +If the man who turnips cries, +Cry not when his father dies, +'Tis a proof, that he had rather +Have a turnip than his father. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES AT THE END OF BARETTI'S +EASY PHRASEOLOGY. + +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Viva, viva la padrona! +Tutta bella, e tutta buona, +La padrona è un' angiolella +Tutta buona e tutta bella; +Tutta bella e tutta buona; +Viva! viva la padrona! + +Long may live my lovely Hetty! +Always young, and always pretty; +Always pretty, always young, +Live, my lovely Hetty, long! +Always young, and always pretty, +Long may live my lovely Hetty! + + +IMPROVISO TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING DISTICH ON THE DUKE OF MODENA'S +RUNNING AWAY FROM THE COMET IN 1742 OR 1743. + +Se al venir vostro i principi sen' vanno +Deh venga ogni di--durate un' anno. + +If at your coming princes disappear, +Comets! come every day--and stay a year. + + +IMPROVISO TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES OF M. BENSERADE A SON LIT. + +Theatre des ris, et des pleurs, +Lit! où je nais, et où je meurs, +Tu nous fais voir comment voisins +Sont nos plaisirs, et nos chagrins. + +In bed we laugh, in bed we cry, +And, born in bed, in bed we die; +The near approach a bed may show +Of human bliss to human woe. + + +EPITAPH FOR MR. HOGARTH. + +The hand of him here torpid lies, + That drew th' essential form of grace; +Here clos'd in death th' attentive eyes, + That saw the manners in the face. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES, WRITTEN UNDER A PRINT +REPRESENTING PERSONS SKATING. + +Sur un mince cristal l'hiver conduit leurs pas, + Le précipice est sous la glace: + Telle est de nos plaisirs la légère surface: +Glissez, mortels; n'appuyez pas. + +O'er ice the rapid skater flies, + With sport above, and death below; +Where mischief lurks in gay disguise, + Thus lightly touch and quickly go. + + +IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION OF THE SAME. + +O'er crackling ice, o'er gulfs profound, + With nimble glide the skaters play; +O'er treach'rous pleasure's flow'ry ground + Thus lightly skim, and haste away. + + +TO MRS. THRALE, +ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR. +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Oft in danger, yet alive, +We are come to thirty-five; +Long may better years arrive, +Better years than thirty-five! +Could philosophers contrive +Life to stop at thirty-five, +Time his hours should never drive +O'er the bounds of thirty-five. +High to soar, and deep to dive, +Nature gives at thirty-five. +Ladies, stock and tend your hive, +Trifle not at thirty-five; +For, howe'er we boast and strive. +Life declines from thirty-five. +He that ever hopes to thrive +Must begin by thirty-five; +And all, who wisely wish to wive, +Must look on Thrale at thirty-five. + + +IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION +OF AN AIR IN THE CLEMENZA DI TITO OF +METASTASIO, +BEGINNING "DEH SE PIACERMI VUOI." + +Would you hope to gain my heart, +Bid your teasing doubts depart; +He, who blindly trusts, will find +Faith from ev'ry gen'rous mind: +He, who still expects deceit, +Only teaches how to cheat. + + +TRANSLATION +OF A SPEECH OF AQUILEIO, IN THE ADRIANO OF METASTASIO, +BEGINNING "TU CHE IN CORTE INVECCHIASTI[a]." + +Grown old in courts, thou surely art not one +Who keeps the rigid rules of ancient honour; +Well skill'd to sooth a foe with looks of kindness, +To sink the fatal precipice before him, +And then lament his fall, with seeming friendship: +Open to all, true only to thyself, +Thou know'st those arts, which blast with envious praise, +Which aggravate a fault, with feign'd excuses, +And drive discountenanc'd virtue from the throne; +That leave the blame of rigour to the prince, +And of his ev'ry gift usurp the merit; +That hide, in seeming zeal, a wicked purpose, +And only build upon another's ruin. + +[a] The character of Cali, in Irene, is a masterly sketch of the old and + practised dissembler of a despotic court,--ED. + + +BURLESQUE +OF THE MODERN VERSIFICATIONS OF ANCIENT +LEGENDARY TALES. AN IMPROMPTU. + +The tender infant, meek and mild, + Fell down upon the stone: +The nurse took up the squealing child, + But still the child squeal'd on. + + +FRIENDSHIP; +AN ODE[a]. + +Friendship, peculiar boon of heaven, + The noble mind's delight and pride, +To men and angels only given, + To all the lower world deny'd. + +While love, unknown among the blest, + Parent of thousand wild desires[b], +The savage and the human breast + Torments alike with raging fires[c]; + +With bright, but oft destructive, gleam, + Alike, o'er all his lightnings fly; +Thy lambent glories only beam + Around the fav'rites of the sky. + +Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys + On fools and villains ne'er descend; +In vain for thee the tyrant sighs[d], + And hugs a flatt'rer for a friend. + +Directress of the brave and just[e], + O! guide us through life's darksome way! +And let the tortures of mistrust + On selfish bosoms only prey. + +Nor shall thine ardours cease to glow[f], + When souls to blissful climes remove: +What rais'd our virtue here below, + Shall aid our happiness above. + +[a] This ode originally appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1743. + See Boswell's Life of Johnson, under that year. It was afterwards + printed in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, in 1766, with several + variations, which are pointed out, below.--J.B. +[b] Parent of rage and hot desires.--Mrs. W. +[c] Inflames alike with equal fires. +[d] In vain for thee the _monarch_ sighs. +[e] This stanza is omitted in Mrs. William's Miscellanies, and instead + of it, we have the following, which may be suspected, from internal + evidence, not to have been Johnson's: + + When virtues, kindred virtues meet, + And sister-souls together join, + Thy pleasures permanent, as great, + Are all transporting--all divine. + +[f] O! shall thy flames then cease to glow. + + +ON SEEING A BUST OF MRS. MONTAGUE. + +Had this fair figure, which this frame displays, +Adorn'd in Roman time the brightest days, +In every dome, in every sacred place, +Her statue would have breath'd an added grace, +And on its basis would have been enroll'd, +"This is Minerva, cast in virtue's mould." + + +IMPROVISO +ON A YOUNG HEIR'S COMING OF AGE + +Long expected one-and-twenty, + Ling'ring year, at length is flown; +Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty, + Great----, are now your own. + +Loosen'd from the minor's tether, + Free to mortgage or to sell; +Wild as wind, and light as feather, + Bid the sons of thrift farewell. + +Call the Betseys, Kates, and Jennies, + All the names that banish care; +Lavish of your grandsire's guineas, + Show the spirit of an heir. + +All that prey on vice or folly + Joy to see their quarry fly: +There the gamester light and jolly, + There the lender grave and sly. + +Wealth, my lad, was made to wander, + Let it wander as it will; +Call the jockey, call the pander, + Bid them come, and take their fill. + +When the bonny blade carouses, + Pockets full, and spirits high-- +What are acres? what are houses? + Only dirt, or wet or dry. + +Should the guardian friend, or mother + Tell the woes of wilful waste; +Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother, + You can hang or drown at last. + + + +EPITAPHS. + + +AT LICHFIELD. +H. S. E. +MICHAEL JOHNSON, + +VIR impavidus, constans, animosus, periculorum immemor, +laborum patientissimus; fiducia christiana fortis, fervidusque; +paterfamilias apprime strenuus; bibliopola admodum +peritus; mente et libris et negotiis exculta; animo ita +firmo, ut, rebus adversis diu conflictatus, nec sibi nec suis +defuerit; lingua sic temperata, ut ei nihil quod aures vel +pias vel castas laesisset, aut dolor vel voluptas unquam +expresserit. + +Natus Cubleiae, in agro Derbiensi, anno MDCLVI; obijt +MDCCXXXI. + +Apposita est SARA, conjux, + +Antiqua FORDORUM gente oriunda; quam domi sedulam, +foris paucis notam; nulli molestam, mentis acumine +et judicii subtilitate praecellentem; aliis multum, sibi parum +indulgentem: aeternitati semper attentam, omne fere +virtutis nomen commendavit. + +Nata Nortoniae Regis, in agro Varvicensi, anno +MDCLXIX; obijt MDCCLIX. + +Cum NATHANAELE, illorum filio, qui natus MDCCXII. +cum vires et animi et corporis multa pollicerentur, anno +MDCCXXXVII. vitam brevem pia morte finivit. + + +IN BROMLEY CHURCH. +HIC conduntur reliquae +ELIZABETHAE +Antiqua JARVISIORUM gente +Peatlingae, apud Leicestrenses, ortae; +Formosae, cultae, ingeniosae, piae; +Uxoris, primis nuptiis, HENRICI PORTER, +secundis, SAMUELIS JOHNSON, +Qui multum amatam, diuque defletam, +Hoc lapide contexit. +Obijt Londini, mense Mart. +A. D. MDCCLIII. + + +IN WATFORD CHURCH. + +In the vault below are deposited the remains of +JANE BELL[a], wife of JOHN BELL, esq. +who, in the fifty-third year of her age, +surrounded with many worldly blessings, +heard, with fortitude and composure truly great, +the horrible malady, which had, for some time, begun to +afflict her, +pronounced incurable; +and for more than three years, +endured with patience, and concealed with decency, +the daily tortures of gradual death; +continued to divide the hours not allotted to devotion, +between the cares of her family, and the converse of +her friends; +rewarded the attendance of duty, +and acknowledged the offices of affection; +and, while she endeavoured to alleviate by cheerfulness +her husband's sufferings and sorrows, +increased them by her gratitude for his care, +and her solicitude for his quiet. +To the testimony of these virtues, +more highly honoured, as more familiarly known, +this monument is erected by +JOHN BELL. + +[a] She died in October, 1771. + + +IN STRETHAM CHURCH. + +Juxta sepulta est HESTERA MARIA, +Thomae Cotton de Combermere, baronetti Cestriensis, +filia, +Johannis Salusbury, armigeri Flintiensis, uxor, +Forma felix, felix ingenio; +Omnibus jucunda, suorum amantissima. +Linguis artibusque ita exeulta, +Ut loquenti nunquam deessent +Sermonis nitor, sententiarum flosculi, +Sapientiae gravitas, leporum gratia: +Modum servandi adeo perita, +Ut domestica inter negotia literis oblectaretur; +Literarum inter delicias, rem familiarem sedulo curaret. +Multis illi multos annos precantibus +diri carcinomatis venene contabuit, +nexibusque vitae paulatim resolutis, +e terris, meliora sperans, emigravit. +Nata 1707. Nupta 1739. Obijt 1773. + + +IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. + +OLIVARII GOLDSMITH, +Poetae, Physici, Historici, +Qui nullum fere scribendi genus +Non tetigit, +Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit: +Sive risus essent movendi, +Sive lacrimae, +Affectuum potens, at lenis, dominator: +Ingenio sublimis, vividus, versatilis, +Oratione grandis, nitidus, venustus: +Hoc monumento memoriam coluit +Sodalium amor, +Amicorum fides, +Lectorum veneratio. +Elfiniae, in Hibernia, natus MDCCXXIX. +Eblauae literis institutus: +Londini obijt MDCCLXXIV [a]. + +[a] This is the epitaph, that drew from Gibbon, sir J. Reynolds, +Sheridan, Joseph Warton, &c. the celebrated _Round Robin_, composed by +Burke, intreating Johnson to write an English epitaph on an English +author. His reply was, in the genuine spirit of an old scholar, "he +would never consent to disgrace the walls of Westminster abbey with an +English inscription." One of his arguments, in favour of a common +learned language, was ludicrously cogent: "Consider, sir, how you should +feel, were you to find, at Rotterdam, an epitaph, upon Erasmus, _in +Dutch_!" Boswell, iii. He would, however, undoubtedly have written a +better epitaph in English, than in Latin. His compositions in that +language are not of first rate excellence, either in prose or verse. The +epitaph, in Stretham church, on Mr. Thrale, abounds with inaccuracies; +and those who are fond of detecting little blunders in great men, may be +amply gratified in the perusal of a review of Thrale's epitaph in the +Classical Journal, xii. 6. His Greek epitaph on Goldsmith, is not +remarkable in itself, but we will subjoin it, in this place, as a +literary curiosity. + +[Greek:] +Thon taphon eisoraas thon OLIBARIOIO, koniaen + Aphrosi mae semnaen, xeine, podessi patei. +Oisi memaele phusis, metron charis, erga palaion, + Klaiete poiaetaen, istorikon, phusikon. + --ED. + + +IN STRETHAM CHURCH. + +Hie conditur quod reliquum est +HENRICI THRALE, +Qui res seu civiles, seu domesticas, ita egit, +Ut vitam illi longiorem multi optarent; +Ita sacras, +Ut quam brevem esset habiturus praescire videretur; +Simplex, apertus, sibique semper similis, +Nihil ostentavit aut arte fictum, aut cura +elaboratum. +In senatu, regi patriaeque +Fideliter studuit, +Vulgi obstrepentis contemptor animosus; +Domi, inter mille mercaturae negotia, +Literarum elegantiam minime neglexit. +Amicis, quocunque modo laborantibus, +Consiliis, auctoritate, muneribus, adfuit. +Inter familiares, comites, convivas, hospites, +Tam facili fuit morum suavitate +Ut omnium animos ad se alliceret; +Tam felici sermonis libertate, +Ut nulli adulatus, omnibus placeret. +Natus 1724. Obijt 1781. +Consortes tumuli habet Rodolphum, patrem, strenuum +fortemque virum, et Henricum, filium unicum, quem +spei parentum mors inopiua decennem proripuit. +Ita +Domus felix et opulenta quam erexit +Avus, auxitque pater, cum nepote decidit. +Abi, Viator, +Et, vicibus rerum humanarum perspectis, +Aeternitatem cogita! + + + + +POEMATA + + +MESSIA [a]. + +Ex alieno ingenio poeta, ex suo tantum versificator. +SCALIG. Poet. + +Tollite concentum, Solymaeae tollite nymphae, +Nil mortale loquor; coelum mihi carminis alta +Materies; poscunt gravius coelestia plectrum. +Muscosi fontes, sylvestria tecta, valete, +Aonidesque deae, et mendacis somnia Pindi: +Tu, mihi, qui flamma movisti pectora sancti +Siderea Isaiae, dignos accende furores! + Immatura calens rapitur per secula vates +Sic orsus--Qualis rerum mihi nascitur ordo! +Virgo! virgo parit! Felix radicibus arbor +Jessaeis surgit, mulcentesque sethera flores +Coelestes lambunt animae, ramisque columba, +Nuncia sacra Dei, plaudentibus insidet alis. +Nectareos rores, alimentaque mitia coelum +Praebeat, et tacite foecundos irriget imbres. +Hue, foedat quos lepra, urit quos febris, adeste, +Dia salutares spirant medicamina rami; +Hic requies fessis: non sacra sacvit in umbra +Vis boreae gelida, aut rapidi violeutia solis. +Irrita vanescent priscae vestigia fraudis, +Justitiaeque manus, pretio intemerata, bilancem +Attollet reducis; bellis praetendet olivas +Compositis pax alma suas, terrasque revisens +Sedatas niveo virtus lucebit amictu.-- +Volvantur celeres anni! lux purpuret ortum +Expectata diu! naturae claustra refringens, +Nascere, magne puer! tibi primas, ecce, corollas +Deproperat tellus, fundit tibi munera, quicquid +Carpit Arabs, hortis quicquid frondescit Eois; +Altius, en! Lebanon gaudentia culmina tollit; +En! summo exultant nutantes vertice sylvae: +Mittit aromaticas vallis Saronica nubes, +Et juga Carmeli recreant fragrantia coelum. +Deserti laeta mollescunt aspera voce: +Auditur Deus! ecce Deus! reboantia circum +Saxa sonant, Deus! ecce Deus! deflectitur aether, +Demissumque Deum tellus capit; ardua cedrus, +Gloria sylvarum, dominum inclinata salutet: +Surgite convalles, tumidi subsidite montes! +Sternite saxa viam, rapidi discedite fluctus; +En! quem turba diu cecinerunt enthea, vates, +En! salvator adest; vultus agnoscite, caeci, +Divinos, surdos sacra vox permulceat aures. +Ille cutim spissam visus hebetare vetabit, +Reclusisque oculis infundet amabile lumen; +Obstrictasque diu linguas in carmina solvet. +Ille vias vocis pandet, flexusque liquentis +Harmoniae purgata novos mirabitur auris. +Accrescunt teneris tactu nova robora nervis: +Consuetus fulcro innixus reptare bacilli +Nunc saltu capreas, nunc cursu provocat euros. +Non planctus, non moesta sonant suspiria; pectus +Singultans mulcet, lachrymantes tergit ocellos. +Vincla coercebunt luctantem adamantina mortem, +Aeternoque orci dominator vuluere languens +Invalidi raptos sceptri plorabit honores. +Ut, qua dulce strepunt scatebrse, qua lasta virescunt +Pascua, qua blandum spirat purissimus aer, +Pastor agit pecudes, teneros modo suscipit agnos, +Et gremio fotis selectas porrigit herbas, +Amissas modo quserit oves, revocatque vagantes; +Fidus adest custos, seu nox furat humida nimbis, +Sive dies medius morieutia torreat arva. +Postera sic pastor divinus secla beabit, +Et curas felix patrias testabitur orbis. +Non ultra infestis concurrent agmina signis, +Hostiles oculis flammas jaculantia torvis; +Non litui accendent bellum, non campus ahenis +Triste coruscabit radiis; dabit hasta recusa +Vomerem, et in falcem rigidus curvabitur ensis. +Atria, pacis opus, surgent, finemque caduci +Natus ad optatum perducet coepta parentis. +Qui duxit sulcos, illi teret area messem, +Et serae texent vites umbracula proli. +Attoniti dumeta vident inculta coloni +Suave rubere rosis, sitientesque inter arenas +Garrula mirantur salientis murmura rivi. +Per saxa, ignivomi nuper spelaea draconis, +Canna viret, juncique tremit variabilis umbra. +Horruit implexo qua vallis sente, figurae +Surgit amans abies teretis, buxique sequaces +Artificis frondent dextrae; palmisque rubeta +Aspera, odoratae cedunt mala gramiua myrto. +Per valles sociata lupo lasciviet agna, +Cumque leone petet tutus praesepe juvencus. +Florea mansuetae petulantes vincula tigri +Per ludum pueri injicient, et fessa colubri +Membra viatoris recreabunt frigore linguae. +Serpentes teneris nil jam lethale micantes +Tractabit palmis infans, motusque trisulcae +Bidebit linguae innocuos, squamasque virentes +Aureaque admirans rutilantis fulgura cristae. +Indue reginam, turritae frontis honores +Tolle Salema sacros, quam circum gloria pennas +Explicat, incinctam radiatae luce tiaras! +En! formosa tibi spatiosa per atria proles +Ordinibus surgit densis, vitamque requirit +Impatiens, lenteque fluentes increpat annos. +Ecce peregrinis fervent tua limina turbis; +Barbarus, en! clarum divino lumine templum +Ingreditur, cultuque tuo mansuescere gaudet. +Cinnameos cumulos, Nabathaei munera veris, +Ecce! cremant genibus tritae regalibus arae. +Solis Ophyraeis crudum tibi montibus aurum +Maturant radii; tibi balsama sudat Idume. +Aetheris en! portas sacro fulgore micantes +Coelicolae pandunt, torrentis aurea lucis +Flumina prorumpunt; non posthac sole rubescet +India nascenti, placidaeve argentea noctis +Luna vices revehet; radios pater ipse diei +Proferet archetypos; coelestis gaudia lucis +Ipso fonte bibes, quae circumfusa beatam +Regiam inundabit, nullis cessura tenebris. +Littora deficiens arentia deseret aequor; +Sidera fumabunt, diro labefaeta tremore +Saxa cadent, solidique liquescent robora montis: +Tu secura tamen confusa elementa videbis, +Laetaque Messia semper dominabere rege, +Pollicitis firmata Dei, stabilita ruinis. + +[a] This translation has been severely criticised by Dr. Warton, in his + edition of Pope, vol. i. p. 105, 8vo. 1797. It certainly contains + some expressions that are not classical. Let it be remembered, + however, that it was a college exercise, performed with great + rapidity, and was, at first, praised, beyond all suspicion of + defect--This translation was first published in a Miscellany of + Poems by several hands. Published by J. Husbands, A.M. fellow of + Pembroke college, Oxon. 8vo. Oxford, 1731. Of Johnson's production, + Mr. Husbands says, in his preface, "The translation of Mr. Pope's + Messiah was delivered to his tutor as a college exercise, by Mr. + Johnson, a commoner of Pembroke college in Oxford, and 'tis hoped + will be no discredit to the excellent original." Mr. Husbands died + in the following year. + + +[Jan. 20, 21, 1773.] + Vitae qui varias vices +Rerum perpetuus temperat arbiter, + Laeto cedere lumini +Noctis tristitiam qui gelidae jubet, + Acri sanguine turgidos, +Obductosque oculos nubibus humidis + Sanari voluit meos; +Et me, cuncta beaus cui nocuit dies, + Luci reddidit et mihi. +Qua te laude, Deus, qua prece prosequar? + Sacri discipulis libri +Te semper studiis utilibus colam: + Grates, summe pater, tuis +Recte qui fruitur muneribus, dedit. + + +[Dec. 25, 1779.] +Nunc dies Christo memoranda nato +Fulsit, in pectus mihi fonte purum +Gaudium sacro fluat, et benigni + Gratia coeli! + +Christe, da tutam trepido quietem, +Christe, spem praesta stabilem timenti; +Da fidem certam, precibusque fidis + Annue, Christe. + + +[In lecto, die passionis, Apr. 13, 1781.] +Summe Deus, qui semper amas quodcunque creasti; + Judice quo, scelerum est poenituisse salus: +Da veteres noxas animo sic flere novato, + Per Christum ut veniam sit reperire mihi. + + +[In lecto, Dec. 25, 1782.] +Spe non inani confugis, +Peccator, ad latus meum; +Quod poscis, hand unquam tibi +Negabitur solatium. + + +(Nocte, inter 16 et 17 Junii, 1783[a]) +Summe pater, quodcunque tuum[b] de corpore Numen[c] +Hoc statuat[d], precibus[e] Christus adesse velit: +Ingenio parcas, nee sit mihi culpa rogasse[f], +Qua solum potero parte, placere[g] tibi. + +[a] The night, above referred to by Dr. Johnson, was that, in which a + paralytic stroke had deprived him of his voice; and, in the anxiety + he felt, lest it should, likewise, have impaired his understanding, + he composed the above lines, and said, concerning them, that he + knew, at the time, that they were not good, but then, that he deemed + his discerning this to be sufficient for quieting the anxiety before + mentioned, as it showed him, that his power of judging was not + diminished. +[b] Al. tuae. +[c] Al. leges. +[d] Al. statuant. +[e] Al. votis. +[f] Al. precari. +[g] Al. litare. + + +[Cal. Jan. in lecto, ante lucem, 1784.] +Summe dator vitae, naturae aeterne magister, + Causarum series quo moderante fluit, +Respice quem subiget senium, morbique seniles, + Quem terret vitae meta propinqua suae, +Respice inutiliter lapsi quem poenitet aevi; + Recte ut poeniteat, respice, magne parens. + + +Pater benigne, summa semper lenitas, +Crimine gravatam plurimo mentem leva: +Concede veram poenitentiam, precor, +Concede agendam legibus vitam tuis. +Sacri vagantes luminis gressus face +Rege, et tuere; quae nocent pellens procul: +Veniam petenti, summe, da veniam, pater; +Veniaeque sancta pacis adde gaudia: +Sceleris ut expers, omni et vacuus metu, +Te, mente pura, mente tranquilla colam, +Mihi dona morte haec impetret Christus sua. + + +[Jan. 18, 1784.] +Summe pater, puro collustra lumine pectus, + Anxietas noceat ne tenebrosa mihi. +In me sparsa manu virtutum semina larga + Sic ale, proveniat messis ut ampla boni. +Noctes atque dies animo spes laeta recurset; + Certa mihi sancto flagret amore fides; +Certa vetat dubitare fides, spes laeta timere; + Velle vetet cuiquam non bene sanctus amor. +Da, ne sint permissa, pater, mihi praemia frustra, + Et colere, et leges semper amare tuas. +Haec mihi, quo gentes, quo secula, Christe, piasti, + Sanguine, precanti promereare tuo! + + +[Feb. 27, 1784.] +Mens mea, quid quereris? veniet tibi mollior hora, + In summo ut videas numine laeta patrem; +Divinam insontes iram placavit Iesus; + Nunc est pro poena poenituisse reis. + + +CHRISTIANUS PERFECTUS. + +Qui cupit in sanctos, Christo cogente, referri, +Abstergat mundi labem, nec gaudia carnis +Captans, nec fastu tumidus, semperque futuro +Instet, et evellens terroris spicula corde, +Suspiciat tandem clementem in numine patrem. + Huic quoque, nec genti nec sectae noxius ulli, +Sit sacer orbis amor, miseris qui semper adesse +Gestiat, et, nullo pietatis limite clausus, +Cunctorum ignoscat vitiis, pictate fruatur. +Ardeat huic toto sacer ignis pectore, possit +Ut vitam, poscat si res, impendere vero. + Cura placere Deo sit prima, sit ultima; sanctae +Irruptum vitae cupiat servare tenorem; +Et sibi, delirans quanquam et peccator in horas +Displiceat, servet tutum sub pectore rectum: +Nec natet, et nunc has partes, nunc eligat illas, +Nec dubitet quem dicat herum, sed, totus in uno, +Se fidum addicat Christo, mortalia temnens. + Sed timeat semper, caveatque ante omnia, turbae +Ne stolidae similis, leges sibi segreget audax +Quas servare velit, leges quas lentus omittat, +Plenum opus effugiens, aptans juga mollia collo, +Sponte sua demens; nihilum decedere summae +Vult Deus, at qui cuncta dedit tibi, cuncta reposcit. +Denique perpetuo contendit in ardua nisu, +Auxilioque Dei fretus, jam mente serena +Pergit, et imperiis sentit se dulcibus actum. +Paulatim mores, animum, vitamque refingit, +Effigiemque Dei, quantum servare licebit, +Induit, et, terris major, coelestia spirat. + + +Aeterne rerum conditor, +Salutis aeternae dator; +Felicitatis sedibus +Qui nec scelestos exigis, +Quoscumque scelerum poenitet; +Da, Christe, poenitentiam, +Veniamque, Christe, da mihi; +Aegrum trahenti spiritum +Succurre praesens corpori; +Multo gravatam crimine +Mentem benignus alleva. + + +Luce collustret mihi pectus alma, +Pellat et tristes animi tenebras, +Nec sinat semper tremere ac dolere, +Gratia Christi. + +Me pater tandem reducem benigno +Summus amplexu foveat, beato +Me gregi sanctus socium beatum +Spiritus addat. + + +JEJUNIUM ET CIBUS. + +Serviat ut menti corpus jejunia serva, +Ut mens utatur corpore, sume cibos. + + +AD URBANUM[a], 1738. +Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus, +Urbane, nullis victe calumniis, + Cui fronte sertum in erudita + Perpetuo viret, et virebit; +Quid moliatur gens imitantium, +Quid et minetur, solicitus parum, + Vacare solis perge musis, + Juxta animo, studiisque foelix. +Linguae procacis plumbea spicula, +Fidens, superbo frange silentio; + Victrix per obstantes catervas + Sedulitas animosa tendet. +Intende nervos fortis, inanibus +Risurus olim nisibus emuli; + Intende jam nervos, habebis + Participes opera Camoenas. +Non ulla musis pagina gratior, +Quam quae severis ludicra jungere + Novit, fatigatamque nugis + Utilibus recreare mentem. +Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, +Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat + Immista, sic Iris refulget + Aethereis variata fucis. + +[a] See Gent. Mag. vol. viii. p. 156; and see also the Introduction to + vol. liv. + + +IN RIVUM A MOLA STOANA LICHFELDIAE DIFFLUENTEM. + +Errat adhuc vitreus per prata virentia rivus, + Quo toties lavi membra tenella puer; +Hic delusa rudi frustrabar brachia motu, + Dum docuit, blanda voce, natare pater. +Fecerunt rami latebras, tenebrisque diurnis + Pendula secretas abdidit arbor aquas. +Nunc veteres duris periere securibus umbrae, + Longinquisque oculis nuda lavacra patent. +Lympha, tamen, cursus agit indefessa perennis, + Tectaque qua fluxit, nunc et aperta fluit. +Quid ferat externi velox, quid deterat aetas, + Tu quoque securus res age, Nise, tuas. + + +[Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON][a] +[Post Lexicon Anglicanum auctum et emendatum.] + +Lexicon ad finem longo luctamine tandem +Scaliger ut duxit, tenuis pertaesus opellae, +Vile indignatus studium, nugasque molestas +Ingemit exosus, scribendaque lexica mandat +Damnatis, poenam pro poenis omnibus unam. + Ille quidem recte, sublimis, doctus et acer, +Quem decuit majora sequi, majoribus aptum, +Qui veterum modo facta ducum, modo carmina vatum, +Gesserat, et quicquid virtus, sapientia quicquid +Dixerat, imperiique vices, coelique meatus, +Ingentemque animo seclorum volveret orbem. + Fallimur exemplis; temere sibi turba scholarum +Ima tuas credit permitti, Scaliger, iras. +Quisque suum norit modulum; tibi, prime virorum, +Ut studiis sperem, aut ausim par esse querelis, +Non mihi sorte datum; lenti seu sanguinis obsint +Frigora, seu nimium longo jacuisse veterno, +Sive mihi mentem dederit natura minorem. + Te sterili functum cura, vocumque salebris +Tuto eluctatum, spatiis sapientia dia +Excipit aethereis, ars omnis plaudit amico, +Linguarumque omni terra discordia concors +Multiplici reducem circumsonat ore magistrum. + Me, pensi immunis cum jam mihi reddor, inertis +Desidiae sors dura manet, graviorque labore +Tristis et atra quies, et tardae taedia vitae. +Nascuntur curis curae, vexatque dolorum +Importuna cohors, vacuae mala somnia mentis. +Nunc clamosa juvant nocturnae gaudia mensae, +Nunc loca sola placent; frustra te, somne, recumbens, +Alme voco, impatiens noctis, metuensque diei. +Omnia percurro trepidus, circum omnia lustro, +Si qua usquam pateat melioris semita vitae, +Nec quid again invenio; meditatus grandia, cogor +Notior ipse mihi fieri, incultumque fateri +Pectus, et ingenium vano se robore jactans. +Ingenium, nisi materiem doctrina ministrat, +Cessat inops rerum, ut torpet, si marmoris absit +Copia, Phidiaci foecunda potentia coeli. +Quicquid agam, quocunque ferar, conatibus obstat +Res angusta domi, et macrae penuria mentis. + Non rationis opes animus, nunc parta recensens +Conspicit aggestas, et se miratur in illis, +Nec sibi de gaza praesens quod postulat usus +Summus adesse jubet celsa dominator ab arce; +Non, operum serie seriem dum computat aevi, +Praeteritis fruitur, laetos aut sumit honores +Ipse sui judex, actae bene munera vitae; +Sed sua regna videns, loca nocte silentia late +Horret, ubi vanae species, umbraeque fugaces, +Et rerum volitant rarae per inane figurae. + Quid faciam? tenebrisne pigram damnare senectam +Restat? an accingar studiis gravioribus audax? +Aut, hoc si nimium est, tandem nova lexica poscam? + +[a] For a translation of this poem, see Murphy's Essay on the Life and + Genius of Dr. Johnson, prefixed to the present volume. + + +AD THOMAM LAURENCE, +MEDICUM DOCTISSIMUM, + +Cum filium peregre agentem desiderio nimis tristi prosequeretur. + +Fateris ergo, quod populus solet +Crepare vecors, nil sapientiam + Prodesse vitae, literasque + In dubiis dare terga rebus. + +Tu, queis laborat sors hominum, mala +Nec vincis acer, nee pateris pius; + Te mille succorum potentem + Destituit medicina mentis. + +Per caeca noctis taedia turbidae, +Pigrae per horas lucis inutiles, + Torpesque, languescisque, curis + Solicitus nimis heu! paternis. + +Tandem dolori plus satis est datum, +Exsurge fortis, nunc animis opus, + Te, docta, Laurenti, vetustas, + Te medici revocant labores. + +Permitte summo quicquid habes patri, +Permitte fidens; et muliebribus, + Amice, majorem querelis + Redde tuis, tibi redde, mentem. + + +IN THEATRO, MARCH 8, 1771. + +Tertii verso quater orbe lustri, +Quid theatrales tibi, Crispe, pompae? +Quam decet canos male litteratos + Sera voluptas! + +Tene mulceri fidibus canoris? +Tene cantorum modulis stupere? +Tene per pictas, oculo elegante, + Currere formas? + +Inter aequales, sine felle liber, +Codices, veri studiosus, inter +Rectius vives. Sua quisque carpat + Gaudia gratus. + +Lusibus gaudet puer otiosis, +Luxus oblectat juvenem theatri, +At seni fluxo sapienter uti + Tempore restat. + + +INSULA KENNETHI, INTER HEBRIDAS. + +Parva quidem regio, sed religione priorum + Clara, Caledonias panditur inter aquas. +Voce ubi Cennethus populos domuisse feroces + Dicitur, et vanos dedocuisse deos. +Huc ego delatus placido per caerulea cursu, + Scire locus volui quid daret iste novi. +Illic Leniades humili regnabat in aula, + Leniades, magnis nobilitatus avis. +Una duas cepit casa cum genitore puellas, + Quas amor undarum crederet esse deas. +Nec tamen inculti gelidis latuere sub antris, + Accola Danubii qualia saevus habet. +Mollia non desunt vacuae solatia vitae, + Sive libros poscant otia, sive lyram. +Fulserat ilia dies, legis qua docta supernae + Spes hominum et curas gens procul esse jubet. +Ut precibus justas avertat numinis iras, + Et summi accendat pectus amore boni. +Ponte inter strepitus non sacri munera cultus + Cessarunt, pietas hic quoque cura fuit: +Nil opus est aeris sacra de turre sonantis + Admonitu, ipsa suas nunciat hora vices. +Quid, quod sacrifici versavit foemina libros. + Sint pro legitimis pura labella sacris-- +Quo vagor ulterius? quod ubique requiritur hic est; + Hic secura quies, hic et honestus amor. + + +SKIA. + +Ponti profundis clausa recessibus, +Strepens procellis, rupibus obsita, +Quam grata defesso virentem, +Skia, sinum nebulosa pandis! + +His cura, credo, sedibus exulat; +His blanda certe pax habitat locis; + Non ira, non moeror quietis + Insidias meditatur horis. + +At non cavata rupe latescere, +Menti nec aegrae montibus aviis + Prodest vagari, nec frementes + In specula numerare fluctus. + +Humana virtus non sibi sufficit; +Datur nec aequum cuique animum sibi + Parare posse, utcunque jactet + Grandiloquus nimis alta Zeno. + +Exaestuantis pectoris impetum, +Rex summe, solus tu regis, arbiter; + Mentisque, te tollente, fluctus; + Te, resident, moderante fluctus. + + +ODE DE SKIA INSULA. + +Permeo terras, ubi nuda rupes +Saxeas miscet nebulis ruinas, +Torva ubi rident steriles coloni + Rura labores. + +Pervagor gentes hominum ferorum, +Vita ubi nullo decorata cultu +Squallet informis, tugurique fumis + Foeda latescit. + +Inter erroris salebrosa longi, +Inter ignotae strepitus loquelae, +Quot modis, mecum, quid agat, requiro, + Thralia dulcis? + +Seu viri curas pia nupta mulcet, +Seu fovet mater sobolem benigna, +Sive cum libris novitate pascit + Sedula mentem. + +Sit memor nostri, fideique solvat +Fida mercedem, meritoque blandum +Thraliae discant resonare nomen + Littora Skiae. + + +SPES. + +Apr. 16, 1783. + +Hora sic peragit citata cursum; +Sic diem sequitur dies fugacem! +Spes novas nova lux parit, secunda +Spondens omnia credulis homullis; +Spes ludit stolidas, metuque caeco +Lux angit, miseros ludens homullos. + + +VERSUS COLLARI CAPRAE DOMINI BANKS INSCRIBENDI. + +Perpetui, ambita bis terra, praemia lactis + Haec habet, altrici capra secunda Jovis. + + +AD FOEMINAM QUANDAM GENEROSAM QUAE LIBERTATIS +CAUSAE IN SERMONE PATROCINATA FUERAT. + +Liber ut esse velim, suasisti, pulchra Maria: + Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria, vale. + + +JACTURA TEMPORIS. + +Hora perit furtim laetis, mens temporis aegra + Pigritiam incusat, nec minus hora perit. + +Quas navis recipit, quantum sit pondus aquarum, + Dimidrum tanti ponderis intret onus. + +Quot vox missa pedes abit, horae parte secunda? + Undecies centum denos quater adde duosque. + + +[Greek: Eis BIRCHION][a] + +[Greek:] +Eiden Alaetheiae proaen chairousa graphonta + Haeroon te bious Birchion, aede sophon +Kai bion, eipen, hotan rhipsaes thanatoio belessi, + Sou pote grapsomenon Birchion allon echois. + +[a] The rev. Dr. Thomas Birch, author of the History of the Royal + Society, and other works of note. + + +[Greek:] Eis to taes ELISSAES peri ton oneiron ainigma.[a] +Tae kallous dunamei ti telos; Zeus panta dedoken + Kupridi, und' autou skaeptra memaele theo. +Aek Dios estin Onap, theios pot' egrapsen Homaeros, + Alla tod' eis thnaetous Kupris epempsen onar +Zeus mounos phlogoenti poleis ekperse kerauno, + Ommasi lampra Dios Kupris oista pherei. + +[a] When Johnson had composed this Greek epigram to Mrs. Elizabeth + Carter, he said, in a letter to Cave, "I think she ought to be + celebrated in as many different languages as Louis le grand." His + admiration of her learning was so great, that when he wished to + praise the acquirements of any one excessively, he remarked that, he + knew as much Greek almost as Mrs. Carter. The verses in Elizae + Aenigma are addressed to the same excellent and accomplished lady. + It is now nearly an insult to add, that she translated Epictetus, + and contributed Nos. 44 and 100, to the Rambler. See Boswell, i. + iii. and iv. and preface to Rambler, ii.--ED. + + +IN ELIZAE AENIGMA. + +Quis formae modus imperio? Venus arrogat audax + Omnia, nec curae sunt sua sceptra Jovi. +Ab Jove Maeonides descendere somnia narrat: + Haec veniunt Cypriae somnia missa Deae. +Jupiter unus erat, qui stravit fulmine gentes; + Nunc armant Veneris lumina tela Jovis. + +[a]O! Qui benignus crimina ignoscis, pater, + Facilisque semper confitenti ades reo, +Aurem faventem precibus O! praebe meis; + Scelerum catena me laborantem grave +Aeterna tandem liberet clementia, + Ut summa laus sit, summa Christo gloria. + +Per vitae tenebras rerumque incerta vagantem + Numine praesenti me tueare, pater! +Me ducat lux sancta, Deus, lux sancta sequatur; + Usque regat gressus gratia fida meos. +Sic peragam tua jussa libens, accinctus ad omne + Mandatum vivam, sic moriarque tibi. + +Me, pater omnipotens, de puro respice coelo, + Quem moestum et timidum crimina dira gravant; +Da veniam pacemque mihi, da, mente serena, + Ut tibi quae placeant, omnia promptus agam. +Solvi, quo Christus cunctis delicta redemit, + Et pro me pretium, tu patiare, pater. + +[a] This and the three following articles are metrical versions of + collects in the liturgy; the first, of that, beginning, "O God, + whose nature and property"; the second and third of the collects for + the seventeenth and twenty-first Sundays after Trinity; and the + fourth, of the first collect in the communion service. + + +[Dec. 5, 1784.][a] +Summe Deus, cui caeca patent penetralia cordis; + Quem nulla anxietas, nulla cupido fugit; +Quem nil vafrities peccantum subdola celat; + Omnia qui spectans, omnia ubique regis; +Mentibus afflatu terrenas ejice sordes + Divino, sanctus regnet ut intus amor: +Eloquiumque potens linguis torpentious affer, + Ut tibi laus omni semper ab ore sonet: +Sanguine quo gentes, quo secula cuncta piavit, + Haec nobis Christus promeruisse velit! + +[a] The day on which he received the sacrament for the last time; and + eight days before his decease. + + +PSALMUS CXVII. + +Anni qua volucris ducitur orbita, +Patrem coelicolum perpetuo colunt + Quo vis sanguine cretae + Gentes undique carmine. + +Patrem, cujus amor blandior in dies +Mortales miseros servat, alit, fovet, + Omnes undique gentes, + Sancto dicite carmine. + + +[a]Seu te saeva fames, levitas sive improba fecit, + Musca, meae comitem, participemque dapis, +Pone metum, rostrum fidens immitte culullo, + Nam licet, et toto prolue laeta mero. +Tu, quamcunque tibi velox indulserit annus, + Carpe diem; fugit, heu, non revocanda dies! +Quae nos blanda comes, quae nos perducat eodem, + Volvitur hora mihi, volvitur hora tibi! +Una quidem, sic fata volunt, tibi vivitur aestas, + Eheu, quid decies plus mihi sexta dedit! +Olim praeteritae numeranti tempora vitae, + Sexaginta annis non minor unus erit. + +[a] The above is a version of the song, "Busy, curious, thirsty fly." + + +[b]Habeo, dedi quod alteri; +Habuique, quod dedi mihi; +Sed quod reliqui, perdidi. + +[b] These lines are a version of three sentences that are said, in the + manuscript, to be "On the monument of John of Doncaster;" and which + are as follow: + + What I gave, that I have; + What I spent, that I had; + What I left, that I lost. + + +[a]E WALTONI PISCATORE PERFECTO EXCERPTUM. + +Nunc, per gramina fusi, +Densa fronde salicti, +Dum defenditur imber, +Molles ducimus horas. +Hic, dum debita morti +Paulum vita moratur, +Nunc rescire priora, +Nunc instare futuris, +Nunc summi prece sancta +Patris numen adire est. +Quicquid quraeitur ultra, +Caeco ducit amore, +Vel spe ludit inani, +Luctus mox pariturum. + +[a] These lines are a translation of part of a song in the Complete + Angler of Isaac Walton, written by John Chalkhill, a friend of + Spenser, and a good poet in his time. They are but part of the last + stanza, which, that the reader may have it entire, is here given at + length: + +If the sun's excessive heat + Make our bodies swelter, +To an osier hedge we get + For a friendly shelter! + Where in a dike, + Perch or pike, + Roach or dace, + We do chase, +Bleak or gudgeon, + Without grudging, + We are still contented. +Or we sometimes pass an hour + Under a green willow, +That defends us from a shower, + Making earth our pillow; + Where we may + Think and pray, + Before death + Stops our breath: + Other joys + Are but toys, + And to be lamented. + + +[a]Quisquis iter tendis, vitreas qua lucidus undas +Speluncae late Thamesis praetendit opacae; +Marmorea trepidant qua lentae in fornice guttae, +Crystallisque latex fractus scintillat acutis; +Gemmaque, luxuriae nondum famulata nitenti +Splendit, et incoquitur tectum sine fraude metallum; +Ingredere O! rerum pura cole mente parentem; +Auriferasque auri metuens scrutare cavernas. +Ingredere! Egeriae sacrum en tibi panditur antrum! +Hic, in se totum, longe per opaca futuri +Temporis, Henricum rapuit vis vivida mentis: +Hic pia Vindamius traxit suspiria, in ipsa +Morte memor patriae; hic Marmonti pectore prima +Coelestis fido caluerunt semina flammae. +Temnere opes, pretium sceleris, patriamque tueri +Fortis, ades; tibi, sponte, patet venerabile limen. + +[a] The above lines are a version of Pope's verses on his own grotto, + which begin, "Thou, who shall stop where Thames' translucent wave." + + + +GRAECORTUM EPIGRAMMATUM VERSIONES METRICAE. + + Pag. 2. Brodaei edit. Bas. ann. 1549. +Non Argos pugilem, non me Messana creavit; + Patria Sparta mihi est, patria clara virum. +Arte valent isti, mihi robo revivere solo est, + Convenit ut natis, inclyta Sparta, tuis. + + Br. 2. +Quandoquidem passim nulla ratione feruntur, + Cuncta cinis, cuncta et ludicra, cuncta nihil. + + Br. 5. +Pectore qui duro, crudos de vite racemos, + Venturi exsecuit vascula prima meri, +Labraque constrictus, semesos, jamque terendos + Sub pedibus, populo praetereunte, jacit. +Supplicium huic, quoniam crescentia gaudia laesit, + Det Bacchus, dederat quale, Lycurge, tibi. +Hae poterant uvae laeto convivia cantu + Mulcere, aut pectus triste levare malis. + + Br. 8. +Fert humeris claudum validis per compita caecus, + Hic oculos socio commodat, ille pedes. + + Br. 10. +Qui, mutare vias ausus terraeque marisque, + Trajecit montes nauta, fretumque pedes, +Xerxi, tercentum Spartae Mars obstitit acris + Militibus; terris sit pelagoque pudor! + + Br. 11. +Sit tibi, Calliope, Parnassum, cura, tenenti, +Alter ut adsit Homerus, adest etenim alter Achilles. + + Br. 18. +Ad musas Venus haec: Veneri parete, puellae, + In vos ne missus spicula tendat amor. +Haec musae ad Venerem: sic Marti, diva, mineris, + Hue nunquam volitat debilis iste puer. + + Br. 19. +Prospera sors nec te strepitoso turbine tollat, + Nec menti injiciat sordida cura jugum; +Nam vita incertis incerta impellitur auris, + Omnesque in partes tracta, retracta fluit; +Firma manet virtus; virtuti innitere, tutus + Per fluctus vitae sic tibi cursus erit. + + Br. 24. +Hora bonis quasi nunc instet suprema fruaris, + Plura ut victurus secula, parce bonis: +Divitiis, utrinque cavens, qui tempore parcit, + Tempore divitiis utitur, ille sapit. + + Br. 24. +Nunquam jugera messibus onusta, aut +Quos Gyges cumulos habebat auri; +Quod vitae satis est, peto, Macrine, +Mi, nequid nimis, est nimis probatum. + + Br. 24. +Non opto aut precibus posco ditescere, paucis + Sit contenta mihi vita, dolore carens. + + Br. 24 +Recta ad pauperiem tendit, cui corpora cordi est + Multa alere, et multas aedificare domos. + + Br. 24. +Tu neque dulce putes alienae accumbere mensae; + Nec probrosa avidae grata sit offa gulae; +Nec ficto fletu, fictis solvere cachinnis, + Arridens domino, collacrymansque tuo; +Laetior hand tecum, tecum neque tristior unquam, + Sed Miliae ridens, atque dolens Miliae. + + Br. 26. +Nil non mortale est mortalibus; omne quod est hie + Praetereunt, aut hos praeterit omne bonum. + + Br. 26. +Democrite, invisas homines majore cachinno; + Plus tibi ridendum secula nostra dabunt. +Heraclite, fluat lacrymarum crebrior imber; + Vita hominum nunc plus quod misereris habet. +Interea dubito; tecum me causa nec ulla + Ridere, aut tecum me lacrymare jubet. + + Br. 26. +Elige iter vitae, ut possis: rixisque, dolisque, + Perstrepit omne forum; cura molesta domi est; +Rura labor lassat; mare mille pericula terrent; + Verte solum, fient causa timoris opes; +Paupertas misera est; multae, cum conjuge, lites + Tecta ineunt; coelebs omnia solus ages. +Proles aucta gravat, rapta orbat; caeca juventae est + Virtus; canities cauta vigore caret. +Ergo optent homines, aut nunquam in luminis oras + Venisse, aut visa luce repente mori. + +Elige iter vitae, ut mavis: prudenua, lausque, + Permeat omne forum; vita quieta domi est; +Rus ornat natura; levat maris aspera lucrum, + Verte solum, donat plena crumena decus; +Pauperies latitat; cum conjuge, gaudia multa + Tecta ineunt; coelebs impediere minus; +Mulcet amor prolis, sopor est sine prole profundus; + Praecellit juvenis vi, pietate senex. +Nemo optet, nunquam venisse in luminis oras, + Aut periisse; scatet vita benigna bonis. + + Br. 27. +Vita omnis scena est ludusque: aut ludere disce + Seria seponens, aut mala dura pati. + + Br. 27. +Quae, sine morte, fuga est vitae, quam turba malorum + Non vitanda gravem, non toleranda facit? +Dulcia dat natura quidem, mare, sidera, terras, + Lunaque quas, et sol, itque reditque vias. +Terror inest aliis, moerorque, et siquid habebis, + Forte, boni, ultrices experiere vices. + + Br. 27. +Terram adii nudus, de terra nudus abibo. + Quid labor efficiet? non, nisi nudus, ero. + + Br. 27. +Natus eram lacrymans, lacrymans e luce recedo: + Sunt quibus a lacrymis vix vacat ulla dies. +Tale hominum genus est, infirmum, triste, misellum, + Quod mors in cineres solvit, et abdit humo. + + Br. 29. +Quisquis adit lectos, elata uxore, secundos, + Naufragus iratas ille retentat aquas. + + Br. 30. +Foelix ante alios nullius debitor aeris; + Hunc sequitur coelebs; tertius, orbe, venis. +Nee male res cessit, subito si funere sponsam, + Didatus magna dote, recondis humo. +His sapiens lectis, Epicurum quaerere frustra + Quales sint monades, qua fit inane, sinas. + + Br. 31. +Optarit quicunque senex sibi longius aevum, + Dignus, qui multa in lustra senescat, erit. +Cum procul est, optat, cum venit, quisque senectam, + Incusat, semper spe meliora videt. + + Br. 46. +Omnis vita nimis brevis est felicibus, una + Nox miseris longi temporis instar habet. + + Br. 55. +Gratia ter grata est velox, sin forte moretur, + Gratia vix restat nomine digna suo. + + Br. 56. +Seu prece poscatur, seu non, da, Jupiter, omne, +Magne, bonum; omne malum, et poscentibus, abnue nobis. + + Br. 60. +Me, cane vitato, canis excipit alter; eodem + In me animo tellus gignit et unda feras, +Nec mirum; restat lepori conscendere coelum, + Sidereus tamen hie territat, ecce canis! + + Br. 70. +Telluri arboribus ver frondens, sidera coelo, + Graeciae et urbs, urbi est ista propago, decus. + + Br. 75. +Impia facta patrans, homines fortasse latebis, + Non poteris, meditans prava, latere deos. + + Br. 75. +Antiope satyrum, Danae aurum, Europa juvencum, + Et cycnum fecit Leda petita, Jovem. + + Br. 92. +Aevi sat novi quam sim brevis; astra tuenti, + Per certas; stabili lege, voluta vices, +Tangitur haud pedibus tellus: conviva deorum + Expleor ambrosiis, exhilarorque cibis. + + Br. 96. +Quod nimium est sit ineptum, hinc, ut dixere priores, + Et melli nimio fellis amaror inest. + + Br. 103. +Puppe gubernatrix sedisti, audacia, prima + Divitiis acuens aspera corda virum; +Sola rates struis infidas, et dulcis amorem + Lucri ulciscendum mox nece sola doces. +Aurea secla hominum, quorum spectandus ocellis +E longinquo itidem pontus et orcus erat. + + Br. 126. +Ditescis, credo, quid restat? quicquid habebis + In tumulum tecum, morte jubente, trahes? +Divitias cumulas, pereuntes negligis horas; + Incrementa aevi non cumulare potes. + + Br. 120. +Mater adulantum, prolesque, pecunia, curae, + Teque frui timer est, teque carere dolor. + + Br. 126. +Me miserum sors omnis habet; florentibus annis, + Pauper eram, nummis diffluit area senis; +Queis uti poteram quondam, fortuna negavit, + Queis uti nequeo, nunc mihi praebet, opes. + + Br. 127. +Mnemosyne, ut Sappho, mellita voce, canentem + Audiit, irata est, ne nova musa foret. + + Br. 152. +Cum tacet indoctus, sapientior esse videtur, + Et morbus tegitur, dum premit ora pudor. + + Br. 155. +Nunc huic, nunc aliis cedens, cui farra Menippus + Credit, Achaemenidae nuper agellus eram. +Quod nulli proprium versat fortuna, putabat + Ille suum stolidus, nunc putat ille suum. + + Br. 156. +Non fortuna sibi te gratum tollit in altum; + At docet, exemplo, vis sibi quanta, tuo. + + Br. 162. +Hic, aurum ut reperit, laqueum abjicit; alter ut aurum + Non reperit, nectit quem reperit, laqueum. + + Br. 167. +Vive tuo ex ammo: vario rumore loquetur + De te plebs audax, hic bene, et ille male. + + Br. 168. +Vitae rosa brevis est; properans si carpere nolis, + Quaerenti obveniet mox sine flore rubus. + + Br. 170. +Pulicibus morsus, restincta lampade, stultus + Exclamat: nunc me cernere desinitis. + + Br. 202, +Mendotum pinxit Diodorus, et exit imago, + Praeter Menodotura, nullius absimilis. + + Br. 205. +Haud lavit Phido, haud tetigit, mihi febre calenti + In mentem ut venit nominis, interii. + + Br. 210. +Nycticorax cantat lethale; sed ipsa, canenti + Demophilo auscultans, Nycticorax moritur. + + Br. 212. +Hermem deorum nuncium, pennis levem, +Quo rege gaudent Arcades, furem boum, +Hujus palestrae qui vigil custos stetit, +Clam nocte tollit Aulus, et ridens ait: +Praestat magistro saepe discipulus suo. + + Br. 223. +Qui jacet hic servus vixit: nunc, lumine cassus, + Dario magno non minus ille potest. + + Br. 227. +Funus Alexandri mentitur fama; fidesque + Si Phoebo, victor nescit obire diem. + + Br. 241. +Nauta, quis hoc jaceat, ne percontere, sepulchro, + Eveniat tantum mitior unda tibi! + + Br. 256. +Cur opulentus eges? tua cuncta in foenore ponis: + Sic aliis dives, tu tibi pauper agis. + + Br. 262. +Qui pascis barbam, si crescis mente, Platoni, + Hirce, parem nitido te tua barba facit. + + Br. 266. +Clarus Ioannes, reginae affinis, ab alto + Sanguine Anastasii; cuncta sepulta jacent: +Et pius, et recti cultor: non illa jacere + Dicam; stat virtus non subigenda neci. + + Br. 267. +Cunctiparens tellus, salve, levis esto pusillo + Lysigeni, fuerat non gravis ille tibi. + + Br. 285. +Naufragus hic jaceo; contra, jacet ecce colonus! + Idem orcus terras, sic, pelagoque subest. + + Br. 301. +Quid salvere jubes me, pessime? Corripe gressus; + Est mihi quod non te rideo, plena salus. + + Br. 304. +Et ferus est Timon sub terris; janitor orci, + Cerbere, te morsu ne petat ille, cave. + + Br. 307. +Vitam a terdecimo sextus mihi finiet annus, + Astra mathematicos si modo vera docent. +Sufficit hoc votis, flos hic pulcherrimus aevi est, + Et senium triplex Nestoris urna capit. + + Br. 322. +Zosima, quae solo fuit olim corpore serva, +Corpore nunc etiam libera facta fuit. + + Br. 326. +Exiguum en! Priami monumentum; hand ille meretur + Quale, sed hostiles, quale dedere manus. + + Br. 326. +Hector dat gladium Ajaci, dat balteum et Ajax + Hectori, et exitio munus utrique fuit. + + Br. 344. +Ut vis, ponte minax, modo tres discesseris ulnas + Ingemina fluctus, ingeminaque sonum. + + Br. 344. +Naufragus hic jaceo, fidens tamen utere velis; +Tutum aliis aequor, me pereunte, fuit. + + Br. 398. +Heraclitus ego; indoctae ne laedite liuguae + Subtile ingenium, quaero, capaxque mei; +Unus homo mihi pro soxcentis, turba popelli + Pro nullo, clamo nunc tumulatus idem. + + Br. 399. +Ambraciota, vale lux alma, Cleombrotus infit, + Et saltu e muro ditis opaca petit: +Triste nihil passus, animi at de sorte Platonis + Scripta legens, sola vivere mente cupit. + + Br. 399. +Servus, Epictetus, mutilato corpore, vixi, +Pauperieque Irus, curaque summa deum. + + Br. 445. +Unde hic Praxiteles? nudam vidistis, Adoni, + Et Pari, et Anchisa, non alius, Venerem. + + Br. 451. +Sufflato accendis quisquis carbone lucernam, + Corde meo accendens; ardeo totus ego. + + Br. 486. +Jupiter hoc templum, ut, siquando relinquit Olympum, + Atthide non alius desit Olympus, habet. + + Br. 487. +Civis et externus grati; domus hospita nescit + Quaerere, quis, cujus, quis pater, unde venis. + +POMPEII. + + Br. 487. +Cum fugere haud possit, fractis victoria pennis + Te manet, imperii, Roma, perenne decus. + + Br. 488. +Latrones, alibi locupletum quaerite tecta, + Assidet huic, custos, strenua pauperies. + +Fortunae malim adversae tolerare procellas; + Quam domini ingentis ferre supercilium. + +En, Sexto, Sexti meditatur imago, silente; + Orator statua est, statuaeque orator imago. + +Pulchra est virgiuitas intacta, at vita periret, + Omnes si vellent virginitate frui; +Nequitiam fugiens, servata contrahe lege + Conjugium, ut pro te des hominem patriae. + +Fert humeris, venerabile onus, Cythereius heros + Per Trojae flammas, densaque tela, patrem: +Clamat et Argivis, vetuli, ne tangite; vita + Exiguum est Marti, sed mihi grande, lucrum. + +Forma animos hominum capit, at, si gratia desit, + Non tenet; esca natat pulchra, sed hamus abest, + +Cogitat aut loquitur nil vir, nil cogitat uxor, + Felici thalamo non, puto, rixa strepit. + +Buccina disjecit Thebarum moenia, struxit + Quae lyra, quam sibi non concinit harmonia! + +Mente senes olim juvenis, Faustine, premebas, + Nunc juvenum terres robore corda senex. +Laevum at utrumque decus, juveni quod praebuit olim + Turba senum, juvenes nunc tribuere seni. + +Exceptae hospitio, musae tribuere libellos + Herodoto, hospitii praemia, quaeque suum. + +Stella mea, observans stellas, dii me aethera faxint + Multis ut te oculis sim potis aspicere. + +Clara Cheroneae soboles, Plutarche, dicavit + Hanc statuam ingenio, Roma benigna, tuo. +Das bene collatos, quos Roma et Graecia jactat, + Ad divos, paribus passibus, ire duces; +Sed similem, Plutarche, tuae describere vitam + Non poteras, regio non tulit ulla parem. + +Dat tibi Pythagoram pictor; quod ni ipse tacere + Pythagoras mallet, vocem habuisset opus. + +Prolem Hippi, et sua qua meliorem secula nullum + Videre, Archidicen, haec tumulavit humus; +Quam, regum sobolem, nuptam, matrem, atque sororem + Fecerunt nulli sors titulique gravem. + +Cecropidis gravis hic ponor, Martique dicatus, + Quo tua signantur gesta, Philippe, lapis. +Spreta jacet Marathon, jacet et Salaminia laurus, + Omnia dum Macedum gloria et arma premunt. +Sint Demosthenica ut jurata cadavera voce, + Stabo illis qui sunt, quique fuere, gravis. + +Floribus in pratis, legi quos ipse, coronam + Contextam variis, do, Rhodoclea, tibi: +Hic anemone humet, confert narcissus odores + Cum violis; spirant lilia mista rosis. +His redimita comas, mores depone superbos, + Haec peritura nitent; tu peritura nites! + +Murem Asclepiades sub tecto ut vidit avarus, + Quid tibi, mus, mecum, dixit, amice, tibi? +Mus blandum ridens, respondit, pelle timorem: + Hic, bone vir, sedem, nori alimenta, peto. + +Saepe tuum in tumulum lacrymarum decidit imber, + Quem fundit blando junctus amore dolor; +Charus enim cunctis, tanquam, dum vita manebat, + Cuique esses natus, cuique sodalis, eras. +Heu quam dura preces sprevit, quam surda querelas + Parca, juventutem non miserata tuam! + +Arti ignis lucem tribui, tamen artis et ignis + Nunc ope, supplicii vivit imago mei. +Gratia nulla hominum mentes tenet, ista Promethei + Munera muneribus, si retulere fabri. + +Illa triumphatrix Graium consueta procorum + Ante suas agmen Lais habere fores, +Hoc Veneri speculum; nolo me cernere qualis + Sum nunc, nec possum cernere qualis eram. + +Crethida fabellas dulces garrire peritam + Prosequitur lacrymis filia moesta Sami: +Blandam lanifici sociam sine fine loquacem, + Quam tenet hic, cunctas quae manet, alta quies. + +Dicite, Causidici, gelido nunc marmore magni + Mugitum tumulus comprimit Amphiloci. + +Si forsan tumulum quo conditur Eumarus aufers, + Nil lucri facies; ossa habet et cinerem. + + +EPICTETI. + +Me, rex deorum, tuque, due, necessitas, +Quo, lege vestra, vita me feret mea. +Sequar libenter, sin reluctari velim, +Fiam scelestus, nec tamen minus sequar. + + +E THEOCRITO. + +Poeta, lector, hic quiescit Hipponax, +Si sis scelestus, praeteri, procul, marmor: +At te bonum si noris, et bonis natum, +Tutum hic sedile, et si placet, sopor tutus. + + +EUR. MED. 193--203. + +Non immerito culpanda venit +Proavum vecors insipientia, +Qui convivia, lautasque dapes, +Hilarare suis jussere modis +Cantum, vitae dulce levamen. +At nemo feras iras hominum +Domibus claris exitiales, +Voce aut fidibus pellere docuit; +Queis tamen aptam ferre medelam +Utile cunctis hoc opus esset; +Namque, ubi mensas onerant epulae, +Quorsum dulcis luxuria soni? +Sat laetitia sine subsidiis, +Pectora molli mulcet dubiae +Copia coenae. + + +[Greek:] +Tois Araes brotoloighos enhi ptolemoisi memaene, +Kahi toios Paphiaen plaesen eroti thean. + +The above is a version of a Latin epigram on the famous John duke of +Marlborough, by the abbé Salvini, which is as follows: + + Haud alio vultu fremuit Mars acer in armis: + Haud alio Cypriam percutit ore deam. + +The duke was, it seems, remarkably handsome in his person, to which the +second line has reference. + + +SEPTEM AETATES. + +Prima parit terras aetas; siccatque secunda; +Evocat Abramum dein tertia; quarta relinquit +Aegyptum; templo Solomonis quinta supersit; +Cyrum sexta timet; laetatur septima Christo. +[a]His Tempelmanni numeris descripseris orbem, +[b]Cum sex ceiituriis Judaeo millia septem. +Myrias[c] AEgypto cessit his septima pingui. +Myrias adsciscit sibi nonagesima septem +Imperium qua Turca[d] ferox exercet iniquum. + Undecies binas decadas et millia septem +Sortitur[e] Pelopis tellus quae nomine gaudet. + Myriadas decies septem numerare jubebit +Pastor Arabs: decies octo sibi Persa requirit. +Myriades sibi pulchra duas, duo millia poscit +Parthenope. [f]Novies vult tellus mille Sicana. +[g]Papa suo regit imperio ter millia quinque. +Cum sex centuriis numerat sex millia Tuscus[h]. +Centuria Ligures[i] augent duo millia quarta. +Centuriae octavam decadem addit Lucca[j] secundae. +Ut dicas, spatiis quam latis imperet orbi +[k]Russia, myriadas ter denas adde trecentis. +[l]Sardiniam cum sexcentis sex millia complent. + Cum sexagenis, dum plura recluserit aetas, +Myriadas ter mille homini dat terra[m] colendas. + Vult sibi vicenas millesima myrias addi, +Vicenis quinas, Asiam[n] metata celebrem. + Se quinquagenis octingentesima jungit +Myrias, ut menti pateat tota Africa[o] doctae. + Myriadas septem decies Europa[p] ducentis +Et quadragenis quoque ter tria millia jungit. + Myriadas denas dat, quinque et millia, sexque +Centurias, et tres decades Europa Britannis[q]. + Ter tria myriadi conjungit millia quartae, +Centuriae quartae decades quinque[r] Anglia nectit. + Millia myriadi septem foecunda secundae +Et quadragenis decades quinque addit Ierne[s]. + Quingentis quadragenis socialis adauget +Millia Belga[t] novem. + Ter sex centurias Hollandia jactat opima. +Undecimum Camber vult septem millibus addi. + +[a] To the above lines, (which are unfinished, and can, therefore, be + only offered as a fragment,) in the doctor's manuscript, are + prefixed the words "Geographia Metrica." As we are referred, in the + first of the verses, to Templeman, for having furnished the + numerical computations that are the subject of them, his work has + been, accordingly, consulted, the title of which is, a new Survey of + the Globe; and which professes to give an accurate mensuration of + all the empires, kingdoms, and other divisions thereof, in the + square miles that they respectively contain. On comparison of the + several numbers in these verses, with those set down by Templeman, + it appears that nearly half of them are precisely the same; the rest + are not quite so exactly done.--For the convenience of the reader, + it has been thought right to subjoin each number, as it stands in + Templeman's works, to that in Dr. Johnson's verses which refers to + it. +[b] In this first article that is versified, there is an accurate + conformity in Dr. Johnson's number to Templeman's; who sets down the + square miles of Palestine at 7,600. +[c] The square miles of Egypt are, in Templeman, 140,700. +[d] The whole Turkish empire, in Templeman, is computed at 960,057 + square miles. +[e] In the four following articles, the numbers in Templeman and in + Johnson's verses are alike.--We find, accordingly, the Morea, in + Templeman, to be set down at 7,220 square miles.--Arabia, at + 700,000.--Persia, at 800,000.--and Naples, at 22,000. +[f] Sicily, in Templeman, is put down at 9,400. +[g] The pope's dominions, at 14,868. +[h] Tuscany, at 6,640. +[i] Genoa, in Templeman, as in Johnson likewise, is set down at 2,400. +[j] Lucca, at 286. +[k] The Russian empire, in the 29th plate of Templeman, is set down at + 3,303,485 square miles. +[l] Sardinia, in Templeman, as likewise in Johnson, 6,600. +[m] The habitable world, in Templeman, is computed, in square miles, at + 30,666,806 square miles. +[n] Asia, at 10,257,487. +[o] Africa, at 8,506,208. +[p] Europe, at 2,749,349. +[q] The British dominions, at 105,634. +[r] England, as likewise in Johnson's expression of the number, at + 49,450. +[s] Ireland, at 27,457. +[t] In the three remaining instances, which make the whole that Dr. + Johnson appears to have rendered into Latin verse, we find the + numbers exactly agreeing with those of Templeman, who makes the + square miles of the United Provinces, 9540--of the province of + Holland, 1800--and of Wales, 7011. + + +TRANSLATION OF DRYDEN'S EPIGRAM ON MILTON. + +Quos laudat vates, Graecus, Romanus, et Anglus, + Tres tria temporibus secla dedere suis. + +Sublime ingenium Graecus; Romanus habebat + Carmen grande sonans; Anglus utrumque tulit. +Nil majus natura capit: clarare priores + Quae potuere duos tertius unus habet. + + +EPILOGUE TO THE CARMEN SAECULARE OF HORACE; +PERFORMED AT FREEMASONS' HALL. + +Quae fausta Romae dixit Horatius, +Haec fausta vobis dicimus, Angliae + Opes, triumphos, et subacti + Imperium pelagi precantes. + + Such strains as, mingled with the lyre, +Could Rome with future greatness fire, +Ye sons of England, deign to hear, +Nor think our wishes less sincere. + May ye the varied blessings share +Of plenteous peace and prosp'rous war; +And o'er the globe extend your reign, +Unbounded masters of the main! + + +TRANSLATION OF A WELSH EPITAPH (IN HERBERT'S +TRAVELS) ON PRINCE MADOCK. + +Inclytus hic haeres magni requiescit Oeni, + Confessas tantum mente, manuque, patrem; +Servilem tuti cultum contempsit agelli, +Et petiit terras, per freta longa, novas. + + + + +THE HISTORY +OF +RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. + + +PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS. + +The following incomparable tale was published in 1759; and the +early familiarity with eastern manners, which Johnson derived +from his translation of father Lobo's travels into Abissinia, may +be presumed to have led him to fix his opening scene in that +country; while Rassela Christos, the general of sultan Sequed, +mentioned in that work, may have suggested the name of his +speculative prince. Rasselas was written in the evenings of a +single week, and sent to the press, in portions, with the amiable +view of defraying the funeral expenses of the author's aged +mother, and discharging her few remaining debts. The sum, +however, which he received for it, does not seem large, to those +who know its subsequent popularity. None of his works has +been more widely circulated; and the admiration, which it has +attracted, in almost every country of Europe, proves, that, with +all its depression and sadness, it does utter a voice, that meets +with an assenting answer in the hearts of all who have tried life, +and found its emptiness. Johnson's view of our lot on earth was +always gloomy, and the circumstances, under which Rasselas was +composed, were calculated to add a deepened tinge of melancholy +to its speculations on human folly, misery, or malignity. Many +of the subjects discussed, are known to have been those which +had agitated Johnson's mind. Among them is the question, +whether the departed ever revisit the places that knew them +on earth, and how far they may take an interest in the welfare +of those, over whom they watched, when here. We shall elsewhere +have to contemplate the moralist, standing on the border +of his mother's grave, and asking, with anxious agony, whether +that dark bourn, once passed, terminated for ever the cares of +maternity and love[a]. The frivolous and the proud, who think +not, or acknowledge not, that there are secrets, in both matter +and mind, of which their philosophy has not dreamed, may smile +at what they may, in their derision, term such weak and idle +inquiries. But on them, the most powerful minds that ever +illuminated this world, have fastened, with an intense curiosity; +and, owning their fears, or their ignorance, have not dared to +disavow their belief[b]. + +It is not to be denied, that Rasselas displays life, as one unvaried +series of disappointments, and leaves the mind, at its +close, in painful depression. This effect has been considered an +evil, and regarded even as similar to that produced by the doctrines +of Voltaire, Bolingbroke, and Rousseau, who combined +every thing venerable on earth with ridicule, treated virtue and +vice, with equal contemptuous indifference, and laid bare, with +cruel mockery, the vanity of all mortal wishes, prospects, and +pursuits. Their motive, for all this, we need not pause, in this +place, to examine. But a distinction may be made between the +melancholy of the heart, and the melancholy of the mind: while +the latter is sceptical, sour, and misanthropic, the former is +passionate, tender, and religious. Those who are under the influence +of the one, become inactive, morose, or heedless: detecting +the follies of the wisest and the frailties of the best, they scoff at +the very name of virtue; they spurn, as visionary and weak, every +attempt to meliorate man's condition, and from their conviction +of the earthward tendency of his mind, they bound his destinies +by this narrow world and its concerns. But those whose hearts +are penetrated with a feeling for human infirmity and sorrow, +are benevolent and active; considering man, as the victim of sin, +and woe, and death, for a cause which reason cannot unfold, but +which religion promises to terminate, they sooth the short-lived +disappointments of life, by pointing to a loftier and more lasting +state. Candide is the book of the one party, Rasselas of the +other. They appeared nearly together; they exhibit the same +picture of change, and misery, and crime. But the one demoralized +a continent, and gave birth to lust, and rapine, and +bloodshed; the other has blessed many a heart, and gladdened +the vale of sorrow, with many a rill of pure and living water. +Voltaire may be likened to the venomous toad of eastern allegory, +which extracts a deadly poison from that sunbeam which +bears health, and light, and life to all beside: the philosopher, +in Rasselas, like some holy and aged man, who has well nigh run +his course, in recounting the toils and perils of his pilgrimage, +may sadden the young heart, and crush the fond hopes of inexperience; +but, while he wounds, he presents the antidote and the +balm, and tells, where promises will be realized, and hopes will +no more be disappointed. We have ventured to detain our +readers thus long from Rasselas itself, because, from its similar +view of life with the sceptical school, many well-intentioned men +have apprehended, its effects might be the same. We have, +therefore, attempted briefly to distinguish the sources whence +these different writings have issued, and, we trust, we have +pointed out their remoteness from each other. And we do not +dwell on the subject, at greater length, because Johnson's writings, +in various parts, will require our attention on this particular head. +To be restless and weary of the dull details and incomplete enjoyments +of life, is common to all lofty minds. Frederick of +Prussia sought, in the bosom of a cold philosophy, to chill every +generous impulse, and each warm aspiration after immortality; +but he painfully felt, how inefficient was grandeur, or power, to +fill the heart, and plaintively exclaimed to Maupertuis, "Que +notre vie est peu de chose;" all is vanity. The philosophy of +Rasselas, however, though it pronounces on the unsatisfactory +nature of all human enjoyments, and though its perusal may +check the worldling in his mirth, and bring down the mighty +in his pride, does not, with the philosophic conqueror, sullenly +despair, but gently sooths the mourner, by the prospect of a final +recompense and repose. Its pages inculcate the same lesson, as +those of the Rambler, but "the precept, which is tedious in a +formal essay, may acquire attractions in a tale, and the sober +charms of truth be divested of their austerity by the graces of +innocent fiction[c]." We may observe, in conclusion, that the +abrupt termination of Rasselas, so left, according to sir John +Hawkins, by its author, to admit of continuation, and its unbroken +gloom, induced Miss E. Cornelia Knight to present to +the public a tale, entitled Dinarbas, to exhibit the fairer view of +life. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] See Idler, No. 41, and his letter to Mr. Elphinstone, on the death + of his mother. +[b] Aristot. Ethic. Nich. lib. i. c. 10, 11. In Barrow's sermon on the + "the least credulous or fanciful of men." +[c] See Drake's Speculator, 1790, No. 1. + +THE HISTORY + +OF + +RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. + + + +CHAP. I. + +DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY. + +Ye, who listen, with credulity, to the whispers of fancy, and pursue, +with eagerness, the phantoms of hope; who expect, that age will perform +the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will +be supplied by the morrow; attend to the history of Rasselas, prince of +Abissinia. + +Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty emperour, in whose dominions +the father of waters begins his course; whose bounty pours down the +streams of plenty, and scatters over half the world the harvests of +Egypt. + +According to the custom, which has descended, from age to age, among the +monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private palace, +with the other sons and daughters of Abissinian royalty, till the order +of succession should call him to the throne. + +The place, which the wisdom, or policy, of antiquity had destined for +the residence of the Abissinan princes, was a spacious valley in the +kingdom of Amhara, surrounded, on every side, by mountains, of which the +summits overhang the middle part. The only passage, by which it could be +entered, was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it has been +long disputed, whether it was the work of nature, or of human industry. +The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth, +which opened into the valley, was closed with gates of iron, forged by +the artificers of ancient days, so massy, that no man could, without the +help of engines, open or shut them. + +From the mountains, on every side, rivulets descended, that filled all +the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middle, +inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl, whom +nature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged its +superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain, +on the northern side, and fell, with dreadful noise, from precipice to +precipice, till it was heard no more. + +The sides of the mountains were covered with trees; the banks of the +brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from the +rocks; and every month dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals that +bite the grass, or browse the shrub, whether wild or tame, wandered in +this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey, by the mountains +which confined them. On one part, were flocks and herds feeding in the +pastures; on another, all the beasts of chase frisking in the lawns; the +sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking in +the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in the shade. All the +diversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of nature +were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded. + +The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with the +necessaries of life; and all delights and superfluities were added, at +the annual visit which the emperour paid his children, when the iron +gate was opened to the sound of musick; and during eight days every one, +that resided in the valley, was required to propose whatever might +contribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of +attention, and lessen the tediousness of time. Every desire was +immediately granted. All the artificers of pleasure were called to +gladden the festivity; the musicians exerted the power of harmony, and +the dancers showed their activity before the princes, in hope that they +should pass their lives in this blissful captivity, to which those only +were admitted, whose performance was thought able to add novelty to +luxury. Such was the appearance of security and delight, which this +retirement afforded, that they, to whom it was new, always desired, that +it might be perpetual; and, as those, on whom the iron gate had once +closed, were never suffered to return, the effect of long experience +could not be known. Thus every year produced new schemes of delight, and +new competitors for imprisonment. + +The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above the +surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares or courts, built +with greater or less magnificence, according to the rank of those for +whom they were designed. The roofs were turned into arches of massy +stone, joined by a cement that grew harder by time, and the building +stood, from century to century, deriding the solstitial rains and +equinoctial hurricanes, without need of reparation. + +This house, which was so large, as to be fully known to none, but some +ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of the place, +was built, as if suspicion herself had dictated the plan. To every room +there was an open and secret passage, every square had a communication +with the rest, either from the upper stories, by private galleries, or, +by subterranean passages, from the lower apartments. Many of the columns +had unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had reposited +their treasures. They then closed up the opening with marble, which was +never to be removed, but in the utmost exigencies of the kingdom; and +recorded their accumulations in a book, which was itself concealed in a +tower not entered, but by the emperour, attended by the prince, who +stood next in succession. + + + +CHAP. II. + +THE DISCONTENT OP RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY. + +Here the sons and daughters of Abissinia, lived only to know the soft +vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful +to delight, and gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy. They +wandered in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of +security. Every art was practised, to make them pleased with their own +condition. The sages, who instructed them, told them of nothing but the +miseries of publick life, and described all beyond the mountains, as +regions of calamity, where discord was always raging, and where man +preyed upon man. + +To heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were daily +entertained with songs, the subject of which was the happy valley. Their +appetites were excited, by frequent enumerations of different +enjoyments, and revelry and merriment was the business of every hour, +from the dawn of morning, to the close of even. + +These methods were, generally, successful; few of the princes had ever +wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full +conviction, that they had all within their reach that art or nature +could bestow, and pitied those, whom fate had excluded from this seat of +tranquillity, as the sport of chance, and the slaves of misery. + +Thus, they rose in the morning, and lay down at night, pleased with each +other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the twenty-sixth +year of his age, began to withdraw himself from their pastimes and +assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks, and silent meditation. He +often sat before tables, covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the +dainties that were placed before him: he rose abruptly in the midst of +the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of musick. His attendants +observed the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure: he +neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day +after day, on the banks of rivulets, sheltered with trees; where he +sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed the +fish playing in the stream, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures and +mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the herbage, +and some sleeping among the bushes. + +This singularity of his humour made him much observed. One of the sages, +in whose conversation he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, +in hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet. Rasselas, who knew not +that any one was near him, having, for some time, fixed his eyes upon +the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their +condition with his own. "What," said he, "makes the difference between +man and all the rest of the animal creation? Every beast, that strays +beside me, has the same corporal necessities with myself: he is hungry, +and crops the grass, he is thirsty and drinks the stream, his thirst and +hunger are appeased, he is satisfied and sleeps: he rises again and is +hungry, he is again fed, and is at rest. I am hungry and thirsty, like +him, but when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest; I am, like him, +pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied with fulness. The +intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; I long again to be hungry, +that I may again quicken my attention. The birds peck the berries, or +the corn, and fly away to the groves, where they sit, in seeming +happiness, on the branches, and waste their lives in tuning one unvaried +series of sounds. I, likewise, can call the lutanist and the singer, but +the sounds, that pleased me yesterday, weary me to-day, and will grow +yet more wearisome to-morrow. I can discover within me no power of +perception, which is not glutted with its proper pleasure, yet I do not +feel myself delighted. Man surely has some latent sense, for which this +place affords no gratification; or he has some desires, distinct from +sense, which must be satisfied, before he can be happy." + +After this, he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising, walked +towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and saw the animals +around him, "Ye," said he, "are happy, and need not envy me, that walk +thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envy +your felicity; for it is not the felicity of man. I have many +distresses, from which ye are free; I fear pain, when I do not feel it; +I sometimes shrink at evils recollected, and sometimes start at evils +anticipated: surely the equity of providence has balanced peculiar +sufferings with peculiar enjoyments." + +With observations like these, the prince amused himself, as he returned, +uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look, that discovered +him to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and to receive +some solace of the miseries of life, from consciousness of the delicacy +with which he felt, and the eloquence with which he bewailed them. He +mingled, cheerfully, in the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced +to find, that his heart was lightened. + + + +CHAP. III. + +THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING. + +On the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made +himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it by +counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which the +prince, having long considered him, as one whose intellects were +exhausted, was not very willing to afford: "Why," said he, "does this +man thus obtrude upon me? shall I be never suffered to forget those +lectures, which pleased, only while they were new, and to become new +again, must be forgotten?" He then walked into the wood, and composed +himself to his usual meditations, when, before his thoughts had taken +any settled form, he perceived his pursuer at his side, and was, at +first, prompted, by his impatience, to go hastily away; but, being +unwilling to offend a man, whom he had once reverenced, and still loved, +he invited him to sit down with him on the bank. + +The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change, which had been +lately observed in the prince, and to inquire, why he so often retired +from the pleasures of the palace, to loneliness and silence. "I fly from +pleasure," said the prince, "because pleasure has ceased to please; I am +lonely, because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud, with my +presence, the happiness of others." + +"You, sir," said the sage, "are the first who has complained of misery +in the happy valley. I hope to convince you, that your complaints have +no real cause. You are here in full possession of all that the emperour +of Abissinia can bestow; here is neither labour to be endured, nor +danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger can procure +or purchase. Look round, and tell me which of your wants is without +supply: if you want nothing, how are you unhappy?" + +"That I want nothing," said the prince, "or that I know not what I want, +is the cause of my complaint; if I had any known want, I should have a +certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I should not then +repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the western mountain, or +lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from +myself. When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another, I fancy, +that. I should be happy, if I had something to pursue. But, possessing +all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, +except that the latter is still more tedious than the former. Let your +experience inform me, how the day may now seem as short as in my +childhood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I +never had observed before. I have already enjoyed too much; give me +something to desire." + +The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew +not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. "Sir," said he, "if +you had seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to value your +present state." "Now," said the prince, "you have given me something to +desire; I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight +of them is necessary to happiness." + + + +CHAP. IV. + +THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE. + +At this time the sound of musick proclaimed the hour of repast, and the +conversation was concluded. The old man went away, sufficiently +discontented, to find that his reasonings had produced the only +conclusion which they were intended to prevent. But, in the decline of +life, shame and grief are of short duration; whether it be, that we bear +easily what we have borne long, or that, finding ourselves in age less +regarded, we less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon +afflictions, to which we know that the hand of death is about to put an +end. + +The prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not +speedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the length +of life which nature promised him, because he considered, that in a long +time much must be endured; he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many +years much might be done. + +This first beam of hope, that had been ever darted into his mind, +rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled the lustre of his eyes. He +was fired with the desire of doing something, though he knew not yet, +with distinctness, either end or means. + +He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but, considering himself as +master of a secret stock of happiness, which he could enjoy only by +concealing it, he affected to be busy in all schemes of diversion, and +endeavoured to make others pleased with the state, of which he himself +was weary. But pleasures never can be so multiplied or continued, as not +to leave much of life unemployed; there were many hours, both of the +night and day, which he could spend, without suspicion, in solitary +thought. The load of life was much lightened: he went eagerly into the +assemblies, because he supposed the frequency of his presence necessary +to the success of his purposes; he retired gladly to privacy, because he +had now a subject of thought. + +His chief amusement was to picture to himself that world which he had +never seen; to place himself in various conditions; to be entangled in +imaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures: but his +benevolence always terminated his projects in the relief of distress, +the detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of +happiness. + +Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied himself so +intensely in visionary bustle, that he forgot his real solitude, and, +amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents of human affairs, +neglected to consider, by what means he should mingle with mankind. + +One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphan +virgin, robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and crying +after him, for restitution and redress. So strongly was the image +impressed upon his mind, that he started up in the maid's defence, and +ran forward to seize the plunderer, with all the eagerness of real +pursuit. Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt: Rasselas could not +catch the fugitive with his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary, by +perseverance, him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on till +the foot of the mountain stopped his course. + +Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless impetuosity. +Then, raising his eyes to the mountain, "This," said he, "is the fatal +obstacle that hinders, at once, the enjoyment of pleasure, and the +exercise of virtue. How long is it that my hopes and wishes have flown +beyond this boundary of my life, which, yet, I never have attempted to +surmount!" + +Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse; and remembered, that, +since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the sun had +passed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a degree of +regret, with which he had never been before acquainted. He considered, +how much might have been done in the time which had passed, and left +nothing real behind it. He compared twenty months with the life of man. +"In life," said he, "is not to be counted the ignorance of infancy, or +imbecility of age. We are long, before we are able to think, and we soon +cease from the power of acting. The true period of human existence may +be reasonably estimated at forty years, of which I have mused away the +four and twentieth part. What I have lost was certain, for I have +certainly possessed it; but of twenty months to come, who can assure +me?" + +The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he was long +before he could be reconciled to himself. "The rest of my time," said +he, "has been lost, by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the +absurd institutions of my country; I remember it with disgust, yet +without remorse: but the months that have passed, since new light darted +into my soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable felicity, have been +squandered by my own fault. I have lost that which can never be +restored: I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty months, an idle +gazer on the light of heaven: in this time, the birds have left the nest +of their mother, and committed themselves to the woods and to the skies: +the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned, by degrees, to climb the +rocks, in quest of independent sustenance. I only have made no advances, +but am still helpless and ignorant. The moon, by more than twenty +changes, admonished me of the flux of life; the stream, that rolled +before my feet, upbraided my inactivity. I sat feasting on intellectual +luxury, regardless alike of the examples of the earth, and the +instructions of the planets. Twenty months are passed; who shall restore +them?" + +These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed four +months, in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was +awakened to more vigorous exertion, by hearing a maid, who had broken a +porcelain cup, remark, that what cannot be repaired is not to be +regretted. + +This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself, that he had not +discovered it, having not known, or not considered, how many useful +hints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by her own +ardour to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open before her. +He, for a few hours, regretted his regret, and from that time bent his +whole mind upon the means of escaping from the valley of happiness. + + + +CHAP. V. + +THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE. + +He now found, that it would be very difficult to effect that which it +was very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about him, he +saw himself confined by the bars of nature, which had never yet been +broken, and by the gate, through which none, that once had passed it, +were ever able to return. He was now impatient as an eagle in a grate. +He passed week after week in clambering the mountains, to see if there +was any aperture which the bushes might conceal, but found all the +summits inaccessible by their prominence. The iron gate he despaired to +open; for it was not only secured with all the power of art, but was +always watched by successive sentinels, and was, by its position, +exposed to the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants. + +He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake were +discharged; and, looking down, at a time when the sun shone strongly +upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks, which, +though they permitted the stream to flow through many narrow passages, +would stop any body of solid bulk. He returned discouraged and dejected; +but, having now known the blessing of hope, resolved never to despair. + +In these fruitless searches he spent ten months. The time, however, +passed cheerfully away: in the morning he rose with new hope, in the +evening applauded his own diligence, and in the night slept sound after +his fatigue. He met a thousand amusements, which beguiled his labour, +and diversified his thoughts. He discerned the various instincts of +animals, and properties of plants, and found the place replete with +wonders, of which he purposed to solace himself with the contemplation, +if he should never be able to accomplish his flight; rejoicing that his +endeavours, though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source of +inexhaustible inquiry. + +But his original curiosity was not yet abated; he resolved to obtain +some knowledge of the ways of men. His wish still continued, but his +hope grew less. He ceased to survey any longer the walls of his prison, +and spared to search, by new toils, for interstices which he knew could +not be found; yet determined to keep his design always in view, and lay +hold on any expedient that time should offer. + + + +CHAP. VI. + +A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING. + +Among the artists that had been allured into the happy valley, to labour +for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a man eminent +for his knowledge of the mechanick powers, who had contrived many +engines, both of use and recreation. By a wheel, which the stream +turned, he forced the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to +all the apartments of the palace. He erected a pavilion in the garden, +around which he kept the air always cool by artificial showers. One of +the groves, appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to which +the rivulet, that ran through it, gave a constant motion; and +instruments of soft musick were placed at proper distances, of which +some played by the impulse of the wind, and some by the power of the +stream. + +This artist was, sometimes, visited by Rasselas, who was pleased with +every kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come, when all +his acquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He came one +day to amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the master busy in +building a sailing chariot: he saw that the design was practicable upon +a level surface, and, with expressions of great esteem, solicited its +completion. The workman was pleased to find himself so much regarded by +the prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honours. "Sir," said he, +"you have seen but a small part of what the mechanick sciences can +perform. I have been long of opinion, that instead of the tardy +conveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration of +wings; that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and that only +ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground." + +This hint rekindled the prince's desire of passing the mountains: having +seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was willing to fancy +that he could do more; yet resolved to inquire further, before he +suffered hope to afflict him by disappointment. "I am afraid," said he +to the artist, "that your imagination prevails over your skill, and that +you now tell me rather what you wish, than what you know. Every animal +has his element assigned him: the birds have the air, and man and beasts +the earth."--"So," replied the mechanist, "fishes have the water, in +which, yet, beasts can swim by nature, and men by art. He that can swim +needs not despair to fly: to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to +fly is to swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of +resistance to the different density of matter through which we are to +pass. You will be, necessarily, upborne by the air, if you can renew any +impulse upon it, faster than the air can recede from the pressure." + +"But the exercise of swimming," said the prince, "is very laborious; the +strongest limbs are soon wearied; I am afraid, the act of flying will be +yet more violent, and wings will be of no great use, unless we can fly +further than we can swim." + +"The labour of rising from the ground," said the artist, "will be great, +as we see it in the heavier domestick fowls; but as we mount higher, the +earth's attraction, and the body's gravity, will be gradually +diminished, till we shall arrive at a region, where the man will float +in the air without any tendency to fall; no care will then be necessary +but to move forwards, which the gentlest impulse will effect. You, sir, +whose curiosity is so extensive, will easily conceive with what pleasure +a philosopher, furnished with wings, and hovering in the sky, would see +the earth, and all its inhabitants, rolling beneath him, and presenting +to him, successively, by its diurnal motion, all the countries within +the same parallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the +moving scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts! To survey, with +equal security, the marts of trade, and the fields of battle; mountains +infested by barbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by plenty, and +lulled by peace! How easily shall we then trace the Nile through all its +passage; pass over to distant regions, and examine the face of nature, +from one extremity of the earth to the other!" + +"All this," said the prince, "is much to be desired; but I am afraid, +that no man will be able to breathe in these regions of speculation and +tranquillity. I have been told, that respiration is difficult upon lofty +mountains, yet, from these precipices, though so high as to produce +great tenuity of air, it is very easy to fall; therefore, I suspect, +that from any height, where life can be supported, there may be danger +of too quick descent." + +"Nothing," replied the artist, "will ever be attempted, if all possible +objections must be first overcome. If you will favour my project, I will +try the first flight at my own hazard. I have considered the structure +of all volant animals, and find the folding continuity of the bat's +wings most easily accommodated to the human form. Upon this model, I +shall begin my task tomorrow, and in a year, expect to tower into the +air beyond the malice and pursuit of man. But I will work only on this +condition, that the art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not +require me to make wings for any but ourselves." + +"Why," said Rasselas, "should you envy others so great an advantage? All +skill ought to be exerted for universal good; every man has owed much to +others, and ought to repay the kindness that he has received." + +"If men were all virtuous," returned the artist, "I should, with great +alacrity, teach them all to fly. But what would be the security of the +good, if the bad could, at pleasure, invade them from the sky? Against +an army sailing through the clouds, neither walls, nor mountains, nor +seas, could afford any security. A flight of northern savages might +hover in the wind, and light, at once, with irresistible violence, upon +the capital of a fruitful region, that was rolling under them. Even this +valley, the retreat of princes, the abode of happiness, might be +violated by the sudden descent of some of the naked nations, that swarm +on the coast of the southern sea." + +The prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, not wholly +hopeless of success. He visited the work, from time to time, observed +its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances, to facilitate +motion, and unite levity with strength. The artist was every day more +certain, that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and the +contagion of his confidence seized upon the prince. + +In a year the wings were finished, and, on a morning appointed, the +maker appeared, furnished for flight, on a little promontory: he waved +his pinions awhile, to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and, in +an instant, dropped into the lake. His wings, which were of no use in +the air, sustained him in the water, and the prince drew him to land, +half dead with terrour and vexation.[a] + +[a] See Rambler, No. 199, and note. + +CHAP. VII. + +THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING. + +The prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having suffered +himself to hope for a happier event, only because he had no other means +of escape in view. He still persisted in his design to leave the happy +valley by the first opportunity. + +His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of entering into +the world; and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to support himself, +discontent, by degrees, preyed upon him, and he began again to lose his +thoughts in sadness, when the rainy season, which, in these countries, +is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods. + +The rain continued longer, and with more violence, than had been ever +known: the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the torrents +streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow to +discharge the water. The lake overflowed its banks, and all the level of +the valley was covered with the inundation. The eminence, on which the +palace was built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that +the eye could now discover. The herds and flocks left the pastures, and +both the wild beasts and the tame retreated to the mountains. + +This inundation confined all the princes to domestick amusements, and +the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem, which Imlac +rehearsed, upon the various conditions of humanity. He commanded the +poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his verses a second +time; then entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in +having found a man who knew the world so well, and could so skilfully +paint the scenes of life. He asked a thousand questions about things, to +which, though common to all other mortals, his confinement, from +childhood, had kept him a stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance, and +loved his curiosity, and entertained him, from day to day, with novelty +and instruction, so that the prince regretted the necessity of sleep, +and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure. + +As they were sitting together, the prince commanded Imlac to relate his +history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what motive +induced, to close his life in the happy valley. As he was going to begin +his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and obliged to restrain +his curiosity till the evening. + +CHAP. VIII. + +THE HISTORY OF IMLAC. + +The close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the only +season of diversion and entertainment, and it was, therefore, midnight +before the musick ceased, and the princesses retired. Rasselas then +called for his companion, and required him to begin the story of his +life. + +"Sir," said Imlac, "my history will not be long; the life, that is +devoted to knowledge, passes silently away, and is very little +diversified by events. To talk in publick, to think in solitude, to read +and hear, to inquire, and answer inquiries, is the business of a +scholar. He wanders about the world without pomp or terrour, and is +neither known nor valued but by men like himself. + +"I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from the +fountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who traded +between the inland countries of Africk and the ports of the Red sea. He +was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments, and narrow +comprehension; he desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches, +lest he should be spoiled by the governours of the province." + +"Surely," said the prince, "my father must be negligent of his charge, +if any man, in his dominions, dares take that which belongs to another. +Does he not know, that kings are accountable for injustice permitted, as +well as done? If I were emperour, not the meanest of my subjects should +be oppressed with impunity. My blood boils, when I am told that a +merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains, for fear of losing them by +the rapacity of power. Name the governour, who robbed the people, that I +may declare his crimes to the emperour." + +"Sir," said Imlac, "your ardour is the natural effect of virtue animated +by youth: the time will come, when you will acquit your father, and, +perhaps, hear with less impatience of the governour. Oppression is, in +the Abissinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated; but no form of +government has been yet discovered, by which cruelty can be wholly +prevented. Subordination supposes power on one part, and subjection on +the other; and if power be in the hands of men, it will, sometimes, be +abused. The vigilance of the supreme magistrate may do much, but much +will still remain undone. He can never know all the crimes that are +committed, and can seldom punish all that he knows." + +"This," said the prince, "I do not understand, but I had rather hear +thee than dispute. Continue thy narration." + +"My father," proceeded Imlac, "originally intended that I should have no +other education, than such as might qualify me for commerce; and, +discovering in me great strength of memory, and quickness of +apprehension, often declared his hope, that I should be, some time, the +richest man in Abissinia." + +"Why," said the prince, "did thy father desire the increase of his +wealth, when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy? I +am unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot both be +true." + +"Inconsistencies," answered Imlac, "cannot both be right, but, imputed +to man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is not inconsistency. My +father might expect a time of greater security. However, some desire is +necessary to keep life in motion, and he, whose real wants are supplied, +must admit those of fancy." + +"This," said the prince, "I can, in some measure, conceive. I repent +that I interrupted thee." + +"With this hope," proceeded Imlac, "he sent me to school; but when I had +once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure of +intelligence and the pride of invention, I began, silently, to despise +riches, and determined to disappoint the purpose of my father, whose +grossness of conception raised my pity. I was twenty years old before +his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel, in which time I +had been instructed, by successive masters, in all the literature of my +native country. As every hour taught me something new, I lived in a +continual course of gratifications; but, as I advanced towards manhood, +I lost much of the reverence with which I had been used to look on my +instructers; because, when the lesson was ended, I did not find them +wiser or better than common men. + +"At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce, and, opening +one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousand pieces of +gold. This, young man, said he, is the stock with which you must +negotiate. I began with less than the fifth part, and you see how +diligence and parsimony have increased it. This is your own, to waste or +to improve. If you squander it by negligence or caprice, you must wait +for my death, before you will be rich: if, in four years, you double +your stock, we will thenceforward let subordination cease, and live +together as friends and partners; for he shall always be equal with me, +who is equally skilled in the art of growing rich. + +"We laid our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap goods, and +travelled to the shore of the Red sea. When I cast my eye on the expanse +of waters, my heart bounded like that of a prisoner escaped. I felt an +unextinguishable curiosity kindle in my mind, and resolved to snatch +this opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and of learning +sciences unknown in Abissinia. + +"I remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement of my +stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by a penalty, +which I was at liberty to incur; and, therefore, determined to gratify +my predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountains of knowledge, +to quench the thirst of curiosity. + +"As I was supposed to trade without connexion with my father, it was +easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and procure +a passage to some other country. I had no motives of choice to regulate +my voyage; it was sufficient for me, that, wherever I wandered, I should +see a country, which I had not seen before. I, therefore, entered a ship +bound for Surat, having left a letter for my father, declaring my +intention. + +CHAP. IX. + +THE HISTORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED. + +"When I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight of land, +I looked round about me with pleasing terrour, and, thinking my soul +enlarged by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze round for +ever without satiety; but, in a short time, I grew weary of looking on +barren uniformity, where I could only see again what I had already seen. +I then descended into the ship, and doubted, for awhile, whether all my +future pleasures would not end like this, in disgust and disappointment. +Yet, surely, said I, the ocean and the land are very different; the only +variety of water is rest and motion, but the earth has mountains and +valleys, deserts and cities; it is inhabited by men of different customs +and contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life, though I +should miss it in nature. + +"With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself during the +voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of navigation, +which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for my +conduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been ever +placed. + +"I was almost weary of my naval amusements, when we landed safely at +Surat. I secured my money, and, purchasing some commodities for show, +joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland country. My +companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing that I was rich, and, +by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I was ignorant, considered +me as a novice, whom they had a right to cheat, and who was to learn, at +the usual expense, the art of fraud. They exposed me to the theft of +servants, and the exaction of officers, and saw me plundered, upon false +pretences, without any advantage to themselves, but that of rejoicing in +the superiority of their own knowledge." + +"Stop a moment," said the prince. "Is there such depravity in man, as +that he should injure another, without benefit to himself? I can easily +conceive, that all are pleased with superiority: but your ignorance was +merely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, could +afford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the knowledge which +they had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually have shown by +warning, as betraying you." + +"Pride," said Imlac, "is seldom delicate; it will please itself with +very mean advantages; and envy feels not its own happiness, but when it +may be compared with the misery of others. They were my enemies, because +they grieved to think me rich; and my oppressors, because they delighted +to find me weak." + +"Proceed," said the prince: "I do not doubt of the facts which you +relate, but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives." + +"In this company," said Imlac, "I arrived at Agra, the capital of +Indostan, the city in which the great mogul commonly resides. I applied +myself to the language of the country, and, in a few months, was able to +converse with the learned men; some of whom I found morose and reserved, +and others easy and communicative; some were unwilling to teach another +what they had, with difficulty, learned themselves; and some showed, +that the end of their studies was to gain the dignity of instructing. + +"To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much, that I +was presented to the emperour as a man of uncommon knowledge. The +emperour asked me many questions concerning my country and my travels; +and though I cannot now recollect any thing that he uttered above the +power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at his wisdom, and +enamoured of his goodness. + +"My credit was now so high, that the merchants, with whom I had +travelled, applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the court. +I was surprised at their confidence of solicitation, and gently +reproached them with their practices on the road. They heard me with +cold indifference, and showed no tokens of shame or sorrow. + +"They then urged their request with the offer of a bribe; but what I +would not do for kindness, I would not do for money; and refused them, +not because they had injured me, but because I would not enable them to +injure others; for I knew they would have made use of my credit to cheat +those who should buy their wares. + +"Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, I +travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence, +and observed many new accommodations of life. The Persians are a nation +eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities +of remarking characters and manners, and of tracing human nature through +all its variations. + +"From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation at once pastoral +and warlike; who live without any settled habitation; whose only wealth +is their flocks and herds; and who have yet carried on, through all +ages, an hereditary war with all mankind, though they neither covet nor +envy their possessions." + +CHAP. X. + +IMLAC'S HISTORY CONTINUED. A DISSERTATION UPON POETRY. + +"Wherever I went, I found that poetry was considered as the highest +learning, and regarded with a veneration, somewhat approaching to that +which man would pay to the angelick nature. And yet it fills me with +wonder, that, in almost all countries, the most ancient poets are +considered as the best: whether it be that every other kind of knowledge +is an acquisition gradually attained, and poetry is a gift conferred at +once; or that the first poetry of every nation surprised them as a +novelty, and retained the credit by consent, which it received by +accident at first: or whether, as the province of poetry is to describe +nature and passion, which are always the same, the first writers took +possession of the most striking objects for description, and the most +probable occurrences for fiction, and left nothing to those that +followed them, but transcription of the same events, and new +combinations of the same images. Whatever be the reason, it is commonly +observed, that the early writers are in possession of nature, and their +followers of art: that the first excel in strength and invention, and +the latter in elegance and refinement. + +"I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraternity. I read +all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat, by memory, +the volumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca. But I soon found, +that no man was ever great by imitation. My desire of excellence +impelled me to transfer my attention to nature and to life. Nature was +to be my subject, and men to be my auditors: I could never describe what +I had not seen; I could not hope to move those with delight or terrour, +whose interest and opinions I did not understand. + +"Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw every thing with a new purpose; +my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified: no kind of knowledge was +to be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts for images and +resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of the forest and +flower of the valley. I observed, with equal care, the crags of the rock +and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I wandered along the mazes of +the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summer clouds. To +a poet, nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever is +dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination: he must be conversant +with all that is awfully vast, or elegantly little. The plants of the +garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors +of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible +variety; for every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of +moral or religious truth; and he, who knows most, will have most power +of diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remote +allusions and unexpected instruction. + +"All the appearances of nature I was, therefore, careful to study, and +every country, which I have surveyed, has contributed something to my +poetical powers." + +"In so wide a survey," said the prince, "you must surely have left much +unobserved. I have lived till now, within the circuit of these +mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of something, +which I had never beheld before, or never heeded." + +"The business of a poet," said Imlac, "is to examine, not the +individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large +appearances: he does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe +the different shades in the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit, in +his portraits of nature, such prominent and striking features, as recall +the original to every mind; and must neglect the minuter +discriminations, which one may have remarked, and another have +neglected, for those characteristicks which are alike obvious to +vigilance and carelessness. + +"But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet; he must be +acquainted, likewise, with all the modes of life. His character +requires, that he estimate the happiness and misery of every condition; +observe the power of all the passions in all their combinations, and +trace the changes of the human mind, as they are modified by various +institutions, and accidental influences of climate or custom, from the +sprightliness of infancy to the despondence of decrepitude. He must +divest himself of the prejudices of his age or country; he must consider +right and wrong in their abstracted and invariable state; he must +disregard present laws and opinions, and rise to general and +transcendental truths, which will always be the same; he must, +therefore, content himself with the slow progress of his name; contemn +the applause of his own time, and commit his claims to the justice of +posterity. He must write, as the interpreter of nature, and the +legislator of mankind, and consider himself, as presiding over the +thoughts and manners of future generations; as a being superiour to time +and place. + +"His labour is not yet at an end: he must know many languages and many +sciences; and, that his style may be worthy of his thoughts, must, by +incessant practice, familiarize to himself every delicacy of speech and +grace of harmony." + +CHAP. XI. + +IMLAC'S NARRATIVE CONTINUED. A HINT ON PILGRIMAGE. + +Imlac now felt the enthusiastick fit, and was proceeding to aggrandize +his own profession, when the prince cried out: "Enough! thou hast +convinced me, that no human being can ever be a poet. Proceed with thy +narration." + +"To be a poet," said Imlac, "is, indeed, very difficult." "So +difficult," returned the prince, "that I will, at present, hear no more +of his labours. Tell me whither you went, when you had seen Persia." + +"From Persia," said the poet, "I travelled through Syria, and for three +years resided in Palestine, where I conversed with great numbers of the +northern and western nations of Europe; the nations which are now in +possession of all power and all knowledge; whose armies are +irresistible, and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the globe. +When I compared these men with the natives of our own kingdom, and those +that surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings. In their +countries it is difficult to wish for any thing that may not be +obtained: a thousand arts, of which we never heard, are continually +labouring for their convenience and pleasure; and whatever their own +climate has denied them is supplied by their commerce." + +"By what means," said the prince, "are the Europeans thus powerful, or +why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa, for trade or +conquest, cannot the Asiaticks and Africans invade their coasts, plant +colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes? The +same wind that carries them back would bring us thither." + +"They are more powerful, sir, than we," answered Imlac, "because they +are wiser; knowledge will always predominate over ignorance, as man +governs the other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours, I +know not what reason can be given, but the unsearchable will of the +supreme being." + +"When," said the prince, with a sigh, "shall I be able to visit +Palestine, and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations? Till that +happy moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such +representations as thou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the motive +that assembles such numbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as +the centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best and wisest men of +every land must be continually resorting." + +"There are some nations," said Imlac, "that send few visitants to +Palestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe concur to +censure pilgrimage, as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous." + +"You know," said the prince, "how little my life has made me acquainted +with diversity of opinions; it will be too long to hear the arguments on +both sides; you, that have considered them, tell me the result." + +"Pilgrimage," said Imlac, "like many other acts of piety, may be +reasonable or superstitious, according to the principles upon which it +is performed. Long journeys, in search of truth, are not commanded. +Truth, such as is necessary to the regulation of life, is always found +where it is honestly sought. Change of place is no natural cause of the +increase of piety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of mind. Yet, +since men go every day to view the fields where great actions have been +performed, and return with stronger impressions of the event, curiosity +of the same kind may naturally dispose us to view that country whence +our religion had its beginning; and, I believe, no man surveys those +awful scenes without some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the +supreme being may be more easily propitiated in one place than in +another, is the dream of idle superstition; but that some places may +operate upon our own minds in an uncommon manner, is an opinion which +hourly experience will justify[a]. He who supposes that his vices may be +more successfully combated in Palestine, will, perhaps, find himself +mistaken, yet he may go thither without folly; he who thinks they will +be more freely pardoned, dishonours, at once, his reason and religion." + +"These," said the prince, "are European distinctions. I will consider +them another time. What have you found to be the effect of knowledge? +Are those nations happier than we?" + +"There is so much infelicity," said the poet, "in the world, that scarce +any man has leisure, from his own distresses, to estimate the +comparative happiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means +of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind +feels of increasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which +nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity, in which the soul sits +motionless and torpid, for want of attraction; and, without knowing why, +we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we forget. I am, +therefore, inclined to conclude, that, if nothing counteracts the +natural consequence of learning, we grow more happy, as our minds take a +wider range. + +"In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many +advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseases, +with which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies of weather, +which they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of many +laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There is such +communication between distant places, that one friend can hardly be said +to be absent from another. Their policy removes all publick +inconveniencies: they have roads cut through their mountains, and +bridges laid upon their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of +life, their habitations are more commodious, and their possessions are +more secure." + +"They are surely happy," said the prince, "who have all these +conveniencies, of which I envy none so much as the facility with which +separated friends interchange their thoughts." + +"The Europeans," answered Imlac, "are less unhappy than we, but they are +not happy. Human life is everywhere a state, in which much is to be +endured, and little to be enjoyed." + +[a] See Idler, No. 33, and note: and read, in Dr. Clarke's travels, the +effect produced on his mind by the distant prospect of the Holy +City, and by the habitual reverence of his guides. The passage +exemplifies the sublime in narrative. See his Travels in Greece, +Egypt, and the Holy Land, part ii. sect. i. 8vo. ed. vol. iv. p. +288.--Ed. + +CHAP. XII. + +THE STORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED. + +"I am not yet willing," said the prince, "to suppose, that happiness is +so parsimoniously distributed to mortals; nor can believe but that, if I +had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every day with +pleasure. I would injure no man, and should provoke no resentment: I +would relieve every distress, and should enjoy the benedictions of +gratitude. I would choose my friends among the wise, and my wife among +the virtuous; and, therefore, should be in no danger from treachery or +unkindness. My children should, by my care, be learned and pious, and +would repay to my age what their childhood had received. What would dare +to molest him, who might call, on every side, to thousands enriched by +his bounty, or assisted by his power? And why should not life glide +quietly away in the soft reciprocation of protection and reverence? All +this may be done without the help of European refinements, which appear, +by their effects, to be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them, +and pursue our journey." + +"From Palestine," said Imlac, "I passed through many regions of Asia; in +the more civilized kingdoms, as a trader, and among the barbarians of +the mountains, as a pilgrim. At last, I began to long for my native +country, that I might repose, after my travels and fatigues, in the +places where I had spent my earliest years, and gladden my old +companions, with the recital of my adventures. Often did I figure to +myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours of dawning life, +sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my tales, and listening to +my counsels. + +"When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered every +moment as wasted, which did not bring me nearer to Abissinia. I hastened +into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detained ten months +in the contemplation of its ancient magnificence, and in inquiries after +the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo a mixture of all +nations; some brought thither by the love of knowledge, some by the hope +of gain, and many by the desire of living, after their own manner, +without observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes: +for in a city, populous as Cairo, it is possible to obtain, at the same +time, the gratifications of society, and the secrecy of solitude. + +"From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red sea, passing +along the coast, till I arrived at the port from which I had departed +twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan, and reentered my +native country. + +"I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen, and the congratulations of +my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever value he +had set upon riches, would own, with gladness and pride, a son, who was +able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation. But I was soon +convinced that my thoughts were vain. My father had been dead fourteen +years, having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to +some other provinces. Of my companions, the greater part was in the +grave; of the rest, some could, with difficulty, remember me, and some +considered me, as one corrupted by foreign manners. + +"A man, used to vicissitudes, is not easily dejected. I forgot, after a +time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself to the +nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their tables, heard my story, +and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach. I then +resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestick life, and addressed a +lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit, because my +father was a merchant. + +"Wearied, at last, with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide +myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or +caprice of others. I waited for the time, when the gate of the happy +valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear: the day +came; my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned +myself with joy to perpetual confinement." + +"Hast thou here found happiness at last?" said Rasselas. "Tell me, +without reserve; art thou content with thy condition? or, dost thou wish +to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valley +celebrate their lot, and, at the annual visit of the emperour, invite +others to partake of their felicity." + +"Great prince," said Imlac, "I shall speak the truth; I know not one of +all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered this +retreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete +with images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure. I can amuse my +solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my +memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past life. Yet all +this ends in the sorrowful consideration, that my acquirements are now +useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest, +whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either +corroded by malignant passions, or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual +vacancy." + +"What passions can infest those," said the prince, "who have no rivals? +We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and where all envy +is repressed by community of enjoyments." + +"There may be community," said Imlac, "of material possessions, but +there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen, that +one will please more than another; he that knows himself despised will +always be envious; and still more envious and malevolent, if he is +condemned to live in the presence of those who despise him. The +invitations, by which they allure others to a state which they feel to +be wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. They +are weary of themselves, and of each other, and expect to find relief in +new companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited, +and would gladly see all mankind imprisoned like themselves. + +"From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that he is +wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who are +annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawful +for me to warn them of their danger." + +"My dear Imlac," said the prince, "I will open to thee my whole heart. I +have long meditated an escape from the happy valley. I have examined +the mountains on every side, but find myself insuperably barred: teach +me the way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of my flight, +the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my sole director +in the CHOICE OF LIFE." + +"Sir," answered the poet, "your escape will be difficult, and, perhaps, +you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure to +yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea +foaming with tempests, and boiling with whirlpools; you will be +sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed +against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions +and anxieties, you will wish, a thousand times, for these seats of +quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from fear." + +"Do not seek to deter me from my purpose," said the prince: "I am +impatient to see what thou hast seen; and, since thou art thyself weary +of the valley, it is evident that thy former state was better than this. +Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am resolved to judge, +with mine own eyes, of the various conditions of men, and then to make, +deliberately, my CHOICE OF LIFE. + +"I am afraid," said Imlac, "you are hindered by stronger restraints than +my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not counsel +you to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill." + +CHAP. XIII. + +RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE. + +The prince now dismissed his favourite to rest, but the narrative of +wonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation. He revolved all +that he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the morning. + +Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whom he could +impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him in his +designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with silent +vexation. He thought that even the happy valley might be endured, with +such a companion, and that, if they could range the world together, he +should have nothing further to desire. + +In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. The prince +and Imlac then walked out together, to converse, without the notice of +the rest. The prince, whose thoughts were always on the wing, as he +passed by the gate, said, with a countenance of sorrow, "Why art thou so +strong, and why is man so weak?" + +"Man is not weak," answered his companion; "knowledge is more than +equivalent to force. The master of mechanicks laughs at strength. I can +burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other expedient must be +tried." + +As they were walking on the side of the mountain, they observed that the +conies, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken shelter +among the bushes, and formed holes behind them, tending upwards, in an +oblique line. "It has been the opinion of antiquity," said Imlac, "that +human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of animals; let us, +therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning from the cony. We +may escape, by piercing the mountain in the same direction. We will +begin, where the summit hangs over the middle part, and labour upwards, +till we shall issue up beyond the prominence." + +The eyes of the prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with joy. +The execution was easy, and the success certain. + +No time was now lost. They hastened, early in the morning, to choose a +place proper for their mine. They clambered, with great fatigue, among +crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any part that +favoured their design. The second and the third day were spent in the +same manner, and with the same frustration. But, on the fourth, they +found a small cavern, concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to +make their experiment. + +Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth, and +they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness than vigour. +They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down to pant +upon the grass. The prince, for a moment, appeared to be discouraged. +"Sir," said his companion, "practice will enable us to continue our +labour for a longer time; mark, however, how far we have advanced, and +you will find, that our toil will sometime have an end. Great works are +performed, not by strength, but perseverance: yonder palace was raised +by single stones, yet you see its height and spaciousness. He that shall +walk with vigour three hours a day, will pass, in seven years, a space +equal to the circumference of the globe." + +They returned to their work day after day, and, in a short time, found a +fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little +obstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen. "Do not disturb +your mind," said Imlac, "with other hopes or fears than reason may +suggest; if you are pleased with prognosticks of good, you will be +terrified, likewise, with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a +prey to superstition. Whatever facilitates our work is more than an +omen, it is a cause of success. This is one of those pleasing surprises +which often happen to active resolution. Many tilings, difficult to +design, prove easy to performance." + +CHAP. XIV. + +RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT. + +They had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced their toil +with the approach of liberty, when the prince, coming down to refresh +himself with air, found his sister Nekayah, standing before the mouth of +the cavity. He started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his design, +yet hopeless to conceal it. A few moments determined him to repose on +her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration without reserve. + +"Do not imagine," said the princess, "that I came hither, as a spy: I +had long observed, from my window, that you and Imlac directed your walk +every day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you had any +better reason for the preference than a cooler shade, or more fragrant +bank; nor followed you with any other design than to partake of your +conversation. Since, then, not suspicion, but fondness, has detected +you, let me not lose the advantage of my discovery. I am equally weary +of confinement with yourself, and not less desirous of knowing what is +done or suffered in the world. Permit me to fly with you from this +tasteless tranquillity, which will yet grow more loathsome when you have +left me. You may deny me to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from +following." + +The prince, who loved Nekayah, above his other sisters, had no +inclination to refuse her request, and grieved, that he had lost an +opportunity of showing his confidence by a voluntary communication. It +was, therefore, agreed, that she should leave the valley with them; and +that, in the mean time, she should watch, lest any other straggler +should, by chance or curiosity, follow them to the mountain. + +At length their labour was at an end; they saw light beyond the +prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the Nile, +yet a narrow current, wandering beneath them. + +The prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures of +travel, and, in thought, was already transported beyond his father's +dominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectation +of pleasure in the world, which he had before tried, and of which he had +been weary. + +Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could not +soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed his sister, +that the way was open, and that nothing now remained but to prepare for +their departure. + +CHAP. XV. + +THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY WONDERS. + +The prince and princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich, +whenever they came into a place of commerce, which, by Imlac's +direction, they hid in their clothes, and, on the night of the next full +moon, all left the valley. The princess was followed only by a single +favourite, who did not know whither she was going. + +They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the other +side. The princess and her maid turned their eyes towards every part, +and, seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered themselves, as +in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They stopped and trembled. +"I am almost afraid," said the princess, "to begin a journey, of which I +cannot perceive an end, and to venture into this immense plain, where I +may be approached, on every side, by men whom I never saw." The prince +felt nearly the same emotions, though he thought it more manly to +conceal them. + +Imlac smiled at their terrours, and encouraged them to proceed; but the +princess continued irresolute, till she had been, imperceptibly, drawn +forward too far to return. + +In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set milk and +fruits before them. The princess wondered, that she did not see a palace +ready for her reception, and a table spread with delicacies; but, being +faint and hungry, she drank the milk, and eat the fruits, and thought +them of a higher flavour than the produce of the valley. + +They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed to toil +or difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed, they could +not be pursued. In a few days they came into a more populous region, +where Imlac was diverted with the admiration, which his companions +expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and employments. + +Their dress was such, as might not bring upon them the suspicion of +having any thing to conceal; yet the prince, wherever he came, expected +to be obeyed; and the princess was frightened, because those that came +into her presence did not prostrate themselves before her. Imlac was +forced to observe them with great vigilance, lest they should betray +their rank by their unusual behaviour, and detained them several weeks +in the first village, to accustom them to the sight of common mortals. + +By degrees, the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they had, +for a time, laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only such +regard, as liberality and courtesy could procure. And Imlac having, by +many admonitions, prepared them to endure the tumults of a port, and the +ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to the seacoast. + +The prince and his sister, to whom every thing was new, were gratified +equally at all places, and, therefore, remained, for some months, at the +port, without any inclination to pass further. Imlac was content with +their stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised +in the world, to the hazards of a foreign country. + +At last he began to fear, lest they should be discovered, and proposed +to fix a day for their departure. They had no pretensions to judge for +themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction. He, +therefore, took passage in a ship to Suez; and, when the time came, with +great difficulty, prevailed on the princess to enter the vessel. They +had a quick and prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land to +Cairo. + +CHAP. XVI. + +THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY. + +As they approached the city, which filled the strangers with +astonishment, "This," said Imlac to the prince, "is the place where +travellers and merchants assemble from all the corners of the earth. You +will here find men of every character, and every occupation. Commerce is +here honourable: I will act as a merchant, and you shall live as +strangers, who have no other end of travel than curiosity; it will soon +be observed that we are rich; our reputation will procure us access to +all whom we shall desire to know; you will see all the conditions of +humanity, and enable yourself, at leisure, to make your CHOICE OF LIFE." + +They now entered the town, stunned by the noise, and offended by the +crowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit, but that they +wondered to see themselves pass, undistinguished, along the street, and +met, by the lowest of the people, without reverence or notice. The +princess could not, at first, bear the thought of being levelled with +the vulgar, and, for some days, continued in her chamber, where she was +served by her favourite, Pekuah, as in the palace of the valley. + +Imlac, who understood traffick, sold part of the jewels the next day, +and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence, that he was +immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth. His politeness +attracted many acquaintance, and his generosity made him courted by many +dependants. His table was crowded by men of every nation, who all +admired his knowledge, and solicited his favour. His companions, not +being able to mix in the conversation, could make no discovery of their +ignorance or surprise, and were gradually initiated in the world, as +they gained knowledge of the language. + +The prince had, by frequent lectures, been taught the use and nature of +money; but the ladies could not, for a long time, comprehend what the +merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of so +little use should be received as equivalent to the necessaries of life. + +They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to set +before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He grew +acquainted with all who had any thing uncommon in their fortune or +conduct. He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the +busy, the merchants and the men of learning. + +The prince, being now able to converse with fluency, and having learned +the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse with strangers, +began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and to enter into all +assemblies, that he might make his CHOICE OF LIFE. + +For some time, he thought choice needless, because all appeared, to him, +equally happy. Wherever he went he met gaiety and kindness, and heard +the song of joy, or the laugh of carelessness. He began to believe, that +the world overflowed with universal plenty, and that nothing was +withheld either from want or merit; that every hand showered liberality, +and every heart melted with benevolence; "and who then," says he, "will +be suffered to be wretched?" + +Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the +hope of inexperience, till one day, having sat awhile silent, "I know +not," said the prince, "what can be the reason, that I am more unhappy +than any of our friends. I see them perpetually and unalterably +cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy. I am unsatisfied +with those pleasures which I seem most to court; I live in the crowds of +jollity, not so much to enjoy company, as to shun myself, and am only +loud and merry to conceal my sadness." + +"Every man," said Imlac, "may, by examining his own mind, guess what +passes in the minds of others: when you feel that your own gaiety is +counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companions +not to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are long before we +are convinced, that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it +possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself. +In the assembly, where you passed the last night, there appeared such +sprightliness of air, and volatility of fancy, as might have suited +beings of a higher order, formed to inhabit serener regions, +inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet, believe me, prince, there was not +one who did not dread the moment, when solitude should deliver him to +the tyranny of reflection." + +"This" said the prince, "may be true of others, since it is true of me; +yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is more +happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil +in the CHOICE OF LIFE." + +"The causes of good and evil," answered Imlac, "are so various and +uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified by various +relations, and so much subject to accidents, which cannot be foreseen, +that he, who would fix his condition upon incontestable reasons of +preference, must live and die inquiring and deliberating." + +"But surely," said Rasselas, "the wise men, to whom we listen with +reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves, which they +thought most likely to make them happy." + +"Very few," said the poet, "live by choice. Every man is placed in his +present condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and with +which he did not always willingly cooperate; and, therefore, you will +rarely meet one, who does not think the lot of his neighbour better than +his own." + +"I am pleased to think," said the prince, "that my birth has given me, +at least, one advantage over others, by enabling me to determine for +myself. I have here the world before me; I will review it at leisure: +surely happiness is somewhere to be found." + +CHAP. XVII. + +THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND GAIETY. + +Rasselas rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments upon life. +"Youth," cried he, "is the time of gladness: I will join myself to the +young men, whose only business is to gratify their desires, and whose +time is all spent in a succession of enjoyments." + +To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days brought him +back, weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images; their +laughter without motive; their pleasures were gross and sensual, in +which the mind had no part; their conduct was, at once, wild and mean; +they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of power dejected, and +the eye of wisdom abashed them. + +The prince soon concluded, that he should never be happy in a course of +life, of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a reasonable +being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful only by chance. +"Happiness," said he, "must be something solid and permanent, without +fear and without uncertainty." + +But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by their +frankness and courtesy, that he could not leave them, without warning +and remonstrance. "My friends," said he "I have seriously considered our +manners and our prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own +interest. The first years of man must make provision for the last. He +that never thinks, never can be wise. Perpetual levity must end in +ignorance; and intemperance, though it may fire the spirits for an hour, +will make life short or miserable. Let us consider, that youth is of no +long duration, and that, in maturer age, when the enchantments of fancy +shall cease, and phantoms of delight dance no more about us, we shall +have no comforts but the esteem of wise men, and the means of doing +good. Let us, therefore, stop, while to stop is in our power: let us +live as men who are sometime to grow old, and to whom it will be the +most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies, and to +be reminded of their former luxuriance of health, only by the maladies +which riot has produced." + +They stared awhile, in silence, one upon another, and, at last, drove +him away by a general chorus of continued laughter. + +The consciousness that his sentiments were just, and his intentions +kind, was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horrour of +derision. But he recovered his tranquillity, and pursued his search. + +CHAP. XVIII. + +THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN. + +As he was one day walking in the street, he saw a spacious building, +which all were, by the open doors, invited to enter: he followed the +stream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which +professors read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye upon a +sage, raised above the rest, who discoursed, with great energy, on the +government of the passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful, +his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant. He showed, with great +strength of sentiment, and variety of illustration, that human nature is +degraded and debased, when the lower faculties predominate over the +higher; that when fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion of +the mind, nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government, +perturbation and confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the +intellect to rebels, and excites her children to sedition against +reason, their lawful sovereign. He compared reason to the sun, of which +the light is constant, uniform, and lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of +bright but transitory lustre, irregular in its motion, and delusive in +its direction. + +He then communicated the various precepts given, from time to time, for +the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who had +obtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave +of fear, nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed by +anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks on +calmly through the tumults, or privacies of life, as the sun pursues +alike his course through the calm or the stormy sky. + +He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or pleasure, who +looked with indifference on those modes or accidents, to which the +vulgar give the names of good and evil. He exhorted his hearers to lay +aside their prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts of malice +or misfortune, by invulnerable patience; concluding, that this state +only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every one's power. + +Rasselas listened to him, with the veneration due to the instructions of +a superiour being, and, waiting for him at the door, humbly implored the +liberty of visiting so great a master of true wisdom. The lecturer +hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse of gold into his hand, +which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder. + +"I have found," said the prince, at his return to Imlac, "a man who can +teach all that is necessary to be known; who, from the unshaken throne +of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changing beneath +him. He speaks, and attention watches his lips. He reasons, and +conviction closes his periods. This man shall be my future guide: I will +learn his doctrines, and imitate his life." + +"Be not too hasty," said Imlac, "to trust, or to admire the teachers of +morality: they discourse, like angels, but they live, like men." + +Rasselas, who could not conceive, how any man could reason so forcibly, +without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visit in a +few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned the power of +money, and made his way, by a piece of gold, to the inner apartment, +where he found the philosopher, in a room half-darkened, with his eyes +misty, and his face pale. "Sir," said he, "you are come at a time when +all human friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot be remedied, what +I have lost cannot be supplied. My daughter, my only daughter, from +whose tenderness I expected all the comforts of my age, died last night +of a fever. My views, my purposes, my hopes are at an end: I am now a +lonely being, disunited from society." + +"Sir," said the prince, "mortality is an event by which a wise man can +never be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it should, +therefore, always be expected." "Young man," answered the philosopher, +"you speak like one that has never felt the pangs of separation." "Have +you then forgot the precepts," said Rasselas, "which you so powerfully +enforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity? +Consider, that external things are naturally variable, but truth and +reason are always the same." "What comfort," said the mourner, "can +truth and reason afford me? Of what effect are they now, but to tell me, +that my daughter will not be restored?" + +The prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with +reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sound, and +the inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences. + +CHAP. XIX. + +A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE. + +He was still eager upon the same inquiry: and having heard of a hermit, +that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled the whole +country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat, +and inquire, whether that felicity, which publick life could not afford, +was to be found in solitude; and whether a man, whose age and virtue +made him venerable, could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils, or +enduring them? + +Imlac and the princess agreed to accompany him, and, after the necessary +preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay through the +fields, where shepherds tended their flocks, and the lambs were playing +upon the pasture. "This," said the poet, "is the life which has been +often celebrated for its innocence and quiet; let us pass the heat of +the day among the shepherds' tents, and know, whether all our searches +are not to terminate in pastoral simplicity." + +The proposal pleased them, and they induced the shepherds, by small +presents and familiar questions, to tell their opinion of their own +state: they were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the +good with the evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in their +narratives and descriptions, that very little could be learned from +them. But it was evident, that their hearts were cankered with +discontent; that they considered themselves, as condemned to labour for +the luxury of the rich, and looked up, with stupid malevolence, toward +those that were placed above them. + +The princess pronounced with vehemence, that she would never suffer +these envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not soon +be desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustick happiness; but could +not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures were fabulous; +and was yet in doubt, whether life had any thing that could be justly +preferred to the placid gratifications of fields and woods. She hoped, +that the time would come, when, with a few virtuous and elegant +companions, she should gather flowers, planted by her own hand, fondle +the lambs of her own ewe, and listen, without care, among brooks and +breezes, to one of her maidens reading in the shade. + +CHAP. XX. + +THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY. + +On the next day they continued their journey, till the heat compelled +them to look round for shelter. At a small distance, they saw a thick +wood, which they no sooner entered, than they perceived that they were +approaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were diligently cut away +to open walks, where the shades were darkest; the boughs of opposite +trees were artificially interwoven; seats of flowery turf were raised in +vacant spaces, and a rivulet, that wantoned along the side of a winding +path, had its banks sometimes opened into small basins, and its streams +sometimes obstructed by little mounds of stone, heaped together to +increase its murmurs. + +They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected +accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing, what, or +who, he could be, that, in those rude and unfrequented regions, had +leisure and art for such harmless luxury. + +As they advanced, they heard the sound of musick, and saw youths and +virgins dancing in the grove; and, going still further, beheld a stately +palace, built upon a hill, surrounded with woods. The laws of eastern +hospitality allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed them, like a +man liberal and wealthy. + +He was skilful enough in appearances, soon to discern that they were no +common guests, and spread his table with magnificence. The eloquence of +Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of the princess +excited his respect. When they offered to depart, he entreated their +stay, and was the next day still more unwilling to dismiss them than +before. They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up, in +time, to freedom and confidence. + +The prince now saw all the domesticks cheerful, and all the face of +nature smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that he +should find here what he was seeking; but when he was congratulating the +master upon his possessions, he answered, with a sigh: "My condition +has, indeed, the appearance of happiness, but appearances are delusive. +My prosperity puts my life in danger; the bassa of Egypt is my enemy, +incensed only by my wealth and popularity. I have been, hitherto, +protected against him by the princes of the country; but, as the favour +of the great is uncertain, I know not, how soon my defenders may be +persuaded to share the plunder with the bassa. I have sent my treasures +into a distant country, and, upon the first alarm, am prepared to follow +them. Then will my enemies riot in my mansion, and enjoy the gardens +which I have planted." + +They all joined in lamenting his danger, and deprecating his exile; and +the princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of grief and +indignation, that she retired to her apartment. They continued with +their kind inviter a few days longer, and then went forward to find the +hermit. + +CHAP. XXI. + +THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE. THE HERMIT'S HISTORY. + +They came, on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to the +hermit's cell: it was a cavern, in the side of a mountain, over-shadowed +with palm-trees; at such a distance from the cataract, that nothing more +was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composed the mind to +pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the wind +whistling among the branches. The first rude essay of nature had been so +much improved by human labour, that the cave contained several +apartments, appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodging +to travellers, whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake. + +The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the +evening. On one side lay a book, with pens and papers, on the other, +mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him +unregarded, the princess observed, that he had not the countenance of a +man that had found, or could teach the way to happiness. + +They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid, like a man not +unaccustomed to the forms of courts. "My children," said he, "if you +have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such +conveniencies, for the night, as this cavern will afford. I have all +that nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a hermit's +cell." + +They thanked him, and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and +regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before them, +though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was cheerful +without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon gained the esteem +of his guests, and the princess repented of her hasty censure. + +At last Imlac began thus: "I do not now wonder that your reputation is +so far extended; we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came hither +to implore your direction for this young man and maiden, in the CHOICE +OF LIFE." + +"To him that lives well," answered the hermit, "every form of life is +good; nor can I give any other rule for choice, than to remove from all +apparent evil." + +"He will remove most certainly from evil," said the prince, "who shall +devote himself to that solitude, which you have recommended by your +example." + +"I have, indeed, lived fifteen years in solitude," said the hermit, "but +have no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth I +professed arms, and was raised, by degrees, to the highest military +rank. I have traversed wide countries, at the head of my troops, and +seen many battles and sieges. At last, being disgusted by the preferment +of a younger officer, and feeling, that my vigour was beginning to +decay, I was resolved to close my life in peace, having found the world +full of snares, discord, and misery. I had once escaped from the pursuit +of the enemy by the shelter of this cavern, and, therefore, chose it for +my final residence. I employed artificers to form it into chambers, and +stored it with all that I was likely to want. + +"For some time after my retreat, I rejoiced, like a tempest-beaten +sailor at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden +change of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and repose. When the +pleasure of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining the +plants which grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected from +the rocks. But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome. I have +been, for some time, unsettled and distracted; my mind is disturbed with +a thousand perplexities of doubt, and vanities of imagination, which +hourly prevail upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation or +diversion. I am sometimes ashamed to think, that I could not secure +myself from vice, but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin +to suspect, that I was rather impelled by resentment, than led by +devotion, into solitude. My fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I +lament, that I have lost so much, and have gained so little. In +solitude, if I escape the example of bad men, I want, likewise, the +counsel and conversation of the good. I have been long comparing the +evils with the advantages of society, and resolve to return into the +world to-morrow. The life of a solitary man will be certainly miserable, +but not certainly devout." + +They heard his resolution with surprise, but, after a short pause, +offered to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasure, +which he had hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, on +which, as he approached it, he gazed with rapture. + +CHAP. XXII. + +THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE, LED ACCORDING TO NATURE. + +Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met, at stated +times, to unbend their minds, and compare their opinions. Their manners +were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive, and their +disputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continued, +till neither controvertist remembered, upon what question they began. +Some faults were almost general among them; every one was desirous to +dictate to the rest, and every one was pleased to hear the genius or +knowledge of another depreciated. + +In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit, +and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life, which +he had so deliberately chosen, and so laudably followed. The sentiments +of the hearers were various. Some were of opinion, that the folly of his +choice had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetual +perseverance. One of the youngest among them, with great vehemence, +pronounced him a hypocrite. Some talked of the right of society to the +labour of individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion of duty. +Others readily allowed, that there was a time, when the claims of the +publick were satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, +to review his life, and purify his heart. One, who appeared more +affected with the narrative than the rest, thought it likely, that the +hermit would, in a few years, go back to his retreat, and, perhaps, if +shame did not restrain, or death intercept him, return once more from +his retreat into the world: "For the hope of happiness," said he "is so +strongly impressed, that the longest experience is not able to efface +it. Of the present state, whatever it may be, we feel, and are forced to +confess, the misery; yet, when the same state is again at a distance, +imagination paints it as desirable. But the time will surely come, when +desire will be no longer our torment, and no man shall be wretched, but +by his own fault." + +"This," said a philosopher, who had heard him with tokens of great +impatience, "is the present condition of a wise man. The time is already +come, when none are wretched, but by their own fault. Nothing is more +idle, than to inquire after happiness, which nature has kindly placed +within our reach. The way to be happy is to live according to nature, in +obedience to that universal and unalterable law, with which every heart +is originally impressed; which is not written on it by precept, but +engraven by destiny, not instilled by education, but infused at our +nativity. He that lives according to nature will suffer nothing from the +delusions of hope, or importunities of desire; he will receive and +reject with equability of temper; and act or suffer, as the reason of +things shall alternately prescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with +subtile definitions, or intricate ratiocinations. Let them learn to be +wise by easier means; let them observe the hind of the forest, and the +linnet of the grove; let them consider the life of animals, whose +motions are regulated by instinct; they obey their guide, and are happy. +Let us, therefore, at length, cease to dispute, and learn to live; throw +away the incumbrance of precepts, which they, who utter them, with so +much pride and pomp, do not understand, and carry with us this simple +and intelligible maxim: That deviation from nature is deviation from +happiness." + +When he had spoken, he looked round him with a placid air, and enjoyed +the consciousness of his own beneficence. "Sir," said the prince, with +great modesty, "as I, like all the rest of mankind, am desirous of +felicity, my closest attention has been fixed upon your discourse: I +doubt not the truth of a position, which a man so learned has, so +confidently, advanced. Let me only know, what it is to live according to +nature." + +"When I find young men so humble and so docile," said the philosopher, +"I can deny them no information which my studies have enabled me to +afford. To live according to nature, is to act always with due regard to +the fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and +effects; to concur with the great and unchangeable scheme of universal +felicity; to cooperate with the general disposition and tendency of the +present system of things." + +The prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should +understand less, as he heard him longer. He, therefore, bowed, and was +silent, and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the rest +vanquished, rose up and departed, with the air of a man that had +cooperated with the present system. + +CHAP. XXIII. + +THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK OF OBSERVATION. + +Rasselas returned home full of reflections, doubtful how to direct his +future steps. Of the way to happiness, he found the learned and simple +equally ignorant; but, as he was yet young, he flattered himself that he +had time remaining for more experiments, and further inquiries. He +communicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but was answered +by him with new doubts, and remarks that gave him no comfort. He, +therefore, discoursed more frequently and freely with his sister, who +had yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted him to give some +reason why, though he had been, hitherto, frustrated, he might succeed +at last. + +"We have, hitherto," said she, "known but little of the world: we have +never yet been either great or mean. In our own country, though we had +royalty, we had no power; and, in this, we have not yet seen the private +recesses of domestick peace. Imlac favours not our search, lest we +should, in time, find him mistaken. We will divide the task between us: +you shall try what is to be found in the splendour of courts, and I will +range the shades of humbler life. Perhaps command and authority may be +the supreme blessings, as they afford most opportunities of doing good: +or, perhaps, what this world can give may be found in the modest +habitations of middle fortune, too low for great designs, and too high +for penury and distress." + +CHAP. XXIV. + +THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS. + +Rasselas applauded the design, and appeared, next day, with a splendid +retinue at the court of the bassa. He was soon distinguished for his +magnificence, and admitted as a prince, whose curiosity had brought him +from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers, and +frequent conversation with the bassa himself. + +He was, at first, inclined to believe, that the man must be pleased with +his own condition, whom all approached with reverence, and heard with +obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts, to a whole +kingdom. "There can be no pleasure," said he, "equal to that of feeling, +at once, the joy of thousands, all made happy by wise administration. +Yet, since by the law of subordination, this sublime delight can be in +one nation but the lot of one, it is, surely, reasonable to think, that +there is some satisfaction more popular and accessible; and that +millions can hardly be subjected to the will of a single man, only to +fill his particular breast with incommunicable content." + +These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of the +difficulty. But, as presents and civilities gained him more familiarity, +he found that almost every man, who stood high in employment, hated all +the rest, and was hated by them, and that their lives were a continual +succession of plots and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction and +treachery. Many of those, who surrounded the bassa, were sent only to +watch and report his conduct; every tongue was muttering censure, and +every eye was searching for a fault. + +At last the letters of revocation arrived, the bassa was carried in +chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more. + +"What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?" said Rasselas +to his sister: "is it without any efficacy to good? or, is the +subordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and glorious? Is +the sultan the only happy man in his dominions? or, is the sultan +himself subject to the torments of suspicion, and the dread of enemies?" + +In a short time the second bassa was deposed. The sultan, that had +advanced him, was murdered by the janizaries, and his successour had +other views, and different favourites. + +CHAP. XXV. + +THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE THAN SUCCESS. + +The princess, in the mean time, insinuated herself into many families; +for there are few doors, through which liberality, joined with good-humour, +cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were airy and +cheerful, but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the conversation +of Imlac and her brother, to be much pleased with childish levity, and +prattle, which had no meaning. She found their thoughts narrow, their +wishes low, and their merriment often artificial. Their pleasures, poor +as they were, could not be preserved pure, but were imbittered by petty +competitions, and worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the +beauty of each other; of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing, +and from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love with +triflers, like themselves, and many fancied that they were in love, +when, in truth, they were only idle. Their affection was not fixed on +sense or virtue, and, therefore, seldom ended but in vexation. Their +grief, however, like their joy, was transient; every thing floated in +their mind, unconnected with the past or future; so that one desire +easily gave way to another, as a second stone, cast into the water, +effaces and confounds the circles of the first. + +With these girls she played, as with inoffensive animals, and found them +proud of her countenance, and weary of her company. + +But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability easily +persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow, to discharge their +secrets in her ear: and those, whom hope flattered, or prosperity +delighted, often courted her to partake their pleasures. + +The princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a private +summer house, on the bank of the Nile, and related to each other the +occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together, the princess cast +her eyes upon the river that flowed before her. "Answer," said she, +"great father of waters, thou that rollest thy floods through eighty +nations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native king. Tell me, +if thou waterest, through all thy course, a single habitation from which +thou dost not hear the murmurs of complaint?" + +"You are then," said Rasselas, "not more successful in private houses, +than I have been in courts." "I have, since the last partition of our +provinces," said the princess, "enabled myself to enter familiarly into +many families, where there was the fairest show of prosperity and peace, +and know not one house that is not haunted by some fury, that destroys +their quiet. + +"I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that, there, it +could not be found. But I saw many poor, whom I had supposed to live in +affluence. Poverty has, in large cities, very different appearances; it +is often concealed in splendour, and often in extravagance. It is the +care of a very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the +rest; they support themselves by temporary expedients, and every day is +lost in contriving for the morrow. + +"This, however, was an evil, which, though frequent, I saw with less +pain, because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my bounties; +more offended with my quickness to detect their wants, than pleased with +my readiness to succour them: and others, whose exigencies compelled +them to admit my kindness, have never been able to forgive their +benefactress. Many, however, have been sincerely grateful, without the +ostentation of gratitude, or the hope of other favours." + +CHAP. XXVI. + +THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE. + +Nekayah, perceiving her brother's attention fixed, proceeded in her +narrative. + +"In families, where there is, or is not, poverty, there is commonly +discord: if a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a family, +likewise, is a little kingdom, torn with factions, and exposed to +revolutions. An unpractised observer expects the love of parents and +children to be constant and equal; but this kindness seldom continues +beyond the years of infancy; in a short time the children become rivals +to their parents. Benefits are allayed by reproaches, and gratitude +debased by envy. + +"Parents and children seldom act in concert: each child endeavours to +appropriate the esteem, or fondness of the parents; and the parents, +with yet less temptation, betray each other to their children; thus some +place their confidence in the father, and some in the mother, and, by +degrees, the house is filled with artifices and feuds. + +"The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old, are +naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and despondence, of +expectation and experience, without crime or folly on either side. The +colours of life, in youth and age, appear different, as the face of +nature, in spring and winter. And how can children credit the assertions +of parents, which their own eyes show them to be false? + +"Few parents act in such a manner, as much to enforce their maxims, by +the credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slow contrivance +and gradual progression: the youth expects to force his way by genius, +vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard to riches, and the +youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies prudence: the youth commits +himself to magnanimity and chance. The young man, who intends no ill, +believes that none is intended, and, therefore, acts with openness and +candour: but his father, having suffered the injuries of fraud, is +impelled to suspect, and, too often, allured to practise it. Age looks +with anger on the temerity of youth, and youth with contempt on the +scrupulosity of age. Thus parents and children, for the greatest part, +live on to love less and less: and, if those whom nature has thus +closely united are the torments of each other, where shall we look for +tenderness and consolation?" + +"Surely," said the prince, "you must have been unfortunate in your +choice of acquaintance: I am unwilling to believe, that the most tender +of all relations is thus impeded, in its effects, by natural necessity." + +"Domestick discord," answered she, "is not inevitably and fatally +necessary; but yet it is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a whole +family is virtuous: the good and evil cannot well agree: and the evil +can yet less agree with one another: even the virtuous fall, sometimes, +to variance, when their virtues are of different kinds, and tending to +extremes. In general, those parents have most reverence who most deserve +it: for he that lives well cannot be despised. + +"Many other evils infest private life. Some are the slaves of servants, +whom they have trusted with their affairs. Some are kept in continual +anxiety, by the caprice of rich relations, whom they cannot please, and +dare not offend. Some husbands are imperious, and some wives perverse: +and, as it is always more easy to do evil than good, though the wisdom +or virtue of one can very rarely make many happy, the folly or vice of +one may often make many miserable." + +"If such be the general effect of marriage," said the prince, "I shall, +for the future, think it dangerous to connect my interest with that of +another, lest I should be unhappy by my partner's fault." + +"I have met," said the princess, "with many who live single for that +reason; but I never found that their prudence ought to raise envy. They +dream away their time without friendship, without fondness, and are +driven to rid themselves of the day, for which they have no use, by +childish amusements, or vitious delights. They act as beings under the +constant sense of some known inferiority, that fills their minds with +rancour, and their tongues with censure. They are peevish at home, and +malevolent abroad; and, as the outlaws of human nature, make it their +business and their pleasure to disturb that society, which debars them +from its privileges. To live without feeling or exciting sympathy; to be +fortunate without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without +tasting the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude: it is +not retreat, but exclusion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, but +celibacy has no pleasures." + +"What then is to be done?" said Rasselas; "the more we inquire, the less +we can resolve. Surely he is most likely to please himself, that has no +other inclination to regard." + +CHAP. XXVII. + +DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS. + +The conversation had a short pause. The prince, having considered his +sister's observations, told her that she had surveyed life with +prejudice, and supposed misery where she did not find it. "Your +narrative," says he, "throws yet a darker gloom upon the prospects of +futurity: the predictions of Imlac were but faint sketches of the evils +painted by Nekayah. I have been lately convinced, that quiet is not the +daughter of grandeur, or of power: that her presence is not to be bought +by wealth, nor enforced by conquest. It is evident, that as any man acts +in a wider compass, he must be more exposed to opposition from enmity, +or miscarriage from chance; whoever has many to please or to govern, +must use the ministry of many agents, some of whom will be wicked, and +some ignorant; by some he will be misled, and by others betrayed. If he +gratifies one, he will offend another: those that are not favoured will +think themselves injured; and, since favours can be conferred but upon +few, the greater number will be always discontented." + +"The discontent," said the princess, "which is thus unreasonable, I +hope, that I shall always have spirit to despise, and you power to +repress." + +"Discontent," answered Rasselas, "will not always be without reason +under the most just and vigilant administration of publick affairs. +None, however attentive, can always discover that merit, which indigence +or faction may happen to obscure; and none, however powerful, can always +reward it. Yet, he that sees inferiour desert advanced above him, will +naturally impute that preference to partiality or caprice; and, indeed, +it can scarcely be hoped that any man, however magnanimous by nature, or +exalted by condition, will be able to persist, for ever, in the fixed +and inexorable justice of distribution; he will sometimes indulge his +own affections, and sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit +some to please him who can never serve him; he will discover in those +whom he loves, qualities which, in reality, they do not possess; and to +those, from whom he receives pleasure, he will, in his turn, endeavour +to give it. Thus will recommendations sometimes prevail, which were +purchased by money, or by the more destructive bribery of flattery and +servility. + +"He that has much to do will do something wrong, and, of that wrong must +suffer the consequences; and, if it were possible that he should always +act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of his conduct, the bad +will censure and obstruct him by malevolence, and the good sometimes by +mistake. + +"The highest stations cannot, therefore, hope to be the abodes of +happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from thrones and +palaces to seats of humble privacy, and placid obscurity. For what can +hinder the satisfaction, or intercept the expectations of him, whose +abilities are adequate to his employments; who sees, with his own eyes, +the whole circuit of his influence; who chooses, by his own knowledge, +all whom he trusts; and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or +fear? Surely he has nothing to do, but to love and to be loved, to be +virtuous and to be happy." + +"Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness," said +Nekayah, "this world will never afford an opportunity of deciding. But +this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not always find visible +happiness, in proportion to visible virtue. All natural, and almost all +political evils, are incident alike to the bad and good; they are +confounded in the misery of a famine, and not much distinguished in the +fury of a faction; they sink together in a tempest, and are driven +together from their country by invaders. All that virtue can afford is +quietness of conscience, a steady prospect of a happier state; this may +enable us to endure calamity with patience; but remember, that patience +must suppose pain. + +CHAP. XXVIII. + +RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION. + +"Dear princess," said Rasselas, "you fall into the common errours of +exaggeratory declamation, by producing, in a familiar disquisition, +examples of national calamities, and scenes of extensive misery, which +are found in books, rather than in the world, and which, as they are +horrid, are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils which we do +not feel, nor injure life by misrepresentations; I cannot bear that +querulous eloquence, which threatens every city with a siege, like that +of Jerusalem, that makes famine attend on every flight of locusts, and +suspends pestilence on the wing of every blast that issues from the +south. + +"On necessary and inevitable evils, which overwhelm kingdoms at once, +all disputation is vain: when they happen they must be endured. But it +is evident, that these bursts of universal distress are more dreaded +than felt; thousands, and ten thousands, flourish in youth, and wither +in age, without the knowledge of any other than domestick evils, and +share the same pleasures and vexations, whether their kings are mild or +cruel, whether the armies of their country pursue their enemies, or +retreat before them. While courts are disturbed with intestine +competitions, and ambassadours are negotiating in foreign countries, the +smith still plies his anvil, and the husbandman drives his plough +forward; the necessaries of life are required and obtained; and the +successive business of the seasons continues to make its wonted +revolutions. + +"Let us cease to consider what, perhaps, may never happen, and what, +when it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation. We will not +endeavour to modify the motions of the elements, or to fix the destiny +of kingdoms. It is our business to consider what beings, like us, may +perform; each labouring for his own happiness, by promoting, within his +circle, however narrow, the happiness of others. + +"Marriage is evidently the dictate of nature; men and women are made to +be companions of each other; and, therefore, I cannot be persuaded, but +that marriage is one of the means of happiness." + +"I know not," said the princess, "whether marriage be more than one of +the innumerable modes of human misery. When I see, and reckon, the +various forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of lasting +discord, the diversities of temper, the oppositions of opinion, the rude +collisions of contrary desire, where both are urged by violent impulses, +the obstinate contests of disagreeable virtues, where both are supported +by consciousness of good intention, I am, sometimes, disposed to think, +with the severer casuists of most nations, that marriage is rather +permitted than approved, and that none, but by the instigation of a +passion, too much indulged, entangle themselves with indissoluble +compacts." + +"You seem to forget," replied Rasselas, "that you have, even now, +represented celibacy, as less happy than marriage. Both conditions may +be bad, but they cannot both be worst. Thus it happens, when wrong +opinions are entertained, that they mutually destroy each other, and +leave the mind open to truth." + +"I did not expect," answered the princess, "to hear that imputed to +falsehood, which is the consequence only of frailty. To the mind, as to +the eye, it is difficult to compare, with exactness, objects, vast in +their extent, and various in their parts. Where we see, or conceive, the +whole at once, we readily note the discriminations, and decide the +preference: but of two systems, of which neither can be surveyed, by any +human being, in its full compass of magnitude, and multiplicity of +complication, where is the wonder, that, judging of the whole by parts, +I am alternately affected by one and the other, as either presses on my +memory or fancy? We differ from ourselves, just as we differ from each +other, when we see only part of the question, as in the multifarious +relations of politicks and morality; but when we perceive the whole at +once, as in numerical computations, all agree in one judgment, and none +ever varies his opinion." + +"Let us not add," said the prince, "to the other evils of life, the +bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each other in +subtilties of argument. We are employed in a search, of which both are +equally to enjoy the success, or suffer by the miscarriage. It is, +therefore, fit that we assist each other. You, surely, conclude too +hastily from the infelicity of marriage against its institution: will +not the misery of life prove equally, that life cannot be the gift of +heaven? The world must be peopled by marriage, or peopled without it." + +"How the world is to be peopled," returned Nekayah, "is not my care, and +needs not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation should +omit to leave successours behind them: we are not now inquiring for the +world, but for ourselves." + +CHAP. XXIX. + +THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE CONTINUED. + +"The good of the whole," says Rasselas, "is the same with the good of +all its parts. If marriage be best for mankind, it must be evidently +best for individuals, or a permanent and necessary duty must be the +cause of evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed to the convenience +of others. In the estimate, which you have made of the two states, it +appears, that the incommodities of a single life are, in a great +measure, necessary and certain, but those of the conjugal state, +accidental and avoidable. + +"I cannot forbear to flatter myself, that prudence and benevolence will +make marriage happy. The general folly of mankind is the cause of +general complaint. What can be expected, but disappointment and +repentance, from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the ardour +of desire, without judgment, without foresight, without inquiry after +conformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of judgment, or +purity of sentiment? + +"Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden, meeting by +chance, or brought together by artifice, exchange glances, reciprocate +civilities, go home, and dream of one another. Having little to divert +attention, or diversify thought, they find themselves uneasy, when they +are apart, and, therefore, conclude that they shall be happy together. +They marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness before had +concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge nature with +cruelty. + +"From those early marriages proceeds, likewise, the rivalry of parents +and children; the son is eager to enjoy the world, before the father is +willing to forsake it, and there is hardly room, at once, for two +generations. The daughter begins to bloom, before the mother can be +content to fade, and neither can forbear to wish for the absence of the +other. + +"Surely all these evils may be avoided, by that deliberation and delay, +which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the variety and +jollity of youthful pleasures, life may be well enough supported, +without the help of a partner. Longer time will increase experience, and +wider views will allow better opportunities of inquiry and selection: +one advantage, at least, will be certain; the parents will be visibly +older than their children." + +"What reason cannot collect," said Nekayah, "and what experiment has not +yet taught, can be known only from the report of others. I have been +told, that late marriages are not eminently happy. This is a question +too important to be neglected, and I have often proposed it to those, +whose accuracy of remark, and comprehensiveness of knowledge, made their +suffrages worthy of regard. They have generally determined, that it is +dangerous for a man and woman to suspend their fate upon each other, at +a time, when opinions are fixed, and habits are established; when +friendships have been contracted on both sides; when life has been +planned into method, and the mind has long enjoyed the contemplation of +its own prospects. + +"It is scarcely possible that two, travelling through the world, under +the conduct of chance, should have been both directed to the same path, +and it will not often happen, that either will quit the track which +custom has made pleasing. When the desultory levity of youth has settled +into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride, ashamed to yield, or +obstinacy, delighting to contend. And, even though mutual esteem +produces mutual desire to please, time itself, as it modifies +unchangeably the external mien, determines, likewise, the direction of +the passions, and gives an inflexible rigidity to the manners. Long +customs are not easily broken: he that attempts to change the course of +his own life, very often labours in vain; and how shall we do that for +others, which we are seldom able to do for ourselves!" + +"But, surely," interposed the prince, "you suppose the chief motive of +choice forgotten or neglected. Whenever I shall seek a wife, it shall be +my first question, whether she be willing to be led by reason." + +"Thus it is," said Nekayah, "that philosophers are deceived. There are a +thousand familiar disputes, which reason can never decide; questions +that elude investigation, and make logick ridiculous; cases where +something must be done, and where little can be said. Consider the state +of mankind, and inquire how few can be supposed to act, upon any +occasions, whether small or great, with all the reasons of action +present to their minds. Wretched would be the pair, above all names of +wretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust by reason, every morning, +all the minute detail of a domestick day. + +"Those who marry at an advanced age, will, probably, escape the +encroachments of their children; but, in diminution of this advantage, +they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless, to a +guardian's mercy; or, if that should not happen, they must, at least, go +out of the world, before they see those whom they love best, either wise +or great. + +"From their children, if they have less to fear, they have less also to +hope; and they lose, without equivalent, the joys of early love, and the +convenience of uniting with manners pliant, and minds susceptible of new +impressions, which might wear away their dissimilitudes by long +cohabitation, as soft bodies, by continual attrition, conform their +surfaces to each other. + +"I believe it will be found, that those who marry late, are best pleased +with their children, and those who marry early with their partners." + +"The union of these two affections," said Rasselas, "would produce all +that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time, when marriage might unite +them, a time neither too early for the father, nor too late for the +husband." + +"Every hour," answered the princess, "confirms my prejudice in favour of +the position, so often uttered by the mouth of Imlac: 'That nature sets +her gifts on the right hand and on the left.' Those conditions, which +flatter hope and attract desire, are so constituted, that, as we +approach one, we recede from another. There are goods so opposed, that +we cannot seize both, but, by too much prudence, may pass between them, +at too great a distance to reach either. This is often the fate of long +consideration; he does nothing, who endeavours to do more than is +allowed to humanity. Flatter not yourself with contrarieties of +pleasure. Of the blessings set before you make your choice, and be +content. No man can taste the fruits of autumn, while he is delighting +his scent with the flowers of the spring; no man can, at the same time, +fill his cup from the source and from the mouth of the Nile." + +CHAP. XXX. + +IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION. + +Here Imlac entered, and interrupted them. "Imlac," said Rasselas, "I +have been taking from the princess the dismal history of private life, +and am almost discouraged from further search." + +"It seems to me," said Imlac, "that, while you are making the choice of +life, you neglect to live. You wander about a single city, which, +however large and diversified, can now afford few novelties, and forget +that you are in a country, famous among the earliest monarchies for the +power and wisdom of its inhabitants; a country, where the sciences first +dawned that illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts cannot be +traced of civil society or domestick life. + +"The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry and +power, before which all European magnificence is confessed to fade away. +The ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern builders; and, +from the wonders which time has spared, we may conjecture, though +uncertainly, what it has destroyed." + +"My curiosity," said Rasselas, "does not very strongly lead me to survey +piles of stone, or mounds of earth; my business is with man. I came +hither not to measure fragments of temples, or trace choked aqueducts, +but to look upon the various scenes of the present world." + +"The things that are now before us," said the princess, "require +attention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or the +monuments of ancient times? with times which never can return, and +heroes, whose form of life was different, from all that the present +condition of mankind requires or allows?" + +"To know any thing," returned the poet, "we must know its effects; to +see men, we must see their works, that we may learn what reason has +dictated, or passion has incited, and find what are the most powerful +motives of action. To judge rightly of the present we must oppose it to +the past; for all judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing can +be known. The truth is, that no mind is much employed upon the present: +recollection and anticipation fill up almost all our moments. Our +passions are joy and grief, love and hatred, hope and fear. Of joy and +grief, the past is the object, and the future of hope and fear; even +love and hatred respect the past, for the cause must have been before +the effect. + +"The present state of things is the consequence of the former, and it is +natural to inquire, what were the sources of the good that we enjoy, or +the evil that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves, to neglect the +study of history is not prudent: if we are intrusted with the care of +others, it is not just. Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is criminal; +and he may properly be charged with evil, who refused to learn how he +might prevent it. + +"There is no part of history so generally useful, as that which relates +the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of reason, the +successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning and +ignorance, which are the light and darkness of thinking beings, the +extinction and resuscitation of arts, and the revolutions of the +intellectual world. If accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly +the business of princes, the useful or elegant arts are not to be +neglected; those who have kingdoms to govern, have understandings to +cultivate. + +"Example is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is formed in +war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this, contemplative life has +the advantage: great actions are seldom seen, but the labours of art are +always at hand, for those who desire to know what art has been able to +perform. + +"When the eye or the imagination is struck with an uncommon work, the +next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it was +performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation; we enlarge +our comprehension by new ideas, and, perhaps, recover some art lost to +mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our own country. At +least, we compare our own with former times, and either rejoice at our +improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good, discover our +defects." + +"I am willing," said the prince, "to see all that can deserve my +search." "And I," said the princess, "shall rejoice to learn something +of the manners of antiquity." + +"The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the most +bulky works of manual industry," said Imlac, "are the pyramids; fabricks +raised, before the time of history, and of which the earliest narratives +afford us only uncertain traditions. Of these, the greatest is still +standing, very little injured by time." + +"Let us visit them to-morrow," said Nekayah. "I have often heard of the +pyramids, and shall not rest, till I have seen them, within and without, +with my own eyes." + +CHAP. XXXI. + +THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS. + +The resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day. They laid +tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the pyramids, till +their curiosity was fully satisfied. They travelled gently, turned aside +to every thing remarkable, stopped, from time to time, and conversed +with the inhabitants, and observed the various appearances of towns +ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature. + +When they came to the great pyramid, they were astonished at the extent +of the base, and the height of the top. Imlac explained to them the +principles upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a fabrick, +intended to coextend its duration with that of the world: he showed, +that its gradual diminution gave it such stability, as defeated all the +common attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by +earthquakes themselves, the least resistible of natural violence. A +concussion that should shatter the pyramid, would threaten the +dissolution of the continent. + +They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot. +Next day they prepared to enter its interiour apartments, and, having +hired the common guides, climbed up to the first passage, when the +favourite of the princess, looking into the cavity, stepped back and +trembled. "Pekuah," said the princess, "of what art thou afraid?" "Of +the narrow entrance," answered the lady, "and of the dreadful gloom. I +dare not enter a place which must, surely, be inhabited by unquiet +souls. The original possessours of these dreadful vaults will start up +before us, and, perhaps, shut us in for ever[a]." She spoke, and threw +her arms round the neck of her mistress. + +"If all your fear be of apparitions," said the prince, "I will promise +you safety: there is no danger from the dead; he that is once buried +will be seen no more." + +"That the dead are seen no more," said Imlac, "I will not undertake to +maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages, and +of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whom +apparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion, +which perhaps, prevails, as far as human nature is diffused, could +become universal only by its truth: those that never heard of one +another, would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience +can make credible. That it is doubted by single cavillers, can very +little weaken the general evidence; and some, who deny it with their +tongues, confess it by their fears".[b] + +"Yet I do not mean to add new terrours to those which have already +seized upon Pekuah. There can be no reason, why spectres should haunt +the pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power or +will to hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no violation of their +privileges; we can take nothing from them, how then can we offend them?" + +"My dear Pekuah," said the princess, "I will always go before you, and +Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of the +princess of Abissinia." + +"If the princess is pleased that her servant should die," returned the +lady, "let her command some death less dreadful than enclosure in this +horrid cavern. You know, I dare not disobey you: I must go, if you +command me; but, if I once enter, I never shall come back." + +The princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation or +reproof, and, embracing her, told her, that she should stay in the tent, +till their return. Pekuah was yet not satisfied, but entreated the +princess not to pursue so dreadful a purpose, as that of entering the +rececess of the pyramid. "Though I cannot teach courage," said Nekayah, +"I must not learn cowardice; nor leave, at last, undone what I came +hither only to do." + +[a] It may not be unacceptable to our readers, to quote, in this place, +a stanza, from an Ode to Horror in the Student, ii. 313. It alludes +to the story of a French gentleman, who, going into the catacombs, +not far from Cairo, with some Arab guides, was there robbed by them, +and left; a huge stone being placed over the entrance. + + What felt the Gallic, traveller, + When far in Arab desert, drear, + He found within the catacomb, + Alive, the terrors of a tomb? + While many a mummy, through the shade, + In hieroglyphic stole arrayed, + Seem'd to uprear the mystic head, + And trace the gloom with ghostly tread; + Thou heard'st him pour the stifled groan, + Horror! his soul was all thy own! ED. + +[b] See Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions. It is to be regretted, that + Coleridge has never yet gratified the wish he professed to feel, in + the first volume of his Friend, p. 246, to devote an entire work to + the subject of dreams, visions, ghosts, witchcraft, &c; in it we + should have had the satisfaction of tracing the workings of a most + vivid imagination, analyzed by the most discriminating judgment. See + Barrow's sermon on the being of God, proved from supernatural + effects. We need scarcely request the reader to bear in mind, that + Barrow was a mathematician, and one of the most severe of + reasoners.--ED. + +CHAP. XXXII. + +THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID. + +Pekuah descended to the tents, and the rest entered the pyramid: they +passed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, and +examined the chest, in which the body of the founder is supposed to have +been reposited. They then sat down in one of the most spacious chambers, +to rest awhile before they attempted to return. + +"We have now," said Imlac, "gratified our minds with an exact view of +the greatest work of man, except the wall of China. + +"Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive. It secured a wealthy +and timorous nation from the incursions of barbarians, whose +unskilfulness in arts made it easier for them to supply their wants by +rapine than by industry, and who, from time to time, poured in upon the +habitations of peaceful commerce, as vultures descend upon domestick +fowl. Their celerity and fierceness, made the wall necessary, and their +ignorance made it efficacious. + +"But, for the pyramids, no reason has ever been given adequate to the +cost and labour of the work. The narrowness of the chambers proves that +it could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures might have been +reposited, at far less expense, with equal security. It seems to have +been erected only in compliance with that hunger of imagination, which +preys incessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by some +employment. Those who have already all that they can enjoy, must enlarge +their desires. He that has built for use, till use is supplied, must +begin to build for vanity, and extend his plan to the utmost power of +human performance, that he may not be soon reduced to form another wish. + +"I consider this mighty structure, as a monument of the insufficiency of +human enjoyments. A king, whose power is unlimited, and whose treasures +surmount all real and imaginary wants, is compelled to solace, by the +erection of a pyramid, the satiety of dominion and tastelessness of +pleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life, by seeing +thousands labouring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid +upon another. Whoever thou art, that, not content with a moderate +condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that +command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty, with perpetual +gratifications, survey the pyramids, and confess thy folly!" + +CHAP. XXXIII. + +THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. + +They rose up, and returned through the cavity, at which they had +entered, and the princess prepared for her favourite a long narrative of +dark labyrinths, and costly rooms, and of the different impressions, +which the varieties of the way had made upon her. But, when they came to +their train, they found every one silent and dejected: the men +discovered shame and fear in their countenances, and the women were +weeping in the tents. + +What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediately +inquired. "You had scarcely entered into the pyramid," said one of the +attendants, "when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us; we were too few to +resist them, and too slow to escape. They were about to search the +tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when the +approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight; but they seized +the lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them away: the Turks are +now pursuing them by our instigation, but, I fear, they will not be able +to overtake them." + +The princess was overpowered with surprise and grief. Rasselas, in the +first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants to follow him, and +prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand. "Sir," said +Imlac, "what can you hope from violence or valour? the Arabs are mounted +on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have only beasts of burden. +By leaving our present station we may lose the princess, but cannot hope +to regain Pekuah." + +In a short time, the Turks returned, having not been able to reach the +enemy. The princess burst out into new lamentations, and Rasselas could +scarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice; but Imlac was of +opinion, that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their +misfortune, for, perhaps, they would have killed their captives, rather +than have resigned them. + +CHAP. XXXIV. + +THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH. + +There was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned to Cairo, +repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of the +government, lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected to procure +a guard, imagining many expedients, by which the loss of Pekuah might +have been prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery, +though none could find any thing proper to be done. + +Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to comfort +her, by telling her, that all had their troubles, and that lady Pekuah +had enjoyed much happiness in the world, for a long time, and might +reasonably expect a change of fortune. They hoped, that some good would +befall her, wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would find +another friend, who might supply her place. + +The princess made them no answer, and they continued the form of +condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was +lost. + +Next day the prince presented, to the bassa, a memorial of the wrong +which he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The bassa threatened +to punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch them, nor, indeed, +could any account or description be given, by which he might direct the +pursuit. + +It soon appeared, that nothing would be done by authority. Governours, +being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can punish, and more +wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate +negligence, and presently forget the request, when they lose sight of +the petitioner. + +Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private agents. He +found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts of the +Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and who readily +undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Of these, some were furnished with +money for their journey, and came back no more; some were liberally paid +for accounts which a few days discovered to be false. But the princess +would not suffer any means, however improbable, to be left untried. +While she was doing something, she kept her hope alive. As one expedient +failed, another was suggested; when one messenger returned unsuccessful, +another was despatched to a different quarter. + +Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard; the +hopes, which they had endeavoured to raise in each other, grew more +languid, and the princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunk +down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand times she reproached +herself with the easy compliance, by which she permitted her favourite +to stay behind her. "Had not my fondness," said she, "lessened my +authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrours. She ought to +have feared me more than spectres. A severe look would have overpowered +her; a peremptory command would have compelled obedience. Why did +foolish indulgence prevail upon me? Why did I not speak, and refuse to +hear?" + +"Great princess," said Imlac, "do not reproach yourself for your virtue, +or consider that as blamable by which evil has accidentally been caused. +Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous and kind. When +we act according to our duty, we commit the event to him, by whose laws +our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to be finally +punished for obedience. When, in prospect of some good, whether natural +or moral, we break the rules prescribed us, we withdraw from the +direction of superiour wisdom, and take all consequences upon ourselves. +Man cannot so far know the connexion of causes and events, as that he +may venture to do wrong, in order to do right. When we pursue our end by +lawful means, we may always console our miscarriage by the hope of +future recompense. When we consult only our own policy, and attempt to +find a nearer way to good, by overleaping the settled boundaries of +right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success, because we cannot +escape the consciousness of our fault; but, if we miscarry, the +disappointment is irremediably imbittered. How comfortless is the sorrow +of him, who feels, at once, the pangs of guilt, and the vexation of +calamity, which guilt has brought upon him? + +"Consider, princess, what would have been your condition, if the lady +Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to stay in +the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have borne the +thought, if you had forced her into the pyramid, and she had died before +you in agonies of terrour?" + +"Had either happened," said Nekayah, "I could not have endured life till +now: I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance of such +cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself." + +"This, at least," said Imlac, "is the present reward of virtuous +conduct, that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it." + +CHAP. XXXV. + +THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH. + +Nekayah, being thus reconciled to herself, found, that no evil is +insupportable, but that which is accompanied with consciousness of +wrong. She was, from that time, delivered from the violence of +tempestuous sorrow, and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy +tranquillity. She sat, from morning to evening, recollecting all that +had been done or said by her Pekuah; treasured up, with care, every +trifle on which Pekuah had set an accidental value, and which might +recall to mind any little incident or careless conversation. The +sentiments of her, whom she now expected to see no more, were treasured +in her memory as rules of life, and she deliberated to no other end, +than to conjecture, on any occasion, what would have been the opinion +and counsel of Pekuah. + +The women, by whom she was attended, knew nothing of her real condition, +and, therefore, she could not talk to them, but with caution and +reserve. She began to remit her curiosity, having no great care to +collect notions which she had no convenience of uttering. Rasselas +endeavoured first to comfort, and afterwards to divert her; he hired +musicians, to whom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them, and +procured masters, to instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when +they visited her again, were again to be repeated. She had lost her +taste of pleasure, and her ambition of excellence. And her mind, though +forced into short excursions, always recurred to the image of her +friend. + +Imlac was, every morning, earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries, and +was asked, every night, whether he had yet heard of Pekuah, till, not +being able to return the princess the answer that she desired, he was +less and less willing to come into her presence. She observed his +backwardness, and commanded him to attend her. "You are not," said she, +"to confound impatience with resentment, or to suppose, that I charge +you with negligence, because I repine at your unsuccessfulness. I do not +much wonder at your absence; I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, +and that all naturally avoid the contagion of misery. To hear complaints +is wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy; for who would cloud, +by adventitious grief, the short gleams of gaiety which life allows us? +or who, that is struggling under his own evils, will add to them the +miseries of another? + +"The time is at hand, when none shall be disturbed any longer by the +sighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end. I am +resolved to retire from the world, with all its flatteries and deceits, +and will hide myself in solitude, without any other care than to compose +my thoughts, and regulate my hours by a constant succession of innocent +occupations, till, with a mind purified from all earthly desires, I +shall enter into that state, to which all are hastening, and in which I +hope again to enjoy the friendship of Pekuah." + +"Do not entangle your mind," said Imlac, "by irrevocable determinations, +nor increase the burden of life by a voluntary accumulation of misery: +the weariness of retirement will continue or increase, when the loss of +Pekuah is forgotten. That you have been deprived of one pleasure, is no +very good reason for rejection of the rest." + +"Since Pekuah was taken from me," said the princess, "I have no pleasure +to reject or to retain. She that has no one to love or trust has little +to hope. She wants the radical principle of happiness. We may, perhaps, +allow that what satisfaction this world can afford, must arise from the +conjunction of wealth, knowledge, and goodness. Wealth is nothing, but +as it is bestowed, and knowledge nothing, but as it is communicated: +they must, therefore, be imparted to others, and to whom could I now +delight to impart them? Goodness affords the only comfort, which can be +enjoyed without a partner, and goodness may be practised in retirement." + +"How far solitude may admit goodness, or advance it, I shall not," +replied Imlac, "dispute at present. Remember the confession of the pious +hermit. You will wish to return into the world, when the image of your +companion has left your thoughts." "That time," said Nekayah, "will +never come. The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness, and the +faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah, will always be more missed, as I +shall live longer to see vice and folly." + +"The state of a mind, oppressed with a sudden calamity," said Imlac, "is +like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new-created earth, who, +when the first night came upon them, supposed that day would never +return. When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond +them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet a new day +succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn of ease. +But they who restrain themselves from receiving comfort, do as the +savages would have done, had they put out their eyes when it was dark. +Our minds, like our bodies, are in continual flux; something is hourly +lost, and something acquired. To lose much, at once, is inconvenient to +either, but, while the vital powers remain uninjured, nature will find +the means of reparation. Distance has the same effect on the mind, as on +the eye, and, while we glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave +behind us, is always lessening, and that which we approach increasing in +magnitude. Do not suffer life to stagnate; it will grow muddy for want +of motion: commit yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah +will vanish by degrees; you will meet, in your way, some other +favourite, or learn to diffuse yourself in general conversation." + +"At least," said the prince, "do not despair before all remedies have +been tried; the inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued, +and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on condition that +you will promise to wait a year for the event, without any unalterable +resolution." + +Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her +brother, who had been advised, by Imlac, to require it. Imlac had, +indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah, but he supposed, that, if he +could secure the interval of a year, the princess would be then in no +danger of a cloister. + +CHAP. XXXVI. + +PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED. THE PROGRESS OF SORROW. + +Nekayah, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her +favourite, and having, by her promise, set her intention of retirement +at a distance, began, imperceptibly, to return to common cares, and +common pleasures. She rejoiced, without her own consent, at the +suspension of her sorrows, and sometimes caught herself, with +indignation, in the act of turning away her mind from the remembrance of +her, whom yet she resolved never to forget. + +She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the +merits and fondness of Pekuah, and, for some weeks, retired constantly, +at the time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen, and her +countenance clouded. By degrees, she grew less scrupulous, and suffered +any important and pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily +tears. She then yielded to less occasions; sometimes forgot what she +was, indeed, afraid to remember, and, at last, wholly released herself +from the duty of periodical affliction. + +Her real love of Pekuah was yet not diminished. A thousand occurrences +brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which nothing but the +confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted. She, +therefore, solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave no +art of intelligence untried, that, at least, she might have the comfort +of knowing, that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. "Yet, +what," said she, "is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when +we find the state of life to be such, that happiness itself is the cause +of misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that, of which the +possession cannot be secured? I shall, henceforward, fear to yield my +heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, +lest I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah." + +CHAP. XXXVII. + +THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH. + +In seven months, one of the messengers, who had been sent away, upon the +day when the promise was drawn from the princess, returned, after many +unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that +Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle, or +fortress, on the extremity of Egypt. The Arab, whose revenue was +plunder, was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, for two +hundred ounces of gold. + +The price was no subject of debate. The princess was in ecstasies when +she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply be +ransomed. She could not think of delaying, for a moment, Pekuah's +happiness or her own, but entreated her brother to send back the +messenger with the sum required. Imlac, being consulted, was not very +confident of the veracity of the relater, and was still more doubtful of +the Arab's faith, who might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain, +at once, the money and the captives. He thought it dangerous to put +themselves in the power of the Arab, by going into his district, and +could not expect that the rover would so much expose himself as to come +into the lower country, where he might be seized by the forces of the +bassa. + +It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac, after +some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose, that Pekuah should +be conducted, by ten horsemen, to the monastery of St. Anthony, which is +situated in the deserts of upper Egypt, where she should be met by the +same number, and her ransome should be paid. + +That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal would not +be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery; and, +when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messenger to the +Arab's fortress. Rasselas was desirous to go with them; but neither his +sister nor Imlac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom of his +nation, observed the laws of hospitality, with great exactness, to those +who put themselves into his power, and, in a few days, brought Pekuah, +with her maids, by easy journeys, to the place appointed, where, +receiving the stipulated price, he restored her, with great respect, to +liberty and her friends, and undertook to conduct them back towards +Cairo, beyond all danger of robbery or violence. + +The princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport, too +violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of +tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and +gratitude. After a few hours, they returned into the refectory of the +convent, where, in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the +prince required of Pekuah the history of her adventures. + +CHAP. XXXVIII. + +THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH. + +"At what time, and in what manner I was forced away," said Pekuah, "your +servants have told you. The suddenness of the event struck me with +surprise, and I was, at first, rather stupified, than agitated with any +passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was increased by the +speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed by the Turks, +who, as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of +those whom they made a show of menacing. + +"When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their +course, and, as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to +feel more uneasiness in my mind. After some time, we stopped near a +spring, shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set upon +the ground, and offered such refreshments, as our masters were +partaking. I was suffered to sit, with my maids, apart from the rest, +and none attempted to comfort or insult us. Here I first began to feel +the full weight of my misery. The girls sat weeping in silence, and, +from time to time, looked on me for succour. I knew not to what +condition we were doomed, nor could conjecture where would be the place +of our captivity, or whence to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in +the hands of robbers and savages, and had no reason to suppose, that +their pity was more than their justice, or that they would forbear the +gratification of any ardour of desire, or caprice of cruelty. I, +however, kissed my maids, and endeavoured to pacify them, by remarking, +that we were yet treated with decency, and that, since we were now +carried beyond pursuit, there was no danger of violence to our lives. + +"When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round me, and +refused to be parted, but I commanded them not to irritate those who had +us in their power. We travelled, the remaining part of the day, through +an unfrequented and pathless country, and came, by moonlight, to the +side of a hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed. Their tents +were pitched, and their fires kindled, and our chief was welcomed, as a +man much beloved by his dependants. + +"We were received into a large tent, where we found women, who had +attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us the +supper, which they had provided, and I ate rather to encourage my maids +than to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat was taken +away, they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hoped to +find, in sleep, that remission of distress which nature seldom denies. +Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I observed that the women +looked submissively attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they +were, apparently, struck with the splendour of my clothes, and one of +them timorously laid her hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, +and, in a short time, came back with another woman, who seemed to be of +higher rank and greater authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual +act of reverence, and, taking me by the hand, placed me in a smaller +tent, spread with finer carpets, where I spent the night quietly with my +maids. + +"In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troop +came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with great +respect. 'Illustrious lady,' said he, 'my fortune is better than I had +presumed to hope; I am told, by my women, that I have a princess in my +camp.' 'Sir,' answered I, 'your women have deceived themselves and you; +I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger, who intended soon to have +left this country, in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.' +'Whoever, or whencesoever, you are,' returned the Arab, 'your dress, and +that of your servants, show your rank to be high, and your wealth to be +great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransome, think +yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose of my incursions +is to increase my riches, or, more properly, to gather tribute. The sons +of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part of the +continent, which is usurped by late invaders, and low-born tyrants, from +whom we are compelled to take, by the sword, what is denied to justice. +The violence of war admits no distinction: the lance that is lifted at +guilt and power, will, sometimes, fall on innocence and gentleness.' + +"'How little,' said I, 'did I expect that yesterday it should have +fallen upon me!' + +"'Misfortunes,' answered the Arab, 'should always be expected. If the +eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence, like yours, +had been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread their +toils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the +mean. Do not be disconsolate: I am not one of the lawless and cruel +rovers of the desert; I know the rules of civil life: I will fix your +ransome, give a passport to your messenger, and perform my stipulation, +with nice punctuality.' + +"You will easily believe, that I was pleased with his courtesy: and, +finding, that his predominant passion was desire of money, I began now +to think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought too +great for the release of Pekuah. I told him, that he should have no +reason to charge me with ingratitude, if I was used with kindness, and +that any ransome, which could be expected for a maid of common rank, +would be paid; but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He +said he would consider what he should demand, and then, smiling, bowed +and retired. + +"Soon after the women came about me, each contending to be more +officious than the other, and my maids, themselves, were served with +reverence. We travelled onwards by short journeys. On the fourth day the +chief told me, that my ransome must be two hundred ounces of gold; which +I not only promised him, but told him, that I would add fifty more, if I +and my maids were honourably treated. + +"I never knew the power of gold before. From that time, I was the leader +of the troop. The march of every day was longer, or shorter, as I +commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest. We now had +camels, and other conveniencies for travel; my own women were always at +my side, and I amused myself with observing the manners of the vagrant +nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices, with which these +deserted countries appear to have been, in some distant age, lavishly +embellished. + +"The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able to +travel by the stars, or the compass, and had marked, in his erratick +expeditions, such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger. +He observed to me, that buildings are always best preserved in places +little frequented, and difficult of access: for, when once a country +declines from its primitive splendour, the more inhabitants are left, +the quicker ruin will be made. Walls supply stones more easily than +quarries, and palaces and temples will be demolished, to make stables of +granite, and cottages of porphyry. + +CHAP. XXXIX. + +THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH CONTINUED. + +"We wandered about, in this manner, for some weeks, whether, as our +chief pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for +some convenience of his own. I endeavoured to appear contented, where +sullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and that endeavour +conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart was always with +Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much overbalanced the amusements +of the day. My women, who threw all their cares upon their mistress, set +their minds at ease, from the time when they saw me treated with +respect, and gave themselves up to the incidental alleviations of our +fatigue, without solicitude or sorrow. I was pleased with their +pleasure, and animated with their confidence. My condition had lost much +of its terrour, since I found that the Arab ranged the country merely to +get riches. Avarice is an uniform and tractable vice: other intellectual +distempers are different in different constitutions of mind; that which +sooths the pride of one, will offend the pride of another; but to the +favour of the covetous, there is a ready way: bring money, and nothing +is denied. + +"At last we came to the dwelling of our chief, a strong and spacious +house, built with stone, in an island of the Nile, which lies, as I was +told, under the tropick. 'Lady,' said the Arab, 'you shall rest, after +your journey, a few weeks, in this place, where you are to consider +yourself as sovereign. My occupation is war; I have, therefore, chosen +this obscure residence, from which I can issue unexpected, and to which +I can retire unpursued. You may now repose in security: here are few +pleasures, but here is no danger.' He then led me into the inner +apartments, and seating me on the richest couch, bowed to the ground. +His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me with malignity; +but, being soon informed that I was a great lady, detained only for my +ransome, they began to vie with each other in obsequiousness and +reverence. + +"Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty, I was, for +some days, diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place. The +turrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and afforded a view +of many windings of the stream. In the day, I wandered from one place to +another, as the course of the sun varied the splendour of the prospect, +and saw many things which I had never seen before. The crocodiles and +river-horses, are common in this unpeopled region, and I often looked +upon them with terrour, though I knew that they could not hurt me. For +some time I expected to see mermaids and tritons, which, as Imlac has +told me, the European travellers have stationed in the Nile, but no such +beings ever appeared, and the Arab, when I inquired after them, laughed +at my credulity. + +"At night the Arab always attended me to a tower, set apart for +celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names and +courses of the stars. I had no great inclination to this study, but an +appearance of attention was necessary to please my instructer, who +valued himself for his skill; and, in a little while, I found some +employment requisite to beguile the tediousness of time, which was to be +passed always amidst the same objects. I was weary of looking in the +morning, on things from which I had turned away weary in the evening. I, +therefore, was, at last, willing to observe the stars, rather than do +nothing, but could not always compose my thoughts, and was very often +thinking on Nekayah, when others imagined me contemplating the sky. Soon +after the Arab went upon another expedition, and then my only pleasure +was to talk with my maids, about the accident by which we were carried +away, and the happiness that we should all enjoy at the end of our +captivity." + +"There were women in your Arab's fortress," said the princess, "why did +you not make them your companions, enjoy their conversation, and partake +their diversions'? In a place, where they found business or amusement, +why should you alone sit corroded with idle melancholy? or, why could +not you bear, for a few months, that condition to which they were +condemned for life?" + +"The diversions of the women," answered Pekuah, "were only childish +play, by which the mind, accustomed to stronger operations, could not be +kept busy. I could do all which they delighted in doing by powers merely +sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were flown to Cairo. They +ran, from room to room, as a bird hops, from wire to wire, in his cage. +They danced for the sake of motion, as lambs frisk in a meadow. One +sometimes pretended to be hurt, that the rest might be alarmed; or hid +herself, that another might seek her. Part of their time passed in +watching the progress of light bodies, that floated on the river, and +part, in marking the various forms into which clouds broke in the sky. + +"Their business was only needlework in which I and my maids, sometimes +helped them; but you know that the mind will easily straggle from the +fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and absence from Nekayah +could receive solace from silken flowers. + +"Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation: for of +what could they be expected to talk? They had seen nothing; for they had +lived, from early youth, in that narrow spot: of what they had not seen +they could have no knowledge, for they could not read. They had no ideas +but of the few things that were within their view, and had hardly names +for any thing but their clothes and their food. As I bore a superiour +character, I was often called to terminate their quarrels, which I +decided as equitably as I could. If it could have amused me to hear the +complaints of each against the rest, I might have been often detained by +long stories; but the motives of their animosity were so small, that I +could not listen without intercepting the tale." + +"How," said Rasselas, "can the Arab, whom you represented as a man of +more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in his seraglio, +when it is filled only with women like these? Are they exquisitely +beautiful?" + +"They do not," said Pekuah, "want that unaffecting and ignoble beauty, +which may subsist without sprightliness or sublimity, without energy of +thought, or dignity of virtue. But to a man, like the Arab, such beauty +was only a flower, casually plucked, and carelessly thrown away. +Whatever pleasures he might find among them, they were not those of +friendship or society. When they were playing about him, he looked on +them with inattentive superiority: when they vied for his regard, he +sometimes turned away disgusted. As they had no knowledge, their talk +could take nothing from the tediousness of life; as they had no choice, +their fondness, or appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pride +nor gratitude; he was not exalted in his own esteem by the smiles of a +woman, who saw no other man, nor was much obliged by that regard, of +which he could never know the sincerity, and which he might often +perceive to be exerted, not so much to delight him, as to pain a rival. +That which he gave, and they received, as love, was only a careless +distribution of superfluous time, such love as man can bestow upon that +which he despises, such as has neither hope nor fear, neither joy nor +sorrow." + +"You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy," said Imlac, "that you +have been thus easily dismissed. How could a mind, hungry for knowledge, +be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a banquet as +Pekuah's conversation?" + +"I am inclined to believe," answered Pekuah, "that he was, for sometime, +in suspense; for, notwithstanding his promise, whenever I proposed to +despatch a messenger to Cairo, he found some excuse for delay. While I +was detained in his house, he made many incursions into the neighbouring +countries, and, perhaps, he would have refused to discharge me, had his +plunder been equal to his wishes. He returned always courteous, related +his adventures, delighted to hear my observations, and endeavoured to +advance my acquaintance with the stars. When I importuned him to send +away my letters, he soothed me with professions of honour and sincerity; +and, when I could be no longer decently denied, put his troop again in +motion, and left me to govern in his absence. I was much afflicted by +this studied procrastination, and was sometimes afraid, that I should be +forgotten; that you would leave Cairo, and I must end my days in an +island of the Nile. + +"I grew, at last, hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to +entertain him, that he, for awhile, more frequently talked with my +maids. That he should fall in love with them, or with me, might have +been equally fatal, and I was not much pleased with the growing +friendship. My anxiety was not long; for, as I recovered some degree of +cheerfulness, he returned to me, and I could not forbear to despise my +former uneasiness. + +"He still delayed to send for my ransome, and would, perhaps, never have +determined, had not your agent found his way to him. The gold, which he +would not fetch, he could not reject, when it was offered. He hastened +to prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered from the pain of +an intestine conflict. I took leave of my companions in the house, who +dismissed me with cold indifference." + +Nekayah, having heard her favourite's relation, rose and embraced her, +and Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold, which she presented to +the Arab for the fifty that were promised. + +CHAP. XL. + +THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING. + +They returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at finding themselves +together, that none of them went much abroad. The prince began to love +learning, and, one day, declared to Imlac, that he intended to devote +himself to science, and pass the rest of his days in literary solitude. + +"Before you make your final choice," answered Imlac, "you ought to +examine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are grown old +in the company of themselves. I have just left the observatory of one of +the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty years in +unwearied attention to the motions and appearances of the celestial +bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless calculations. He admits a +few friends, once a month, to hear his deductions, and enjoy his +discoveries. I was introduced, as a man of knowledge worthy of his +notice. Men of various ideas, and fluent conversation, are commonly +welcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a single +point, and who find the images of other things stealing away. I +delighted him with my remarks; he smiled at the narrative of my travels, +and was glad to forget the constellations, and descend, for a moment, +into the lower world. + +"On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so fortunate as +to please him again. He relaxed, from that time, the severity of his +rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice. I found him always +busy, and always glad to be relieved. As each knew much which the other +was desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions with great delight. I +perceived that I had, every day, more of his confidence, and always +found new cause of admiration in the profundity of his mind. His +comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourse +is methodical, and his expression clear. + +"His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning. His deepest +researches, and most favourite studies, are willingly interrupted for +any opportunity of doing good, by his counsel or his riches. To his +closest retreat, at his most busy moments, all are admitted that want +his assistance: 'For, though I exclude idleness and pleasure, I will +never,' says he, bar my doors against charity. To man is permitted the +contemplation of the skies, but the practice of virtue is commanded.'" + +"Surely," said the princess, "this man is happy." + +"I visited him," said Imlac, "with more and more frequency, and was +every time more enamoured of his conversation: he was sublime without +haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative without +ostentation. I was, at first, great princess, of your opinion; thought +him the happiest of mankind; and often congratulated him on the blessing +that he enjoyed. He seemed to hear nothing with indifference but the +praises of his condition, to which he always returned a general answer, +and diverted the conversation to some other topick. + +"Amidst this willingness to be pleased, and labour to please, I had, +quickly, reason to imagine, that some painful sentiment pressed upon his +mind. He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let his voice +fall in the midst of his discourse. He would sometimes, when we were +alone, gaze upon me, in silence, with the air of a man, who longed to +speak what he was yet resolved to suppress. He would often send for me, +with vehement injunctions of haste, though, when I came to him, he had +nothing extraordinary to say. And sometimes, when I was leaving him, +would call me back, pause a few moments, and then dismiss me." + +CHAP. XLI. + +THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS. + +"At last the time came, when the secret burst his reserve. We were +sitting together, last night, in the turret of his house, watching the +emersion of a satellite of Jupiter. A sudden tempest clouded the sky, +and disappointed our observation. We sat awhile silent in the dark, and +then he addressed himself to me in these words: 'Imlac, I have long +considered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of my life. +Integrity, without knowledge, is weak and useless; and knowledge, +without integrity, is dangerous and dreadful. I have found in thee all +the qualities requisite for trust--benevolence, experience, and +fortitude. I have long discharged an office, which I must soon quit at +the call of nature, and shall rejoice, in the hour of imbecility and +pain, to devolve it upon thee.' + +"I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested, that +whatever could conduce to his happiness, would add likewise to mine. + +"'Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not, without difficulty, credit. I have +possessed, for five years, the regulation of weather, and the +distribution of the seasons: the sun has listened to my dictates, and +passed, from tropick to tropick, by my direction; the clouds, at my +call, have poured their waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my +command; I have restrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the +fervours of the crab. The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, +have, hitherto, refused my authority, and multitudes have perished by +equinoctial tempests, which I found myself unable to prohibit or +restrain. I have administered this great office with exact justice, and +made, to the different nations of the earth, an impartial dividend of +rain and sunshine. What must have been the misery of half the globe, if +I had limited the clouds to particular regions, or confined the sun to +either side of the equator!' + +CHAP. XLII. + +THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED. + +"I suppose he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room, some +tokens of amazement and doubt, for, after a short pause, he proceeded +thus: + +"'Not to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend me; for I +am, probably, the first of human beings to whom this trust has been +imparted. Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction a reward or +punishment; since I have possessed it, I have been far less happy than +before, and nothing but the consciousness of good intention could have +enabled me to support the weariness of unremitted vigilance.' + +"How long, sir, said I, has this great office been in your hands?" + +"'About ten years ago,' said he, 'my daily observations of the changes +of the sky, led me to consider, whether, if I had the power of the +seasons, I could confer greater plenty upon the inhabitants of the +earth. This contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat, days and +nights, in imaginary dominion, pouring, upon this country and that, the +showers of fertility, and seconding every fall of rain with a due +proportion of sunshine. I had yet only the will to do good, and did not +imagine that I should ever have the power. + +"'One day, as I was looking on the fields withering with heat, I felt, +in my mind, a sudden wish that I could send rain on the southern +mountains, and raise the Nile to an inundation. In the hurry of my +imagination, I commanded rain to fall, and, by comparing the time of my +command with that of the inundation, I found, that the clouds had +listened to my lips.' + +"Might not some other cause," said I, "produce this concurrence? the +Nile does not always rise on the same day. + +"'Do not believe,' said he, with impatience, 'that such objections could +escape me: I reasoned long against my own conviction, and laboured +against truth with the utmost obstinacy. I sometimes suspected myself of +madness, and should not have dared to impart this secret, but to a man +like you, capable of distinguishing the wonderful from the impossible, +and the incredible from the false.' + +"Why, sir," said I, "do you call that incredible, which you know, or +think you know, to be true? + +"'Because,' said he, 'I cannot prove it by any external evidence; and I +know, too well, the laws of demonstration, to think that my conviction +ought to influence another, who cannot, like me, be conscious of its +force. I, therefore, shall not attempt to gain credit by disputation. It +is sufficient, that I feel this power, that I have long possessed, and +every day exerted it. But the life of man is short, the infirmities of +age increase upon me, and the time will soon come, when the regulator of +the year must mingle with the dust. The care of appointing a successour +has long disturbed me; the night and the day have been spent in +comparisons of all the characters which have come to my knowledge, and I +have yet found none so worthy as thyself.' + +CHAP. XLIII. + +THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS. + +"'Hear, therefore, what I shall impart, with attention, such as the +welfare of the world requires. If the task of a king be considered as +difficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot do +much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him, on whom depends the +action of the elements, and the great gifts of light and heat!--Hear me, +therefore, with attention. + +"'I have diligently considered the position of the earth and sun, and +formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed their situation. I have +sometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes varied the +ecliptick of the sun: but I have found it impossible to make a +disposition, by which the world may be advantaged; what one region +gains, another loses by an imaginable alteration, even without +considering the distant parts of the solar system, with which ye are +unacquainted. Do not, therefore, in thy administration of the year, +indulge thy pride by innovation; do not please thyself with thinking, +that thou canst make thyself renowned to all future ages, by disordering +the seasons. The memory of mischief is no desirable fame. Much less will +it become thee to let kindness or interest prevail. Never rob other +countries of rain to pour it on thine own. For us the Nile is +sufficient.' + +"I promised, that when I possessed the power, I would use it with +inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my hand. 'My heart,' +said he, 'will be now at rest, and my benevolence will no more destroy +my quiet: I have found a man of wisdom and virtue, to whom I can +cheerfully bequeath the inheritance of the sun.'" + +The prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but the +princess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter. "Ladies," +said Imlac, "to mock the heaviest of human afflictions, is neither +charitable nor wise. Few can attain this man's knowledge, and few +practise his virtues; but all may suffer his calamity. Of the +uncertainties of our present state, the most dreadful and alarming is +the uncertain continuance of reason." + +The princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed. Rasselas, +more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac, whether he thought such +maladies of the mind frequent, and how they were contracted. + +CHAP. XLIV. + +THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION. + +"Disorders of intellect," answered Imlac, "happen much more often than +superficial observers will easily believe. Perhaps, if we speak with +rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right state[a]. There is no +man, whose imagination does not, sometimes, predominate over his reason, +who can regulate his attention wholly by his will, and whose ideas will +come and go at his command. No man will be found, in whose mind airy +notions do not, sometimes, tyrannize, and force him to hope or fear +beyond the limits of sober probability. All power of fancy over reason, +is a degree of insanity; but, while this power is such as we can control +and repress, it is not visible to others, nor considered as any +deprivation of the mental faculties: it is not pronounced madness, but +when it becomes ungovernable, and apparently influences speech or +action. + +"To indulge the power of fiction, and send imagination out upon the +wing, is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent +speculation. When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour of +excogitation is too violent to last long; the ardour of inquiry will, +sometimes, give way to idleness or satiety. He who has nothing external +that can divert him, must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must +conceive himself what he is not; for who is pleased with what he is? He +then expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls, from all imaginable +conditions, that which, for the present moment, he should most desire; +amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers upon his +pride unattainable dominion. The mind dances from scene to scene, unites +all pleasures in all combinations, and riots in delights, which nature +and fortune, with all their bounty, cannot bestow. + +"In time, some particular train of ideas fixes the attention; all other +intellectual gratifications are rejected; the mind, in weariness or +leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts on +the luscious falsehood, whenever she is offended with the bitterness of +truth. By degrees, the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first +imperious, and in time despotick. Then fictions begin to operate as +realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in +dreams of rapture or of anguish. + +"This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit has +confessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomer's misery +has proved to be not always propitious to wisdom." + +"I will no more," said the favourite, "imagine myself the queen of +Abissinia. I have often spent the hours, which the princess gave to my +own disposal, in adjusting ceremonies, and regulating the court; I have +repressed the pride of the powerful, and granted the petitions of the +poor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations, planted groves +upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence of +royalty, till, when the princess entered, I had almost forgotten to bow +down before her." + +"And I," said the princess, "will not allow myself any more to play the +shepherdess in my waking dreams. I have often soothed my thoughts with +the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments, till I have, in my +chamber, heard the winds whistle, and the sheep bleat: sometimes freed +the lamb entangled in the thicket, and, sometimes, with my crook, +encountered the wolf. I have a dress like that of the village maids, +which I put on to help my imagination, and a pipe, on which I play +softly, and suppose myself followed by my flocks." + +"I will confess," said the prince, "an indulgence of fantastick delight +more dangerous than yours. I have frequently endeavoured to image the +possibility of a perfect government, by which all wrong should be +restrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects preserved in +tranquillity and innocence. This thought produced innumerable schemes of +reformation, and dictated many useful regulations and salutary edicts. +This has been the sport, and sometimes the labour, of my solitude; and I +start, when I think, with how little anguish I once supposed the death +of my father and my brothers." + +"Such," said Imlac, "are the effects of visionary schemes; when we first +form them, we know them to be absurd, but familiarize them by degrees, +and, in time, lose sight of their folly." + +[a] See Traite Médico-philosophique sur l'Aliénation Mentale, par +Pinel. Dr. Willis defined, in remarkable accordance with this case +in Rasselas, insanity to be the tendency of a mind to cherish one +idea, or one set of ideas, to the exclusion of others.--ED. + +CHAP. XLV. + +THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN. + +The evening was now far past, and they rose to return home. As they +walked along the bank of the Nile, delighted with the beams of the moon +quivering on the water, they saw, at a small distance, an old man, whom +the prince had often heard in the assembly of the sages. "Yonder," said +he, "is one whose years have calmed his passions, but not clouded his +reason: let us close the disquisitions of the night, by inquiring, what +are his sentiments of his own state, that we may know whether youth +alone is to struggle with vexation, and whether any better hope remains +for the latter part of life." + +Here the sage approached and saluted them. They invited him to join +their walk, and prattled awhile, as acquaintance that had unexpectedly +met one another. The old man was cheerful and talkative, and the way +seemed short in his company. He was pleased to find himself not +disregarded, accompanied them to their house, and, at the prince's +request, entered with them. They placed him in the seat of honour, and +set wine and conserves before him. "Sir," said the princess, "an evening +walk must give, to a man of learning, like you, pleasures which +ignorance and youth can hardly conceive. You know the qualities and the +causes of all that you behold, the laws by which the river flows, the +periods in which the planets perform their revolutions. Every thing must +supply you with contemplation, and renew the consciousness of your own +dignity." + +"Lady," answered he, "let the gay and the vigorous expect pleasure in +their excursions; it is enough that age can obtain ease. To me, the +world has lost its novelty: I look round, and see what I remember to +have seen in happier days. I rest against a tree, and consider, that in +the same shade I once disputed upon the annual overflow of the Nile, +with a friend who is now silent in the grave. I cast my eyes upwards, +fix them on the changing moon, and think, with pain, on the vicissitudes +of life. I have ceased to take much delight in physical truth; for what +have I to do with those things which I am soon to leave?" + +"You may, at least, recreate yourself," said Imlac, "with the +recollection of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise +which all agree to give you." + +"Praise," said the sage, with a sigh, "is, to an old man, an empty +sound. I have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation of her +son, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband. I have outlived my +friends and my rivals. Nothing is now of much importance; for I cannot +extend my interest beyond myself. Youth is delighted with applause, +because it is considered, as the earnest of some future good, and +because the prospect of life is far extended; but to me, who am now +declining to decrepitude, there is little to be feared from the +malevolence of men, and yet less to be hoped from their affection or +esteem. Something they may yet take away, but they can give me nothing. +Riches would now be useless, and high employment would be pain. My +retrospect of life recalls to my view many opportunities of good +neglected, much time squandered upon trifles, and more lost in idleness +and vacancy. I leave many great designs unattempted, and many great +attempts unfinished. My mind is burdened with no heavy crime, and, +therefore, I compose myself to tranquillity; endeavour to abstract my +thoughts from hopes and cares, which, though reason knows them to be +vain, still try to keep their old possession of the heart; expect, with +serene humility, that hour which nature cannot long delay; and hope to +possess, in a better state, that happiness, which here I could not find, +and that virtue, which here I have not attained." + +He rose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with the +hope of long life. The prince consoled himself with remarking, that it +was not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for age had never +been considered as the season of felicity, and, if it was possible to be +easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour and +alacrity might be happy; that the noon of life might be bright, if the +evening could be calm. + +The princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, and +delighted to repress the expectations of those, who had newly entered +the world. She had seen the possessours of estates look with envy on +their heirs, and known many who enjoyed pleasure no longer than they +could confine it to themselves. + +Pekuah conjectured, that the man was older than he appeared, and was +willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection: or else +supposed that he had been unfortunate, and was, therefore, discontented: +"For nothing," said she, "is more common than to call our own condition, +the condition of life." + +Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the comforts +which they could so readily procure to themselves, and remembered, that, +at the same age, he was equally confident of unmingled prosperity, and +equally fertile of consolatory expedients. He forbore to force upon them +unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon impress. The +princess and her lady retired; the madness of the astronomer hung on +their minds, and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and delay +next morning, the rising of the sun. + +CHAP. XLVI. + +THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER. + +The princess and Pekuah having talked in private of Imlac's astronomer, +thought his character at once so amiable and so strange, that they could +not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge; and Imlac was requested to +find the means of bringing them together. + +This was somewhat difficult; the philosopher had never received any +visits from women, though he lived in a city that had in it many +Europeans, who followed the manners of their own countries, and many, +from other parts of the world, that lived there with European liberty. +The ladies would not be refused, and several schemes were proposed for +the accomplishment of their design. It was proposed to introduce them as +strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible; but, +after some deliberation, it appeared, that by this artifice, no +acquaintance could be formed, for their conversation would be short, and +they could not decently importune him often. "This," said Rasselas, "is +true; but I have yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation +of your state. I have always considered it as treason against the great +republick of human nature, to make any man's virtues the means of +deceiving him, whether on great or little occasions. All imposture +weakens confidence, and chills benevolence. When the sage finds that you +are not what you seemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man +who, conscious of great abilities, discovers that he has been tricked by +understandings meaner than his own, and, perhaps, the distrust, which he +can never afterwards wholly lay aside, may stop the voice of counsel, +and close the hand of charity; and where will you find the power of +restoring his benefactions to mankind, or his peace to himself?" + +To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their +curiosity would subside; but, next day, Pekuah told him, she had now +found an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she would +solicit permission to continue, under him, the studies in which she had +been initiated by the Arab, and the princess might go with her, either +as a fellow-student, or because a woman could not decently come alone. +"I am afraid," said Imlac, "that he will be soon weary of your company: +men, advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the elements of +their art, and I am not certain that even of the elements, as he will +deliver them, connected with inferences, and mingled with reflections, +you are a very capable auditress." "That," said Pekuah, "must be my +care: I ask of you only to take me thither. My knowledge is, perhaps, +more than you imagine it, and, by concurring always with his opinions, I +shall make him think it greater than it is." + +The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told, that a +foreign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his +reputation, and was desirous to become his scholar. The uncommonness of +the proposal raised, at once, his surprise and curiosity; and when, +after a short deliberation, he consented to admit her, he could not +stay, without impatience, till the next day. + +The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by Imlac +to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached with +respect by persons of so splendid an appearance. In the exchange of the +first civilities, he was timorous and bashful; but, when the talk became +regular, he recollected his powers, and justified the character which +Imlac had given. Inquiring of Pekuah, what could have turned her +inclination toward astronomy, he received from her a history of her +adventure at the pyramid, and of the time passed in the Arab's island. +She told her tale with ease and elegance, and her conversation took +possession of his heart. The discourse was then turned to astronomy; +Pekuah displayed what she knew: he looked upon her as a prodigy of +genius, and entreated her not to desist from a study, which she had so +happily begun. + +They came again and again, and were, every time, more welcome than +before. The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might prolong +their visits, for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company; +the clouds of solicitude vanished by degrees, as he forced himself to +entertain them, and he grieved, when he was left, at their departure, to +his old employment of regulating the seasons. + +The princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for several +months, and could not catch a single word, from which they could judge +whether he continued, or not, in the opinion of his preternatural +commission. They often contrived to bring him to an open declaration; +but he easily eluded all their attacks, and on which side soever they +pressed him, escaped from them to some other topick. + +As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house of +Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect. He began, +gradually, to delight in sublunary pleasures. He came early, and +departed late; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity and +compliance; excited their curiosity after new arts, that they might +still want his assistance; and, when they made any excursion of +pleasure, or inquiry, entreated to attend them. + +By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the prince and his +sister were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and, lest +he should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received, +discovered to him their condition, with the motives of their journey; +and required his opinion on the CHOICE OF LIFE. + +"Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you, which you +shall prefer," said the sage, "I am not able to instruct you. I can only +tell, that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in study, without +experience; in the attainment of sciences, which can, for the most part, +be but remotely useful to mankind. I have purchased knowledge at the +expense of all the common comforts of life: I have missed the endearing +elegance of female friendship, and the happy commerce of domestick +tenderness. If I have obtained any prerogatives above other students, +they have been accompanied with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but, +even of these prerogatives, whatever they were, I have, since my +thoughts have been diversified by more intercourse with the world, begun +to question the reality. When I have been, for a few days, lost in +pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that my inquiries +have ended in errour, and that I have suffered much, and suffered it in +vain." + +Imlac was delighted to find that the sage's understanding was breaking +through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planets, till he +should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recover its +original influence. + +From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship, and +partook of all their projects and pleasures: his respect kept him +attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much time +unengaged. Something was always to be done; the day was spent in making +observations which furnished talk for the evening, and the evening was +closed with a scheme for the morrow. + +The sage confessed to Imlac, that since he had mingled in the gay +tumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, he +found the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually from +his mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never could +prove to others, and which he now found subject to variation, from +causes in which reason had no part. "If I am accidentally left alone for +a few hours," said he, "my inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, +and my thoughts are chained down by some irresistible violence; but they +are soon disentangled by the prince's conversation, and instantaneously +released at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually afraid of +spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread which +harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels again +the terrours which he knows, that when it is light he shall feel no +more. But I am sometimes afraid, lest I indulge my quiet by criminal +negligence, and voluntarily forget the great charge with which I am +intrusted. If I favour myself in a known errour, or am determined, by my +own ease, in a doubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my +crime!" + +"No disease of the imagination," answered Imlac, "is so difficult of +cure, as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt: fancy and +conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift their +places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the +dictates of the other. If fancy presents images not moral or religious, +the mind drives them away when they give it pain, but when melancholick +notions take the form of duty, they lay hold on the faculties without +opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or banish them. For this +reason, the superstitious are often melancholy, and the melancholy +almost always superstitious. + +"But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better +reason: the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of the +obligation, which, when you consider it with freedom, you find very +little, and that little growing every day less. Open your heart to the +influence of the light, which, from time to time, breaks in upon you: +when scruples importune you, which you, in your lucid moments know to be +vain, do not stand to parley, but fly to business or to Pekuah, and keep +this thought always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass of +humanity, and have neither such virtue nor vice, as that you should be +singled out for supernatural favours or afflictions." + +CHAP. XLVII. + +THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPICK. + +"All this," said the astronomer, "I have often thought, but my reason +has been so long subjugated by an uncontroulable and overwhelming idea, +that it durst not confide in its own decisions. I now see how fatally I +betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon me in secret; but +melancholy shrinks from communication, and I never found a man before, +to whom I could impart my troubles, though I had been certain of relief. +I rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not +easily deceived, and can have no motive or purpose to deceive. I hope +that time and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so long +surrounded me, and the latter part of my days will be spent in peace." + +"Your learning and virtue," said Imlac, "may justly give you hopes." + +Rasselas then entered with the princess and Pekuah, and inquired, +whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day? "Such," +said Nekayah, "is the state of life, that none are happy, but by the +anticipation of change: the change itself is nothing: when we have made +it, the next wish is to change again. The world is not yet exhausted; +let me see something to-morrow, which I never saw before." + +"Variety," said Rasselas, "is so necessary to content, that even the +happy valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries; yet I could +not forbear to reproach myself with impatience, when I saw the monks of +St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life not of uniform delight, +but uniform hardship." + +"Those men," answered Imlac, "are less wretched in their silent convent, +than the Abissinian princes in their prison of pleasure. Whatever is +done by the monks is incited by an adequate and reasonable motive. Their +labour supplies them with necessaries; it, therefore, cannot be omitted, +and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them for another +state, and reminds them of its approach, while it fits them for it. +Their time is regularly distributed; one duty succeeds another, so that +they are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost +in the shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be +performed at an appropriated hour; and their toils are cheerful, because +they consider them as acts of piety, by which they are always advancing +towards endless felicity." + +"Do you think," said Nekayah, "that the monastick rule is a more holy +and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope for +future happiness, who converses openly with mankind, who succours the +distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and +contributes, by his industry, to the general system of life: even though +he should omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the +cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights, as his condition may +place within his reach." + +"This," said Imlac, "is a question which has long divided the wise, and +perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He that lives +well in the world, is better than he that lives well in a monastery. +But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the temptations of publick +life; and, if he cannot conquer, he may properly retreat. Some have +little power to do good, and have, likewise, little strength to resist +evil. Many are weary of their conflicts with adversity, and are willing +to eject those passions which have long busied them in vain. And many +are dismissed, by age and disease, from the more laborious duties of +society. In monasteries, the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, +the weary may repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of +prayer and contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man, +that, perhaps, there is scarcely one that does not propose to close his +life in pious abstraction with a few associates, serious as himself." + +"Such," said Pekuah, "has often been my wish; and I have heard the +princess declare, that she should not willingly die in a crowd." + +"The liberty of using harmless pleasures," proceeded Imlac, "will not be +disputed; but it is still to be examined, what pleasures are harmless. +The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image, is not in the act +itself, but in its consequences. Pleasure, in itself harmless, may +become mischievous, by endearing to us a state which we know to be +transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that, of +which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning, and of which no +length of time will bring us to the end. Mortification is not virtuous +in itself, nor has any other use, but that it disengages us from the +allurements of sense. In the state of future perfection, to which we all +aspire, there will be pleasure without danger, and security without +restraint." + +The princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer, asked +him, whether he could not delay her retreat, by showing her something +which she had not seen before. + +"Your curiosity," said the sage, "has been so general, and your pursuit +of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very easily to be +found; but what you can no longer procure from the living, may be given +by the dead. Among the wonders of this country are the catacombs, or the +ancient repositories, in which the bodies of the earliest generations +were lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums which embalmed them, +they yet remain without corruption." + +"I know not," said Rasselas, "what pleasure the sight of the catacombs +can afford; but, since nothing else offers, I am resolved to view them, +and shall place this with many other things which I have done, because I +would do something." + +They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the catacombs. +When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves, "Pekuah," +said the princess, "we are now again invading the habitations of the +dead: I know that you will stay behind; let me find you safe when I +return." "No, I will not be left," answered Pekuah; "I will go down +between you and the prince." + +They then all descended, and roved, with wonder, through the labyrinth +of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rows on either +side. + +CHAP. XLVIII. + +IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL. + +"What reason," said the prince, "can be given, why the Egyptians should +thus expensively preserve those carcasses which some nations consume +with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all agree to remove +from their sight, as soon as decent rites can be performed?" + +"The original of ancient customs," said Imlac "is commonly unknown; for +the practice often continues when the cause has ceased; and, concerning +superstitious ceremonies, it is vain to conjecture; for what reason did +not dictate, reason cannot explain. I have long believed that the +practice of embalming arose only from tenderness to the remains of +relations or friends; and to this opinion I am more inclined, because it +seems impossible that this care should have been general: had all the +dead been embalmed, their repositories must, in time, have been more +spacious than the dwellings of the living. I suppose only the rich or +honourable were secured from corruption, and the rest left to the course +of nature. + +"But it is commonly supposed, that the Egyptians believed the soul to +live as long as the body continued undissolved, and, therefore, tried +this method of eluding death." + +"Could the wise Egyptians," said Nekayah, "think so grossly of the soul? +If the soul could once survive its separation, what could it afterwards +receive or suffer from the body?" + +"The Egyptians would, doubtless, think erroneously," said the +astronomer, "in the darkness of heathenism, and the first dawn of +philosophy. The nature of the soul is still disputed, amidst all our +opportunities of clearer knowledge; some yet say, that it may be +material, who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal." + +"Some," answered Imlac, "have, indeed, said, that the soul is material, +but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it, who knew how to +think; for all the conclusions of reason enforce the immateriality of +mind, and all the notices of sense and investigations of science concur +to prove the unconsciousness of matter. + +"It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter, or that +every particle is a thinking being. Yet, if any part of matter be devoid +of thought, what part can we suppose to think? Matter can differ from +matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion: to +which of these, however varied or combined, can consciousness be +annexed? To be round or square, to be solid or fluid, to be great or +little, to be moved slowly or swiftly one way or another, are modes of +material existence, all equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If +matter be once without thought, it can only be made to think by some new +modification, but all the modifications which it can admit, are equally +unconnected with cogitative powers." + +"But the materialists," said the astronomer, "urge, that matter may have +qualities, with which we are unacquainted." + +"He who will determine," returned Imlac, "against that which he knows, +because there may be something, which he knows not; he that can set +hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is not to be +admitted among reasonable beings. All that we know of matter is, that +matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and, if this conviction cannot +be opposed but by referring us to something that we know not, we have +all the evidence that human intellect can admit. If that which is known +may be overruled by that which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, can +arrive at certainty." + +"Yet let us not," said the astronomer, "too arrogantly limit the +creator's power." + +"It is no limitation of omnipotence," replied the poet, "to suppose that +one thing is not consistent with another; that the same proposition +cannot be, at once, true and false; that the same number cannot be even +and odd; that cogitation cannot be conferred on that which is created +incapable of cogitation." + +"I know not," said Nekayah, "any great use of this question. Does that +immateriality, which, in my opinion, you have sufficiently proved, +necessarily include eternal duration?" + +"Of immateriality," said Imlac, "our ideas are negative, and, therefore, +obscure. Immateriality seems to imply a natural power of perpetual +duration, as a consequence of exemption from all causes of decay: +whatever perishes is destroyed by the solution of its contexture, and +separation of its parts; nor can we conceive how that which has no +parts, and, therefore, admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted or +impaired." + +"I know not," said Rasselas, "how to conceive any thing without +extension; what is extended must have parts, and you allow, that +whatever has parts may be destroyed." + +"Consider your own conceptions," replied Imlac, "and the difficulty will +be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal form is no +less real than material bulk: yet an ideal form has no extension. It is +no less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind possesses +the idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid itself is standing. What +space does the idea of a pyramid occupy more than the idea of a grain of +corn? or how can either idea suffer laceration? As is the effect, such +is the cause: as thought, such is the power that thinks; a power +impassive and indiscerptible." + +"But the being," said Nekayah, "whom I fear to name, the being which +made the soul, can destroy it." + +"He, surely, can destroy it," answered Imlac, "since, however +unperishable, it receives from a superiour nature its power of duration. +That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay, or principle of +corruption, may be shown by philosophy; but philosophy can tell no more. +That it will not be annihilated by him that made it, we must humbly +learn from higher authority." + +The whole assembly stood, awhile, silent and collected. "Let us return," +said Rasselas, "from this scene of mortality. How gloomy would be these +mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he should never die; +that what now acts shall continue its agency, and what now thinks shall +think on for ever. Those that lie here, stretched before us, the wise +and the powerful of ancient times, warn us to remember the shortness of +our present state: they were, perhaps, snatched away, while they were +busy, like us, in the choice of life." + +"To me," said the princess, "the choice of life is become less +important; I hope, hereafter, to think only on the choice of eternity." + +They then hastened out of the caverns, and, under the protection of +their guard, returned to Cairo. + +CHAP. XLIX. + +THIS CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED. + +It was now the time of the inundation of the Nile: a few days after +their visit to the catacombs the river began to rise. + +They were confined to their house. The whole region, being under water, +gave them no invitation to any excursions, and, being well supplied with +materials for talk, they diverted themselves with comparisons of the +different forms of life, which they had observed, and with various +schemes of happiness, which each of them had formed. + +Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the convent of St. +Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the princess, and wished only to +fill it with pious maidens, and to be made prioress of the order: she +was weary of expectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed in some +unvariable state. + +The princess thought, that, of all sublunary things, knowledge was the +best: she desired, first, to learn all sciences, and then purposed to +found a college of learned women, in which she would preside; that, by +conversing with the old, and educating the young, she might divide her +time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise up, +fur the next age, models of prudence, and patterns of piety. + +The prince desired a little kingdom, in which he might administer +justice in his own person, and see all the parts of government with his +own eyes; but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and was +always adding to the number of his subjects. + +Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream of +life, without directing their course to any particular port. Of these +wishes, that they had formed, they well knew that none could be +obtained. They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and resolved, +when the inundation should cease, to return to Abissinia. + + + + + +LETTERS. + +I.--To MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON. + +Sept. 25th, 1750. + +DEAR SIR,--You have, as I find by every kind of evidence, lost an +excellent mother; and I hope you will not think me incapable of +partaking of your grief. I have a mother, now eighty-two years of age, +whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please God that she rather +should mourn for me. I read the letters in which you relate your +mother's death to Mrs. Strahan, and think I do myself honour, when I +tell you that I read them with tears; but tears are neither to you, nor +to me, of any farther use, when once the tribute of nature has been +paid. The business of life summons us away from useless grief, and calls +us to the exercise of those virtues, of which we are lamenting our +deprivation. + +The greatest benefit which one friend can confer upon another, is to +guard and excite and elevate his virtues. This your mother will still +perform, if you diligently preserve the memory of her life, and of her +death: a life, so far as I can learn, useful, wise, and innocent; and a +death, resigned, peaceful, and holy. I cannot forbear to mention, that +neither reason nor revelation denies you to hope, that you may increase +her happiness, by obeying her precepts; and that she may, in her present +state, look, with pleasure, upon every act of virtue, to which her +instructions or example have contributed. Whether this be more than a +pleasing dream, or a just opinion of separate spirits, is, indeed, of no +great importance to us, when we consider ourselves as acting under the +eye of God: yet, surely, there is something pleasing in the belief, that +our separation from those, whom we love, is merely corporeal; and it may +be a great incitement to virtuous friendship, if it can be made +probable, that that union, which has received the divine approbation, +shall continue to eternity. + +There is one expedient, by which you may, in some degree, continue her +presence. If you write down minutely what you remember of her from your +earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure, and receive from +it many hints of soothing recollection, when time shall remove her yet +farther from you, and your grief shall be matured to veneration. To +this, however painful for the present, I cannot but advise you, as to a +source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to come; for all comfort +and all satisfaction is sincerely wished you by, + + Dear sir, + Your most obliged, most obedient, + And most humble servant, + SAM. JOHNSON. + + +II.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, Aug. 13, 1765. + +MADAM,--If you have really so good an opinion of me as you express, it +will not be necessary to inform you how unwillingly I miss the +opportunity of coming to Brighthelmstone in Mr. Thrale's company; or, +since I cannot do what I wish first, how eagerly I shall catch the +second degree of pleasure, by coming to you and him, as soon as I can +dismiss my work from my hands. + +I am afraid to make promises, even to myself; but I hope that the week +after the next will be the end of my present business. When business is +done, what remains but pleasure? and where should pleasure be sought, +but under Mrs. Thrale's influence? + +Do not blame me for a delay by which I must suffer so much, and by which +I suffer alone. If you cannot think I am good, pray think I am mending, +and that in time I may deserve to be, dear madam, your, &c. + + +III.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, July 20, 1767. + +Madam,--Though I have been away so much longer than I purposed or +expected, I have found nothing that withdraws my affections from the +friends whom I left behind, or which makes me less desirous of reposing +at that place, which your kindness and Mr. Thrale's allows me to call my +home. + +Miss Lucy[a] is more kind and civil than I expected, and has raised my +esteem by many excellencies, very noble and resplendent, though a little +discoloured by hoary virginity. Every thing else recalls to my +remembrance years, in which I proposed what, I am afraid, I have not +done, and promised myself pleasure which I have not found. But complaint +can be of no use; and why then should I depress your hopes by my +lamentations? I suppose it is the condition of humanity to design what +never will be done, and to hope what never will be obtained. But, among +the vain hopes, let me not number the hope which I have, of being long, +dear madam, your, &c. + +[a] Miss Lucy Porter, daughter to Dr. Johnson's wife, by a former +husband. + + + +IV.--TO THE SAME. + +Lichfield, August 14, 1769. + +MADAM,--I set out on Thursday morning, and found my companion, to whom I +was very much a stranger, more agreeable than I expected. We went +cheerfully forward, and passed the night at Coventry. We came in late, +and went out early; and, therefore, I did not send for my cousin Tom: +but I design to make him some amends for the omission. + +Next day we came early to Lucy, who was, I believe, glad to see us. She +had saved her best gooseberries upon the tree for me; and, as Steele +says, "I was neither too proud nor too wise" to gather them. I have +rambled a very little "inter fontes et flumina nota," but I am not yet +well. They have cut down the trees in George lane. Evelyn, in his book +of Forest Trees, tells us of wicked men that cut down trees, and never +prospered afterwards; yet nothing has deterred these audacious aldermen +from violating the Hamadryads of George lane. As an impartial traveller, +I must however tell, that, in Stow street, where I left a draw-well, I +have found a pump; but the lading-well, in this ill fated George lane, +lies shamefully neglected. + +I am going to-day, or to-morrow, to Ashbourne; but I am at a loss how I +shall get back in time to London. Here are only chance coaches, so that +there is no certainty of a place. If I do not come, let it not hinder +your journey. I can be but a few days behind you; and I will follow in +the Brighthelmstone coach. But I hope to come. + +I took care to tell Miss Porter, that I have got another Lucy. I hope +she is well. Tell Mrs. Salusbury that I beg her stay at Streatham, for +little Lucy's sake. I am, &c. + + +V.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, July 11, 1770. + +MADAM,--Since my last letter, nothing extraordinary has happened. +Rheumatism, which has been very troublesome, is grown better. I have not +yet seen Dr. Taylor, and July runs fast away. I shall not have much time +for him, if he delays much longer to come or send. Mr. Green, the +apothecary, has found a book, which tells who paid levies in our parish, +and how much they paid, above a hundred years ago. Do you not think we +study this book hard? Nothing is like going to the bottom of things. +Many families, that paid the parish-rates, are now extinct, like the +race of Hercules: "Pulvis et umbra sumus." What is nearest us, touches +us most. The passions rise higher at domestick, than at imperial, +tragedies. I am not wholly unaffected by the revolutions of Sadler +street; nor can forbear to mourn a little when old names vanish away, +and new come into their place. + +Do not imagine, madam, that I wrote this letter for the sake of these +philosophical meditations; for when I began it, I had neither Mr. Green, +nor his book, in my thoughts; but was resolved to write, and did not +know what I had to send, but my respects to Mrs. Salusbury, and Mr. +Thrale, and Harry, and the Misses. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +VI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, July 23, 1770. + +DEAREST MADAM,--There had not been so long an interval between my two +last letters, but that, when I came hither, I did not at first +understand the hours of the post. + +I have seen the great bull; and very great he is. I have seen, likewise, +his heir apparent, who promises to inherit all the bulk, and all the +virtues, of his sire. I have seen the man who offered a hundred guineas +for the young bull, while he was yet little better than a calf. Matlock, +I am afraid, I shall not see, but I purpose to see Dovedale; and, after +all this seeing, I hope to see you. I am, &c. + + +VII.--TO THE SAME. + +Ashbourne, July 3, 1771. + +DEAR MADAM,--Last Saturday I came to Ashbourne; the dangers or the +pleasures of the journey I have, at present, no disposition to recount; +else might I paint the beauties of my native plains; might I tell of the +"smiles of nature, and the charms of art;" else might I relate, how I +crossed the Staffordshire canal, one of the great efforts of human +labour, and human contrivance, which, from the bridge on which I viewed +it, passed away on either side, and loses itself in distant regions, +uniting waters that nature had divided, and dividing lands which nature +had united. I might tell how these reflections fermented in my mind, +till the chaise stopped at Ashbourne, at Ashbourne in the Peak. Let not +the barren name of the Peak terrify you; I have never wanted +strawberries and cream. The great bull has no disease but age. I hope, +in time, to be like the great bull; and hope you will be like him, too, +a hundred years hence. I am, &c. + + +VIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, July 10, 1771. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am obliged to my friend Harry, for his remembrance, +but think it a little hard that I hear nothing from Miss. + +There has been a man here to-day to take a farm. After some talk, he +went to see the bull, and said, that he had seen a bigger. Do you think +he is likely to get the farm? + +_Toujours_ strawberries and cream. + +Dr. Taylor is much better, and my rheumatism is less painful. Let me +hear, in return, as much good of you and of Mrs. Salusbury. You despise +the Dog and Duck: things that are at hand are always slighted. I +remember that Dr. Grevil, of Gloucester, sent for that water when his +wife was in the same danger; but he lived near Malvern, and you live +near the Dog and Duck. Thus, in difficult cases, we naturally trust most +what we least know. + +Why Bromefield, supposing that a lotion can do good, should despise +laurel-water, in comparison with his own receipt, I do not see; and see, +still less, why he should laugh at that which Wall thinks efficacious. I +am afraid philosophy will not warrant much hope in a lotion. + +Be pleased to make my compliments from Mrs. Salusbury to Susy. I am, &c. + + +IX.--To THE SAME. + +October 31, 1772. + +MADAM,--Though I am just informed, that, by some accidental negligence, +the letter, which I wrote on Thursday, was not given to the post, yet I +cannot refuse myself the gratification of writing again to my mistress; +not that I have any thing to tell, but that, by showing how much I am +employed upon you, I hope to keep you from forgetting me. + +Doctor Taylor asked me, this morning, on what I was thinking; and I was +thinking on Lucy. I hope Lucy is a good girl. But she cannot yet be so +good as Queeney. I have got nothing yet for Queeney's cabinet. + +I hope dear Mrs. Salusbury grows no worse. I wish any thing could be +found that would make her better. You must remember her admonition, and +bustle in the brewhouse. When I come, you may expect to have your hands +full with all of us. + +Our bulls and cows are all well, but we yet hate the man that had seen a +bigger bull. Our deer have died, but many are left. Our waterfall, at +the garden, makes a great roaring this wet weather. + +And so no more at present from, madam, your, &c. + + +X.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 23, 1772. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sorry that none of your letters bring better news of +the poor dear lady. I hope her pain is not great. To have a disease +confessedly incurable, and apparently mortal, is a very heavy +affliction; and it is still more grievous, when pain is added to +despair. + +Every thing else in your letter pleased me very well, except that when I +come I entreat I may not be flattered, as your letters flatter me. You +have read of heroes and princes ruined by flattery, and, I question, if +any of them had a flatterer so dangerous as you. Pray keep strictly to +your character of governess. + +I cannot yet get well; my nights are flatulent and unquiet, but my days +are tolerably easy, and Taylor says, that I look much better than when I +came hither. You will see when I come, and I can take your word. + +Our house affords no revolutions. The great bull is well. But I write, +not merely to think on you, for I do that without writing, but to keep +you a little thinking on me. I perceive that I have taken a broken piece +of paper, but that is not the greatest fault that you must forgive in, +madam, your, &c. + + +XI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 27, 1772. + +DEAR MADAM,--If you are so kind as to write to me on Saturday, the day +on which you will receive this, I shall have it before I leave +Ashbourne. I am to go to Lichfield on Wednesday, and purpose to find my +way to London, through Birmingham and Oxford. + +I was yesterday at Chatsworth. It is a very fine house. I wish you had +been with me to see it; for then, as we are apt to want matter of talk, +we should have gained something new to talk on. They complimented me +with playing the fountain, and opening the cascade. But I am of my +friend's opinion, that when one has seen the ocean, cascades are but +little things. + +I am in hope of a letter to-day from you or Queeney, but the post has +made some blunder, and the packet is not yet distributed. I wish it may +bring me a little good of you all. I am, &c. + + +XII.--To THE SAME. + +Tuesday, Jan. 26, 1773. + +MADAM,--The inequalities of human life have always employed the +meditation of deep thinkers, and I cannot forbear to reflect on the +difference between your condition and my own. You live upon mock-turtle, +and stewed rumps of beef; I dined, yesterday, upon crumpets. You sit +with parish officers, caressing and caressed, the idol of the table, and +the wonder of the day. I pine in the solitude of sickness, not bad +enough to be pitied, and not well enough to be endured. You sleep away +the night, and laugh, or scold away the day. I cough and grumble, and +grumble and cough. Last night was very tedious, and this day makes no +promises of much ease. However, I have this day put on my shoe, and hope +that gout is gone. I shall have only the cough to contend with, and I +doubt whether I shall get rid of that without change of place. I caught +cold in the coach as I went away, and am disordered by very little +things. Is it accident or age? I am, dearest madam, &c. + + +XIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +March 17, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--To tell you that I am sorry, both for the poor lady and for +you, is useless. I cannot help either of you. The weakness of mind is, +perhaps, only a casual interruption or intermission of the attention, +such as we all suffer when some weighty care or urgent calamity has +possession of the mind. She will compose herself. She is unwilling to +die, and the first conviction of approaching death raised great +perturbation. I think she has but very lately thought death close at +hand. She will compose herself to do that as well as she can, which +must, at last, be done. May she not want the divine assistance! + +You, madam, will have a great loss; a greater than is common in the loss +of a parent. Fill your mind with hope of her happiness, and turn your +thoughts first to him who gives and takes away, in whose presence the +living and dead are standing together. Then remember, that when this +mournful duty is paid, others yet remain of equal obligation, and, we +may hope, of less painful performance. Grief is a species of idleness, +and the necessity of attention to the present preserves us, by the +merciful disposition of providence, from being lacerated and devoured by +sorrow for the past. You must think on your husband and your children, +and do what this dear lady has done for you. + +Not to come to town while the great struggle continues is, undoubtedly, +well resolved. But do not harass yourself into danger; you owe the care +of your health to all that love you, at least to all whom it is your +duty to love. You cannot give such a mother too much, if you do not give +her what belongs to another. I am, &c. + + +XIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +April 27, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--Hope is more pleasing than fear, but not less fallacious; +you know, when you do not try to deceive yourself, that the disease, +which at last is to destroy, must be gradually growing worse, and that +it is vain to wish for more than, that the descent to death may be slow +and easy. In this wish I join with you, and hope it will be granted. +Dear, dear lady, whenever she is lost she will be missed, and whenever +she is remembered she will be lamented. Is it a good or an evil to me, +that she now loves me? It is surely a good; for you will love me better, +and we shall have a new principle of concord; and I shall be happier +with honest sorrow, than with sullen indifference: and far happier still +than with counterfeited sympathy. + +I am reasoning upon a principle very far from certain, a confidence of +survivance. You or I, or both, may be called into the presence of the +supreme judge before her. I have lived a life of which I do not like the +review. Surely I shall, in time, live better. + +I sat down with an intention to write high compliments; but my thoughts +have taken another course, and some other time must now serve to tell +you with what other emotions, benevolence, and fidelity, I am, &c. + + +XV.--To THE SAME. + +May 17, 1773. + +MADAM,--Never imagine that your letters are long; they are always too +short for my curiosity. I do not know that I was ever content with a +single perusal. + +Of dear Mrs. Salusbury I never expect much better news than you send me; +_de pis en pis_ is the natural and certain course of her dreadful +malady. I am content, when it leaves her ease enough for the exercise of +her mind. Why should Mr. **** suppose, that what I took the liberty of +suggesting, was concerted with you? He does not know how much I revolve +his affairs, and how honestly I desire his prosperity. I hope he has let +the hint take some hold of his mind. + +Your declaration to Miss **** is more general than my opinions allow. I +think an unlimited promise of acting by the opinion of another so wrong, +that nothing, or hardly anything, can make it right. All unnecessary +vows are folly, because they suppose a prescience of the future which +has not been given us. They are, I think, a crime, because they resign +that life to chance which God has given us to be regulated by reason; +and superinduce a kind of fatality, from which it is the great privilege +of our nature to be free. Unlimited obedience is due only to the +universal father of heaven and earth. My parents may be mad and foolish; +may be wicked and malicious; may be erroneously religious, or absurdly +scrupulous. I am not bound to compliance with mandates, either positive +or negative, which either religion condemns, or reason rejects. There +wanders about the world a wild notion, which extends over marriage more +than over any other transaction. If Miss **** followed a trade, would it +be said, that she was bound, in conscience, to give or refuse credit at +her father's choice? And is not marriage a thing in which she is more +interested, and has, therefore, more right of choice? When I may suffer +for my own crimes, when I may be sued for my own debts, I may judge, by +parity of reason, for my own happiness. The parent's moral right can +arise only from his kindness, and his civil right only from his money. + +Conscience cannot dictate obedience to the wicked, or compliance with +the foolish; and of interest mere prudence is the judge. + +If the daughter is bound without a promise, she promises nothing; +and if she is not bound, she promises too much. + +What is meant by tying up money in trade I do not understand No money is +so little tied, as that which is employed in trade. Mr. ****, perhaps, +only means, that in consideration of money to be advanced, he will +oblige his son to be a trader. This is reasonable enough. Upon ten +thousand pounds, diligently occupied, they may live in great plenty and +splendour, without the mischiefs of idleness. + +I can write a long letter, as well as my mistress; and shall be glad +that my long letters may be as welcome as hers. + +My nights are grown again very uneasy and troublesome. I know not that +the country will mend them; but I hope your company will mend my days. +Though I cannot now expect much attention, and would not wish for more +than can be spared from the poor dear lady, yet I shall see you and hear +you every now and then; and to see and hear you, is always to hear wit, +and to see virtue. + +I shall I hope, see you to-morrow, and a little on the two next days; +and with that little I must, for the present, try to be contented. I am, +&c. + + +XVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +August 12, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--We left London on Friday, the 6th, not very early, and +travelled, without any memorable accident, through a country which I had +seen before. In the evening I was not well, and was forced to stop at +Stilton, one stage short of Stamford, where we intended to have lodged. + +On the 7th we passed through Stamford and Grantham, and dined at Newark, +where I had only time to observe, that the market-place was uncommonly +spacious and neat. In London, we should call it a square, though the +sides were neither straight nor parallel. We came, at night, to +Doncaster, and went to church in the morning, where Chambers found the +monument of Robert of Doncaster, who says on his stone something like +this:--What I gave, that I have; what I spent, that I had; what I left, +that I lost.--So saith Robert of Doncaster, who reigned in the world +sixty-seven years, and all that time lived not one. Here we were invited +to dinner, and, therefore, made no great haste away. + +We reached York, however, that night; I was much disordered with old +complaints. Next morning we saw the minster, an edifice of loftiness and +elegance, equal to the highest hopes of architecture. I remember +nothing, but the dome of St. Paul's, that can be compared with the +middle walk. The chapter-house is a circular building, very stately, +but, I think, excelled by the chapter-house of Lincoln. + +I then went to see the ruins of the abbey, which are almost vanished, +and I remember nothing of them distinct. The next visit was to the gaol, +which they call the castle; a fabrick built lately, such is terrestrial +mutability, out of the materials of the ruined abbey. The under gaoler +was very officious to show his fetters, in which there was no +contrivance. The head gaoler came in, and seeing me look, I suppose, +fatigued, offered me wine, and, when I went away, would not suffer his +servant to take money. The gaol is accounted the best in the kingdom, +and you find the gaoler deserving of his dignity. + +We dined at York, and went on to Northallerton, a place of which I know +nothing, but that it afforded us a lodging on Monday night, and about +two hundred and seventy years ago gave birth to Roger Ascham. + +Next morning we changed our horses at Darlington, where Mr. Cornelius +Harrison, a cousin-german of mine, was perpetual curate. He was the only +one of my relations who ever rose in fortune above penury, or in +character above neglect. + +The church is built crosswise, with a fine spire, and might invite a +traveller to survey it; but I, perhaps, wanted vigour, and thought I +wanted time. + +The next stage brought us to Durham, a place of which Mr. Thrale bade me +take particular notice. The bishop's palace has the appearance of an old +feudal castle, built upon an eminence, and looking down upon the river, +upon which was formerly thrown a drawbridge, as I suppose, to be raised +at night, lest the Scots should pass it. + +The cathedral has a massiness and solidity, such as I have seen in no +other place; it rather awes than pleases, as it strikes with a kind of +gigantick dignity, and aspires to no other praise than that of rocky +solidity and indeterminate duration. I had none of my friends resident, +and, therefore, saw but little. The library is mean and scanty. + +At Durham, beside all expectation, I met an old friend: Miss Fordyce is +married there to a physician. We met, I think, with honest kindness on +both sides. I thought her much decayed, and having since heard that the +banker had involved her husband in his extensive ruin, I cannot forbear +to think, that I saw in her withered features more impression of sorrow +than that of time-- + + "Qua terra patet, sera regnat Erinnys." + +He that wanders about the world sees new forms of human misery, and if +he chances to meet an old friend, meets a face darkened with troubles. + +On Tuesday night we came hither; yesterday I took some care of myself, +and to-day I am _quite polite_. I have been taking a view of all that +could be shown me, and find that all very near to nothing. You have +often heard me complain of finding myself disappointed by books of +travels; I am afraid travel itself will end likewise in disappointment. +One town, one country, is very like another: civilized nations have the +same customs, and barbarous nations have the same nature: there are, +indeed, minute discriminations both of places and manners, which, +perhaps, are not wanting of curiosity, but which a traveller seldom +stays long enough to investigate and compare. The dull utterly neglect +them; the acute see a little, and supply the rest with fancy and +conjecture. + +I shall set out again to-morrow; but I shall not, I am afraid, see +Alnwick, for Dr. Percy is not there. I hope to lodge to-morrow night at +Berwick, and the next at Edinburgh, where I shall direct Mr. Drummond, +bookseller at Ossian's head, to take care of my letters. + +I hope the little dears are all well, and that my dear master and +mistress may go somewhither; but, wherever you go, do not forget, madam, +your most humble servant. + +I am pretty well. + +August 15. + +Thus far I had written at Newcastle. I forgot to send it. I am now at +Edinburgh; and have been this day running about. I run pretty well. + + +XVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, August 17, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--On the 13th, I left Newcastle, and, in the afternoon, came +to Alnwick, where we were treated with great civility by the duke: I +went through the apartments, walked on the wall, and climbed the towers. +That night we lay at Belford, and, on the next night, came to Edinburgh. +On Sunday (15th) I went to the English chapel. After dinner, Dr. +Robertson came in, and promised to show me the place. On Monday I saw +their publick buildings: the cathedral, which I told Robertson I wished +to see, because it had once been a church; the courts of justice, the +parliament-house, the advocates' library, the repository of records, the +college, and its library, and the palace, particularly the old tower, +where the king of Scotland seized David Rizzio in the queen's presence. +Most of their buildings are very mean; and the whole town bears some +resemblance to the old part of Birmingham. + +Boswell has very handsome and spacious rooms, level with the ground, on +one side of the house, and, on the other, four stories high. + +At dinner, on Monday, were the dutchess of Douglas, an old lady, who +talks broad Scotch with a paralytick voice, and is scarcely understood +by her own countrymen; the lord chief baron, sir Adolphus Oughton, and +many more. At supper there was such a conflux of company, that I could +scarcely support the tumult. I have never been well in the whole +journey, and am very easily disordered. + +This morning I saw, at breakfast, Dr. Blacklock, the blind poet, who +does not remember to have seen light, and is read to, by a poor scholar, +in Latin, Greek, and French. He was, originally, a poor scholar himself. +I looked on him with reverence. Tomorrow our journey begins; I know not +when I shall write again. I am but poorly. I am, &c. + + +XVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Bamff, August 25, 1773. + +Dear Madam,--It has so happened, that, though I am perpetually thinking +on you, I could seldom find opportunity to write; I have, in fourteen +days, sent only one letter; you must consider the fatigues of travel, +and the difficulties encountered in a strange country. + +August 18th. I passed, with Boswell, the frith of Forth, and began our +journey; in the passage we observed an island, which I persuaded my +companions to survey. We found it a rock somewhat troublesome to climb, +about a mile long, and half a mile broad; in the middle were the ruins +of an old fort, which had, on one of the stones,--"Maria Re. 1564." It +had been only a blockhouse, one story high. I measured two apartments, +of which the walls were entire, and found them twenty-seven feet long, +and twenty-three broad. The rock had some grass and many thistles; both +cows and sheep were grazing. There was a spring of water. The name is +Inchkeith. Look on your maps. This visit took about an hour. We pleased +ourselves with being in a country all our own, and then went back to the +boat, and landed at Kinghorn, a mean town; and, travelling through +Kirkaldie, a very long town, meanly built, and Cowpar, which I could not +see, because it was night, we came late to St. Andrew's, the most +ancient of the Scotch universities, and once the see of the primate of +Scotland. The inn was full; but lodgings were provided for us at the +house of the professor of rhetorick, a man of elegant manners, who +showed us, in the morning, the poor remains of a stately cathedral, +demolished in Knox's reformation, and now only to be imagined, by +tracing its foundation, and contemplating the little ruins that are +left. Here was once a religious house. Two of the vaults or cellars of +the sub-prior are even yet entire. In one of them lives an old woman, +who claims an hereditary residence in it, boasting that her husband was +the sixth tenant of this gloomy mansion, in a lineal descent, and +claims, by her marriage with this lord of the cavern, an alliance with +the Bruces. Mr. Boswell staid awhile to interrogate her, because he +understood her language; she told him, that she and her cat lived +together; that she had two sons somewhere, who might, perhaps, be dead; +that, when there were quality in the town, notice was taken of her, and +that now she was neglected, but did not trouble them. Her habitation +contained all that she had; her turf, for fire, was laid in one place, +and her balls of coal-dust in another, but her bed seemed to be clean. +Boswell asked her, if she never heard any noises; but she could tell him +of nothing supernatural, though she often wandered in the night among +the graves and ruins; only she had, sometimes, notice, by dreams, of the +death of her relations. We then viewed the remains of a castle, on the +margin of the sea, in which the archbishops resided, and in which +cardinal Beatoun was killed. + +The professors, who happened to be readout in the vacation, made a +publick dinner, and treated us very kindly and respectfully. They showed +us their colleges, in one of which there is a library that, for +luminousness and elegance, may vie, at least, with the new edifice at +Streatham. But learning seems not to prosper among them; one of their +colleges has been lately alienated, and one of their churches lately +deserted. An experiment was made of planting a shrubbery in the church, +but it did not thrive. + +Why the place should thus fall to decay, I know not; for education, such +as is here to be had, is sufficiently cheap. The term, or, as they call +it, their session, lasts seven months in the year, which the students of +the highest rank and greatest expense, may pass here for twenty pounds, +in which are included board, lodging, books, and the continual +instruction of three professors. + +20th. We left St. Andrew's, well satisfied with our reception, and, +crossing the frith of Tay, came to Dundee, a dirty, despicable town. We +passed, afterwards, through Aberbrothick, famous once for an abbey, of +which there are only a few fragments left; but those fragments testify +that the fabrick was once of great extent, and of stupendous +magnificence. Two of the towers are yet standing, though shattered; into +one of them Boswell climbed, but found the stairs broken: the way into +the other we did not see, and had not time to search; I believe it might +be ascended, but the top, I think, is open. + +We lay at Montrose, a neat place, with a spacious area for the market, +and an elegant town-house. + +21st. We travelled towards Aberdeen, another university, and, in the +way, dined at lord Monboddo's, the Scotch judge, who has lately written +a strange book about the origin of language, in which he traces monkeys +up to men, and says that, in some countries, the human species have +tails like other beasts. He inquired for these long-tailed men of Banks, +and was not well pleased, that they had not been found in all his +peregrination. He talked nothing of this to me, and I hope we parted +friends; for we agreed pretty well, only we disputed in adjusting the +claims of merit between a shopkeeper of London, and a savage of the +American wildernesses. Our opinions were, I think, maintained, on both +sides, without full conviction: Monboddo declared boldly for the savage; +and I, perhaps, for that reason, sided with the citizen. + +We came late to Aberdeen, where I found my dear mistress's letter, and +learned that all our little people were happily recovered of the +measles. Every part of your letter was pleasing. + +There are two cities of the name of Aberdeen: the old town, built about +a mile inland, once the see of a bishop, which contains the king's +college, and the remains of the cathedral; and the new town, which +stands, for the sake of trade, upon a frith or arm of the sea, so that +ships rest against the quay. + +The two cities have their separate magistrates; and the two colleges +are, in effect, two universities, which confer degrees independently of +each other. + +New Aberdeen is a large town, built almost wholly of that granite which +is used for the new pavement in London, which, hard as it is, they +square with very little difficulty. Here I first saw the women in +plaids. The plaid makes, at once, a hood and cloak, without cutting or +sewing, merely by the manner of drawing the opposite sides over the +shoulders. The maids, at the inns, run over the house barefoot; and +children, not dressed in rags, go without shoes or stockings. Shoes are, +indeed, not yet in universal use; they came late into this country. One +of the professors told us, as we were mentioning a fort, built by +Cromwell, that the country owed much of its present industry to +Cromwell's soldiers. They taught us, said he, to raise cabbage, and make +shoes. How they lived without shoes may yet be seen; but, in the passage +through villages, it seems to him, that surveys their gardens, that when +they had not cabbage, they had nothing. + +Education is here of the same price as at St. Andrew's, only the session +is but from the 1st of November to the 1st of April. The academical +buildings seem rather to advance than decline. They showed their +libraries, which were not very splendid, but some manuscripts were so +exquisitely penned, that I wished my dear mistress to have seen them. I +had an unexpected pleasure, by finding an old acquaintance, now +professor of physick, in the king's college: we were, on both sides, +glad of the interview, having not seen, nor, perhaps, thought on one +another, for many years; but we had no emulation, nor had either of us +risen to the other's envy, and our old kindness was easily renewed. I +hope we shall never try the effect of so long an absence, and that I +shall always be, madam your, &c. + + +XIX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Inverness, August 28, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--August 23rd, I had the honour of attending the lord provost +of Aberdeen, and was presented with the freedom of the city, not in a +gold box, but in good Latin. Let me pay Scotland one just praise! there +was no officer gaping for a fee; this could have been said of no city on +the English side of the Tweed. I wore my patent of freedom, _pro more_, +in my hat, from the new town to the old, about a mile. I then dined with +my friend, the professor of physick, at his house, and saw the king's +college. Boswell was very angry, that the Aberdeen professors would not +talk. When I was at the English church, in Aberdeen, I happened to be +espied by lady Di. Middleton, whom I had sometime seen in London; she +told what she had seen to Mr. Boyd, lord Errol's brother, who wrote us +an invitation to lord Errol's house, called Slane's castle We went +thither on the next day, (24th of August,) and found a house, not old, +except but one tower, built on the margin of the sea, upon a rock, +scarce accessible from the sea; at one corner, a tower makes a +perpendicular continuation of the lateral surface of the rock, so that +it is impracticable to walk round; the house inclosed a square court, +and on all sides within the court is a piazza, or gallery, two stories +high. We came in, as we were invited to dinner, and, after dinner, +offered to go; but lady Errol sent us word by Mr. Boyd, that if we went +before lord Errol came home, we must never be forgiven, and ordered out +the coach to show us two curiosities. We were first conducted, by Mr. +Boyd, to Dunbuys, or the yellow rock. Dunbuys is a rock, consisting of +two protuberances, each, perhaps, one hundred yards round, joined +together by a narrow neck, and separated from the land by a very narrow +channel or gully. These rocks are the haunts of seafowl, whose clang, +though this is not their season, we heard at a distance. The eggs and +the young are gathered here, in great numbers, at the time of breeding. +There is a bird here, called a coot, which, though not much bigger than +a duck, lays a larger egg than a goose. We went then to see the Buller, +or Bouilloir, of Buchan: Buchan is the name of the district, and the +Buller is a small creek, or gulf, into which the sea flows through an +arch of the rock. We walked round it, and saw it black, at a great +depth. It has its name from the violent ebullition of the water, when +high winds or high tides drive it up the arch into the basin. Walking a +little farther, I spied some boats, and told my companions that we would +go into the Buller and examine it. There was no danger; all was calm; we +went through the arch, and found ourselves in a narrow gulf, surrounded +by craggy rocks, of height not stupendous, but, to a mediterranean +visitor, uncommon. On each side was a cave, of which the fisherman knew +not the extent, in which smugglers hide their goods, and sometimes +parties of pleasure take a dinner. I am, &c. + + +XX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, September 6, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am now looking on the sea, from a house of sir +Alexander Macdonald, in the isle of Skie. Little did I once think of +seeing this region of obscurity, and little did you once expect a +salutation from this verge of European life. I have now the pleasure of +going where nobody goes, and seeing what nobody sees. Our design is to +visit several of the smaller islands, and then pass over to the south-west +of Scotland. + +I returned from the sight of Buller's Buchan to lord Errol's, and, +having seen his library, had, for a time, only to look upon the sea, +which rolled between us and Norway. Next morning, August 25th, we +continued our journey through a country not uncultivated, but so denuded +of its woods, that, in all this journey, I had not travelled a hundred +yards between hedges, or seen five trees fit for the carpenter. A few +small plantations may be found, but I believe scarcely any thirty years +old; at least, they are all posterior to the union. This day we dined +with a country-gentleman, who has in his grounds the remains of a +Druid's temple, which, when it is complete, is nothing more than a +circle, or double circle, of stones, placed at equal distances, with a +flat stone, perhaps an altar, at a certain point, and a stone, taller +than the rest, at the opposite point. The tall stone is erected, I +think, at the south. Of these circles, there are many in all the +unfrequented parts of the island. The inhabitants of these parts respect +them as memorials of the sculpture of some illustrious person. Here I +saw a few trees. We lay at Bamff. + +August 26th. We dined at Elgin, where we saw the ruins of a noble +cathedral; the chapter-house is yet standing. A great part of Elgin is +built with small piazzas to the lower story. We went on to Foris, over +the heath where Macbeth met the witches, but had no adventure; only in +the way we saw, for the first time, some houses with fruit-trees about +them. The improvements of the Scotch are for immediate profit; they do +not yet think it quite worth their while to plant what will not produce +something to be eaten, or sold, in a very little time. We rested at +Foris. + +A very great proportion of the people are barefoot; shoes are not yet +considered as necessaries of life. It is still the custom to send out +the sons of gentlemen without them into the streets and ways. There are +more beggars than I have ever seen in England; they beg, if not +silently, yet very modestly. + +Next day we came to Nairn, a miserable town, but a royal burgh, of which +the chief annual magistrate is styled lord provost. In the neighbourhood +we saw the castle of the old thane of Cawdor. There is one ancient +tower, with its battlements and winding stairs, yet remaining; the rest +of the house is, though not modern, of later erection. + +On the 28th we went to Fort George, which is accounted the most regular +fortification in the island. The major of artillery walked with us round +the walls, and showed us the principles upon which every part was +constructed, and the way in which it could be defended. We dined with +the governour, sir Eyre Coote, and his officers. It was a very pleasant +and instructive day; but nothing puts my honoured mistress out of my +mind. + +At night we came to Inverness, the last considerable town in the north, +where we staid all the next day, for it was Sunday, and saw the ruins of +what is called Macbeth's castle. It never was a large house, but was +strongly situated. From Inverness we were to travel on horseback. + +August 30th. We set out with four horses. We had two highlanders to run +by us, who were active, officious, civil, and hardy. Our journey was, +for many miles, along a military way, made upon the banks of Lough Ness, +a water about eighteen miles long, but not, I think, half a mile broad. +Our horses were not bad, and the way was very pleasant; the rock, out of +which the road was cut, was covered with birch-trees, fern, and heath. +The lake below was beating its bank by a gentle wind, and the rocks +beyond the water, on the right, stood sometimes horrid, and wild, and +sometimes opened into a kind of bay, in which there was a spot of +cultivated ground, yellow with corn. In one part of the way we had trees +on both sides, for, perhaps, half a mile. Such a length of shade, +perhaps Scotland cannot show in any other place. + +You are not to suppose, that here are to be any more towns or inns. We +came to a cottage, which they call the General's Hut, where we alighted +to dine, and had eggs and bacon, and mutton, with wine, rum, and +whiskey. I had water. + +At a bridge over the river, which runs into the Ness the rocks rise on +three sides, with a direction almost perpendicular, to a great height; +they are, in part, covered with trees, and exhibit a kind of dreadful +magnificence:--standing like the barriers of nature, placed to keep +different orders of being in perpetual separation. Near this bridge is +the fall of Fiers, a famous cataract, of which, by clambering over the +rocks, we obtained a view. The water was low, and, therefore, we had +only the pleasure of knowing that rain would make it, at once, pleasing +and formidable; there will then be a mighty flood, foaming along a rocky +channel, frequently obstructed by protuberances, and exasperated by +reverberation, at last precipitated with a sudden descent, and lost in +the depth of a gloomy chasm. + +We came, somewhat late, to Fort Augustus, where the lieutenant-governour +met us beyond the gates, and apologized that, at that hour, he could +not, by the rules of a garrison, admit us, otherwise than at a narrow +door, which only one can enter at a time. We were well entertained and +well lodged, and, next morning, after having viewed the fort, we pursued +our journey. + +Our way now lay over the mountains, which are not to be passed by +climbing them directly, but by traversing; so that, as we went forward, +we saw our baggage following us below, in a direction exactly contrary. +There is, in these ways, much labour, but little danger, and, perhaps, +other places, of which very terrifick representations are made, are not, +in themselves, more formidable. These roads have all been made by hewing +the rock away with pickaxes, or bursting it with gunpowder. The stones, +so separated, are often piled loose, as a wall by the wayside. We saw an +inscription, importing the year in which one of the regiments made two +thousand yards of the road eastward. + +After tedious travel of some hours, we came to what, I believe, we must +call a village, a place where there were three huts built of turf; at +one of which we were to have our dinner and our bed, for we could not +reach any better place that night. This place is called Enoch in +Glenmorrison. The house, in which we lodged, was distinguished by a +chimney, the rest had only a hole for the smoke. Here we had eggs, and +mutton, and a chicken, and a sausage, and rum. In the afternoon tea was +made by a very decent girl in a printed linen: she engaged me so much, +that I made her a present of Cocker's arithmetick. I am, &c. + + +XXI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 14,1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--The post, which comes but once a week into these parts, +is so soon to go, that I have not time to go on where I left off in my +last letter. I have been several days in the island of Raarsa, and am +now again in the isle of Skie, but at the other end of it. + +Skie is almost equally divided between the two great families of +Macdonald and Macleod, other proprietors having only small districts. +The two great lords do not know, within twenty square miles, the +contents of their own territories. + +--kept up but ill the reputation of highland hospitality; we are now +with Macleod, quite at the other end of the island, where there is a +fine young gentleman and fine ladies. The ladies are studying Erse. I +have a cold, and am miserably deaf, and am troublesome to lady Macleod; +I force her to speak loud, but she will seldom speak loud enough. + +Raarsa is an island about fifteen miles long and two broad, under the +dominion of one gentleman, who has three sons and ten daughters; the +eldest is the beauty of this part of the world, and has been polished at +Edinburgh: they sing and dance, and, without expense, have upon their +table most of what sea, air, or earth can afford. I intended to have +written about Raarsa, but the post will not wait longer than while I +send my compliments to my dear master and little mistresses. I am, &c. + + +XXII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 21, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am so vexed at the necessity of sending yesterday so +short a letter, that I purpose to get a long letter beforehand, by +writing something every day, which I may the more easily do, as a cold +makes me now too deaf to take the usual pleasure in conversation. Lady +Macleod is very good to me; and the place, at which we now are, is +equal, in strength of situation, in the wildness of the adjacent +country, and in the plenty and elegance of the domestick entertainment, +to a castle in Gothick romances. The sea, with a little island, is +before us; cascades play within view. Close to the house is the +formidable skeleton of an old castle, probably Danish; and the whole +mass of building stands upon a protuberance of rock, inaccessible till +of late, but by a pair of stairs on the seaside, and secure, in ancient +times, against any enemy that was likely to invade the kingdom of Skie. + +Macleod has offered me an island; if it were not too far off, I should +hardly refuse it: my island would be pleasanter than Brighthelmstone, if +you and my master could come to it; but I cannot think it pleasant to +live quite alone, + + "Oblitusque meorum, obliviscendus et illis." + +That I should be elated, by the dominion of an island to forgetfulness +of my friends at Streatham, I cannot believe, and I hope never to +deserve that they should be willing to forget me. + +It has happened, that I have been often recognised in my journey, where +I did not expect it. At Aberdeen, I found one of my acquaintance +professor of physick: turning aside to dine with a country-gentleman, I +was owned, at table, by one who had seen me at a philosophical lecture: +at Macdonald's I was claimed by a naturalist, who wanders about the +islands to pick up curiosities: and I had once, in London, attracted the +notice of lady Macleod. I will now go on with my account. + +The highland girl made tea, and looked and talked not inelegantly; her +father was by no means an ignorant or a weak man; there were books in +the cottage, among which were some volumes of Prideaux's Connexion: this +man's conversation we were glad of while we staid. He had been out, as +they call it, in forty-five, and still retained his old opinions. He was +going to America, because his rent was raised beyond what he thought +himself able to pay. + +At night our beds were made, but we had some difficulty in persuading +ourselves to lie down in them, though we had put on our own sheets; at +last we ventured, and I slept very soundly in the vale of Glenmorrison, +amidst the rocks and mountains. Next morning our landlord liked us so +well, that he walked some miles with us for our company, through a +country so wild and barren, that the proprietor does not, with all his +pressure upon his tenants, raise more than four hundred pounds a year +for near one hundred square miles, or sixty thousand acres. He let us +know, that he had forty head of black cattle, a hundred goats, and a +hundred sheep, upon a farm that he remembered let at five pounds a year, +but for which he now paid twenty. He told us some stories of their march +into England. At last, he left us, and we went forward, winding among +mountains, sometimes green and sometimes naked, commonly so steep, as +not easily to be climbed by the greatest vigour and activity: our way +was often crossed by little rivulets, and we were entertained with small +streams trickling from the rocks, which, after heavy rains, must be +tremendous torrents. + +About noon we came to a small glen, so they call a valley, which, +compared with other places, appeared rich and fertile; here our guides +desired us to stop, that the horses might graze, for the journey was +very laborious, and no more grass would be found. We made no difficulty +of compliance, and I sat down to take notes on a green bank, with a +small stream running at my feet, in the midst of savage solitude, with +mountains before me, and, on either hand, covered with heath. I looked +around me, and wondered, that I was not more affected, but the mind is +not at all times equally ready to be put in motion; if my mistress, and +master, and Queeney had been there, we should have produced some +reflections among us, either poetical or philosophical; for though +"solitude be the nurse of woe," conversation is often the parent of +remarks and discoveries. + +In about an hour we remounted, and pursued our journey. The lake, by +which we had travelled for some time, ended in a river, which we passed +by a bridge, and came to another glen, with a collection of huts, called +Auknashealds; the huts were, generally, built of clods of earth, held +together by the intertexture of vegetable fibres, of which earth there +are great levels in Scotland, which they call mosses. Moss in Scotland +is bog in Ireland, and moss-trooper is bog-trotter; there was, however, +one hut built of loose stones, piled up, with great thickness, into a +strong, though not solid wall. From this house we obtained some great +pails of milk, and having brought bread with us, we were liberally +regaled. The inhabitants, a very coarse tribe, ignorant of any language +but Erse, gathered so fast about us, that, if we had not had highlanders +with us, they might have caused more alarm than pleasure; they are +called the clan of Macrae. + +We had been told, that nothing gratified the highlanders so much as +snuff and tobacco, and had, accordingly, stored ourselves with both at +Fort Augustus. Boswell opened his treasure, and gave them each a piece +of tobacco roll. We had more bread than we could eat for the present, +and were more liberal than provident. Boswell cut it in slices, and gave +them an opportunity of tasting wheaten bread, for the first time. I then +got some half-pence for a shilling, and made up the deficiencies of +Boswell's distribution, who had given some money among the children. We +then directed, that the mistress of the stone-house should be asked, +what we must pay her. She, who, perhaps, had never before sold any thing +but cattle, knew not, I believe, well what to ask, and referred herself +to us: we obliged her to make some demand, and one of the Highlanders +settled the account with her at a shilling. One of the men advised her, +with the cunning that clowns never can be without, to ask more; but she +said that a shilling was enough. We gave her half-a-crown, and she +offered part of it again. The Macraes were so well pleased with our +behaviour, that they declared it the best day they had seen, since the +time of the old laird of Macleod, who, I suppose, like us, stopped in +their valley, as he was travelling to Skie. + +We were mentioning this view of the highlander's life at Macdonald's, +and mentioning the Macraes, with some degree of pity, when a highland +lady informed us, that we might spare our tenderness, for she doubted +not but the woman, who supplied us with milk, was mistress of thirteen +or fourteen milch cows. + +I cannot forbear to interrupt my narrative. Boswell, with some of his +troublesome kindness, has informed this family, and reminded me, that +the 18th of September is my birthday. The return of my birthday, if I +remember it, fills me with thoughts which it seems to be the general +care of humanity to escape. I can now look back upon threescore and four +years, in which little has been done, and little has been enjoyed; a +life, diversified by misery, spent part in the sluggishness of penury, +and part under the violence of pain, in gloomy discontent, or +importunate distress. But, perhaps, I am better than I should have been, +if I had been less afflicted. With this I will try to be content. + +In proportion as there is less pleasure in retrospective considerations, +the mind is more disposed to wander forward into futurity; but, at +sixty-four, what promises, however liberal, of imaginary good can +futurity venture to make? yet something will be always promised, and +some promises will be always credited. I am hoping, and I am praying, +that I may live better in the time to come, whether long or short, than +I have yet lived, and, in the solace of that hope, endeavour to repose. +Dear Queeney's day is next: I hope she, at sixty-four, will have less to +regret. + +I will now complain no more, but tell my mistress of my travels. + +After we left the Macraes, we travelled on through a country like that +which we passed in the morning. The highlands are very uniform, for +there is little variety in universal barrenness; the rocks, however, are +not all naked, for some have grass on their sides, and birches and +alders on their tops, and in the valleys are often broad and clear +streams, which have little depth, and commonly run very quick; the +channels are made by the violence of the wintry floods; the quickness of +the stream is in proportion to the declivity of the descent, and the +breadth of the channel makes the water shallow in a dry season. + +There are red deer and roe bucks in the mountains, but we found only +goats in the road, and had very little entertainment, as we travelled, +either for the eye or ear. There are, I fancy, no singing birds in the +highlands. + +Towards night we came to a very formidable hill, called Rattiken, which +we climbed with more difficulty than we had yet experienced, and, at +last, came to Glanelg, a place on the seaside, opposite to Skie. We +were, by this time, weary and disgusted, nor was our humour much mended +by our inn, which, though it was built of lime and slate, the +highlander's description of a house, which he thinks magnificent, had +neither wine, bread, eggs, nor any thing that we could eat or drink. +When we were taken up stairs, a dirty fellow bounced out of the bed, +where one of us was to lie. Boswell blustered, but nothing could be got. +At last, a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who heard of our arrival, +sent us rum and white sugar. Boswell was now provided for, in part, and +the landlord prepared some mutton chops, which we could not eat, and +killed two hens, of which Boswell made his servant broil a limb; with +what effect I know not. We had a lemon and a piece of bread, which +supplied me with my supper. When the repast was ended, we began to +deliberate upon bed: Mrs. Boswell had warned us, that we should _catch +something_, and had given us _sheets_, for our _security_, for--and--, +she said, came back from Skie, so scratching themselves. I thought +sheets a slender defence against the confederacy with which we were +threatened, and, by this time, our Highlanders had found a place, where +they could get some hay: I ordered hay to be laid thick upon the bed, +and slept upon it in my great coat: Boswell laid sheets upon his bed, +and reposed in linen, like a gentleman. The horses were turned out to +grass, with a man to watch them. The hill Rattiken, and the inn at +Glanelg, were the only things of which we, or travellers yet more +delicate, could find any pretensions to complain. + +Sept. 2nd. I rose, rustling from the hay, and went to tea, which I +forget, whether we found or brought. We saw the isle of Skie before us, +darkening the horizon with its rocky coast. A boat was procured, and we +lanched into one of the straits of the Atlantick ocean. We had a passage +of about twelve miles to the point where--resided, having come from his +seat in the middle of the island, to a small house on the shore, as we +believe, that he might, with less reproach, entertain us meanly. If he +aspired to meanness, his retrograde ambition was completely gratified, +but he did not succeed equally in escaping reproach. He had no cook, +nor, I suppose, much provision, nor had the lady the common decencies of +her tea-table; we picked up our sugar with our fingers. Boswell was very +angry, and reproached him with his improper parsimony; I did not much +reflect upon the conduct of a man with whom I was not likely to converse +as long at any other time. + +You will now expect that I should give you some account of the isle of +Skie, of which, though I have been twelve days upon it, I have little to +say. It is an island, perhaps, fifty miles long, so much indented by +inlets of the sea, that there is no part of it removed from the water +more than six miles. No part, that I have seen, is plain; you are always +climbing or descending, and every step is upon rock or mire. A walk upon +ploughed ground in England is a dance upon carpets, compared to the +toilsome drudgery of wandering in Skie. There is neither town nor +village in the island, nor have I seen any house but Macleod's, that is +not much below your habitation at Brighthelmstone. In the mountains +there are stags and roe bucks, but no hares, and few rabbits; nor have I +seen any thing that interested me, as a zoologist, except an otter, +bigger than I thought an otter could have been. + +You are, perhaps, imagining that I am withdrawing from the gay and the +busy world, into regions of peace and pastoral felicity, and am enjoying +the relicks of the golden age; that I am surveying nature's magnificence +from a mountain, or remarking her minuter beauties on the flowery bank +of a winding rivulet; that I am invigorating myself in the sunshine, or +delighting my imagination with being hidden from the invasion of human +evils and human passions, in the darkness of a thicket; that I am busy +in gathering shells and pebbles on the shore, or contemplative on a +rock, from which I look upon the water, and consider how many waves are +rolling between me and Streatham. + +The use of travelling is to regulate imagination by reality, and, +instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are. Here are +mountains which I should once have climbed; but to climb steeps is now +very laborious, and to descend them, dangerous; and I am now content +with knowing, that, by scrambling up a rock, I shall only see other +rocks, and a wider circuit of barren desolation. Of streams, we have +here a sufficient number; but they murmur not upon pebbles, but upon +rocks. Of flowers, if Chloris herself were here, I could present her +only with the bloom of heath. Of lawns and thickets, he must read that +would know them, for here is little sun, and no shade. On the sea I look +from my window, but am not much tempted to the shore; for since I came +to this island, almost every breath of air has been a storm, and, what +is worse, a storm with all its severity, but without its magnificence, +for the sea is here so broken into channels, that there is not a +sufficient volume of water either for lofty surges, or a loud roar. + +On Sept. 6th, we left--to visit Raarsa, the island which I have already +mentioned. We were to cross part of Skie on horseback; a mode of +travelling very uncomfortable, for the road is so narrow, where any road +can be found, that only one can go, and so craggy, that the attention +can never be remitted; it allows, therefore, neither the gaiety of +conversation, nor the laxity of solitude; nor has it, in itself, the +amusement of much variety, as it affords only all the possible +transpositions of bog, rock, and rivulet. Twelve miles, by computation, +make a reasonable journey for a day. + +At night we came to a tenant's house, of the first rank of tenants, +where we were entertained better than at the landlord's. There were +books, both English and Latin. Company gathered about us, and we heard +some talk of the second sight, and some talk of the events of forty-five; +a year which will not soon be forgotten among the islanders. The +next day we were confined by a storm. The company, I think, increased, +and our entertainment was not only hospitable, but elegant. At night, a +minister's sister, in very fine brocade, sung Erse songs; I wished to +know the meaning; but the highlanders are not much used to scholastick +questions, and no translations could be obtained. + +Next day, Sept. 8th, the weather allowed us to depart; a good boat was +provided us, and we went to Raarsa, under the conduct of Mr. Malcolm +Macleod, a gentleman who conducted prince Charles through the mountains +in his distresses. The prince, he says, was more active than himself; +they were, at least, one night without any shelter. + +The wind blew enough to give the boat a kind of dancing agitation, and, +in about three or four hours, we arrived at Raarsa, where we were met by +the laird, and his friends, upon the shore. Raarsa, for such is his +title, is master of two islands; upon the smaller of which, called Rona, +he has only flocks and herds. Rona gives title to his eldest son. The +money which he raises annually by rent from all his dominions, which +contain, at least, fifty thousand acres, is not believed to exceed two +hundred and fifty pounds; but, as he keeps a large farm in his own +hands, he sells, every year, great numbers of cattle, which add to his +revenue, and his table is furnished from the farm and from the sea, with +very little expense, except for those things this country does not +produce, and of those he is very liberal. The wine circulates +vigorously; and the tea, chocolate, and coffee, however they are got, +are always at hand. I am, &c. + +We are this morning trying to get out of Skie. + + +XXIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 24, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am still in Skie. Do you remember the song, + + "Every island is a prison, + Strongly guarded by the sea." + +We have, at one time, no boat, and, at another, may have too much wind; +but, of our reception here, we have no reason to complain. We are now +with colonel Macleod, in a more pleasant place than I thought Skie could +afford. Now to the narrative. + +We were received at Raarsa on the seaside, and after clambering, with +some difficulty, over the rocks, a labour which the traveller, wherever +he reposes himself on land, must, in these islands, be contented to +endure; we were introduced into the house, which one of the company +called the court of Raarsa, with politeness, which not the court of +Versailles could have thought defective. The house is not large, though +we were told, in our passage, that it had eleven fine rooms, nor +magnificently furnished; but our utensils were, most commonly, silver. +We went up into a dining-room, about as large as your blue room, where +we had something given us to eat, and tea and coffee. + +Raarsa himself is a man of no inelegant appearance, and of manners +uncommonly refined. Lady Raarsa makes no very sublime appearance for a +sovereign, but is a good housewife, and a very prudent and diligent +conductress of her family. Miss Flora Macleod is a celebrated beauty; +has been admired at Edinburgh; dresses her head very high; and has +manners so lady-like, that I wish her head-dress was lower. The rest of +the nine girls are all pretty; the youngest is between Queeney and Lucy. +The youngest boy, of four years old, runs barefoot, and wandered with us +over the rocks to see a mill: I believe he would walk on that rough +ground, without shoes, ten miles in a day. + +The laird of Raarsa has sometimes disputed the chieftainry of the clan +with Macleod of Skie, but, being much inferiour in extent of +possessions, has, I suppose, been forced to desist. Raarsa, and its +provinces, have descended to its present possessour, through a +succession of four hundred years, without any increase or diminution. It +was, indeed, lately in danger of forfeiture, but the old laird joined +some prudence with his zeal, and when prince Charles landed in Scotland, +made over his estate to this son, the present laird, and led one hundred +men of Raarsa into the field, with officers of his own family. Eighty-six +only came back after the last battle. The prince was hidden, in his +distress, two nights at Raarsa, and the king's troops burnt the whole +country, and killed some of the cattle. + +You may guess at the opinions that prevail in this country; they are, +however, content with fighting for their king; they do not drink for +him. We had no foolish healths. At night, unexpectedly to us, who were +strangers, the carpet was taken up; the fiddler of the family came up, +and a very vigorous and general dance was begun. As I told you, we were +two and thirty at supper; there were full as many dancers; for, though +all who supped did not dance, some danced of the young people who did +not sup. Raarsa himself danced with his children, and old Malcolm, in +his fillibeg, was as nimble, as when he led the prince over the +mountains. When they had danced themselves weary, two tables were +spread, and, I suppose, at least twenty dishes were upon them. In this +country, some preparations of milk are always served up at supper, and +sometimes, in the place of tarts, at dinner. The table was not coarsely +heaped, but, at once, plentiful and elegant. They do not pretend to make +a loaf; there are only cakes, commonly of oats or barley, but they made +me very nice cakes of wheat flour. I always sat at the left hand of lady +Raarsa; and young Macleod of Skie, the chieftain of the clan, sat on the +right. + +After supper, a young lady, who was visiting, sung Erse songs, in which +lady Raarsa joined, prettily enough, but not gracefully; the young +ladies sustained the chorus better. They are very little used to be +asked questions, and not well prepared with answers. When one of the +songs was over, I asked the princess, that sat next to me, "What is that +about?" I question if she conceived that I did not understand it. "For +the entertainment of the company," said she. "But, madam, what is the +meaning of it?" "It is a love song." This was all the intelligence that +I could obtain; nor have I been able to procure the translation of a +single line of Erse. + +At twelve it was bed-time. I had a chamber to myself, which, in eleven +rooms to forty people, was more than my share. How the company and the +family were distributed, is not easy to tell. Macleod, the chieftain, +and Boswell, and I, had all single chambers, on the first floor. There +remained eight rooms only, for, at least, seven and thirty lodgers. I +suppose they put up temporary beds in the dining-room, where they stowed +all the young ladies. There was a room above stairs with six beds, in +which they put ten men. The rest in my next. + + +XXIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ostich in Skie, Sept. 30, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am still confined in Skie. We were unskilful +travellers, and imagined that the sea was an open road, which we could +pass at pleasure; but we have now learned, with some pain, that we may +still wait, for a long time, the caprices of the equinoctial winds, and +sit reading or writing, as I now do, while the tempest is rolling the +sea, or roaring in the mountains. I am now no longer pleased with the +delay; you can hear from me but seldom, and I cannot at all hear from +you. It comes into my mind, that some evil may happen, or that I might +be of use while I am away. But these thoughts are vain; the wind is +violent and adverse, and our boat cannot yet come. I must content myself +with writing to you, and hoping that you will sometime receive my +letter. Now to my narrative. + +Sept. 9th. Having passed the night as is usual, I rose, and found the +dining-room full of company; we feasted and talked, and when the evening +came it brought musick and dancing. Young Macleod, the great proprietor +of Skie, and head of his clan, was very distinguishable; a young man of +nineteen, bred awhile at St. Andrew's, and afterwards at Oxford, a pupil +of G. Strahan. He is a young man of a mind, as much advanced as I have +ever known; very elegant of manners, and very graceful in his person. He +has the full spirit of a feudal chief; and I was very ready to accept +his invitation to Dunvegan. All Raarsa's children are beautiful. The +ladies, all, except the eldest, are in the morning dressed in their +hair. The true highlander never wears more than a riband on her head, +till she is married. + +On the third day Boswell went out, with old Malcolm, to see a ruined +castle, which he found less entire than was promised, but he saw the +country. I did not go, for the castle was, perhaps, ten miles off, and +there is no riding at Raarsa, the whole island being rock or mountain, +from which the cattle often fall, and are destroyed. It is very barren, +and maintains, as near as I could collect, about seven hundred +inhabitants, perhaps ten to a square mile. In these countries you are +not to suppose that you shall find villages or inclosures. The traveller +wanders through a naked desert, gratified sometimes, but rarely, with +the sight of cows, and now and then finds a heap of loose stones and +turf, in a cavity between rocks, where a being, born with all those +powers which education expands, and all those sensations which culture +refines, is condemned to shelter itself from the wind and rain. +Philosophers there are, who try to make themselves believe, that this +life is happy; but they believe it only while they are saying it, and +never yet produced conviction in a single mind; he whom want of words or +images sunk into silence still thought, as he thought before, that +privation of pleasure can never please, and that content is not to be +much envied, when it has no other principle than ignorance of good. + +This gloomy tranquillity, which some may call fortitude, and others, +wisdom, was, I believe, for a long time, to be very frequently found in +these dens of poverty; every man was content to live like his +neighbours, and, never wandering from home, saw no mode of life +preferable to his own, except at the house of the laird, or the laird's +nearest relations, whom he considered as a superiour order of beings, to +whose luxuries or honours he had no pretensions. But the end of this +reverence and submission seems now approaching; the highlanders have +learned, that there are countries less bleak and barren than their own, +where, instead of working for the laird, every man will till his own +ground, and eat the produce of his own labour. Great numbers have been +induced, by this discovery, to go, every year, for some time past, to +America. Macdonald and Macleod, of Skie, have lost many tenants and many +labourers; but Raarsa has not yet been forsaken by a single inhabitant. + +Rona is yet more rocky and barren than Raarsa, and, though it contains, +perhaps, four thousand acres, is possessed only by a herd of cattle and +the keepers. + +I find myself not very able to walk upon the mountains, but one day I +went out to see the walls, yet standing, of an ancient chapel. In almost +every island the superstitious votaries of the Romish church erected +places of worship, in which the drones of convents, or cathedrals, +performed the holy offices; but, by the active zeal of protestant +devotion, almost all of them have sunk into ruin. The chapel at Raarsa +is now only considered as the burying-place of the family, and, I +suppose, of the whole island. + +We would now have gone away, and left room for others to enjoy the +pleasures of this little court; but the wind detained us till the 12th, +when, though it was Sunday, we thought it proper to snatch the +opportunity of a calm day. Raarsa accompanied us in his six-oared boat, +which, he said, was his coach and six. It is, indeed, the vehicle in +which the ladies take the air, and pay their visits, but they have taken +very little care for accommodations. There is no way, in or out of the +boat, for a woman, but by being carried; and in the boat thus dignified +with a pompous name, there is no seat, but an occasional bundle of +straw. Thus we left Raarsa; the seat of plenty, civility, and +cheerfulness. + +We dined at a publick house at Port Re; so called, because one of the +Scottish kings landed there, in a progress through the western isles. +Raarsa paid the reckoning privately. We then got on horseback, and, by a +short, but very tedious journey, came to Kingsburgh, at which the same +king lodged, after he landed. Here I had the honour of saluting the +far-famed Miss Flora Macdonald, who conducted the prince, dressed as her +maid, through the English forces, from the island of Lewes; and, when +she came to Skie, dined with the English officers, and left her maid +below. She must then have been a very young lady; she is now not old; of +a pleasing person, and elegant behaviour. She told me, that she thought +herself honoured by my visit; and, I am sure, that whatever regard she +bestowed on me was liberally repaid. "If thou likest her opinions, thou +wilt praise her virtue." She was carried to London, but dismissed +without a trial, and came down with Malcolm Macleod, against whom +sufficient evidence could not be procured. She and her husband are poor, +and are going to try their fortune in America: + + "Sic rerum volvitur orbis." + +At Kingsburgh we were very liberally feasted, and I slept in the bed in +which the prince reposed in his distress; the sheets which he used were +never put to any meaner offices, but were wrapped up by the lady of the +house, and at last, according to her desire, were laid round her in her +grave. These are not whigs. + +On the 13th, travelling partly on horseback, where we could not row, and +partly on foot, where we could not ride, we came to Dunvegan, which I +have described already. Here, though poor Macleod had been left by his +grandfather overwhelmed with debts, we had another exhibition of feudal +hospitality. There were two stags in the house, and venison came to the +table every day in its various forms. Macleod, besides his estate in +Skie, larger, I suppose, than some English counties, is proprietor of +nine inhabited isles; and, of his islands uninhabited, I doubt if he +very exactly knows the number. I told him that he was a mighty monarch. +Such dominions fill an Englishman with envious wonder; but, when he +surveys the naked mountains, and treads the quaking moor, and wanders +over the wild regions of gloomy barrenness, his wonder may continue, but +his envy ceases. The unprofitableness of these vast domains can be +conceived only by the means of positive instances. The heir of Col, an +island not far distant, has lately told me, how wealthy he should be, if +he could let Rum, another of his islands, for twopence halfpenny an +acre; and Macleod has an estate, which the surveyor reports to contain +eighty thousand acres, rented at six hundred pounds a year. + +While we were at Dunvegan, the wind was high, and the rain violent, so +that we were not able to put forth a boat to fish in the sea, or to +visit the adjacent islands, which may be seen from the house; but we +filled up the time, as we could, sometimes by talk, sometimes by +reading. I have never wanted books in the isle of Skie. + +We were invited one day by the laird and lady of Muck, one of the +western islands, two miles long, and three quarters of a mile high. He +has half his island in his own culture, and upon the other half live one +hundred and fifty dependants, who not only live upon the product, but +export corn sufficient for the payment of their rent. + +Lady Macleod has a son and four daughters; they have lived long in +England, and have the language and manners of English ladies. We lived +with them very easily. The hospitality of this remote region is like +that of the golden age. We have found ourselves treated, at every house, +as if we came to confer a benefit. + +We were eight days at Dunvegan, but we took the first opportunity which +the weather afforded, after the first days, of going away, and, on the +21st, went to Ulinish, where we were well entertained, and wandered a +little after curiosities. In the afternoon, an interval of calm sunshine +courted us out, to see a cave on the shore, famous for its echo. When we +went into the boat, one of our companions was asked, in Erse, by the +boatmen, who they were, that came with him. He gave us characters, I +suppose, to our advantage, and was asked, in the spirit of the +highlands, whether I could recite a long series of ancestors. The +boatmen said, as I perceived afterwards, that they heard the cry of an +English ghost. This, Boswell says, disturbed him. We came to the cave, +and, clambering up the rocks, came to an arch, open at one end, one +hundred and eighty feet long, thirty broad, in the broadest part, and +about thirty high. There was no echo: such is the fidelity of report; +but I saw, what I had never seen before, muscles and whilks, in their +natural state. There was another arch in the rock, open at both ends. + +September 23rd. We removed to Talisker, a house occupied by Mr. Macleod, +a lieutenant colonel in the Dutch service. Talisker has been long in the +possession of gentlemen, and, therefore, has a garden well cultivated, +and, what is here very rare, is shaded by trees; a place where the +imagination is more amused cannot easily be found. The mountains about +it are of great height, with waterfalls succeeding one another so fast, +that as one ceases to be heard, another begins. Between the mountains +there is a small valley, extending to the sea, which is not far off, +beating upon a coast, very difficult of access. + +Two nights before our arrival, two boats were driven upon this coast by +the tempest; one of them had a pilot that knew the passage; the second +followed, but a third missed the true course, and was driven forward, +with great danger of being forced into the vast ocean, but, however, +gained, at last, some other island. The crews crept to Talisker, almost +lifeless with wet, cold, fatigue, and terrour, but the lady took care of +them. She is a woman of more than common qualifications; having +travelled with her husband, she speaks four languages. + +You find, that all the islanders, even in these recesses of life, are +not barbarous. One of the ministers, who has adhered to us almost all +the time, is an excellent scholar. We have now with us the young laird +of Col, who is heir, perhaps, to two hundred square miles of land. He +has first studied at Aberdeen, and afterwards gone to Hertfordshire, to +learn agriculture, being much impressed with desire of improvement; he, +likewise, has the notions of a chief, and keeps a piper. At Macleod's +the bagpipe always played, while we were dining. + +Col has undertaken, by permission of the waves and wind, to carry us +about several of the islands, with which he is acquainted enough to show +us whatever curious is given by nature, or left by antiquity; but we +grew afraid of deviating from our way home, lest we should be shut up +for months upon some little protuberance of rock, that just appears +above the sea, and, perhaps, is scarcely marked upon a map. + +You remember the doge of Genoa, who being asked, what struck him most at +the French court, answered, "myself." I cannot think many things here +more likely to affect the fancy, than to see Johnson ending his +sixty-fourth year in the wilderness of the Hebrides. But now I am here, it +will gratify me very little to return without seeing, or doing my best +to see, what those places afford. I have a desire to instruct myself in +the whole system of pastoral life, but I know not whether I shall be +able to perfect the idea. However, I have many pictures in my mind, +which I could not have had without this journey, and should have passed +it with great pleasure, had you, and master, and Queeney, been in the +party. We should have excited the attention, and enlarged the +observation of each other, and obtained many pleasing topicks of future +conversation. As it is, I travel with my mind too much at home, and, +perhaps, miss many things worthy of observation, or pass them with +transient notice; so that the images, for want of that reimpression +which discussion and comparison produce, easily fade away; but I keep a +book of remarks, and Boswell writes a regular journal of our travels, +which, I think, contains as much of what I say and do, as of all other +occurrences together; "for such a faithful chronicler as Griffith." + +I hope, dearest madam, you are equally careful to reposit proper +memorials of all that happens to you and your family, and then, when we +meet, we shall tell our stories. I wish you had gone this summer, in +your usual splendour, to Brighthelmstone. + +Mr. Thrale probably wonders, how I live all this time without sending to +him for money. Travelling in Scotland is dear enough, dearer, in +proportion to what the country affords, than in England, but residence +in the isles is unexpensive. Company is, I think, considered as a supply +of pleasure, and a relief of that tediousness of life which is felt in +every place, elegant or rude. Of wine and punch they are very liberal, +for they get them cheap; but as there is no custom-house on the island, +they can hardly be considered as smugglers. Their punch is made without +lemons, or any substitute. + +Their tables are very plentiful; but a very nice man would not be +pampered. As they have no meat but as they kill it, they are obliged to +live, while it lasts, upon the same flesh. They kill a sheep, and set +mutton boiled and roast on the table together. They have fish, both of +the sea and of the brooks; but they can hardly conceive that it requires +any sauce. To sauce, in general, they are strangers: now and then butter +is melted, but I dare not always take, lest I should offend by disliking +it. Barley broth is a constant dish, and is made well in every house. A +stranger, if he is prudent, will secure his share, for it is not certain +that he will be able to eat any thing else. + +Their meat, being often newly killed, is very tough, and, as nothing is +sufficiently subdued by the fire, is not easily to be eaten. Carving is +here a very laborious employment, for the knives are never whetted. +Table knives are not of long subsistence in the highlands: every man, +while arms were a regular part of dress, had his knife and fork +appendant to his dirk. Knives they now lay upon the table, but the +handles are apt to show that they have been in other hands, and the +blades have neither brightness nor edge. + +Of silver, there is no want, and it will last long, for it is never +cleaned. They are a nation just rising from barbarity: long contented +with necessaries, now somewhat studious of convenience, but not yet +arrived at delicate discriminations. Their linen is, however, both clean +and fine. Bread, such as we mean by that name, I have never seen in the +isle of Skie. They have ovens, for they bake their pies; but they never +ferment their meal, nor mould a loaf. Cakes of oats and barley are +brought to the table, but I believe wheat is reserved for strangers. +They are commonly too hard for me, and, therefore, I take potatoes to my +meat, and am sure to find them on almost every table. + +They retain so much of the pastoral life, that some preparation of milk +is commonly one of the dishes, both at dinner and supper. Tea is always +drunk at the usual times; but, in the morning, the table is polluted +with a plate of slices of strong cheese. This is peculiar to the +highlands; at Edinburgh there are always honey and sweetmeats on the +morning tea-table. + +Strong liquors they seem to love. Every man, perhaps, woman, begins the +day with a dram; and the punch is made both at dinner and supper. + +They have neither wood nor coal for fuel, but burn peat or turf in their +chimneys. It is dug out of the moors or mosses, and makes a strong and +lasting fire, not always very sweet, and somewhat apt to smoke the pot. + +The houses of inferiour gentlemen are very small, and every room serves +many purposes. In the bed-rooms, perhaps, are laid up stores of +different kinds; and the parlour of the day is a bed-room at night. In +the room which I inhabited last, about fourteen feet square, there were +three chests of drawers, a long chest for larger clothes, two +closet-cupboards, and the bed. Their rooms are commonly dirty, of which +they seem to have little sensibility, and if they had more, clean floors +would be difficultly kept, where the first step from the door is into +the dirt. They are very much inclined to carpets, and seldom fail to lay +down something under their feet, better or worse, as they happen to be +furnished. + +The highland dress, being forbidden by law, is very little used; +sometimes it may be seen, but the English traveller is struck with +nothing so much as the _nudité des pieds_ of the common people. + +Skie is the greatest island, or the greatest but one, among the +Hebrides. Of the soil, I have already given some account: it is +generally barren, but some spots are not wholly unfruitful. The gardens +have apples and pears, cherries, strawberries, raspberries, currants, +and gooseberries, but all the fruit, that I have seen, is small. They +attempt to sow nothing but oats and barley. Oats constitute the bread-corn +of the place. Their harvest is about the beginning of October; and, +being so late, is very much subject to disappointments from the rains +that follow the equinox. This year has been particularly disastrous. +Their rainy season lasts from autumn to spring. They have seldom very +hard frosts; nor was it ever known that a lake was covered with ice +strong enough to bear a skater. The sea round them is always open. The +snow falls, but soon melts; only in 1771, they had a cold spring, in +which the island was so long covered with it, that many beasts, both +wild and domestick, perished, and the whole country was reduced to +distress, from which I know not if it is even yet recovered. + +The animals here are not remarkably small; perhaps they recruit their +breed from the mainland. The cows are sometimes without horns. The +horned and unhorned cattle are not accidental variations, but different +species: they will, however, breed together. + +October 3rd. The wind is now changed, and if we snatch the moment of +opportunity, an escape from this island is become practicable; I have no +reason to complain of my reception, yet I long to be again at home. + +You and my master may, perhaps, expect, after this description of Skie, +some account of myself. My eye is, I am afraid, not fully recovered; my +ears are not mended; my nerves seem to grow weaker, and I have been +otherwise not as well as I sometimes am, but think myself, lately, +better. This climate, perhaps, is not within my degree of healthy +latitude. + +Thus I have given my most honoured mistress the story of me and my +little ramble. We are now going to some other isle, to what we know not; +the wind will tell us. I am, &c. + + +XXV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Mull, Oct. 15, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--Though I have written to Mr. Thrale, yet having a little +more time than was promised me, I would not suffer the messenger to go +without some token of my duty to my mistress, who, I suppose, expects +the usual tribute of intelligence, a tribute which I am not very able to +pay. + +October 3rd. After having been detained, by storms, many days in Skie, +we left it, as we thought, with a fair wind; but a violent gust, which +Bos. had a great mind to call a tempest, forced us into Col, an obscure +island; on which + +--"nulla campis Arbor aestiva recreatur aura." + +There is literally no tree upon the island, part of it is a sandy waste, +over which it would be really dangerous to travel in dry weather, and +with a high wind. It seems to be little more than one continued rock, +covered, from space to space, with a thin layer of earth. It is, +however, according to the highland notion, very populous, and life is +improved beyond the manners of Skie; for the huts are collected into +little villages, and every one has a small garden of roots and cabbage. +The laird has a new house built by his uncle, and an old castle +inhabited by his ancestors. The young laird entertained us very +liberally; he is heir, perhaps, to three hundred square miles of land, +which, at ten shillings an acre, would bring him ninety-six thousand +pounds a year. He is desirous of improving the agriculture of his +country; and, in imitation of the czar, travelled for improvement, and +worked, with his own hands, upon a farm in Hertfordshire, in the +neighbourhood of your uncle, sir Thomas Salusbury. He talks of doing +useful things, and has introduced turnips for winter fodder. He has made +a small essay towards a road. + +Col is but a barren place. Description has here few opportunities of +spreading her colours. The difference of day and night is the only +vicissitude. The succession of sunshine to rain, or of calms to +tempests, we have not known; wind and rain have been our only weather. + +At last, after about nine days, we hired a sloop; and having lain in it +all night, with such accommodations as these miserable vessels can +afford, were landed yesterday on the isle of Mull; from which we expect +an easy passage into Scotland. I am sick in a ship, but recover by lying +down. + +I have not good health; I do not find that travelling much helps me. My +nights are flatulent, though not in the utmost degree, and I have a +weakness in my knees, which makes me very unable to walk. Pray, dear +madam, let me have a long letter. I am, &c. + + +XXVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Inverary, Oct. 24, 1773. + +HONOURED MISTRESS,--My last letters to you, and my dear master, were +written from Mull, the third island of the Hebrides in extent. There is +no post, and I took the opportunity of a gentleman's passage to the +mainland. + +In Mull we were confined two days by the weather; on the third we got on +horseback, and, after a journey, difficult and tedious, over rocks +naked, and valleys untracked, through a country of barrenness and +solitude, we came, almost in the dark, to the seaside, weary and +dejected, having met with nothing but water falling from the mountains +that could raise any image of delight. Our company was the young laird +of Col, and his servant. Col made every Maclean open his house, where he +came, and supply us with horses, when we departed; but the horses of +this country are small, and I was not mounted to my wish. + +At the seaside we found the ferryboat departed; if it had been where it +was expected, the wind was against us, and the hour was late, nor was it +very desirable to cross the sea, in darkness, with a small boat. The +captain of a sloop, that had been driven thither by the storms, saw our +distress, and, as we were hesitating and deliberating, sent his boat, +which, by Col's order, transported us to the isle of Ulva. We were +introduced to Mr. Macquarry, the head of a small clan, whose ancestors +have reigned in Ulva beyond memory, but who has reduced himself, by his +negligence and folly, to the necessity of selling this venerable +patrimony. + +On the next morning we passed the strait to Inch Kenneth, an island +about a mile in length, and less than half a mile broad; in which +Kenneth, a Scottish saint, established a small clerical college, of +which the chapel walls are still standing. At this place I beheld a +scene, which I wish you, and my master, and Queeney had partaken. + +The only family on the island is that of sir Allan, the chief of the +ancient and numerous clan of Maclean; the clan which claims the second +place, yielding only to Macdonald in the line of battle. Sir Allan, a +chieftain, a baronet, and a soldier, inhabits, in this insulated desert, +a thatched hut, with no chambers. Young Col, who owns him as his chief, +and whose cousin was his lady, had, I believe, given him some notice of +our visit; he received us with the soldier's frankness, and the +gentleman's elegance, and introduced us to his daughters, two young +ladies, who have not wanted education suitable to their birth, and who, +in their cottage, neither forgot their dignity, nor affected to remember +it. Do not you wish to have been with us? + +Sir Allan's affairs are in disorder, by the fault of his ancestors: and, +while he forms some scheme for retrieving them, he has retreated hither. + +When our salutations were over, he showed us the island. We walked, +uncovered, into the chapel, and saw, in the reverend ruin, the effects +of precipitate reformation. The floor is covered with ancient +grave-stones, of which the inscriptions are not now legible; and without, +some of the chief families still continue the right of sepulture. The +altar is not yet quite demolished; beside it, on the right side, is a +bass-relief of the virgin with her child, and an angel hovering over her. +On the other side still stands a hand-bell, which, though it has no +clapper, neither presbyterian bigotry, nor barbarian wantonness, has yet +taken away. The chapel is thirty-eight feet long, and eighteen broad. +Boswell, who is very pious, went into it at night, to perform his +devotions, but came back, in haste, for fear of spectres. Near the +chapel is a fountain, to which the water, remarkably pure, is conveyed +from a distant hill, through pipes laid by the Romish clergy, which +still perform the office of conveyance, though they have never been +repaired, since popery was suppressed. + +We soon after went in to dinner, and wanted neither the comforts nor the +elegancies of life. There were several dishes, and variety of liquors. +The servants live in another cottage; in which, I suppose, the meat is +dressed. + +Towards evening, sir Allan told us, that Sunday never passed over him, +like another day. One of the ladies read, and read very well, the +evening service;--and paradise was opened in the wild. + +Next day, 18th, we went and wandered among the rocks on the shore, while +the boat was busy in catching oysters, of which there is a great bed. +Oysters lie upon the sand, one, I think, sticking to another, and +cockles are found a few inches under the sand. + +We then went in the boat to Sondiland, a little island very near. We +found it a wild rock, of about ten acres; part naked, part covered with +sand, out of which we picked shells; and part clothed with a thin layer +of mould, on the grass of which a few sheep are sometimes fed. We then +came back and dined. I passed part of the afternoon in reading, and in +the evening one of the ladies played on her harpsichord, and Boswell and +Col danced a reel with the other. + +On the 19th, we persuaded sir Allan to lanch his boat again, and go with +us to Icolmkill, where the first great preacher of Christianity to the +Scots built a church, and settled a monastery. In our way we stopped to +examine a very uncommon cave on the coast of Mull. We had some +difficulty to make our way over the vast masses of broken rocks that lie +before the entrance, and at the mouth were embarrassed with stones, +which the sea had accumulated, as at Brighthelmstone; but, as we +advanced, we reached a floor of soft sand, and, as we left the light +behind us, walked along a very spacious cavity, vaulted over head with +an arch almost regular, by which a mountain was sustained, at least a +very lofty rock. From this magnificent cavern, went a narrow passage to +the right hand, which we entered with a candle; and though it was +obstructed with great stones, clambered over them to a second expansion +of the cave, in which there lies a great square stone, which might serve +as a table. The air here was very warm, but not oppressive, and the +flame of the candle continued pyramidal. The cave goes onward to an +unknown extent, but we were now one hundred and sixty yards under +ground; we had but one candle, and had never heard of any that went +farther and came back; we, therefore, thought it prudent to return. + +Going forward in our boat, we came to a cluster of rocks, black and +horrid, which sir Allan chose for the place where he would eat his +dinner. We climbed till we got seats. The stores were opened, and the +repast taken. + +We then entered the boat again; the night came upon us; the wind rose; +the sea swelled; and Boswell desired to be set on dry ground: we, +however, pursued our navigation, and passed by several little islands in +the silent solemnity of faint moonshine, seeing little, and hearing only +the wind and the water. At last, we reached the island, the venerable +seat of ancient sanctity; where secret piety reposed, and where falling +greatness was reposited. The island has no house of entertainment, and +we manfully made our bed in a farmer's barn. The description I hope to +give you another time. I am, &c. + + +XXVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, Nov. 12, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Among the possibilities of evil, which my imagination +suggested at this distance, I missed that which has really happened. I +never had much hope of a will in your favour, but was willing to believe +that no will would have been made. The event is now irrevocable; it +remains only to bear it. Not to wish it had been different, is +impossible; but as the wish is painful without use, it is not prudent, +perhaps, not lawful, to indulge it. As life, and vigour of mind, and +sprightliness of imagination, and flexibility of attention, are given us +for valuable and useful purposes, we must not think ourselves at liberty +to squander life, to enervate intellectual strength, to cloud our +thoughts, or fix our attention, when, by all this expense, we know that +no good can be produced. Be alone as little as you can; when you are +alone, do not suffer your thoughts to dwell on what you might have done, +to prevent this disappointment. You, perhaps, could not have done what +you imagine, or might have done it without effect. But even to think in +the most reasonable manner, is, for the present, not so useful, as not +to think. Remit yourself solemnly into the hands of God, and then turn +your mind upon the business and amusements which lie before you. "All is +best," says Chene, "as it has been, excepting the errours of our own +free will." Burton concludes his long book upon Melancholy, with this +important precept: "Be not solitary; be not idle." Remember Chene's +position, and observe Burton's precept. + +We came hither on the ninth of this month. I long to come under your +care, but, for some days, cannot decently get away. They congratulate +our return, as if we had been with Phipps, or Banks; I am ashamed of +their salutations. + +I have been able to collect very little for Queeney's cabinet; but she +will not want toys now, she is so well employed. I wish her success; and +am not without some thought of becoming her schoolfellow. I have got an +Italian Rasselas. + +Surely my dear Lucy will recover; I wish, I could do her good. I love +her very much; and should love another godchild, if I might have the +honour of standing to the next baby. I am, &c. + + +XXVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, Nov. 18, 1773. + +MY DEAREST MISTRESS,--This is the last letter that I shall write; while +you are reading it, I shall be coming home. + +I congratulate you upon your boy; but you must not think that I will +love him, all at once, as well as I love Harry; for Harry, you know, is +so rational. I shall love him by degrees. + +Poor, pretty, dear Lucy! Can nothing do her good? I am sorry to lose +her. But, if she must be taken from us, let us resign her, with +confidence, into the hands of him who knows, and who only knows, what is +best both for us and her. + +Do not suffer yourself to be dejected. Resolution and diligence will +supply all that is wanting, and all that is lost. But if your health +should be impaired, I know not where to find a substitute. I shall have +no mistress; Mr. Thrale will have no wife; and the little flock will +have no mother. + +I long to be home, and have taken a place in the coach for Monday; I +hope, therefore, to be in London on Friday, the 26th, in the evening. +Please to let Mrs. Williams know. I am, &c. + + +XXIX.--To THE SAME. + +Lichfield, June 23, 1775. + +DEAR MADAM,--Now I hope you are thinking: Shall I have a letter to-day +from Lichfield? Something of a letter you will have; how else can I +expect that you should write? and the morning, on which I should miss a +letter, would be a morning of uneasiness, notwithstanding all that would +be said or done by the sisters of Stowhill, who do and say whatever good +they can. They give me good words, and cherries, and strawberries. Lady +****, and her mother and sister, were visiting there yesterday, and +Lady ---- took her tea before her mother. + +Mrs. Cobb is to come to Miss Porter's this afternoon. Miss A--comes +little near me. Mr. Langley, of Ashbourne, was here to-day, in his way +to Birmingham, and every body talks of you. + +The ladies of the Amicable society are to walk, in a few days, from the +townhall to the cathedral, in procession, to hear a sermon. They walk in +linen gowns, and each has a stick, with an acorn; but for the acorn they +could give no reason, till I told them of the civick crown. + +I have just had your sweet letter, and am glad that you are to be at the +regatta. You know how little I love to have you left out of any shining +part of life. You have every right to distinction, and should, +therefore, be distinguished. You will see a show with philosophick +superiority, and, therefore, may see it safely. It is easy to talk of +sitting at home, contented, when others are seeing, or making shows. +But, not to have been where it is supposed, and seldom supposed falsely, +that all would go if they could; to be able to say nothing, when every +one is talking; to have no opinion, when every one is judging; to hear +exclamations of rapture, without power to depress; to listen to +falsehoods, without right to contradict, is, after all, a state of +temporary inferiority, in which the mind is rather hardened by +stubbornness, than supported by fortitude. If the world be worth +winning, let us enjoy it; if it is to be despised, let us despise it by +conviction. But the world is not to be despised, but as it is compared +with something better. Company is, in itself, better than solitude, and +pleasure better than indolence: "Ex nihilo nihil fit," says the moral, +as well as the natural, philosopher. By doing nothing, and by knowing +nothing, no power of doing good can be obtained. He must mingle with the +world, that desires to be useful. Every new scene impresses new ideas, +enriches the imagination, and enlarges the power of reason, by new +topicks of comparison. You, that have seen the regatta, will have +images, which we, who miss it, must want; and no intellectual images are +without use. But, when you are in this scene of splendour and gaiety, do +not let one of your fits of negligence steal upon you. "Hoc age," is the +great rule, whether you are serious or merry; whether you are stating +the expenses of your family, learning science, or duty, from a folio, or +floating on the Thames in a fancied dress. Of the whole entertainment, +let me not hear so copious, nor so true an account, from any body as +from you. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +XXX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sure I write and write, and every letter that comes +from you charges me with not writing. Since I wrote to Queeney I have +written twice to you, on the 6th and the 9th: be pleased to let me know +whether you have them, or have them not. That of the 6th you should +regularly have had on the 8th, yet your letter of the 9th seems not to +mention it; all this puzzles me. + +Poor dear ****! He only grows dull, because he is sickly; age has not +yet begun to impair him; nor is he such a chameleon as to take +immediately the colour of his company. When you see him again you will +find him reanimated. Most men have their bright and their cloudy days; +at least they have days when they put their powers into action, and days +when they suffer them to repose. + +Fourteen thousand pounds make a sum sufficient for the establishment of +a family, and which, in whatever flow of riches or confidence of +prosperity, deserves to be very seriously considered. I hope a great +part of it has paid debts, and no small part bought land. As for +gravelling, and walling, and digging, though I am not much delighted +with them, yet something, indeed much, must be allowed to every man's +taste. He that is growing rich has a right to enjoy part of the growth +his own way. I hope to range in the walk, and row upon the water, and +devour fruit from the wall. + +Dr. Taylor wants to be gardening. He means to buy a piece of ground in +the neighbourhood, and surround it with a wall, and build a gardener's +house upon it, and have fruit, and be happy. Much happiness it will not +bring him; but what can he do better? If I had money enough, what would +I do? Perhaps, if you and master did not hold me, I might go to Cairo, +and down the Red sea to Bengal, and take a ramble in India. Would this +be better than building and planting? It would surely give more variety +to the eye, and more amplitude to the mind. Half fourteen thousand would +send me out to see other forms of existence, and bring me back to +describe them. + +I answer this the day on which I had yours of the 9th, that is on the +11th. Let me know when it comes. I am, &c. + + +XXXI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, August 2, 1775. + +MADAM,--I dined to-day at Stowhill, and am come away to write my letter. +Never, surely, was I such a writer before. Do you keep my letters? I am +not of your opinion, that I shall not like to read them hereafter; for +though there is in them not much history of mind, or anything else, they +will, I hope, always be, in some degree, the records of a pure and +blameless friendship, and, in some hours of languor and sadness, may +revive the memory of more cheerful times. + +Why you should suppose yourself not desirous hereafter to read the +history of your own mind, I do not see. Twelve years, on which you now +look, as on a vast expanse of life, will, probably, be passed over +uniformly and smoothly, with very little perception of your progress, +and with very few remarks upon the way. The accumulation of knowledge, +which you promise to yourself, by which the future is to look back upon +the present, with the superiority of manhood to infancy, will, perhaps, +never be attempted, or never will be made; and you will find, as +millions have found before you, that forty-five has made little sensible +addition to thirty-three. + +As the body, after a certain time, gains no increase of height, and +little of strength, there is, likewise, a period, though more variable +by external causes, when the mind commonly attains its stationary point, +and very little advances its powers of reflection, judgment, and +ratiocination. The body may acquire new modes of motion, or new +dexterities of mechanick operations, but its original strength receives +not improvement: the mind may be stored with new languages, or new +sciences, but its power of thinking remains nearly the same, and, unless +it attains new subjects of meditation, it commonly produces thoughts of +the same force and the same extent, at very distant intervals of life; +as the tree, unless a foreign fruit be ingrafted, gives, year after +year, productions of the same form, and the same flavour. + +By intellectual force, or strength of thought, is meant the degree of +power which the mind possesses of surveying the subject of meditation, +with its circuit of concomitants, and its train of dependence. + +Of this power, which all observe to be very different in different +minds, part seems the gift of nature, and part the acquisition of +experience. When the powers of nature have attained their intended +energy, they can be no more advanced. The shrub can never become a tree. +And it is not unreasonable to suppose, that they are, before the middle +of life, in their full vigour. + +Nothing then remains but practice and experience; and, perhaps, why they +do so little, may be worth inquiry. + +But I have just now looked, and find it so late, that I will inquire +against the next post night. I am, &c. + + +XXXII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, Augusts, 1775. + +DEAR MADAM,--Instead of forty reasons for my return, one is sufficient, +--that you wish for my company. I purpose to write no more till you see +me. The ladies at Stowhill and Greenhill are unanimously of opinion, +that it will be best to take a post chaise, and not to be troubled with +the vexations of a common carriage. I will venture to suppose the ladies +at Streatham to be of the same mind. + +You will now expect to be told, why you will not be so much wiser, as +you expect, when you have lived twelve years longer. + +It is said, and said truly, that experience is the best teacher; and it +is supposed, that, as life is lengthened, experience is increased. But a +closer inspection of human life will discover, that time often passes +without any incident which can much enlarge knowledge, or ratify +judgment. When we are young we learn much, because we are universally +ignorant; we observe every thing, because every thing is new. But, after +some years, the occurrences of daily life are exhausted; one day passes +like another, in the same scene of appearances, in the same course of +transactions: we have to do what we have often done, and what we do not +try, because we do not wish to do much better; we are told what we +already know, and, therefore, what repetition cannot make us know with +greater certainty. + +He that has early learned much, perhaps, seldom makes, with regard to +life and manners, much addition to his knowledge; not only, because, as +more is known, there is less to learn, but because a mind, stored with +images and principles, turns inwards for its own entertainment, and is +employed in settling those ideas, which run into confusion, and in +recollecting those which are stealing away; practices by which wisdom +may be kept, but not gained. The merchant, who was at first busy in +acquiring money, ceases to grow richer, from the time when he makes it +his business only to count it. + +Those who have families, or employments, are engaged in business of +little difficulty, but of great importance, requiring rather assiduity +of practice than subtilty of speculation, occupying the attention with +images too bulky for refinement, and too obvious for research. The right +is already known: what remains is only to follow it. Daily business adds +no more to wisdom, than daily lesson to the learning of the teacher. But +of how few lives does not stated duty claim the greater part! + +Far the greater part of human minds never endeavour their own +improvement. Opinions, once received from instruction, or settled by +whatever accident, are seldom recalled to examination; having been once +supposed to be right, they are never discovered to be erroneous, for no +application is made of any thing that time may present, either to shake +or to confirm them. From this acquiescence in preconceptions none are +wholly free; between fear of uncertainty, and dislike of labour, every +one rests while he might yet go forward; and they that were wise at +thirty-three, are very little wiser at forty-five. + +Of this speculation you are, perhaps, tired, and would rather hear of +Sophy. I hope, before this comes, that her head will be easier, and your +head less filled with fears and troubles, which you know are to be +indulged only to prevent evil, not to increase it. + +Your uneasiness about Sophy is, probably, unnecessary, and, at worst, +your own children are healthful, and your affairs prosperous. Unmingled +good cannot be expected; but, as we may lawfully gather all the good +within our reach, we may be allowed to lament after that which we lose. +I hope your losses are at an end, and that, as far as the condition of +our present existence permits, your remaining life will be happy. I am, +&c. + + +XXXIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, March 25, 1776. + +DEAR MADAM,--This letter will not, I hope, reach you many days before +me; in a distress which can be so little relieved, nothing remains for a +friend, but to come and partake it. + +Poor, dear, sweet little boy! When I read the letter this day to Mrs. +Aston, she said, "such a death is the next to translation." Yet, however +I may convince myself of this, the tears are in my eyes, and yet I could +not love him as you loved him, nor reckon upon him for a future comfort, +as you and his father reckoned upon him. + +He is gone, and we are going! We could not have enjoyed him long, and +shall not long be separated from him. He has, probably, escaped many +such pangs as you are now feeling. + +Nothing remains, but that, with humble confidence we resign ourselves to +almighty goodness, and fall down, without irreverent murmurs, before the +sovereign distributer of good and evil, with hope, that though sorrow +endureth for a night, yet joy may come in the morning. + +I have known you, madam, too long to think that you want any arguments +for submission to the supreme will; nor can my consolation have any +effect, but that of showing that I wish to comfort you. What can be +done, you must do for yourself. Remember first, that your child is +happy; and then, that he is safe, not only from the ills of this world, +but from those more formidable dangers which extend their mischief to +eternity. You have brought into the world a rational being; have seen +him happy during the little life that has been granted him; and can have +no doubt but that his happiness is now permanent and immutable. + +When you have obtained, by prayer, such tranquillity as nature will +admit, force your attention, as you can, upon your accustomed duties and +accustomed entertainments. You can do no more for our dear boy, but you +must not, therefore, think less on those whom your attention may make +fitter for the place to which he is gone. I am, dearest, dearest madam, +your most affectionate humble servant. + + +XXXIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Sept. 6, 1777. + +DEAREST LADY,--It is true, that I have loitered, and, what is worse, +loitered with very little pleasure. The time has run away, as most time +runs, without account, without use, and without memorial. But, to say +this of a few weeks, though not pleasing, might be borne; but what ought +to be the regret of him who, in a few days, will have so nearly the same +to say of sixty-eight years? But complaint is vain. + +If you have nothing to say from the neighbourhood of the metropolis, +what can occur to me, in little cities and petty towns; in places which +we have both seen, and of which no description is wanted? I have left +part of the company with which you dined here, to come and write this +letter, in which I have nothing to tell, but that my nights are very +tedious. I cannot persuade myself to forbear trying something. + +As you have now little to do, I suppose you are pretty diligent at the +Thraliana; and a very curious collection posterity will find it. Do not +remit the practice of writing down occurrences as they arise, of +whatever kind, and be very punctual in annexing the dates. Chronology, +you know, is the eye of history; and every man's life is of importance +to himself. Do not omit painful casualties, or unpleasing passages; they +make the variegation of existence; and there are many transactions, of +which I will not promise, with Aeneas, "et haec olim meminisse juvabit;" +yet that remembrance which is not pleasant, may be useful. There is, +however, an intemperate attention to slight circumstances, which is to +be avoided, lest a great part of life be spent in writing the history of +the rest. Every day, perhaps, has something to be noted; but in a +settled and uniform course, few days can have much. + +Why do I write all this, which I had no thought of when I began! The +Thraliana drove it all into my head. It deserves, however, an hour's +reflection, to consider how, with the least loss of time, the loss of +what we wish to retain may be prevented. + +Do not neglect to write to me, for when a post comes empty, I am really +disappointed. + +Boswell, I believe, will meet me here. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XXXV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, October 3, 1777, + +DEAR MADAM,--This is the last time that I shall write, in this +excursion, from this place. To-morrow I shall be, I hope, at Birmingham; +from which place I shall do my best to find the nearest way home. I come +home, I think, worse than I went; and do not like the state of my +health. But, "vive hodie," make the most of life. I hope to get better, +and--sweep the cobwebs. But I have sad nights. Mrs. Aston has sent me to +Mr. Greene, to be cured. + +Did you see Foote at Brighthelmstone?--Did you think he would so soon be +gone?--Life, says Falstaff, is a shuttle. He was a fine fellow in his +way; and the world is really impoverished by his sinking glories. Murphy +ought to write his life, at least, to give the world a Footeiana. Now, +will any of his contemporaries bewail him? Will genius change _his sex_ +to weep? I would really have his life written with diligence. + +It will be proper for me to work pretty diligently now for some time. I +hope to get through, though so many weeks have passed. Little lives and +little criticisms may serve. + +Having been in the country so long, with very little to detain me, I am +rather glad to look homewards. I am, &c. + + +XXXVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +October 13, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--Yet I do love to hear from you: such pretty, kind letters +as you send. But it gives me great delight to find that my master misses +me, I begin to wish myself with you more than I should do, if I were +wanted less. It is a good thing to stay away, till one's company is +desired, but not so good to stay, after it is desired. + +You know I have some work to do. I did not set to it very soon; and if I +should go up to London with nothing done, what would be said, but that I +was--who can tell what? I, therefore, stay till I can bring up something +to stop their mouths, and then-- + +Though I am still at Ashbourne, I receive your dear letters, that come +to Lichfield, and you continue that direction, for I think to get +thither as soon as I can. + +One of the does died yesterday, and I am afraid her fawn will be +starved; I wish Miss Thrale had it to nurse; but the doctor is now all +for cattle, and minds very little either does or hens. + +How did you and your aunt part? Did you turn her out of doors, to begin +your journey? or did she leave you by her usual shortness of visits? I +love to know how you go on. + +I cannot but think on your kindness and my master's. Life has, upon the +whole, fallen short, very short, of my early expectation; but the +acquisition of such a friendship, at an age, when new friendships are +seldom acquired, is something better than the general course of things +gives man a right to expect. I think on it with great delight: I am not +very apt to be delighted. I am, &c. + + +XXXVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, October 27, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--You talk of writing and writing, as if you had all the +writing to yourself. If our correspondence were printed, I am sure +posterity, for posterity is always the author's favourite, would say +that I am a good writer too.--"Anch'io sono pittore." To sit down so +often with nothing to say; to say something so often, almost without +consciousness of saying, and without any remembrance of having said, is +a power of which I will not violate my modesty by boasting, but I do not +believe that every body has it. + +Some, when they write to their friends, are all affection; some are wise +and sententious; some strain their powers for efforts of gaiety; some +write news, and some write secrets; but to make a letter without +affection, without wisdom, without gaiety, without news, and without a +secret, is, doubtless, the great epistolick art. + +In a man's letters, you know, madam, his soul lies naked, his letters +are only the mirror of his breast; whatever passes within him, is shown, +undisguised, in its natural process; nothing is inverted, nothing +distorted: you see systems in their elements; you discover actions in +their motives. + +Of this great truth, sounded by the knowing to the ignorant, and so +echoed by the ignorant to the knowing, what evidence have you now before +you? Is not my soul laid open in these veracious pages? Do not you see +me reduced to my first principles? This is the pleasure of corresponding +with a friend, where doubt and distrust have no place, and every thing +is said as it is thought. The original idea is laid down in its simple +purity, and all the supervenient conceptions are spread over it, +"stratum super stratum," as they happen to be formed. These are the +letters by which souls are united, and by which minds, naturally in +unison, move each other, as they are moved themselves. I know, dearest +lady, that in the perusal of this, such is the consanguinity of our +intellects, you will be touched, as I am touched. I have, indeed, +concealed nothing from you, nor do I expect ever to repent of having +thus opened my heart. I am, &c. + + +XXXVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 10, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--And so, supposing that I might come to town, and neglect to +give you notice, or thinking some other strange thought, but certainly +thinking wrong, you fall to writing about me to Tom Davies, as if he +could tell you anything that I would not have you know. As soon as I +came hither, I let you know of my arrival; and the consequence is, that +I am summoned to Brighthelmstone, through storms, and cold, and dirt, +and all the hardships of wintry journeys. You know my natural dread of +all those evils; yet, to show my master an example of compliance, and to +let you know how much I long to see you, and to boast how little I give +way to disease, my purpose is to be with you on Friday. + +I am sorry for poor Nezzy, and hope she will, in time, be better; I hope +the same for myself. The rejuvenescency of Mr. Scrase gives us both +reason to hope, and, therefore, both of us rejoice in his recovery. I +wish him well, besides, as a friend to my master. + +I am just come home from not seeing my lord mayor's show, but I might +have seen, at least, part of it. But I saw Miss Wesley and her brothers; +she sends her compliments. Mrs. Williams is come home, I think, a very +little better. + +Every body was an enemy to that wig.--We will burn it, and get drunk; +for what is joy without drink? Wagers are laid in the city about our +success, which is yet, as the French call it, problematical. Well--but, +seriously, I think, I shall be glad to see you in your own hair; but do +not take too much time in combing, and twisting, and papering, and +unpapering, and curling, and frizling, and powdering, and getting out +the powder, with all the other operations required in the cultivation of +a head of hair; yet let it be combed, at least, once in three months on +the quarterday.--I could wish it might be combed once at least, in six +weeks; if I were to indulge my wishes but what are wishes without hopes, +I should fancy the operation performed--one knows not when one has +enough--perhaps, every morning. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XXXIX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, June 14, 1779. + +DEAR MADAM,--Your account of Mr. Thrale's illness is very terrible; but +when I remember that he seems to have it peculiar to his constitution, +that, whatever distemper he has, he always has his head affected, I am +less frighted. The seizure was, I think, not apoplectical but +hysterical, and, therefore, not dangerous to life. I would have you, +however, consult such physicians as you think you can best trust. +Broomfield seems to have done well and, by his practice, appears not to +suspect an apoplexy. This is a solid and fundamental comfort. I remember +Dr. Marsigli, an Italian physician, whose seizure was more violent than +Mr. Thrale's, for he fell down helpless, but his case was not considered +as of much danger, and he went safe home, and is now a professor at +Padua. His fit was considered as only hysterical. + +I hope sir Philip, who franked your letter, comforts you as well as Mr. +Seward. If I can comfort you, I will come to you; but I hope you are now +no longer in want of any help to be happy. I am, &c. + +The doctor sends his compliments; he is one of the people that are +growing old. + + +XL.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, June 14, 1779. + +DEAR MADAM,--How near we are all to extreme danger. We are merry or sad, +or busy or idle, and forget that death is hovering over us. You are a +dear lady for writing again. The case, as you now describe it, is worse +than I conceived it, when I read your first letter. It is still, +however, not apoplectick, but seems to have something worse than +hysterical--a tendency to a palsy, which, I hope, however, is now over. +I am glad that you have Heberden, and hope we are all safer. I am the +more alarmed by this violent seizure, as I can impute it to no wrong +practices, or intemperance of any kind, and, therefore, know not how any +defence or preservative can be obtained. Mr. Thrale has, certainly, less +exercise than when he followed the foxes; but he is very far from +unwieldiness or inactivity, and further still from any vitious or +dangerous excess. I fancy, however, he will do well to ride more. + +Do, dear madam, let me know, every post, how he goes on. Such sudden +violence is very dreadful; we know not by what it is let loose upon us, +nor by what its effects are limited. + +If my coming can either assist or divert, or be useful to any purpose, +let me but know: I will soon be with you. Mrs. Kennedy, Queeney's +Baucis, ended, last week, a long life of disease and poverty. She had +been married about fifty years. + +Dr. Taylor is not much amiss, but always complaining. I am, &c. + + +XLI.--To MR. THRALE. + +Lichfield, June 23, 1779. + +DEAR SIR,--To show how well I think of your health, I have sent you a +hundred pounds, to keep for me. It will come within one day of +quarterday, and that day you must give me. I came by it in a very +uncommon manner, and would not confound it with the rest. + +My wicked mistress talks as if she thought it possible for me to be +indifferent or negligent about your health or hers. If I could have done +any good, I had not delayed an hour to come to you; and I will come very +soon, to try if my advice can be of any use, or my company of any +entertainment. + +What can be done, you must do for yourself: do not let any uneasy +thought settle in your mind. Cheerfulness and exercise are your great +remedies. Nothing is, for the present, worth your anxiety. "Vivite +laeti" is one of the great rules of health. I believe it will be good to +ride often, but never to weariness, for weariness is, itself, a +temporary resolution of the nerves, and is, therefore, to be avoided. +Labour is exercise continued to fatigue--exercise is labour used only, +while it produces pleasure. + +Above all, keep your mind quiet: do not think with earnestness even of +your health; but think on such things as may please without too much +agitation; among which, I hope, is, dear sir, your, &c. + + +XLII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAR MADAM,--On Sunday I dined with poor Lawrence, who is deafer than +ever. When he was told that Dr. Moisy visited Mr. Thrale, he inquired +for what? and said there was nothing to be done, which nature would not +do for herself. On Sunday evening, I was at Mrs. Vesy's, and there was +inquiry about my master, but I told them all good. There was Dr. Bernard +of Eton, and we made a noise all the evening; and there was Pepys, and +Wraxal, till I drove him away. And I have no loss of my mistress, who +laughs, and frisks, and frolicks it all the long day, and never thinks +of poor Colin. + +If Mr. Thrale will but continue to mend, we shall, I hope, come together +again, and do as good things as ever we did; but, perhaps, you will be +made too proud to heed me, and yet, as I have often told you, it will +not be easy for you to find such another. + +Queeney has been a good girl, and wrote me a letter; if Burney said she +would write, she told you a fib. She writes nothing to me. She can write +home fast enough. I have a good mind not to let her know that Dr. +Bernard, to whom I had recommended her novel, speaks of it with great +commendation, and that the copy which she lent me, has been read by Dr. +Lawrence three times over. And yet what a gipsy it is. She no more minds +me than if I were a Brangton. Pray speak to Queeney to write again. + +I have had a cold and a cough, and taken opium, and think I am better. +We have had very cold weather; bad riding weather for my master, but he +will surmount it all. Did Mrs. Browne make any reply to your comparison +of business with solitude, or did you quite down her? I am much pleased +to think that Mrs. Cotton thinks me worth a frame, and a place upon her +wall; her kindness was hardly within my hope, but time does wonderful +things. All my fear is, that if I should come again, my print would be +taken down. I fear I shall never hold it. + +Who dines with you? Do you see Dr. Woodward, or Dr. Harrington? Do you +go to the house where they write for the myrtle? You are at all places +of high resort, and bring home hearts by dozens; while I am seeking for +something to say about men, of whom I know nothing, but their verses, +and, sometimes, very little of them. Now I have begun, however, I do not +despair of making an end. Mr. Nichols holds, that Addison is the most +taking of all that I have done. I doubt they will not be done, before +you come away. + +Now you think yourself the first writer in the world for a letter about +nothing. Can you write such a letter as this? So miscellaneous, with +such noble disdain of regularity, like Shakespeare's works; such +graceful negligence of transition, like the ancient enthusiasts? The +pure voice of nature and of friendship. Now, of whom shall I proceed to +speak? Of whom but Mrs. Montague? Having mentioned Shakespeare and +nature, does not the name of Montague force itself upon me? Such were +the transitions of the ancients, which now seem abrupt, because the +intermediate idea is lost to modern understandings. I wish her name had +connected itself with friendship; but, ah, Colin, thy hopes are in vain! +One thing, however, is left me, I have still to complain; but I hope I +shall not complain much, while you have any kindness for me. I am, +dearest, and dearest madam, your, &c. + +London, April, 11, 1780. + + +XLIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Mr. Thrale never will live abstinently, till he can +persuade himself to abstain by rule. I lived on potatoes on Friday, and +on spinage to-day; but I have had, I am afraid, too many dinners of +late. I took physick too both days, and hope to fast to-morrow. When he +comes home, we will shame him, and Jebb shall scold him into regularity. +I am glad, however, that he is always one of the company, and that my +dear Queeney is again another. Encourage, as you can, the musical girl. + +Nothing is more common than mutual dislike, where mutual approbation is +particularly expected. There is often on both sides a vigilance, not +over-benevolent; and as attention is strongly excited, so that nothing +drops unheeded, any difference in taste or opinion, and some difference, +where there is no restraint, will commonly appear, immediately generates +dislike. + +Never let criticisms operate upon your face, or your mind; it is very +rarely that an author is hurt by his criticks. The blaze of reputation +cannot be blown out, but it often dies in the socket; a very few names +may be considered as perpetual lamps, that shine unconsumed. From the +author of Fitzosborne's Letters, I cannot think myself in much danger. I +met him only once, about thirty years ago, and, in some small dispute, +reduced him to whistle; having not seen him since, that is the last +impression. Poor Moore, the fabulist, was one of the company. + +Mrs. Montague's long stay, against her own inclination, is very +convenient. You would, by your own confession, want a companion; and she +is "par pluribus," conversing with her you may "find variety in one." + +At Mrs. Ord's I met one Mrs. B--, a travelled lady, of great spirit, and +some consciousness of her own abilities. We had a contest of gallantry, +an hour long, so much to the diversion of the company, that at Ramsay's, +last night, in a crowded room, they would have pitted us again. There +were Smelt, and the bishop of St. Asaph, who comes to every place; and +lord Monboddo, and sir Joshua, and ladies out of tale. + +The exhibition, how will you do either to see or not to see! The +exhibition is eminently splendid. There is contour, and keeping, and +grace, and expression, and all the varieties of artificial excellence. +The apartments were truly very noble. The pictures, for the sake of a +skylight, are at the top of the house; there we dined, and I sat over +against the archbishop of York. See how I live, when I am not under +petticoat government. I am, &c. + +London, May 1, 1780. + + +XLIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, June 9, 1780. + +DEAR MADAM,--To the question, Who was impressed with consternation? it +may, with great truth, be answered, that every body was impressed, for +nobody was sure of his safety. + +On Friday, the good protestants met in St. George's fields, at the +summons of lord George Gordon, and marching to Westminster, insulted the +lords and commons, who all bore it with great tameness. At night, the +outrages began, by the demolition of the mass-house by Lincoln's inn. + +An exact journal of a week's defiance of government, I cannot give you. +On Monday, Mr. Strahan, who had been insulted, spoke to lord Mansfield, +who had, I think been insulted too, of the licentiousness of the +populace; and his lordship treated it, as a very slight irregularity. On +Tuesday night, they pulled down Fielding's house and burnt his goods in +the street. They had gutted, on Monday sir George Saville's house, but +the building was saved. On Tuesday evening, leaving Fielding's ruins, +they went to Newgate, to demand their companions, who had been seized, +demolishing the chapel. The keeper could not release them, but by the +mayor's permission, which he went to ask; at his return, he found all +the prisoners released, and Newgate in a blaze. They then went to +Bloomsbury, and fastened upon lord Mansfield's house which they pulled +down; and as for his goods, they totally burnt them. They have since +gone to Caen wood, but a guard was there before them. They plundered +some papists, I think, and burnt a mass-house in Moorfields the same +night. + +On Wednesday, I walked with Dr. Scott, to look at Newgate, and found it +in ruins, with the fire yet glowing As I went by, the protestants were +plundering the Sessions house at the Old Bailey. There were not, I +believe, a hundred; but they did their work at leisure, in full +security, without sentinels, without trepidation, as men lawfully +employed in full day. Such is the cowardice of a commercial place. On +Wednesday they broke open the Fleet, and the King's Bench, and the +Marshalsea, and Wood street Counter, and Clerkenwell Bridewell, and +released all the prisoners. + +At night, they set fire to the Fleet, and to the King's Bench, and I +know not how many other places; and one might see the glare of +conflagration fill the sky from many parts. The sight was dreadful. Some +people were threatened; Mr. Strahan advised me to take care of myself. +Such a time of terrour you have been happy in not seeing. + +The king said, in council, that the magistrates had not done their duty, +but that he would do his own; and a proclamation was published, +directing us to keep our servants within doors, as the peace was now to +be preserved by force. The soldiers were sent out to different parts, +and the town is now at quiet. + +What has happened at your house, you will know; the harm is only a few +butts of beer; and I think you may be sure that the danger is over. +There is a body of soldiers at St. Margaret's hill. + +Of Mr. Tyson I know nothing, nor can guess to what he can allude; but I +know that a young fellow of little more than seventy is naturally an +unresisted conqueror of hearts. + +Pray tell Mr. Thrale that I live here and have no fruit, and if he does +not interpose, am not likely to have much; but, I think, he might as +well give me a little, as give all to the gardener. + +Pray make my compliments to Queeney and Burney. I am, &c. + + +XLV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +June 10, 1780. + +DEAR MADAM,--You have, ere now, heard and read enough to convince you, +that we have had something to suffer, and something to fear, and, +therefore, I think it necessary to quiet the solicitude which you +undoubtedly feel, by telling you that our calamities and terrours are +now at an end. The soldiers are stationed so as to be every where within +call; there is no longer any body of rioters, and the individuals are +hunted to their holes, and led to prison; the streets are safe and +quiet: lord George was last night sent to the Tower. Mr. John Wilkes +was, this day, with a party of soldiers, in my neighbourhood, to seize +the publisher of a seditious paper. Every body walks, and eats, and +sleeps in security. But the history of the last week would fill you with +amazement: it is without any modern example. + +Several chapels have been destroyed, and several inoffensive papists +have been plundered, but the high sport was to burn the gaols. This was +a good rabble trick. The debtors and the criminals were all set at +liberty; but, of the criminals, as has always happened, many are already +retaken, and two pirates have surrendered themselves, and it is expected +that they will be pardoned. + +Government now acts again with its proper force; and we are all again +under the protection of the king and the law. I thought that it would be +agreeable to you and my master, to have my testimony to the publick +security; and that you would sleep more quietly, when I told you, that +you are safe. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XLVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, April 5, 1781. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Of your injunctions, to pray for you, and write to you, +I hope to leave neither unobserved; and I hope to find you willing, in a +short time, to alleviate your trouble by some other exercise of the +mind. I am not without my part of the calamity. No death, since that of +my wife, has ever oppressed me like this. But let us remember, that we +are in the hands of him who knows when to give and when to take away; +who will look upon us, with mercy, through all our variations of +existence, and who invites us to call on him in the day of trouble. Call +upon him in this great revolution of life, and call with confidence. You +will then find comfort for the past, and support for the future. He that +has given you happiness in marriage, to a degree of which, without +personal knowledge, I should have thought the description fabulous, can +give you another mode of happiness as a mother, and, at last, the +happiness of losing all temporal cares, in the thoughts of an eternity +in heaven. + +I do not exhort you to reason yourself into tranquillity. We must first +pray, and then labour; first implore the blessing of God, and use those +means which he puts into our hands. Cultivated ground has few weeds; a +mind, occupied by lawful business, has little room for useless regret. + +We read the will to-day; but I will not fill my first letter with any +other account, than that, with all my zeal for your advantage, I am +satisfied; and, that the other executors, more used to consider property +than I, commended it for wisdom and equity. Yet, why should I not tell +you, that you have five hundred pounds for your immediate expenses, and +two thousand pounds a year, with both the houses, and all the goods. + +Let us pray for one another, that the time, whether long or short, that +shall yet be granted us, may be well spent; and, that, when this life, +which, at the longest, is very short, shall come to an end, a better may +begin, which shall never end. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +XLVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +April 7, 1781. + +DEAR MADAM,--I hope you begin to find your mind grow clearer. My part of +the loss hangs upon me. I have lost a friend of boundless kindness, at +an age when it is very unlikely that I should find another. + +If you think change of place likely to relieve you, there is no reason +why you should not go to Bath; the distances are unequal, but with +regard to practice and business they are the same. It is a day's journey +from either place; and the post is more expeditious and certain to Bath. +Consult only your own inclination, for there is really no other +principle of choice. God direct and bless you. + +Mr. C--has offered Mr. P--money, but it was not wanted. I hope we shall +all do all we can to make you less unhappy, and you must do all you can +for yourself. What we, or what you can do, will, for a time, be but +little; yet, certainly, that calamity which may be considered as doomed +to fall inevitably on half mankind, is not finally without alleviation. + +It is something for me, that, as I have not the decrepitude, I have not +the callousness of old age. I hope, in time, to be less affected. I am, +&c. + + +XLVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, April 9, 1781. + +DEAR MADAM,--That you are gradually recovering your tranquillity is the +effect to be humbly expected from trust in God. Do not represent life as +darker than it is. Your loss has been very great, but you retain more +than almost any other can hope to possess. You are high in the opinion +of mankind; you have children, from whom much pleasure may be expected; +and that you will find many friends you have no reason to doubt. Of my +friendship, be it worth more or less, I hope you think yourself certain, +without much art or care. It will not be easy for me to repay the +benefits that I have received; but I hope to be always ready at your +call. Our sorrow has different effects; you are withdrawn into solitude, +and I am driven into company. I am afraid of thinking what I have lost. +I never had such a friend before. Let me have your prayers and those of +my dear Queeney. + +The prudence and resolution of your design to return so soon to your +business and your duty, deserves great praise; I shall communicate it, +on Wednesday, to the other executors. Be pleased to let me know, whether +you would have me come to Streatham to receive you, or stay here till +the next day. I am, &c. + + +XLIX.--To THE SAME. + +Bolt court, Fleet street, June 19, 1783. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sitting down, in no cheerful solitude, to write a +narrative, which would once have affected you with tenderness and +sorrow, but which you will, perhaps, pass over now with a careless +glance of frigid indifference. For this diminution of regard, however, I +know not whether I ought to blame you, who may have reasons which I +cannot know; and I do not blame myself, who have, for a great part of +human life, done you what good I could, and have never done you evil. + +I have been disordered in the usual way, and had been relieved, by the +usual methods, by opium and catharticks, but had rather lessened my dose +of opium. + +On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture, and walked a considerable +way, with little inconvenience. In the afternoon and evening, I felt +myself light and easy, and began to plan schemes of life. Thus I went to +bed, and, in a short time, waked and sat up, as has been long my custom, +when I felt a confusion and indistinctness in my head, which lasted, I +suppose, about half a minute; I was alarmed, and prayed God, that, +however he might afflict my body, he would spare my understanding. This +prayer, that I might try the integrity of my faculties, I made in Latin +verse. The lines were not very good, but I knew them not to be very +good: I made them easily, and concluded myself to be unimpaired in my +faculties. + +Soon after, I perceived that I had suffered a paralytick stroke, and +that my speech was taken from me. I had no pain, and so little +dejection, in this dreadful state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and +considered that, perhaps, death itself, when it should come, would +excite less horrour than seems now to attend it. + +In order to rouse the vocal organs, I took two drams. Wine has been +celebrated for the production of eloquence. I put myself into violent +motion, and, I think, repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed, +and, strange as it may seem, I think, slept. When I saw light, it was +time to contrive what I should do. Though God stopped my speech, he left +me my hand: I enjoyed a mercy, which was not granted to my dear friend +Lawrence, who now, perhaps, overlooks me, as I am writing, and rejoices +that I have what he wanted. My first note was, necessarily, to my +servant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend, why +he should read what I put into his hands. + +I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have a discreet friend at +hand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note, I had +some difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. I +then wrote to Dr. Taylor, to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden, and I +sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are very +friendly and very disinterested, and give me great hopes, but you may +imagine my situation. I have so far recovered my vocal powers, as to +repeat the Lord's prayer, with no very imperfect articulation. My +memory, I hope, yet remains as it was; but such an attack produces +solicitude for the safety of every faculty. + +How this will be received by you, I know not. I hope you will sympathize +with me; but, perhaps, + + "My mistress, gracious, mild, and good, + Cries: Is he dumb? 'Tis time he shou'd." + +But can this be possible? I hope it cannot. I hope that what, when I +could speak, I spoke of you, and to you, will be, in a sober and serious +hour, remembered by you; and, surely, it cannot be remembered but with +some degree of kindness. I have loved you with virtuous affection; I +have honoured you with sincere esteem. Let not all our endearments be +forgotten, but let me have, in this great distress, your pity and your +prayers. You see, I yet turn to you with my complaints, as a settled and +unalienable friend; do not, do not drive me from you, for I have not +deserved either neglect or hatred. + +To the girls, who do not write often, for Susy has written only once, +and Miss Thrale owes me a letter, I earnestly recommend, as their +guardian and friend, that they remember their creator in the days of +their youth. + +I suppose, you may wish to know, how my disease is treated by the +physicians. They put a blister upon my back, and two from my ear to my +throat, one on a side. The blister on the back has done little, and +those on the throat have not risen. I bullied and bounced, (it sticks to +our last sand,) and compelled the apothecary to make his salve according +to the Edinburgh dispensatory, that it might adhere better. I have two +on now of my own prescription. They, likewise, give me salt of +hartshorn, which I take with no great confidence, but I am satisfied +that what can be done, is done for me. + +O God! give me comfort and confidence in thee; forgive my sins; and, if +it be thy good pleasure, relieve my diseases, for Jesus Christ's sake. +Amen. + +I am almost ashamed of this querulous letter; but now it is written, let +it go. I am, &c. + + +L.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAR MADAM,--Among those that have inquired after me, sir Philip is one; +and Dr. Burney was one of those who came to see me. I have had no reason +to complain of indifference or neglect. Dick Burney is come home five +inches taller. + +Yesterday, in the evening, I went to church, and have been to-day to see +the great burning-glass, which does more than was ever done before, by +the transmission of the rays, but is not equal in power to those which +reflect them. It wastes a diamond placed in the focus, but causes no +diminution of pure gold. Of the rubies, exposed to its action, one was +made more vivid, the other paler. To see the glass, I climbed up stairs +to the garret, and then up a ladder to the leads, and talked to the +artist rather too long; for my voice, though clear and distinct for a +little while, soon tires and falters. The organs of speech are yet very +feeble, but will, I hope, be, by the mercy of God, finally restored: at +present, like any other weak limb, they can endure but little labour at +once. Would you not have been very sorry for me, when I could scarcely +speak? + +Fresh cantharides were this morning applied to my head, and are to be +continued some time longer. If they play me no treacherous tricks, they +give me very little pain. + +Let me have your kindness and your prayers; and think on me, as on a +man, who, for a very great portion of your life has done you all the +good he could, and desires still to be considered, madam, your, &c. + + +LI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, July 1, 1783. + +DEAREST MADAM,--This morning I took the air by a ride to Hampstead, and +this afternoon I dined with the club. But fresh cantharides were this +day applied to my head. + +Mr. Cator called on me to-day, and told me, that he had invited you back +to Streatham. I showed the unfitness of your return thither, till the +neighbourhood should have lost its habits of depredation, and he seemed +to be satisfied. He invited me, very kindly and cordially, to try the +air of Beckenham; and pleased me very much by his affectionate attention +to Miss Vesy. There is much good in his character, and much usefulness +in his knowledge. + +Queeney seems now to have forgotten me. Of the different appearance of +the hills and valleys an account may, perhaps, be given, without the +supposition of any prodigy! If she had been out, and the evening was +breezy, the exhalations would rise from the low grounds very copiously; +and the wind that swept and cleared the hills, would only, by its cold, +condense the vapours of the sheltered valleys. + +Murphy is just gone from me; he visits me very kindly, and I have no +unkindness to complain of. + +I am sorry that sir Philip's request was not treated with more respect, +nor can I imagine what has put them so much out of humour; I hope their +business is prosperous. + +I hope that I recover by degrees, but my nights are restless; and you +will suppose the nervous system to be somewhat enfeebled. I am, madam, +your, &c. + + +LII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, October 9, 1783. + +Two nights ago, Mr. Burke sat with me a long time; he seems much pleased +with his journey. We had both seen Stonehenge this summer, for the first +time. I told him that the view had enabled me to confute two opinions +which have been advanced about it. One, that the materials are not +natural stones, but an artificial composition, hardened by time. This +notion is as old as Camden's time; and has this strong argument to +support it, that stone of that species is nowhere to be found. The other +opinion, advanced by Dr. Charlton, is, that it was erected by the Danes. + +Mr. Bowles made me observe, that the transverse stones were fixed on the +perpendicular supporters by a knob, formed on the top of the upright +stone, which entered into a hollow, cut in the crossing stone. This is a +proof, that the enormous edifice was raised by a people who had not yet +the knowledge of mortar; which cannot be supposed of the Danes, who came +hither in ships, and were not ignorant, certainly, of the arts of life. +This proves, likewise, the stones not to be factitious; for they that +could mould such durable masses, could do much more than make mortar, +and could have continued the transverse from the upright part with the +same paste. + +You have, doubtless, seen Stonehenge; and if you have not, I should +think it a hard task to make an adequate description. + +It is, in my opinion, to be referred to the earliest habitation of the +island, as a druidical monument of, at least, two thousand years; +probably the most ancient work of man, upon the island. Salisbury +cathedral, and its neighbour Stonehenge, are two eminent monuments of +art and rudeness, and may show the first essay, and the last perfection +in architecture. + +I have not yet settled my thoughts about the generation of light air, +which I, indeed, once saw produced, but I was at the height of my great +complaint. I have made inquiry, and shall soon be able to tell you how +to fill a balloon. I am, madam, your, &c. + + +LIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, Dec. 27, 1783. + +DEAR MADAM,--The wearisome solitude of the long evenings did, indeed, +suggest to me the convenience of a club in my neighbourhood, but I have +been hindered from attending it by want of breath. If I can complete the +scheme, you shall have the names and the regulations. + +The time of the year, for I hope the fault is rather in the weather than +in me, has been very hard upon me. The muscles of my breast are much +convulsed. Dr. Heberden recommends opiates, of which I have such +horrour, that I do not think of them but _in extremis_. I was, however, +driven to them, last night, for refuge, and, having taken the usual +quantity, durst not go to bed, for fear of that uneasiness to which a +supine posture exposes me, but rested all night in a chair, with much +relief, and have been, to-day, more warm, active, and cheerful. + +You have more than once wondered at my complaint of solitude, when you +hear that I am crowded with visits. "Inopem me copia fecit." Visitors +are no proper companions in the chamber of sickness. They come, when I +could sleep or read, they stay till I am weary, they force me to attend, +when my mind calls for relaxation, and to speak, when my powers will +hardly actuate my tongue. The amusements and consolations of languor and +depression are conferred by familiar and domestick companions, which can +be visited or called at will, and can, occasionally, be quitted or +dismissed, who do not obstruct accommodation by ceremony, or destroy +indolence by awakening effort. + +Such society I had with Levet and Williams; such I had where--I am never +likely to have it more. + +I wish, dear lady, to you and my dear girls, many a cheerful and pious +Christmas. I am, your, &c. + + +LIV.--To MRS. Piozzi. + +London, July 8, 1784. + +DEAR MADAM,--What you have done, however I may lament it, I have no +pretence to resent, as it has not been injurious to me; I, therefore, +breathe out one sigh more of tenderness, perhaps useless, but at least +sincere. + +I wish that God may grant you every blessing, that you may be happy in +this world, for its short continuance, and eternally happy in a better +state; and whatever I can contribute to your happiness, I am very ready +to repay, for that kindness which soothed twenty years of a life +radically wretched. + +Do not think slightly of the advice which I now presume to offer. +Prevail upon Mr. Piozzi to settle in England; you may live here with +more dignity than in Italy, and with more security; your rank will be +higher, and your fortune more under your own eye. I desire not to detail +all my reasons; but every argument of prudence and interest is for +England, and only some phantoms of imagination seduce you to Italy. + +I am afraid, however, that my counsel is vain, yet I have eased my heart +by giving it. + +When queen Mary took the resolution of sheltering herself in England, +the archbishop of St. Andrew's, attempting to dissuade her, attended on +her journey; and when they came to the irremeable stream, that separated +the two kingdoms, walked by her side into the water, in the middle of +which he seized her bridle, and with earnestness, proportioned to her +danger and his own affection, pressed her to return. The queen went +forward.--If the parallel reaches thus far, may it go no farther.--The +tears stand in my eyes. + +I am going into Derbyshire, and hope to be followed by your good wishes, +for I am, with great affection, your, &c. + +END OF VOL. I. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and +Tales, Volume 1, by Samuel Johnson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHNSON'S WORKS, V1 *** + +***** This file should be named 10835-8.txt or 10835-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/8/3/10835/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/10835-8.zip b/old/10835-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3bfcc3c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10835-8.zip diff --git a/old/10835.txt b/old/10835.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..45b7ec7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10835.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18570 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and +Tales, Volume 1, by Samuel Johnson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales, Volume 1 + The Works Of Samuel Johnson, Ll.D., In Nine Volumes + +Author: Samuel Johnson + +Release Date: January 25, 2004 [EBook #10835] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHNSON'S WORKS, V1 *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +DR. JOHNSON'S WORKS. + +LIFE, POEMS, AND TALES. + +THE + +WORKS + +OF + +SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + +IN NINE VOLUMES. + +VOLUME THE FIRST. + +MDCCCXXV + + +ADVERTISEMENT. + +It may be asserted, without a partial panegyric of the object of our +praise, that the works of no single author in the wide range of British +literature, not excepting, perhaps, even Addison, contain a richer and +more varied fund of rational entertainment and sound instruction than +those of Dr. Johnson. A correct edition of his works must, therefore, be +an acceptable contribution to the mass of national literature. That the +present edition has, perhaps, fairer claims on public approbation than +most preceding ones, we feel ourselves justified in asserting, without +envious detraction of those who have gone before us. It has been our +wish and diligent endeavour to give as accurate a text as possible, to +which we have subjoined notes, where elucidation seemed to be required. +They have been collected with care, and will prove our impartiality by +their occasional censures of the faults and failings of the writer whose +works it is our office to illustrate, and our more common and more +grateful task to praise. Though, being diffused over a wide space, they +appear less numerous than they really are, it has been our incessant +care to abstain from that method of redundant annotation, which tends to +display the ingenuity or mental resources of an editor, much more than +to illustrate the original writer. Notes have been chiefly introduced +for the purpose of guarding our readers against some political sophisms, +or to correct some hasty error. But happily, in the writings to which we +have devoted our time and attention, the chaff and dross lie so open to +view, and are so easily separated from purer matter, that a hint is +sufficient to protect the most incautious from harm. Accordingly, in our +notes and prefaces we have confined ourselves to simple and succinct +histories of the respective works under consideration, and have avoided, +as much as might be, a burdensome repetition of criticisms or anecdotes, +in almost every person's possession, or an idle pointing out of beauties +which none could fail to recognise. The length of time that has elapsed +since the writings of Johnson were first published, has amply developed +their intrinsic merits, and destroyed the personal and party prejudices +which assail a living author: but the years have been too few to render +the customs and manners alluded to so obsolete as to require much +illustrative research.[a] It may be satisfactory to subjoin, that care +has been exercised in every thing that we have advanced, and that when +we have erred, it has been on the side of caution. + +All the usually received works of Dr. Johnson, together with Murphy's +Essay on his Life and Genius, are comprised in this edition. In +pursuance of our plan of brevity, we shall not here give a list of his +minor and unacknowledged productions, but refer our readers to Boswell; +a new, amended, and enlarged edition of whose interesting and +picturesque Memoirs we purpose speedily to present to the public, after +the style and manner of the present work. + +One very important addition, however, we conceive that we have made, in +publishing the whole of his sermons. It has been hitherto the practice +to give one or two, with a cursory notice, that Johnson's theological +knowledge was scanty, or unworthy of his general fame. We have acted +under a very different impression; for though Johnson was not, nor +pretended to be, a polemical or controversial divine, he well knew how +to apply to the right regulation of our moral conduct the lessons of +that Christianity which was not promulged for a sect, but for mankind; +which sought not a distinctive garb in the philosopher's grove, nor +secluded itself in the hermit's cell, but entered without reserve every +walk of life, and sympathized with all the instinctive feelings of our +common nature. This high privilege of our religion Johnson felt, and to +the diffusion of its practical, not of its theoretical advantages, he +applied the energies of his heart and mind; and with what success, we +leave to every candid reader to pronounce. + +In conclusion, we would express a hope that we shall not inaptly +commence a series of OXFORD ENGLISH CLASSICS with the works of one whose +writings have so enlarged and embellished the science of moral evidence, +which has long constituted a characteristic feature in the literary +discipline of this university. The science of mind and its progress, as +recorded by history, or unfolded by biography, was Johnson's favourite +study, and is still the main object of pursuit in the place whose system +and institutions he so warmly praised, and to which he ever professed +himself so deeply indebted. If the terseness of attic simplicity has +been desiderated by some in the pages of Johnson, they undeniably +display the depth of thought, the weight of argument, the insight into +mind and morals, which are to be found in their native dignity only in +the compositions of those older writers with whose spirit he was so +richly imbued. In this place, then, where those models which Johnson +admired and imitated are still upheld as the only sure guides to sound +learning, his writings can never be laid aside unread and neglected. + +OXFORD, JUNE 23, 1825. + +[a] See a remark on this subject made by Johnson, with reference to the +Spectator, and all other works of the same class, which describe +manners. Boswell, ii. 218, and Prefatory Notice to Rambler, vol. i. + + + + +CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. + +ESSAY on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson + +POEMS. + +London + +The Vanity of Human Wishes + +Prologue, spoken by Mr. Garrick, at the opening of the theatre-royal, +Drury lane + +Prefatory Notice to the tragedy of Irene + +Prologue + +Irene + +Epilogue, by sir William Yonge + +Prologue to the masque of Comus + +Prologue to the comedy of the Good-natured Man + +Prologue to the comedy of a Word to the Wise + +Spring + +Midsummer + +Autumn + +Winter + +The Winter's Walk + +To Miss ****, on her giving the author a gold and silk network purse, of +her own weaving + +To Miss ****, on her playing upon the harpsichord, in a room hung with +flower-pieces of her own painting + +Evening; an ode + +To the same + +To a friend + +Stella in mourning + +To Stella + +Verses, written at the request of a gentleman, to whom a lady had given +a sprig of myrtle + +To lady Firebrace, at Bury assizes + +To Lyce, an elderly lady + +On the death of Mr. Robert Levet + +Epitaph on Claude Phillips + +Epitaphium in Thomam Hanmer, baronettum + +Paraphrase of the above, by Dr. Johnson + +To Miss Hickman, playing on the spinet + +Paraphrase of Proverbs, chap. vi. verses 6-11 + +Horace, lib. iv. ode vii. translated + +Anacreon, ode ix + +Lines written in ridicule of certain poems published in 1777 + +Parody of a translation from the Medea of Euripides + +Translation from the Medea of Euripides + +Translation of the two first stanzas of the song "Rio Verde, Rio Verde" + +Imitation of the style of **** + +Burlesque of some lines of Lopez de Vega + +Translation of some lines at the end of Baretti's Easy Phraseology + +Improviso translation of a distich on the duke of Modena's running away +from the comet in 1742 or 1743 + +Improviso translation of some lines of M. Benserade a son Lit + +Epitaph for Mr. Hogarth + +Translation of some lines, written under a print representing persons +skating + +Impromptu translation of the same + +To Mrs. Thrale, on her completing her thirty-fifth year + +Impromptu translation of an air in the Clemenza di Tito of Metastasio + +Translation of a speech of Aquileio in the Adriano of Metastasio + +Burlesque of the modern versifications of ancient legendary tales + +Friendship; an ode + +On seeing a bust of Mrs. Montague + +Improviso on a young heir's coming of age + +Epitaphs--on his father + + --his wife + + --Mrs. Bell + + --Mrs. Salusbury + + --Dr. Goldsmith + + --Mr. Thrale + +POEMATA + +Prefatory observations to the history of Rasselas + +Rasselas, prince of Abissinia + +LETTERS. + +I. To Mr. James Elphinston + +II. to XL. To Mrs. Thrale + +XLI. To Mr. Thrale + +XLII. to LIII. To Mrs. Thrale + +LIV. To Mrs. Piozzi + + + + +AN ESSAY +ON +THE LIFE AND GENIUS +OF +SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + +When the works of a great writer, who has bequeathed to posterity a +lasting legacy, are presented to the world, it is naturally expected +that some account of his life should accompany the edition. The reader +wishes to know as much as possible of the author. The circumstances that +attended him, the features of his private character, his conversation, +and the means by which he arose to eminence, become the favourite +objects of inquiry. Curiosity is excited; and the admirer of his works +is eager to know his private opinions, his course of study, the +particularities of his conduct, and, above all, whether he pursued the +wisdom which he recommends, and practised the virtue which his writings +inspire. A principle of gratitude is awakened in every generous mind. +For the entertainment and instruction which genius and diligence have +provided for the world, men of refined and sensible tempers are ready to +pay their tribute of praise, and even to form a posthumous friendship +with the author. + +In reviewing the life of such a writer, there is, besides, a rule of +justice to which the public have an undoubted claim. Fond admiration and +partial friendship should not be suffered to represent his virtues with +exaggeration; nor should malignity be allowed, under a specious +disguise, to magnify mere defects, the usual failings of human nature, +into vice or gross deformity. The lights and shades of the character +should be given; and if this be done with a strict regard to truth, a +just estimate of Dr. Johnson will afford a lesson, perhaps, as valuable +as the moral doctrine that speaks with energy in every page of his +works. + +The present writer enjoyed the conversation and friendship of that +excellent man more than thirty years. He thought it an honour to be so +connected, and to this hour he reflects on his loss with regret; but +regret, he knows, has secret bribes, by which the judgment may be +influenced, and partial affection may be carried beyond the bounds of +truth. In the present case, however, nothing needs to be disguised, and +exaggerated praise is unnecessary. It is an observation of the younger +Pliny, in his epistle to his friend Tacitus, that history ought never to +magnify matters of fact, because worthy actions require nothing but the +truth: "nam nec historia debet egredi veritatem, et honeste factis +veritas sufficit." This rule, the present biographer promises, shall +guide his pen throughout the following narrative. + +It may be said, the death of Dr. Johnson kept the public mind in +agitation beyond all former example. No literary character ever excited +so much attention; and, when the press has teemed with anecdotes, +apophthegms, essays, and publications of every kind, what occasion now +for a new tract on the same thread-bare subject? The plain truth shall +be the answer. The proprietors of Johnson's works thought the life, +which they prefixed to their former edition, too unwieldy for +republication. The prodigious variety of foreign matter, introduced into +that performance, seemed to overload the memory of Dr. Johnson, and, in +the account of his own life, to leave him hardly visible. They wished to +have a more concise, and, for that reason, perhaps, a more satisfactory +account, such as may exhibit a just picture of the man, and keep him the +principal figure in the foreground of his own picture. To comply with +that request is the design of this essay, which the writer undertakes +with a trembling hand. He has no discoveries, no secret anecdotes, no +occasional controversy, no sudden flashes of wit and humour, no private +conversation, and no new facts, to embellish his work. Every thing has +been gleaned. Dr. Johnson said of himself, "I am not uncandid, nor +severe: I sometimes say more than I mean, in jest, and people are apt to +think me serious[a]." The exercise of that privilege, which is enjoyed +by every man in society, has not been allowed to him. His fame has given +importance even to trifles; and the zeal of his friends has brought +every thing to light. What should be related, and what should not, has +been published without distinction: "dicenda tacenda locuti!" Every +thing that fell from him has been caught with eagerness by his admirers, +who, as he says in one of his letters, have acted with the diligence of +spies upon his conduct. To some of them the following lines, in Mallet's +poem on verbal criticism, are not inapplicable: + + "Such that grave bird in northern seas is found. + Whose name a Dutchman only knows to sound; + Where'er the king of fish moves on before, + This humble friend attends from shore to shore; + With eye still earnest, and with bill inclined, + He picks up what his patron drops behind, + With those choice cates his palate to regale, + And is the careful Tibbald of a whale." + +After so many essays and volumes of Johnsoniana, what remains for the +present writer? Perhaps, what has not been attempted; a short, yet full, +a faithful, yet temperate, history of Dr. Johnson. + +SAMUEL JOHNSON was born at Lichfield, September 7, 1709, O. S[b]. His +father, Michael Johnson, was a bookseller in that city; a man of large, +athletic make, and violent passions; wrong-headed, positive, and, at +times, afflicted with a degree of melancholy, little short of madness. +His mother was sister to Dr. Ford, a practising physician, and father of +Cornelius Ford, generally known by the name of parson Ford, the same who +is represented near the punch-bowl in Hogarth's Midnight Modern +Conversation. In the life of Fenton, Johnson says, that "his abilities, +instead of furnishing convivial merriment to the voluptuous and +dissolute, might have enabled him to excel among the virtuous and the +wise." Being chaplain to the earl of Chesterfield, he wished to attend +that nobleman on his embassy to the Hague. Colley Cibber has recorded +the anecdote. "You should go," said the witty peer, "if to your many +vices you would add one more." "Pray, my lord, what is that?" +"Hypocrisy, my dear doctor." Johnson had a younger brother named +Nathaniel, who died at the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Michael +Johnson, the father, was chosen, in the year 1718, under bailiff of +Lichfield; and, in the year 1725, he served the office of the senior +bailiff. He had a brother of the name of Andrew, who, for some years, +kept the ring at Smithfield, appropriated to wrestlers and boxers. Our +author used to say, that he was never thrown or conquered. Michael, the +father, died December 1731, at the age of seventy-six: his mother at +eighty-nine, of a gradual decay, in the year 1759. Of the family nothing +more can be related worthy of notice. Johnson did not delight in talking +of his relations. "There is little pleasure," he said to Mrs. Piozzi, +"in relating the anecdotes of beggary." + +Johnson derived from his parents, or from an unwholesome nurse, the +distemper called the king's evil. The Jacobites at that time believed in +the efficacy of the royal touch, and, accordingly, Mrs. Johnson +presented her son, when two years old, before queen Anne, who, for the +first time, performed that office, and communicated to her young patient +all the healing virtue in her power[c]. He was afterwards cut for that +scrophulous humour, and the under part of his face was seamed and +disfigured by the operation. It is supposed, that this disease deprived +him of the sight of his left eye, and also impaired his hearing. At +eight years old, he was placed under Mr. Hawkins, at the free school in +Lichfield, where he was not remarkable for diligence or regular +application. Whatever he read, his tenacious memory made his own. In the +fields, with his schoolfellows, he talked more to himself than with his +companions. In 1725, when he was about sixteen years old, he went on a +visit to his cousin Cornelius Ford, who detained him for some months, +and, in the mean time, assisted him in the classics. The general +direction for his studies, which he then received, he related to Mrs. +Piozzi. "Obtain," says Ford, "some general principles of every science: +he who can talk only on one subject, or act only in one department, is +seldom wanted, and, perhaps, never wished for; while the man of general +knowledge can often benefit, and always please." This advice Johnson +seems to have pursued with a good inclination. His reading was always +desultory, seldom resting on any particular author, but rambling from +one book to another, and, by hasty snatches, hoarding up a variety of +knowledge. It may be proper, in this place, to mention another general +rule laid down by Ford for Johnson's future conduct: "You will make your +way the more easily in the world, as you are contented to dispute no +man's claim to conversation excellence: they will, therefore, more +willingly allow your pretensions as a writer." "But," says Mrs. Piozzi, +"the features of peculiarity, which mark a character to all succeeding +generations, are slow in coming to their growth." That ingenious lady +adds, with her usual vivacity, "Can one, on such an occasion, forbear +recollecting the predictions of Boileau's father, who said, stroking the +head of the young satirist, 'This little man has too much wit, but he +will never speak ill of any one.'" + +On Johnson's return from Cornelius Ford, Mr. Hunter, then master of the +free school at Lichfield, refused to receive him again on that +foundation. At this distance of time, what his reasons were, it is vain +to inquire; but to refuse assistance to a lad of promising genius must +be pronounced harsh and illiberal. It did not, however, stop the +progress of the young student's education. He was placed at another +school, at Stourbridge in Worcestershire, under the care of Mr. +Wentworth. Having gone through the rudiments of classic literature, he +returned to his father's house, and was probably intended for the trade +of a bookseller. He has been heard to say that he could bind a book. At +the end of two years, being then about nineteen, he went to assist the +studies of a young gentleman, of the name of Corbet, to the university +of Oxford; and on the 31st of October, 1728, both were entered of +Pembroke college; Corbet as a gentleman-commoner, and Johnson as a +commoner. The college tutor, Mr. Jordan, was a man of no genius; and +Johnson, it seems, shewed an early contempt of mean abilities, in one or +two instances behaving with insolence to that gentleman. Of his general +conduct at the university there are no particulars that merit attention, +except the translation of Pope's Messiah, which was a college exercise +imposed upon him as a task by Mr. Jordan. Corbet left the university in +about two years, and Johnson's salary ceased. He was, by consequence, +straitened in his circumstances; but he still remained at college. Mr. +Jordan, the tutor, went off to a living; and was succeeded by Dr. Adams, +who afterwards became head of the college, and was esteemed through life +for his learning, his talents, and his amiable character. Johnson grew +more regular in his attendance. Ethics, theology, and classic +literature, were his favourite studies. He discovered, notwithstanding, +early symptoms of that wandering disposition of mind, which adhered to +him to the end of his life. His reading was by fits and starts, +undirected to any particular science. General philology, agreeably to +his cousin Ford's advice, was the object of his ambition. He received, +at that time, an early impression of piety, and a taste for the best +authors, ancient and modern. It may, notwithstanding, be questioned +whether, except his bible, he ever read a book entirely through. Late in +life, if any man praised a book in his presence, he was sure to ask, +"Did you read it through?" If the answer was in the affirmative, he did +not seem willing to believe it. He continued at the university, till the +want of pecuniary supplies obliged him to quit the place. He obtained, +however, the assistance of a friend, and, returning in a short time, was +able to complete a residence of three years. The history of his exploits +at Oxford, he used to say, was best known to Dr. Taylor and Dr. Adams. +Wonders are told of his memory, and, indeed, all who knew him late in +life can witness, that he retained that faculty in the greatest vigour. + +From the university, Johnson returned to Lichfield. His father died soon +after, December, 1731; and the whole receipt out of his effects, as +appeared by a memorandum in the son's handwriting, dated 15th of June, +1732, was no more than twenty pounds[d]. In this exigence, determined +that poverty should neither depress his spirits nor warp his integrity, +he became under-master of a grammar school at Market Bosworth, in +Leicestershire. That resource, however, did not last long. Disgusted by +the pride of sir Wolstan Dixie, the patron of that little seminary, he +left the place in discontent, and ever after spoke of it with +abhorrence. In 1733, he went on a visit to Mr. Hector, who had been his +schoolfellow, and was then a surgeon at Birmingham, lodging at the house +of Warren, a bookseller. At that place Johnson translated a Voyage to +Abyssinia, written by Jerome Lobo, a Portuguese missionary. This was the +first literary work from the pen of Dr. Johnson. His friend, Hector, was +occasionally his amanuensis. The work was, probably, undertaken at the +desire of Warren, the bookseller, and was printed at Birmingham; but it +appears, in the Literary Magazine, or history of the works of the +learned, for March, 1735, that it was published by Bettesworth and +Hitch, Paternoster row. It contains a narrative of the endeavours of a +company of missionaries to convert the people of Abyssinia to the church +of Rome. In the preface to this work, Johnson observes, "that the +Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general view of his countrymen, +has amused his readers with no romantick absurdities, or incredible +fictions. He appears, by his modest and unaffected narration, to have +described things, as he saw them; to have copied nature from the life; +and to have consulted his senses, not his imagination. He meets with no +basilisks, that destroy with their eyes; his crocodiles devour their +prey, without tears; and his cataracts fall from the rock, without +deafening the neighbouring inhabitants. The reader will here find no +regions cursed with irremediable barrenness, or blessed with spontaneous +fecundity; no perpetual gloom, or unceasing sunshine; nor are the +nations, here described, either void of all sense of humanity, or +consummate in all private and social virtues; here are no Hottentots +without religion, polity or articulate language; no Chinese perfectly +polite, and completely skilled in all sciences; he will discover, what +will always be discovered by a diligent and impartial inquirer, that, +wherever human nature is to be found, there is a mixture of vice and +virtue, a contest of passion and reason; and that the Creator doth not +appear partial in his distributions, but has balanced, in most +countries, their particular inconveniencies, by particular favours."--We +have here an early specimen of Johnson's manner; the vein of thinking, +and the frame of the sentences, are manifestly his: we see the infant +Hercules. The translation of Lobo's narrative has been reprinted lately +in a separate volume, with some other tracts of Dr. Johnson's, and, +therefore, forms no part of this edition; but a compendious account of +so interesting a work, as father Lobo's discovery of the head of the +Nile, will not, it is imagined, be unacceptable to the reader. + +"Father Lobo, the Portuguese missionary, embarked, in 1622, in the same +fleet with the count Vidigueira, who was appointed, by the king of +Portugal, viceroy of the Indies. They arrived at Goa; and, in January +1624, father Lobo set out on the mission to Abyssinia. Two of the +Jesuits, sent on the same commission, were murdered in their attempt to +penetrate into that empire. Lobo had better success; he surmounted all +difficulties, and made his way into the heart of the country. Then +follows a description of Abyssinia, formerly the largest empire of which +we have an account in history. It extended from the Red sea to the +kingdom of Congo, and from Egypt to the Indian sea, containing no less +than forty provinces. At the time of Lobo's mission, it was not much +larger than Spain, consisting then but of five kingdoms, of which part +was entirely subject to the emperour, and part paid him a tribute, as an +acknowledgment. The provinces were inhabited by Moors, Pagans, Jews, and +Christians. The last was, in Lobo's time, the established and reigning +religion. The diversity of people and religion is the reason why the +kingdom was under different forms of government, with laws and customs +extremely various. Some of the people neither sowed their lands, nor +improved them by any kind of culture, living upon milk and flesh, and, +like the Arabs, encamping without any settled habitation. In some places +they practised no rites of worship, though they believed that, in the +regions above, there dwells a being that governs the world. This deity +they call, in their language, Oul. The christianity, professed by the +people in some parts, is so corrupted with superstitions, errours, and +heresies, and so mingled with ceremonies borrowed from the Jews, that +little, besides the name of christianity, is to be found among them. The +Abyssins cannot properly be said to have either cities or houses; they +live in tents or cottages made of straw or clay, very rarely building +with stone. Their villages, or towns, consist of these huts; yet even of +such villages they have but few, because the grandees, the viceroys, and +the emperour himself, are always in camp, that they may be prepared, +upon the most sudden alarm, to meet every emergence in a country, which +is engaged, every year, either in foreign wars or intestine commotions. +Aethiopia produces very near the same kinds of provision as Portugal, +though, by the extreme laziness of the inhabitants, in a much less +quantity. What the ancients imagined of the torrid zone being a part of +the world uninhabitable, is so far from being true, that the climate is +very temperate. The blacks have better features than in other countries, +and are not without wit and ingenuity. Their apprehension is quick, and +their judgment sound. There are, in this climate, two harvests in the +year; one in winter, which lasts through the months of July, August, and +September; the other in the spring. They have, in the greatest plenty, +raisins peaches pomegranates, sugar-canes, and some figs. Most of these +are ripe about lent, which the Abyssins keep with great strictness. The +animals of the country are the lion, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the +unicorn, horses, mules, oxen, and cows without number. They have a very +particular custom, which obliges every man, that has a thousand cows, to +save every year one day's milk of all his herd, and make a bath with it +for his relations. This they do so many days in each year, as they have +thousands of cattle; so that, to express how rich a man is, they tell +you, 'he bathes so many times.' + +"Of the river Nile, which has furnished so much controversy, we have a +full and clear description. It is called, by the natives, Abavi, the +Father of Water. It rises in Sacala, a province of the kingdom of +Goiama, the most fertile and agreeable part of the Abyssinian dominions. +On the eastern side of the country, on the declivity of a mountain, +whose descent is so easy, that it seems a beautiful plain, is that +source of the Nile, which has been sought after, at so much expense and +labour. This spring, or rather these two springs, are two holes, each +about two feet diameter, a stone's cast distant from each other. One of +them is about five feet and a half in depth. Lobo was not able to sink +his plummet lower, perhaps, because it was stopped by roots, the whole +place being full of trees. A line of ten feet did not reach the bottom +of the other. These springs are supposed, by the Abyssins, to be the +vents of a great subterraneous lake. At a small distance to the south, +is a village called Guix, through which you ascend to the top of the +mountain, where there is a little hill, which the idolatrous Agaci hold +in great veneration. Their priest calls them together to this place once +a year; and every one sacrifices a cow, or more, according to the +different degrees of wealth and devotion. Hence we have sufficient +proof, that these nations always paid adoration to the deity of this +famous river. + +"As to the course of the Nile, its waters, after their first rise, run +towards the east, about the length of a musket-shot; then, turning +northward, continue hidden in the grass and weeds for about a quarter of +a league, when they reappear amongst a quantity of rocks. The Nile, from +its source, proceeds with so inconsiderable a current that it is in +danger of being dried up by the hot season; but soon receiving an +increase from the Gemma, the Keltu, the Bransa, and the other smaller +rivers, it expands to such a breadth in the plains of Boad, which is not +above three days' journey from its source, that a musket-ball will +scarcely fly from one bank to the other. Here it begins to run +northward, winding, however, a little to the east, for the space of nine +or ten leagues, and then enters the so-much-talked-of lake of Dambia, +flowing with such violent rapidity, that its waters may be distinguished +through the whole passage, which is no less than six leagues. Here +begins the greatness of the Nile. Fifteen miles farther, in the land of +Alata, it rushes precipitately from the top of a high rock, and forms +one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the world. Lobo says, he passed +under it without being wet, and resting himself, for the sake of the +coolness, was charmed with a thousand delightful rainbows, which the +sunbeams painted on the water, in all their shining and lively +colours[e]. The fall of this mighty stream, from so great a height, +makes a noise that may be heard at a considerable distance: but it was +not found, that the neighbouring inhabitants were deaf. After the +cataract, the Nile collects its scattered stream among the rocks, which +are so near each other, that, in Lobo's time, a bridge of beams, on +which the whole imperial army passed, was laid over them. Sultan Sequed +has since built a stone bridge of one arch, in the same place, for which +purpose he procured masons from India. Here the river alters its course, +and passes through various kingdoms, such as Amhara, Olaca, Choaa, +Damot, and the kingdom of Goiama, and, after various windings, returns +within a short day's journey of its spring. To pursue it through all its +mazes, and accompany it round the kingdom of Goiama, is a journey of +twenty-nine days. From Abyssinia, the river passes into the countries of +Fazulo and Ombarca, two vast regions little known, inhabited by nations +entirely different from the Abyssins. Their hair, like that of the other +blacks in those regions, is short and curled. In the year 1615, Rassela +Christos, lieutenant-general to sultan Sequed, entered those kingdoms in +a hostile manner; but, not being able to get intelligence, returned +without attempting any thing. As the empire of Abyssinia terminates at +these descents, Lobo followed the course of the Nile no farther, leaving +it to rage over barbarous kingdoms, and convey wealth and plenty into +Aegypt, which owes to the annual inundations of this river its envied +fertility[f]. Lobo knows nothing of the Nile in the rest of its passage, +except that it receives great increase from many other rivers, has +several cataracts like that already described, and that few fish are to +be found in it: that scarcity is to be attributed to the river-horse, +and the crocodile, which destroy the weaker inhabitants of the river. +Something, likewise, must be imputed to the cataracts, where fish cannot +fall without being killed. Lobo adds, that neither he, nor any with whom +he conversed about the crocodile, ever saw him weep; and, therefore, all +that hath been said about his tears, must be ranked among the fables, +invented for the amusement of children. + +"As to the causes of the inundations of the Nile, Lobo observes, that +many an idle hypothesis has been framed. Some theorists ascribe it to +the high winds, that stop the current, and force the water above its +banks. Others pretend a subterraneous communication between the ocean +and the Nile, and that the sea, when violently agitated, swells the +river. Many are of opinion, that this mighty flood proceeds from the +melting of the snow on the mountains of Aethiopia; but so much snow and +such prodigious heat are never met with in the same region. Lobo never +saw snow in Abyssinia, except on mount Semen, in the kingdom of Tigre, +very remote from the Nile; and on Namara, which is, indeed, nor far +distant, but where there never falls snow enough to wet, when dissolved, +the foot of the mountain. To the immense labours of the Portuguese +mankind is indebted for the knowledge of the real cause of these +inundations, so great and so regular. By them we are informed, that +Abyssinia, where the Nile rises, is full of mountains, and, in its +natural situation, is much higher than Aegypt; that in the winter, from +June to September, no day is without rain; that the Nile receives in its +course, all the rivers, brooks, and torrents, that fall from those +mountains, and, by necessary consequence, swelling above its banks, +fills the plains of Aegypt with inundations, which come regularly about +the month of July, or three weeks after the beginning of the rainy +season in Aethiopia. The different degrees of this flood are such +certain indications of the fruitfulness or sterility of the ensuing +year, that it is publickly proclaimed at Cairo how much the water hath +gained during the night." + +Such is the account of the Nile and its inundations, which, it is hoped, +will not be deemed an improper or tedious digression, especially as the +whole is an extract from Johnson's translation. He is, all the time, the +actor in the scene, and, in his own words, relates the story. Having +finished this work, he returned in February, 1734, to his native city; +and, in the month of August following, published proposals for printing, +by subscription, the Latin poems of Politian, with the history of Latin +poetry, from the aera of Petrarch to the time of Politian; and also the +life of Politian, to be added by the editor, Samuel Johnson. The book to +be printed in thirty octavo sheets, price five shillings. It is to be +regretted that this project failed for want of encouragement. Johnson, +it seems, differed from Boileau, Voltaire, and D'Alembert, who had taken +upon them to proscribe all modern efforts to write with elegance in a +dead language. For a decision pronounced in so high a tone, no good +reason can be assigned. The interests of learning require, that the +diction of Greece and Rome should be cultivated with care; and he who +can write a language with correctness, will be most likely to understand +its idiom, its grammar, and its peculiar graces of style. What man of +taste would willingly forego the pleasure of reading Vida, Fracastorius, +Sannazaro, Strada, and others, down to the late elegant productions of +bishop Lowth? The history which Johnson proposed to himself would, +beyond all question, have been a valuable addition to the history of +letters; but his project failed. His next expedient was to offer his +assistance to Cave, the original projector of the Gentleman's Magazine. +For this purpose he sent his proposals in a letter, offering, on +reasonable terms, occasionally to fill some pages with poems and +inscriptions, never printed before; with fugitive pieces that deserved +to be revived, and critical remarks on authors, ancient and modern. Cave +agreed to retain him as a correspondent and contributor to the magazine. +What the conditions were cannot now be known; but, certainly, they were +not sufficient to hinder Johnson from casting his eyes about him in +quest of other employment. Accordingly, in 1735, he made overtures to +the reverend Mr. Budworth, master of a grammar school at Brerewood, in +Staffordshire, to become his assistant. This proposition did not +succeed. Mr. Budworth apprehended, that the involuntary motions, to +which Johnson's nerves were subject, might make him an object of +ridicule with his scholars, and, by consequence, lessen their respect +for their master. Another mode of advancing himself presented itself +about this time. Mrs. Porter, the widow of a mercer in Birmingham, +admired his talents. It is said, that she had about eight hundred +pounds; and that sum, to a person in Johnson's circumstances, was an +affluent fortune. A marriage took place; and, to turn his wife's money +to the best advantage, he projected the scheme of an academy for +education. Gilbert Walmsley, at that time, registrar of the +ecclesiastical court of the bishop of Lichfield, was distinguished by +his erudition, and the politeness of his manners. He was the friend of +Johnson, and, by his weight and influence, endeavoured to promote his +interest. The celebrated Garrick, whose father, captain Garrick, lived +at Lichfield, was placed in the new seminary of education by that +gentleman's advice.--Garrick was then about eighteen years old. An +accession of seven or eight pupils was the most that could be obtained, +though notice was given by a public advertisement[g], that at Edial, +near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young gentlemen are boarded and taught +the Latin and Greek languages, by Samuel Johnson. + +The undertaking proved abortive. Johnson, having now abandoned all hopes +of promoting his fortune in the country, determined to become an +adventurer in the world at large. His young pupil, Garrick, had formed +the same resolution; and, accordingly, in March, 1737, they arrived in +London together. Two such candidates for fame, perhaps never, before +that day, entered the metropolis together. Their stock of money was soon +exhausted. In his visionary project of an academy, Johnson had probably +wasted his wife's substance; and Garrick's father had little more than +his half-pay.--The two fellow-travellers had the world before them, and +each was to choose his road to fortune and to fame. They brought with +them genius, and powers of mind, peculiarly formed by nature for the +different vocations to which each of them felt himself inclined. They +acted from the impulse of young minds, even then meditating great +things, and with courage anticipating success. Their friend, Mr. +Walmsley, by a letter to the reverend Mr. Colson, who, it seems, was a +great mathematician, exerted his good offices in their favour. He gave +notice of their intended journey: "Davy Garrick," he said, "will be with +you next week; and Johnson, to try his fate with a tragedy, and to get +himself employed in some translation, either from the Latin or French. +Johnson is a very good scholar and a poet, and, I have great hopes, will +turn out a fine tragedy-writer. If it should be in your way, I doubt not +but you will be ready to recommend and assist your countrymen." Of Mr. +Walmsley's merit, and the excellence of his character, Johnson has left +a beautiful testimonial at the end of the life of Edmund Smith. It is +reasonable to conclude, that a mathematician, absorbed in abstract +speculations, was not able to find a sphere of action for two men, who +were to be the architects of their own fortune. In three or four years +afterwards, Garrick came forth with talents that astonished the public. +He began his career at Goodman's fields, and there, "monstratus fatis +Vespasianus!" he chose a lucrative profession, and, consequently, soon +emerged from all his difficulties. Johnson was left to toil in the +humble walks of literature. A tragedy, as appears by Walmsley's letter, +was the whole of his stock. This, most probably, was Irene; but, if then +finished, it was doomed to wait for a more happy period. It was offered +to Fleetwood, and rejected. Johnson looked round him for employment. +Having, while he remained in the country, corresponded with Cave, under +a feigned name, he now thought it time to make himself known to a man, +whom he considered as a patron of literature. Cave had announced, by +public advertisement, a prize of fifty pounds for the best poem on life, +death, judgment, heaven, and hell; and this circumstance diffused an +idea of his liberality. Johnson became connected with him in business, +and in a close and intimate acquaintance. Of Cave's character it is +unnecessary to say any thing in this place, as Johnson was afterwards +the biographer of his first and most useful patron. To be engaged in the +translation of some important book was still the object which Johnson +had in view. For this purpose, he proposed to give the history of the +council of Trent, with copious notes, then lately added to a French +edition. Twelve sheets of this work were printed, for which Johnson +received forty-nine pounds, as appears by his receipt, in the +possession of Mr. Nichols, the compiler of that entertaining and useful +work, The Gentleman's Magazine. Johnson's translation was never +completed: a like design was offered to the public, under the patronage +of Dr. Zachary Pearce; and, by that contention, both attempts were +frustrated. Johnson had been commended by Pope, for the translation of +the Messiah into Latin verse; but he knew no approach to so eminent a +man. With one, however, who was connected with Pope, he became +acquainted at St. John's gate; and that person was no other than the +well-known Richard Savage, whose life was afterwards written by Johnson +with great elegance, and a depth of moral reflection. Savage was a man +of considerable talents. His address, his various accomplishments, and, +above all, the peculiarity of his misfortunes, recommended him to +Johnson's notice. They became united in the closest intimacy. Both had +great parts, and they were equally under the pressure of want. Sympathy +joined them in a league of friendship. Johnson has been often heard to +relate, that he and Savage walked round Grosvenor square till four in +the morning; in the course of their conversation reforming the world, +dethroning princes, establishing new forms of government, and giving +laws to the several states of Europe, till, fatigued at length with +their legislative office, they began to feel the want of refreshment, +but could not muster up more than four-pence-halfpenny. Savage, it is +true, had many vices; but vice could never strike its roots in a mind +like Johnson's, seasoned early with religion, and the principles of +moral rectitude. His first prayer was composed in the year 1738. He had +not, at that time, renounced the use of wine; and, no doubt, +occasionally enjoyed his friend and his bottle. The love of late hours, +which followed him through life, was, perhaps, originally contracted in +company with Savage. However that may be, their connexion was not of +long duration. In the year 1738, Savage was reduced to the last +distress. Mr. Pope, in a letter to him, expressed his concern for "the +miserable withdrawing of his pension after the death of the queen;" and +gave him hopes that, "in a short time, he should find himself supplied +with a competence, without any dependance on those little creatures, +whom we are pleased to call the great." The scheme proposed to him was, +that he should retire to Swansea in Wales, and receive an allowance of +fifty pounds a year, to be raised by subscription: Pope was to pay +twenty pounds. This plan, though finally established, took more than a +year before it was carried into execution. In the mean time, the +intended retreat of Savage called to Johnson's mind the third satire of +Juvenal, in which that poet takes leave of a friend, who was withdrawing +himself from all the vices of Rome. Struck with this idea, he wrote that +well-known poem, called London. The first lines manifestly point to +Savage. + + "Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel, + When injur'd Thales bids the town farewell; + Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend; + I praise the hermit, but regret the friend: + Resolv'd, at length, from vice and London far, + To breathe, in distant fields, a purer air; + And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore, + Give to St. David one true Briton more." + +Johnson, at that time, lodged at Greenwich. He there fixes the scene, +and takes leave of his friend; who, he says in his life, parted from him +with tears in his eyes. The poem, when finished, was offered to Cave. It +happened, however, that the late Mr. Dodsley was the purchaser, at the +price of ten guineas. It was published in 1738; and Pope, we are told, +said, "The author, whoever he is, will not be long concealed;" alluding +to the passage in Terence, "Ubi, ubi est, diu celari non potest." +Notwithstanding that prediction, it does not appear that, besides the +copy-money, any advantage accrued to the author of a poem, written with +the elegance and energy of Pope. Johnson, in August, 1738, went, with +all the fame of his poetry, to offer himself a candidate for the +mastership of the school at Appleby, in Leicestershire. The statutes of +the place required, that the person chosen should be a master of arts. +To remove this objection, the then lord Gower was induced to write to a +friend, in order to obtain for Johnson a master's degree in the +university of Dublin, by the recommendation of Dr. Swift. The letter was +printed in one of the magazines, and was as follows: + +SIR,--Mr. Samuel Johnson, author of London, a satire, and some other +poetical pieces, is a native of this county, and much respected by some +worthy gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who are trustees of a +charity-school, now vacant; the certain salary of which is sixty pounds +per year, of which they are desirous to make him master; but, +unfortunately, he is not capable of receiving their bounty, which would +make him happy for life, by not being a master of arts, which, by the +statutes of the school, the master of it must be. + +Now these gentlemen do me the honour to think, that I have interest +enough in you, to prevail upon you to write to dean Swift, to persuade +the university of Dublin to send a diploma to me, constituting this poor +man master of arts in their university. They highly extol the man's +learning and probity; and will not be persuaded, that the university +will make any difficulty of conferring such a favour upon a stranger, if +he is recommended by the dean. They say, he is not afraid of the +strictest examination, though he is of so long a journey; and yet he +will venture it, if the dean thinks it necessary, choosing rather to die +upon the road, than to be starved to death in translating for +booksellers, which has been his only subsistence for some time past. + +I fear there is more difficulty in this affair than these good-natured +gentlemen apprehend, especially as their election cannot be delayed +longer than the eleventh of next month. If you see this matter in the +same light that it appears to me, I hope you will burn this, and pardon +me for giving you so much trouble about an impracticable thing; but, if +you think there is a probability of obtaining the favour asked, I am +sure your humanity and propensity to relieve merit, in distress, will +incline you to serve the poor man, without my adding any more to the +trouble I have already given you, than assuring you, that I am, with +great truth, sir, + +Your faithful humble servant, + +Trentham, Aug. 1st. GOWER. + +This scheme miscarried. There is reason to think, that Swift declined to +meddle in the business; and, to that circumstance, Johnson's known +dislike of Swift has been often imputed. + +It is mortifying to pursue a man of merit through all his difficulties; +and yet this narrative must be, through many following years, the +history of genius and virtue struggling with adversity. Having lost the +school at Appleby, Johnson was thrown back on the metropolis. Bred to no +profession, without relations, friends, or interest, he was condemned to +drudgery in the service of Cave, his only patron. In November, 1738, was +published a translation of Crousaz's Examen of Pope's Essay on Man; +containing a succinct view of the system of the fatalists, and a +confutation of their opinions; with an illustration of the doctrine of +free will; and an enquiry, what view Mr. Pope might have in touching +upon the Leibnitzian philosophy, and fatalism: by Mr. Crousaz, professor +of philosophy and mathematics at Lausanne. This translation has been +generally thought a production of Johnson's pen; but it is now known, +that Mrs. Elizabeth Carter has acknowledged it to be one of her early +performances. It is certain, however, that Johnson was eager to promote +the publication. He considered the foreign philosopher as a man zealous +in the cause of religion; and with him he was willing to join against +the system of the fatalists, and the doctrine of Leibnitz. It is well +known, that Warburton wrote a vindication of Mr. Pope; but there is +reason to think, that Johnson conceived an early prejudice against the +Essay on Man; and what once took root in a mind like his, was not easily +eradicated. His letter to Cave on this subject is still extant, and may +well justify sir John Hawkins, who inferred that Johnson was the +translator of Crousaz. The conclusion of the letter is remarkable: "I am +yours, Impransus." If by that Latin word was meant, that he had not +dined, because he wanted the means, who can read it, even at this hour, +without an aching heart? + +With a mind naturally vigorous, and quickened by necessity, Johnson +formed a multiplicity of projects; but most of them proved abortive. A +number of small tracts issued from his pen with wonderful rapidity; such +as Marmor Norfolciense; or an essay on an ancient prophetical +inscription, in monkish rhyme, discovered at Lynn, in Norfolk. By Probus +Britannicus. This was a pamphlet against sir Robert Walpole. According +to sir John Hawkins, a warrant was issued to apprehend the author, who +retired, with his wife, to an obscure lodging near Lambeth marsh, and +there eluded the search of the messengers. But this story has no +foundation in truth. Johnson was never known to mention such an incident +in his life; and Mr. Steele, late of the treasury, caused diligent +search to be made at the proper offices, and no trace of such a +proceeding could be found. In the same year (1739) the lord chamberlain +prohibited the representation of a tragedy, called Gustavus Vasa, by +Henry Brooke. Under the mask of irony, Johnson published, A Vindication +of the Licenser from the malicious and scandalous Aspersions of Mr. +Brooke. Of these two pieces, sir John Hawkins says, "they have neither +learning nor wit; nor a single ray of that genius, which has since +blazed forth;" but, as they have been lately reprinted, the reader, who +wishes to gratify his curiosity, is referred to the fourteenth volume of +Johnson's works, published by Stockdale[h]. The lives of Boerhaave, +Blake, Barratier, father Paul, and others, were, about that time, +printed in the Gentleman's Magazine. The subscription of fifty pounds a +year for Savage was completed; and, in July 1739, Johnson parted with +the companion of his midnight hours, never to see him more. The +separation was, perhaps, an advantage to him, who wanted to make a right +use of his time, and even then beheld, with self-reproach, the waste +occasioned by dissipation. His abstinence from wine and strong liquors +began soon after the departure of Savage. What habits he contracted in +the course of that acquaintance cannot now be known. The ambition of +excelling in conversation, and that pride of victory, which, at times, +disgraced a man of Johnson's genius, were, perhaps, native blemishes. A +fierce spirit of independence, even in the midst of poverty, may be seen +in Savage; and, if not thence transfused by Johnson into his own +manners, it may, at least, be supposed to have gained strength from the +example before him. During that connexion, there was, if we believe sir +John Hawkins, a short separation between our author and his wife; but a +reconciliation soon took place. Johnson loved her, and showed his +affection in various modes of gallantry, which Garrick used to render +ridiculous by his mimicry. The affectation of soft and fashionable airs +did not become an unwieldy figure: his admiration was received by the +wife with the flutter of an antiquated coquette; and both, it is well +known, furnished matter for the lively genius of Garrick. + +It is a mortifying reflection, that Johnson, with a store of learning +and extraordinary talents, was not able, at the age of thirty, to force +his way to the favour of the public: + + "Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd." + +"He was still," as he says himself, "to provide for the day that was +passing over him." He saw Cave involved in a state of warfare with the +numerous competitors, at that time, struggling with the Gentleman's +Magazine; and gratitude for such supplies as Johnson received, dictated +a Latin ode on the subject of that contention. The first lines, + + "Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus, + Urbane, nullis victe calumniis," + +put one in mind of Casimir's ode to Pope Urban: + + "Urbane, regum maxime, maxime + Urbane vatum."-- + +The Polish poet was, probably, at that time, in the hands of a man, who +had meditated the history of the Latin poets. Guthrie, the historian, +had, from July, 1736, composed the parliamentary speeches for the +magazine; but, from the beginning of the session, which opened on the +19th of November, 1740, Johnson succeeded to that department, and +continued it from that time to the debate on spirituous liquors, which +happened in the house of lords, in February, 1742-3. The eloquence, the +force of argument, and the splendor of language, displayed in the +several speeches, are well known, and universally admired. That Johnson +was the author of the debates, during that period, was not generally +known; but the secret transpired several years afterwards, and was +avowed, by himself, on the following occasion. Mr. Wedderburne, now lord +Loughborough[i], Dr. Johnson, Dr. Francis, the translator of Horace, the +present writer, and others, dined with the late Mr. Foote. An important +debate, towards the end of sir Robert Walpole's administration, being +mentioned, Dr. Francis observed, "that Mr. Pitt's speech, on that +occasion, was the best he had ever read." He added, "that he had +employed eight years of his life in the study of Demosthenes, and +finished a translation of that celebrated orator, with all the +decorations of style and language within the reach of his capacity; but +he had met with nothing equal to the speech above mentioned." Many of +the company remembered the debate, and some passages were cited, with +the approbation and applause of all present. During the ardour of +conversation, Johnson remained silent. As soon as the warmth of praise +subsided, he opened with these words: "That speech I wrote in a garret +in Exeter street." The company was struck with astonishment. After +staring at each other in silent amaze, Dr. Francis asked, "how that +speech could be written by him?" "Sir," said Johnson, "I wrote it in +Exeter street. I never had been in the gallery of the house of commons +but once. Cave had interest with the door-keepers. He, and the persons +employed under him, gained admittance; they brought away the subject of +discussion, the names of the speakers, the side they took, and the order +in which they rose, together with notes of the arguments advanced in the +course of the debate. The whole was afterwards communicated to me, and I +composed the speeches in the form which they now have in the +parliamentary debates." To this discovery, Dr. Francis made answer: +"Then, sir, you have exceeded Demosthenes himself; for to say, that you +have exceeded Francis's Demosthenes, would be saying nothing." The rest +of the company bestowed lavish encomiums on Johnson: one, in particular, +praised his impartiality; observing, that he dealt out reason and +eloquence, with an equal hand to both parties. "That is not quite true," +said Johnson; "I saved appearances tolerably well; but I took care that +the WHIG DOGS should not have the best of it." The sale of the magazine +was greatly increased by the parliamentary debates, which were continued +by Johnson till the month of March, 1742-3. From that time the magazine +was conducted by Dr. Hawkesworth. + +In 1743-4, Osborne, the bookseller, who kept a shop in Gray's inn, +purchased the earl of Oxford's library, at the price of thirteen +thousand pounds. He projected a catalogue in five octavo volumes, at +five shillings each. Johnson was employed in that painful drudgery. He +was, likewise, to collect all such small tracts as were, in any degree, +worth preserving, in order to reprint and publish the whole in a +collection, called The Harleian Miscellany. The catalogue was completed; +and the miscellany, in 1749, was published in eight quarto volumes. In +this business Johnson was a day-labourer for immediate subsistence, not +unlike Gustavus Vasa, working in the mines of Dalecarlia. What Wilcox, a +bookseller of eminence in the Strand, said to Johnson, on his first +arrival in town, was now almost confirmed. He lent our author five +guineas, and then asked him, "How do you mean to earn your livelihood in +this town?" "By my literary labours," was the answer. Wilcox, staring at +him, shook his head: "By your literary labours! You had better buy a +porter's knot." Johnson used to tell this anecdote to Mr. Nichols: but +he said, "Wilcox was one of my best friends, and he meant well." In +fact, Johnson, while employed in Gray's inn, may be said to have carried +a porter's knot. He paused occasionally to peruse the book that came to +his hand. Osborne thought that such curiosity tended to nothing but +delay, and objected to it with all the pride and insolence of a man who +knew that he paid daily wages. In the dispute that of course ensued, +Osborne, with that roughness which was natural to him, enforced his +argument by giving the lie. Johnson seized a folio, and knocked the +bookseller down. This story has been related as an instance of Johnson's +ferocity; but merit cannot always take the spurns of the unworthy with a +patient spirit[k]. + +That the history of an author must be found in his works is, in general, +a true observation; and was never more apparent than in the present +narrative. Every aera of Johnson's life is fixed by his writings. In +1744, he published the life of Savage; and then projected a new edition +of Shakespeare. As a prelude to that design, he published, in 1745, +Miscellaneous Observations on the Tragedy of Macbeth, with remarks on +sir Thomas Hanmer's edition; to which were prefixed, Proposals for a new +Edition of Shakespeare, with a specimen. Of this pamphlet, Warburton, in +the preface to Shakespeare, has given his opinion: "As to all those +things, which have been published under the title of essays, remarks, +observations, &c. on Shakespeare, if you except some critical notes on +Macbeth, given as a specimen of a projected edition, and written, as +appears, by a man of parts and genius, the rest are absolutely below a +serious notice." But the attention of the public was not excited; there +was no friend to promote a subscription; and the project died to revive +at a future day. A new undertaking, however, was soon after proposed; +namely, an English dictionary upon an enlarged plan. Several of the most +opulent booksellers had meditated a work of this kind; and the agreement +was soon adjusted between the parties. Emboldened by this connexion, +Johnson thought of a better habitation than he had hitherto known. He +had lodged with his wife in courts and alleys about the Strand; but now, +for the purpose of carrying on his arduous undertaking, and to be nearer +his printer and friend, Mr. Strahan, he ventured to take a house in +Gough square, Fleet street. He was told, that the earl of Chesterfield +was a friend to his undertaking; and, in consequence of that +intelligence, he published, in 1747, The Plan of a Dictionary of the +English Language, addressed to the right honourable Philip Dormer, earl +of Chesterfield, one of his majesty's principal secretaries of state. +Mr. Whitehead, afterwards poet laureate, undertook to convey the +manuscript to his lordship: the consequence was an invitation from lord +Chesterfield to the author. A stronger contrast of characters could not +be brought together; the nobleman, celebrated for his wit, and all the +graces of polite behaviour; the author, conscious of his own merit, +towering in idea above all competition, versed in scholastic logic, but +a stranger to the arts of polite conversation, uncouth, vehement, and +vociferous. The coalition was too unnatural. Johnson expected a +Maecenas, and was disappointed. No patronage, no assistance followed. +Visits were repeated; but the reception was not cordial. Johnson, one +day, was left a full hour, waiting in an antichamber, till a gentleman +should retire, and leave his lordship at leisure. This was the famous +Colley Cibber. Johnson saw him go, and, fired with indignation, rushed +out of the house[l]. What lord Chesterfield thought of his visitor may +be seen in a passage in one of that nobleman's letters to his son[m]. +"There is a man, whose moral character, deep learning, and superior +parts, I acknowledge, admire, and respect; but whom it is so impossible +for me to love, that I am almost in a fever, whenever I am in his +company. His figure (without being deformed) seems made to disgrace or +ridicule the common structure of the human body. His legs and arms are +never in the position which, according to the situation of his body, +they ought to be in, but constantly employed in committing acts of +hostility upon the graces. He throws any where, but down his throat, +whatever he means to drink; and mangles what he means to carve. +Inattentive to all the regards of social life, he mistimes and misplaces +every thing. He disputes with heat indiscriminately, mindless of the +rank, character, and situation of those with whom he disputes. +Absolutely ignorant of the several gradations of familiarity and +respect, he is exactly the same to his superiors, his equals, and his +inferiors; and, therefore, by a necessary consequence, is absurd to two +of the three. Is it possible to love such a man? No. The utmost I can do +for him is, to consider him a respectable Hottentot." Such was the idea +entertained by lord Chesterfield. After the incident of Colley Cibber, +Johnson never repeated his visits. In his high and decisive tone, he has +been often heard to say, "lord Chesterfield is a wit among lords, and a +lord among wits." + +In the course of the year 1747, Garrick, in conjunction with Lacy, +became patentee of Drury lane playhouse. For the opening of the theatre, +at the usual time, Johnson wrote, for his friend, the well-known +prologue, which, to say no more of it, may, at least, be placed on a +level with Pope's to the tragedy of Cato. The playhouse being now under +Garrick's direction, Johnson thought the opportunity fair to think of +his tragedy of Irene, which was his whole stock on his first arrival in +town, in the year 1737. That play was, accordingly, put into rehearsal +in January, 1749. As a precursor to prepare the way, and to awaken the +public attention, The Vanity of human Wishes, a poem in imitation of the +tenth satire of Juvenal, by the author of London, was published in the +same month. In the Gentleman's Magazine, for February, 1749, we find +that the tragedy of Irene was acted at Drury lane, on Monday, February +the 6th, and, from that time, without interruption, to Monday, February +the 20th, being in all thirteen nights. Since that time, it has not been +exhibited on any stage. Irene may be added to some other plays in our +language, which have lost their place in the theatre, but continue to +please in the closet. During the representation of this piece, Johnson +attended every night behind the scenes. Conceiving that his character, +as an author, required some ornament for his person, he chose, upon that +occasion, to decorate himself with a handsome waistcoat, and a gold-laced +hat. The late Mr. Topham Beauclerc, who had a great deal of that +humour, which pleases the more for seeming undesigned, used to give a +pleasant description of this green-room finery, as related by the author +himself; "But," said Johnson, with great gravity, "I soon laid aside my +gold-laced hat, lest it should make me proud." The amount of the three +benefit nights for the tragedy of Irene, it is to be feared, was not +very considerable, as the profit, that stimulating motive, never invited +the author to another dramatic attempt. Some years afterwards, when the +present writer was intimate with Garrick, and knew Johnson to be in +distress, he asked the manager, why he did not produce another tragedy +for his Lichfield friend? Garrick's answer was remarkable: "When Johnson +writes tragedy, 'declamation roars, and passion sleeps:' when +Shakespeare wrote, he dipped his pen in his own heart." + +There may, perhaps, be a degree of sameness in this regular way of +tracing an author from one work to another, and the reader may feel the +effect of a tedious monotony; but, in the life of Johnson, there are no +other landmarks. He was now forty years old, and had mixed but little +with the world. He followed no profession, transacted no business, and +was a stranger to what is called a town life. We are now arrived at the +brightest period, he had hitherto known. His name broke out upon mankind +with a degree of lustre that promised a triumph over all his +difficulties. The life of Savage was admired, as a beautiful and +instructive piece of biography. The two imitations of Juvenal were +thought to rival even the excellence of Pope; and the tragedy of Irene, +though uninteresting on the stage, was universally admired in the +closet, for the propriety of the sentiments, the richness of the +language, and the general harmony of the whole composition. His fame was +widely diffused; and he had made his agreement with the booksellers for +his English dictionary at the sum of fifteen hundred guineas; a part of +which was to be, from time to time, advanced, in proportion to the +progress of the work. This was a certain fund for his support, without +being obliged to write fugitive pieces for the petty supplies of the +day. Accordingly we find that, in 1749, he established a club, +consisting of ten in number, at Horseman's, in Ivy lane, on every +Tuesday evening. This is the first scene of social life to which Johnson +can be traced, out of his own house. The members of this little society +were, Samuel Johnson; Dr. Salter, father of the late master of the +Charter house; Dr. Hawkesworth; Mr. Ryland, a merchant; Mr. Payne, a +bookseller, in Paternoster row; Mr. Samuel Dyer, a learned young man; +Dr. William M'Ghie, a Scotch physician; Dr. Edmund Barker, a young +physician; Dr. Bathurst, another young physician; and sir John Hawkins. +This list is given by sir John, as it should seem, with no other view +than to draw a spiteful and malevolent character of almost every one of +them. Mr. Dyer, whom sir John says he loved with the affection of a +brother, meets with the harshest treatment, because it was his maxim, +that "to live in peace with mankind, and in a temper to do good offices, +was the most essential part of our duty." That notion of moral goodness +gave umbrage to sir John Hawkins, and drew down upon the memory of his +friend, the bitterest imputations. Mr. Dyer, however, was admired and +loved through life. He was a man of literature. Johnson loved to enter +with him into a discussion of metaphysical, moral, and critical +subjects; in those conflicts, exercising his talents, and, according to +his custom, always contending for victory. Dr. Bathurst was the person +on whom Johnson fixed his affection. He hardly ever spoke of him without +tears in his eyes. It was from him, who was a native of Jamaica, that +Johnson received into his service Frank[n], the black servant, whom, on +account of his master, he valued to the end of his life. At the time of +instituting the club in Ivy lane, Johnson had projected the Rambler. The +title was most probably suggested by the Wanderer; a poem which he +mentions, with the warmest praise, in the life of Savage. With the same +spirit of independence with which he wished to live, it was now his +pride to write. He communicated his plan to none of his friends: he +desired no assistance, relying entirely on his own fund, and the +protection of the divine being, which he implored in a solemn form of +prayer, composed by himself for the occasion. Having formed a resolution +to undertake a work that might be of use and honour to his country, he +thought, with Milton, that this was not to be obtained "but by devout +prayer to that eternal spirit, that can enrich with all utterance and +knowledge, and send out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his +altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases." + +Having invoked the special protection of heaven, and by that act of +piety fortified his mind, he began the great work of the Rambler. The +first number was published on Tuesday, March the 20th, 1750; and from +that time was continued regularly every Tuesday and Saturday, for the +space of two years, when it finally closed on Saturday, March 14, 1752. +As it began with motives of piety, so it appears that the same religious +spirit glowed, with unabating ardour, to the last. His conclusion is: +"The essays professedly serious, if I have been able to execute my own +intentions, will be found exactly conformable to the precepts of +christianity, without any accommodation to the licentiousness and levity +of the present age. I, therefore, look back on this part of my work with +pleasure, which no man shall diminish or augment. I shall never envy the +honours which wit and learning obtain in any other cause, if I can be +numbered among the writers who have given ardour to virtue, and +confidence to truth." The whole number of essays amounted to two hundred +and eight. Addison's, in the Spectator, are more in number, but not half +in point of quantity: Addison was not bound to publish on stated days; +he could watch the ebb and flow of his genius, and send his paper to the +press, when his own taste was satisfied. Johnson's case was very +different. He wrote singly and alone. In the whole progress of the work +he did not receive more than ten essays. This was a scanty contribution. +For the rest, the author has described his situation: "He that condemns +himself to compose on a stated day, will often bring to his task an +attention dissipated, a memory embarrassed, an imagination overwhelmed, +a mind distracted with anxieties, a body languishing with disease: he +will labour on a barren topick, till it is too late to change it; or, in +the ardour of invention, diffuse his thoughts into wild exuberance, +which the pressing hour of publication cannot suffer judgment to examine +or reduce." Of this excellent production, the number sold on each day +did not amount to five hundred: of course, the bookseller, who paid the +author four guineas a week, did not carry on a successful trade. His +generosity and perseverance deserve to be commended; and happily, when +the collection appeared in volumes, were amply rewarded. Johnson lived +to see his labours nourish in a tenth edition. His posterity, as an +ingenious French writer has said, on a similar occasion, began in his +life-time. + +In the beginning of 1750, soon after the Rambler was set on foot, +Johnson was induced, by the arts of a vile impostor, to lend his +assistance, during a temporary delusion, to a fraud not to be paralleled +in the annals of literature[o]. One Lauder, a native of Scotland, who +had been a teacher in the university of Edinburgh, had conceived a +mortal antipathy to the name and character of Milton. His reason was, +because the prayer of Pamela, in sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, was, as he +supposed, maliciously inserted by the great poet in an edition of the +Eikon Basilike, in order to fix an imputation of impiety on the +memory of the murdered king. Fired with resentment, and willing to reap +the profits of a gross imposition, this man collected, from several +Latin poets, such as Masenius the jesuit, Staphorstius, a Dutch divine, +Beza, and others, all such passages as bore any kind of resemblance to +different places in the Paradise Lost; and these he published, from time +to time, in the Gentleman's Magazine, with occasional interpolations of +lines, which he himself translated from Milton. The public credulity +swallowed all with eagerness; and Milton was supposed to be guilty of +plagiarism from inferior modern writers. The fraud succeeded so well, +that Lauder collected the whole into a volume, and advertised it under +the title of An Essay on Milton's Use and Imitation of the Moderns, in +his Paradise Lost; dedicated to the universities of Oxford and +Cambridge. While the book was in the press, the proof-sheets were shown +to Johnson, at the Ivy lane club, by Payne, the bookseller, who was one +of the members. No man in that society was in possession of the authors +from whom Lauder professed to make his extracts. The charge was +believed, and the contriver of it found his way to Johnson, who is +represented, by sir John Hawkins, not indeed as an accomplice in the +fraud, but, through motives of malignity to Milton, delighting in the +detection, and exulting that the poet's reputation would suffer by the +discovery. More malice to a deceased friend cannot well be imagined. +Hawkins adds, "that he wished well to the argument must be inferred from +the preface, which, indubitably, was written by him." The preface, it is +well known, was written by Johnson, and for that reason is inserted in +this edition. But if Johnson approved of the argument, it was no longer +than while he believed it founded in truth. Let us advert to his own +words in that very preface. "Among the inquiries to which the ardour of +criticism has naturally given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, +or more worthy of rational curiosity, than a retrospection of the +progress of this mighty genius in the construction of his work; a view +of the fabrick gradually rising, perhaps from small beginnings, till its +foundation rests in the centre, and its turrets sparkle in the skies; to +trace back the structure, through all its varieties, to the simplicity +of the first plan; to find what was projected, whence the scheme was +taken, how it was improved, by what assistance it was executed, and from +what stores the materials were collected; whether its founder dug them +from the quarries of nature, or demolished other buildings to embellish +his own." These were the motives that induced Johnson to assist Lauder +with a preface; and are not these the motives of a critic and a scholar? +What reader of taste, what man of real knowledge, would not think his +time well employed in an enquiry so curious, so interesting, and +instructive? If Lauder's facts were really true, who would not be glad, +without the smallest tincture of malevolence, to receive real +information? It is painful to be thus obliged to vindicate a man who, in +his heart, towered above the petty arts of fraud and imposition, against +an injudicious biographer, who undertook to be his editor, and the +protector of his memory. Another writer, Dr. Towers, in an Essay on the +Life and Character of Dr. Johnson, seems to countenance this calumny. He +says: "It can hardly be doubted, but that Johnson's aversion to +Milton's politics was the cause of that alacrity, with which he joined +with Lauder in his infamous attack on our great epic poet, and which +induced him to assist in that transaction." These words would seem to +describe an accomplice, were they not immediately followed by an express +declaration, that Johnson was "unacquainted with the imposture." Dr. +Towers adds, "It seems to have been, by way of making some compensation +to the memory of Milton, for the share he had in the attack of Lauder, +that Johnson wrote the prologue, spoken by Garrick, at Drury lane +theatre, 1750, on the performance of the Masque of Comus, for the +benefit of Milton's granddaughter." Dr. Towers is not free from +prejudice; but, as Shakespeare has it, "he begets a temperance, to give +it smoothness." He is, therefore, entitled to a dispassionate answer. +When Johnson wrote the prologue, it does appear that he was aware of the +malignant artifices practised by Lauder. In the postscript to Johnson's +preface, a subscription is proposed, for relieving the granddaughter of +the author of Paradise Lost. Dr. Towers will agree, that this shows +Johnson's alacrity in doing good. That alacrity showed itself again, in +the letter printed in the European Magazine, January, 1785, and there +said to have appeared originally in the General Advertiser, 4th April, +1750, by which the public were invited to embrace the opportunity of +paying a just regard to the illustrious dead, united with the pleasure +of doing good to the living. The letter adds, "To assist industrious +indigence, struggling with distress, and debilitated by age, is a +display of virtue, and an acquisition of happiness and honour. Whoever, +therefore, would be thought capable of pleasure, in reading the works of +our incomparable Milton, and not so destitute of gratitude, as to refuse +to lay out a trifle, in a rational and elegant entertainment, for the +benefit of his living remains, for the exercise of their own virtue, the +increase of their reputation, and the consciousness of doing good, +should appear at Drury lane theatre, to-morrow, April 5, when Comus will +be performed, for the benefit of Mrs. Elizabeth Foster, granddaughter to +the author, and the only surviving branch of his family. _Nota bene_, +there will be a new prologue on the occasion, written by the author of +Irene, and spoken by Mr. Garrick." The man, who had thus exerted himself +to serve the granddaughter, cannot be supposed to have entertained +personal malice to the grandfather. It is true, that the malevolence of +Lauder, as well as the impostures of Archibald Bower, were fully +detected by the labours, in the cause of truth, of the reverend Dr. +Douglas, the late lord bishop of Salisbury, + +--"Diram qui contudit Hydram + Notaque fatali portenta labore subegit." + +But the pamphlet, entitled, Milton vindicated from the Charge +of Plagiarism brought against him by Mr. Lauder, and Lauder himself +convicted of several forgeries, and gross impositions on the public, by +John Douglas, M.A. rector of Eaton Constantine, Salop, was not published +till the year 1751. In that work, p. 77, Dr. Douglas says, "It is to be +hoped, nay, it is expected, that the elegant and nervous writer, whose +judicious sentiments, and inimitable style, point out the author of +Lauder's preface and postcript, will no longer allow a man to plume +himself with his feathers, who appears so little to have deserved his +assistance; an assistance which, I am persuaded, would never have been +communicated, had there been the least suspicion of those facts, which I +have been the instrument of conveying to the world." We have here a +contemporary testimony to the integrity of Dr. Johnson, throughout the +whole of that vile transaction. What was the consequence of the +requisition made by Dr. Douglas? Johnson, whose ruling passion may be +said to be the love of truth, convinced Lauder, that it would be more +for his interest to make a full confession of his guilt, than to stand +forth the convicted champion of a lie; and, for this purpose, he drew +up, in the strongest terms, a recantation, in a letter to the reverend +Mr. Douglas, which Lauder signed, and published in the year 1751. That +piece will remain a lasting memorial of the abhorrence, with which +Johnson beheld a violation of truth. Mr. Nichols, whose attachment to +his illustrious friend was unwearied, showed him, in 1780, a book, +called Remarks on Johnson's Life of Milton; in which the affair of +Lauder was renewed with virulence; and a poetical scale in the Literary +Magazine, 1758, (when Johnson had ceased to write in that collection,) +was urged as an additional proof of deliberate malice. He read the +libellous passage with attention, and instantly wrote on the margin: "In +the business of Lauder I was deceived, partly by thinking the man too +frantick to be fraudulent. Of the poetical scale, quoted from the +magazine, I am not the author. I fancy it was put in after I had quitted +that work; for I not only did not write it, but I do not remember it." +As a critic and a scholar, Johnson was willing to receive what numbers, +at the time, believed to be true information: when he found that the +whole was a forgery, he renounced all connexion with the author. + +In March, 1752, he felt a severe stroke of affliction in the death of +his wife. The last number of the Rambler, as already mentioned, was on +the 14th of that month. The loss of Mrs. Johnson was then approaching, +and, probably, was the cause that put an end to those admirable +periodical essays. It appears that she died on the 28th of March, in a +memorandum, at the foot of the Prayers and Meditations, that is called +her Dying Day. She was buried at Bromley, under the care of Dr. +Hawkesworth. Johnson placed a Latin inscription on her tomb, in which he +celebrated her beauty. With the singularity of his prayers for his +deceased wife, from that time to the end of his days, the world is +sufficiently acquainted. On Easter day, 22nd April, 1764, his memorandum +says: "Thought on Tetty, poor dear Tetty! with my eyes full. Went to +church. After sermon I recommended Tetty in a prayer by herself; and my +father, mother, brother, and Bathurst, in another. I did it only once, +so far as it might be lawful for me." In a prayer, January 23, 1759, the +day on which his mother was buried, he commends, as far as may be +lawful, her soul to God, imploring for her whatever is most beneficial +to her in her present state. In this habit he persevered to the end of +his days. The reverend Mr. Strahan, the editor of the Prayers and +Meditations, observes, "that Johnson, on some occasions, prays that the +Almighty _may have had mercy_ on his wife and Mr. Thrale; evidently +supposing their sentence to have been already passed in the divine mind; +and, by consequence, proving, that he had no belief in a state of +purgatory, and no reason for praying for the dead that could impeach the +sincerity of his profession as a protestant." Mr. Strahan adds, "that, +in praying for the regretted tenants of the grave, Johnson conformed to +a practice which has been retained by many learned members of the +established church, though the liturgy no longer admits it, if _where +the tree, falleth, there it shall be_; if our state, at the close of +life, is to be the measure of our final sentence, then prayers for the +dead, being visibly fruitless, can be regarded only as the vain +oblations of superstition. But of all superstitions this, perhaps, is +one of the least unamiable, and most incident to a good mind. If our +sensations of kindness be intense, those, whom we have revered and +loved, death cannot wholly seclude from our concern. It is true, for the +reason just mentioned, such evidences of our surviving affection may be +thought ill judged; but surely they are generous, and some natural +tenderness is due even to a superstition, which thus originates in piety +and benevolence." These sentences, extracted from the reverend Mr. +Strahan's preface, if they are not a full justification, are, at least, +a beautiful apology. It will not be improper to add what Johnson himself +has said on the subject. Being asked by Mr. Boswell[p], what he thought +of purgatory, as believed by the Roman catholicks? his answer was, "It +is a very harmless doctrine. They are of opinion, that the generality of +mankind are neither so obstinately wicked, as to deserve everlasting +punishment; nor so good as to merit being admitted into the society of +blessed spirits; and, therefore, that God is graciously pleased to allow +a middle state, where they may be purified by certain degrees of +suffering. You see there is nothing unreasonable in this; and if it be +once established, that there are souls in purgatory, it is as proper to +pray for them, as for our brethren of mankind, who are yet in this +life." This was Dr. Johnson's guess into futurity; and to guess is the +utmost that man can do: + + "Shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it." + +Mrs. Johnson left a daughter, Lucy Porter, by her first husband. She had +contracted a friendship with Mrs. Anne Williams, the daughter of Zachary +Williams, a physician of eminence in South Wales, who had devoted more +than thirty years of a long life to the study of the longitude, and was +thought to have made great advances towards that important discovery. +His letters to lord Halifax, and the lords of the admiralty, partly +corrected and partly written by Dr. Johnson, are still extant in the +hands of Mr. Nichols[q]. We there find Dr. Williams, in the eighty-third +year of his age, stating, that he had prepared an instrument, which +might be called an epitome or miniature of the terraqueous globe, +showing, with the assistance of tables, constructed by himself, the +variations of the magnetic needle, and ascertaining the longitude, for +the safety of navigation. It appears that this scheme had been referred +to sir Isaac Newton; but that great philosopher excusing himself on +account of his advanced age, all applications were useless, till 1751, +when the subject was referred, by order of lord Anson, to Dr. Bradley, +the celebrated professor of astronomy. His report was unfavourable[r], +though it allows that a considerable progress had been made. Dr. +Williams, after all his labour and expense, died in a short time after, +a melancholy instance of unrewarded merit. His daughter possessed +uncommon talents, and, though blind, had an alacrity of mind that made +her conversation agreeable, and even desirable. To relieve and appease +melancholy reflexions, Johnson took her home to his house in Gough +square. In 1755, Garrick gave her a benefit play, which produced two +hundred pounds. In 1766, she published, by subscription, a quarto volume +of miscellanies, and increased her little stock to three hundred pounds. +That fund, with Johnson's protection, supported her, through the +remainder of her life. + +During the two years in which the Rambler was carried on, the Dictionary +proceeded by slow degrees. In May, 1752, having composed a prayer, +preparatory to his return from tears and sorrow to the duties of life, +he resumed his grand design, and went on with vigour, giving, however, +occasional assistance to his friend, Dr. Hawkesworth, in the Adventurer, +which began soon after the Rambler was laid aside. Some of the most +valuable essays in that collection were from the pen of Johnson. The +Dictionary was completed towards the end of 1754; and, Cave being then +no more, it was a mortification to the author of that noble addition to +our language, that his old friend did not live to see the triumph of his +labours. In May, 1755, that great work was published. Johnson was +desirous that it should come from one who had obtained academical +honours; and for that purpose his friend, the rev. Thos. Warton, +obtained for him, in the preceding month of February, a diploma for a +master's degree, from the university of Oxford.--Garrick, on the +publication of the Dictionary, wrote the following lines: + + "Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance, + That one English soldier can beat ten of France. + Would we alter the boast, from the sword to the pen, + Our odds are still greater, still greater our men. + In the deep mines of science, though Frenchmen may toil, + Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, or Boyle? + Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their powers, + Their versemen and prosemen, then match them with ours. + First Shakespeare and Milton, like gods in the fight, + Have put their whole drama and epic to flight. + In satires, epistles, and odes would they cope? + Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope. + And Johnson, well arm'd, like a hero of yore, + Has beat forty French, and will beat forty more." + +It is, perhaps, needless to mention, that forty was the number of the +French academy, at the time when their dictionary was published to +settle their language. + +In the course of the winter, preceding this grand publication, the late +earl of Chesterfield gave two essays in the periodical paper, called The +World, dated November 28, and December 5, 1754, to prepare the public +for so important a work. The original plan, addressed to his lordship in +the year 1747, is there mentioned, in terms of the highest praise; and +this was understood, at the time, to be a courtly way of soliciting a +dedication of the Dictionary to himself. Johnson treated this civility +with disdain. He said to Garrick and others: "I have sailed a long and +painful voyage round the world of the English language; and does he now +send out two cockboats to tow me into harbour?" He had said, in the last +number of the Rambler, "that, having laboured to maintain the dignity of +virtue, I will not now degrade it by the meanness of dedication." Such a +man, when he had finished his Dictionary, "not," as he says himself, "in +the soft obscurities of retirement, or under the shelter of academick +bowers, but amidst inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in +sorrow, and without the patronage of the great," was not likely to be +caught by the lure, thrown out by lord Chesterfield. He had, in vain, +sought the patronage of that nobleman; and his pride, exasperated by +disappointment, drew from him the following letter, dated in the month +of February, 1755. + + "TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD. + + MY LORD,--I have been lately informed, by the proprietors of The + World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the + publick, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished is an + honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, + I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. + + When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I + was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your + address, and could not forbear to wish, that I might boast myself "le + vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre;" that I might obtain that regard + for which I saw the world contending. But I found my attendance so + little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to + continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in publick, I had + exhausted all the art of pleasing, which a retired and uncourtly + scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well + pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. + + Seven years, my lord, have now passed, since I waited in your outward + room, or was repulsed from your door; during which time, I have been + pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to + complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, + without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile + of favour. Such treatment I did not expect; for I never had a patron + before. + + The shepherd in Virgil grew acquainted with love, and found him a + native of the rocks. + + Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man + struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, + encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to + take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been + delayed, till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am + solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I + hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations, where + no benefit has been received; or to be unwilling that the publick + should consider me as owing that to a patron, which providence has + enabled me to do for myself. + + Having carried on my work, thus far, with so little obligation to any + favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed, though I should + conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long + wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself, with + so much exultation, + + My lord, + your lordship's most humble + and most obedient servant, + SAMUEL JOHNSON." + +It is said, upon good authority, that Johnson once received from lord +Chesterfield the sum of ten pounds. It were to be wished that the secret +had never transpired. It was mean to receive it, and meaner to give it. +It may be imagined, that for Johnson's ferocity, as it has been called, +there was some foundation in his finances; and, as his Dictionary was +brought to a conclusion, that money was now to flow in upon him. The +reverse was the case. For his subsistence, during the progress of the +work, he had received, at different times, the amount of his contract; +and, when his receipts were produced to him at a tavern dinner, given by +the booksellers, it appeared, that he had been paid a hundred pounds and +upwards more than his due. The author of a book, called Lexiphanes[s], +written by a Mr. Campbell, a Scotchman, and purser of a man of war, +endeavoured to blast his laurels, but in vain. The world applauded, and +Johnson never replied. "Abuse," he said, "is often of service: there is +nothing so dangerous to an author as silence; his name, like a +shittlecock [Transcriber's note: sic], must be beat backward and forward, +or it falls to the ground." Lexiphanes professed to be an imitation of the +pleasant manner of Lucian; but humour was not the talent of the writer of +Lexiphanes. As Dryden says, "he had too much horse-play in his raillery." + +It was in the summer, 1754, that the present writer became acquainted +with Dr. Johnson. The cause of his first visit is related by Mrs. +Piozzi, nearly in the following manner:--Mr. Murphy being engaged in a +periodical paper, the Gray's inn Journal, was at a friend's house in the +country, and, not being disposed to lose pleasure for business, wished +to content his bookseller by some unstudied essay. He, therefore, took +up a French Journal Litteraire, and, translating something he liked, +sent it away to town. Time, however, discovered that he translated from +the French, a Rambler, which had been taken from the English, without +acknowledgment. Upon this discovery, Mr. Murphy thought it right to make +his excuses to Dr. Johnson. He went next day, and found him covered with +soot, like a chimney-sweeper, in a little room, as if he had been acting +Lungs, in the Alchemist, "making ether." This being told by Mr. Murphy, +in company, "Come, come," said Dr. Johnson, "the story is black enough; +but it was a happy day that brought you first to my house." After this +first visit, the author of this narrative, by degrees, grew intimate +with Dr. Johnson. The first striking sentence, that he heard from him, +was in a few days after the publication of lord Bolingbroke's posthumous +works. Mr. Garrick asked him, "If he had seen them." "Yes, I have seen +them." "What do you think of them?" "Think of them!" He made a long +pause, and then replied: "Think of them! A scoundrel, and a coward! A +scoundrel, who spent his life in charging a gun against christianity; +and a coward, who was afraid of hearing the report of his own gun; but +left half a crown to a hungry Scotchman to draw the trigger, after his +death." His mind, at this time strained, and over-laboured by constant +exertion, called for an interval of repose and indolence. But indolence +was the time of danger: it was then that his spirits, not employed +abroad, turned with inward hostility against himself. His reflections on +his own life and conduct were always severe; and, wishing to be +immaculate, he destroyed his own peace by unnecessary scruples. He tells +us, that when he surveyed his past life, he discovered nothing but a +barren waste of time, with some disorders of body, and disturbances of +mind, very near to madness. His life, he says, from his earliest years, +was wasted in a morning bed; and his reigning sin was a general +sluggishness, to which he was always inclined, and, in part of his life, +almost compelled, by morbid melancholy, and weariness of mind. This was +his constitutional malady, derived, perhaps, from his father, who was, +at times, overcast with a gloom that bordered on insanity. When to this +it is added, that Johnson, about the age of twenty, drew up a +description of his infirmities, for Dr. Swinfen, at that time an eminent +physician, in Staffordshire; and received an answer to his letter, +importing, that the symptoms indicated a future privation of reason; who +can wonder, that he was troubled with melancholy, and dejection of +spirit? An apprehension of the worst calamity that can befall human +nature hung over him all the rest of his life, like the sword of the +tyrant suspended over his guest. In his sixtieth year he had a mind to +write the history of his melancholy; but he desisted, not knowing +whether it would not too much disturb him. In a Latin poem, however, to +which he has prefixed, as a title, [Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON], he has left +a picture of himself, drawn with as much truth, and as firm a hand, as +can be seen in the portraits of Hogarth, or sir Joshua Reynolds. The +learned reader will find the original poem in this volume; and it is +hoped, that a translation, or rather imitation, of so curious a piece, +will not be improper in this place. + + KNOW YOURSELF. + (AFTER REVISING AND ENLARGING THE ENGLISH LEXICON, OR DICTIONARY.) + + When Scaliger, whole years of labour past, + Beheld his lexicon complete at last, + And weary of his task, with wond'ring eyes, + Saw, from words pil'd on words, a fabric rise, + He curs'd the industry, inertly strong, + In creeping toil that could persist so long; + And if, enrag'd he cried, heav'n meant to shed + Its keenest vengeance on the guilty head, + The drudgery of words the damn'd would know, + Doom'd to write lexicons in endless woe[t]. + + Yes, you had cause, great genius, to repent; + "You lost good days, that might be better spent;" + You well might grudge the hours of ling'ring pain, + And view your learned labours with disdain. + To you were given the large expanded mind, + The flame of genius, and the taste refin'd. + 'Twas yours, on eagle wings, aloft to soar, + And, amidst rolling worlds, the great first cause explore, + To fix the aeras of recorded time, + And live in ev'ry age and ev'ry clime; + Record the chiefs, who propt their country's cause; + Who founded empires, and establish'd laws; + To learn whate'er the sage, with virtue fraught, + Whate'er the muse of moral wisdom taught. + These were your quarry; these to you were known, + And the world's ample volume was your own. + + Yet, warn'd by me, ye pigmy wits, beware, + Nor with immortal Scaliger compare. + For me, though his example strike my view, + Oh! not for me his footsteps to pursue. + Whether first nature, unpropitious, cold, + This clay compounded in a ruder mould; + Or the slow current, loit'ring at my heart, + No gleam of wit or fancy can impart; + Whate'er the cause, from me no numbers flow, + No visions warm me, and no raptures glow. + A mind like Scaliger's, superior still, + No grief could conquer, no misfortune chill. + Though, for the maze of words, his native skies + He seem'd to quit, 'twas but again to rise; + To mount, once more, to the bright source of day, + And view the wonders of th' ethereal way. + The love of fame his gen'rous bosom fir'd; + Each science hail'd him, and each muse inspir'd. + For him the sons of learning trimm'd the bays, + And nations grew harmonious in his praise. + + My task perform'd, and all my labours o'er, + For me what lot has fortune now in store? + The listless will succeeds, that worst disease, + The rack of indolence, the sluggish ease. + Care grows on care, and o'er my aching brain + Black melancholy pours her morbid train. + No kind relief, no lenitive at hand, + I seek, at midnight clubs, the social band; + But midnight clubs, where wit with noise conspires, + Where Comus revels, and where wine inspires, + Delight no more: I seek my lonely bed, + And call on sleep to sooth my languid head. + But sleep from these sad lids flies far away; + I mourn all night, and dread the coming day. + Exhausted, tir'd, I throw my eyes around, + To find some vacant spot on classic ground; + And soon, vain hope! I form a grand design; + Languor succeeds, and all my pow'rs decline. + If science open not her richest vein, + Without materials all our toil is vain. + A form to rugged stone when Phidias gives-- + Beneath his touch a new creation lives. + Remove his marble, and his genius dies: + With nature then no breathing statue vies. + Whate'er I plan, I feel my pow'rs confin'd + By fortune's frown, and penury of mind. + I boast no knowledge, glean'd with toil and strife, + That bright reward of a well acted life. + I view myself, while reason's feeble light + Shoots a pale glimmer through the gloom of night; + While passions, error, phantoms of the brain, + And vain opinions, fill the dark domain; + A dreary void, where fears, with grief combin'd, + Waste all within, and desolate the mind. + + What then remains? Must I, in slow decline, + To mute inglorious ease old age resign? + Or, bold ambition kindling in my breast, + Attempt some arduous task? Or, were it best, + Brooding o'er lexicons to pass the day, + And in that labour drudge my life away? + +Such is the picture for which Dr. Johnson sat to himself. He gives the +prominent features of his character; his lassitude, his morbid +melancholy, his love of fame, his dejection, his tavern-parties, and his +wandering reveries, "Vacuae mala somnia mentis," about which so much has +been written; all are painted in miniature, but in vivid colours, by his +own hand. His idea of writing more dictionaries was not merely said in +verse. Mr. Hamilton, who was at that time an eminent printer, and well +acquainted with Dr. Johnson, remembers that he engaged in a Commercial +Dictionary, and, as appears by the receipts in his possession, was paid +his price for several sheets; but he soon relinquished the undertaking. +It is probable, that he found himself not sufficiently versed in that +branch of knowledge. + +He was again reduced to the expedient of short compositions, for the +supply of the day. The writer of this narrative has now before him a +letter, in Dr. Johnson's handwriting, which shows the distress and +melancholy situation of the man, who had written the Rambler, and +finished the great work of his Dictionary. The letter is directed to Mr. +Richardson, the author of Clarissa, and is as follows: + + "SIR,--I am obliged to entreat your assistance. I am now under an + arrest for five pounds eighteen shillings. Mr. Strahan, from whom I + should have received the necessary help in this case, is not at home; + and I am afraid of not finding Mr. Millar. If you will be so good as + to send me this sum, I will very gratefully repay you, and add it to + all former obligations. I am, sir, + + Your most obedient, + + and most humble servant, + + SAMUEL JOHNSON. + + Gough square, 16 March." + +In the margin of this letter, there is a memorandum in these words: +"March 16, 1756, sent six guineas. Witness, Wm. Richardson." For the +honour of an admired writer it is to be regretted, that we do not find a +more liberal entry. To his friend, in distress, he sent eight shillings +more than was wanted. Had an incident of this kind occurred in one of +his romances, Richardson would have known how to grace his hero; but in +fictitious scenes, generosity costs the writer nothing. + +About this time Johnson contributed several papers to a periodical +miscellany, called The Visiter, from motives which are highly honourable +to him, a compassionate regard for the late Mr. Christopher Smart. The +criticism on Pope's epitaphs appeared in that work. In a short time +after, he became a reviewer in the Literary magazine, under the auspices +of the late Mr. Newbery, a man of a projecting head, good taste, and +great industry. This employment engrossed but little of Johnson's time. +He resigned himself to indolence, took no exercise, rose about two, and +then received the visits of his friends. Authors, long since forgotten, +waited on him, as their oracle, and he gave responses in the chair of +criticism. He listened to the complaints, the schemes, and the hopes and +fears of a crowd of inferior writers, "who," he said, in the words of +Roger Ascham, "lived _men knew not how, and died obscure, men marked not +when_." He believed, that he could give a better history of Grub street +than any man living. His house was filled with a succession of visitors +till four or five in the evening. During the whole time he presided at +his tea-table. Tea was his favourite beverage; and, when the late Jonas +Hanway pronounced his anathema against the use of tea, Johnson rose in +defence of his habitual practice, declaring himself "in that article, a +hardened sinner, who had for years diluted his meals with the infusion +of that fascinating plant; whose tea-kettle had no time to cool; who, +with tea, solaced the midnight hour, and with tea welcomed the morning." + +The proposal for a new edition of Shakespeare, which had formerly +miscarried, was resumed in the year 1756. The booksellers readily agreed +to his terms: and subscription-tickets were issued out. For undertaking +this work, money, he confessed, was the inciting motive. His friends +exerted themselves to promote his interest; and, in the mean time, he +engaged in a new periodical production, called The Idler. The first +number appeared on Saturday, April 15, 1758 and the last, April 5, 1760. +The profits of this work, and the subscriptions for the new edition of +Shakespeare, were the means by which he supported himself for four or +five years. In 1759, was published Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia. His +translation of Lobo's Voyage to Abissinia, seems to have pointed out +that country for the scene of action; and Rassela Christos, the general +of sultan Sequed, mentioned in that work, most probably suggested the +name of the prince. The author wanted to set out on a journey to +Lichfield, in order to pay the last offices of filial piety to his +mother, who, at the age of ninety, was then near her dissolution; but +money was necessary. Mr. Johnston, a bookseller, who has, long since, +left off business, gave one hundred pounds for the copy. With this +supply Johnson set out for Lichfield; but did not arrive in time to +close the eyes of a parent whom he loved. He attended the funeral, +which, as appears among his memorandums, was on the 23rd of January, +1759. + +Johnson now found it necessary to retrench his expenses. He gave up his +house in Gough square. Mrs. Williams went into lodgings. He retired to +Gray's inn, and soon removed to chambers in the Inner Temple lane, where +he lived in poverty, total idleness, and the pride of literature: "Magni +stat nominis umbra." Mr. Fitzherbert, the father of lord St. Helens, the +present minister at Madrid, a man distinguished, through life, for his +benevolence and other amiable qualities, used to say, that he paid a +morning visit to Johnson, intending, from his chambers, to send a letter +into the city; but, to his great surprise, he found an author by +profession, without pen, ink, or paper. The present bishop of Salisbury +was also among those who endeavoured, by constant attention, to sooth +the cares of a mind, which he knew to be afflicted with gloomy +apprehensions. At one of the parties made at his house, Boscovich, the +jesuit, who had then lately introduced the Newtonian philosophy at Rome, +and, after publishing an elegant Latin poem on the subject, was made a +fellow of the Royal Society, was one of the company invited to meet Dr. +Johnson. The conversation, at first, was mostly in French. Johnson, +though thoroughly versed in that language, and a professed admirer of +Boileau and La Bruyere, did not understand its pronunciation, nor +could he speak it himself with propriety. For the rest of the evening +the talk was in Latin. Boscovich had a ready current flow of that flimsy +phraseology, with which a priest may travel through Italy, Spain, and +Germany. Johnson scorned what he called colloquial barbarisms. It was +his pride to speak his best. He went on, after a little practice, with +as much facility as if it was his native tongue. One sentence this +writer well remembers. Observing that Fontenelle, at first, opposed the +Newtonian philosophy, and embraced it afterwards, his words were: +"Fontinellus, ni fallor, in extrema senectute, fuit transfuga ad castra +Newtoniana." + +We have now travelled through that part of Dr. Johnson's life, which was +a perpetual struggle with difficulties. Halcyon days are now to open +upon him. In the month of May, 1762, his majesty, to reward literary +merit, signified his pleasure to grant to Johnson a pension of three +hundred pounds a year. The earl of Bute was minister. Lord Loughborough, +who, perhaps, was originally a mover in the business, had authority to +mention it. He was well acquainted with Johnson; but, having heard much +of his independent spirit, and of the downfal of Osborne, the +bookseller, he did not know but his benevolence might be rewarded with a +folio on his head. He desired the author of these memoirs to undertake +the task. This writer thought the opportunity of doing so much good the +most happy incident in his life. He went, without delay, to the +chambers, in the Inner Temple lane, which, in fact, were the abode of +wretchedness. By slow and studied approaches the message was disclosed. +Johnson made a long pause: he asked if it was seriously intended: he +fell into a profound meditation, and his own definition of a pensioner +occurred to him. He was told, "that he, at least, did not come within +the definition." He desired to meet next day, and dine at the Mitre +tavern. At that meeting he gave up all his scruples. On the following +day, lord Loughborough conducted him to the earl of Bute. The +conversation that passed, was, in the evening, related to this writer, +by Dr. Johnson. He expressed his sense of his majesty's bounty, and +thought himself the more highly honoured, as the favour was not bestowed +on him for having dipped his pen in faction. "No, sir," said lord Bute, +"it is not offered to you for having dipped your pen in faction, nor +with a design that you ever should." Sir John Hawkins will have it, +that, after this interview, Johnson was often pressed to wait on lord +Bute, but with a sullen spirit refused to comply. However that be, +Johnson was never heard to utter a disrespectful word of that nobleman. +The writer of this essay remembers a circumstance, which may throw some +light on this subject. The late Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, whom Johnson +loved and respected, contended for the pre-eminence of the Scotch +writers; and Ferguson's book on Civil Society, then on the eve of +publication, he said, would give the laurel to North Britain. "Alas! +what can he do upon that subject?" said Johnson: "Aristotle, Polybius, +Grotius, Puffendorf, and Burlemaqui, have reaped in that field before +him." "He will treat it," said Dr. Rose, "in a new manner." "A new +manner! Buckinger had no hands, and he wrote his name with his toes, at +Charing Cross, for half a crown a piece; that was a new manner of +writing!" Dr. Rose replied: "If that will not satisfy you, I will name a +writer, whom you must allow to be the best in the kingdom." "Who is +that?" "The earl of Bute, when he wrote an order for your pension." +"There, sir," said Johnson, "you have me in the toil: to lord Bute I +must allow whatever praise you claim for him." Ingratitude was no part +of Johnson's character. + +Being now in the possession of a regular income, Johnson left his +chambers in the temple, and, once more, became master of a house in +Johnson's court, Fleet street. Dr. Levet, his friend and physician in +ordinary[u], paid his daily visits, with assiduity; made tea all the +morning, talked what he had to say, and did not expect an answer. Mrs. +Williams had her apartment in the house, and entertained her benefactor +with more enlarged conversation. Chymistry was a part of Johnson's +amusement. For this love of experimental philosophy, sir John Hawkins +thinks an apology necessary. He tells us, with great gravity, that +curiosity was the only object in view; not an intention to grow suddenly +rich by the philosopher's stone, or the transmutation of metals. To +enlarge this circle, Johnson, once more, had recourse to a literary +club. This was at the Turk's head, in Gerard street, Soho, on every +Tuesday evening through the year. The members were, besides himself, the +right honourable Edmund Burke, sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Nugent, Dr. +Goldsmith, the late Mr. Topham Beauclerc, Mr. Langton, Mr. Chamier, sir +J. Hawkins, and some others. Johnson's affection for sir Joshua was +founded on a long acquaintance, and a thorough knowledge of the virtuous +and amiable qualities of that excellent artist. He delighted in the +conversation of Mr. Burke. He met him, for the first time, at Mr. +Garrick's, several years ago. On the next day he said: "I suppose, +Murphy, you are proud of your countryman: 'Cum talis sit, utinam noster +esset!'" From that time, his constant observation was, "that a man of +sense could not meet Mr. Burke, by accident, under a gateway, to avoid a +shower, without being convinced, that he was the first man in England." +Johnson felt not only kindness, but zeal and ardour for his friends. He +did every thing in his power to advance the reputation of Dr. Goldsmith. +He loved him, though he knew his failings, and particularly the leaven +of envy, which corroded the mind of that elegant writer, and made him +impatient, without disguise, of the praises bestowed on any person +whatever. Of this infirmity, which marked Goldsmith's character, Johnson +gave a remarkable instance. It happened that he went with sir Joshua +Reynolds and Goldsmith, to see the fantoccini, which were exhibited, +some years ago, in or near the Haymarket. They admired the curious +mechanism by which the puppets were made to walk the stage, draw a chair +to the table, sit down, write a letter, and perform a variety of other +actions, with such dexterity, that "though nature's journeymen made the +men, they imitated humanity," to the astonishment of the spectator. The +entertainment being over, the three friends retired to a tavern. Johnson +and sir Joshua talked with pleasure of what they had seen; and, says +Johnson, in a tone of admiration: "How the little fellow brandished his +spontoon!" "There is nothing in it," replied Goldsmith, starting up with +impatience, "give me a spontoon; I can do it as well myself." + +Enjoying his amusements at his weekly club, and happy in a state of +independence, Johnson gained, in the year 1765, another resource, which +contributed, more than any thing else, to exempt him from the +solicitudes of life. He was introduced to the late Mr. Thrale and his +family. Mrs. Piozzi has related the fact, and it is, therefore, needless +to repeat it in this place. The author of this narrative looks back to +the share he had in that business, with self-congratulation, since he +knows the tenderness which, from that time, soothed Johnson's cares at +Streatham, and prolonged a valuable life. The subscribers to Shakespeare +began to despair of ever seeing the promised edition. To acquit himself +of this obligation, he went to work unwillingly, but proceeded with +vigour. In the month of October, 1765, Shakespeare was published; and, +in a short time after, the university of Dublin sent over a diploma, in +honourable terms, creating him a doctor of laws. Oxford, in eight or ten +years afterwards, followed the example; and, till then, Johnson never +assumed the title of doctor. In 1766, his constitution seemed to be in a +rapid decline; and that morbid melancholy, which often clouded his +understanding, came upon him with a deeper gloom than ever. Mr. and Mrs. +Thrale paid him a visit in this situation, and found him on his knees, +with Dr. Delap, the rector of Lewes, in Sussex, beseeching God to +continue to him the use of his understanding. Mr. Thrale took him to his +house at Streatham, and Johnson, from that time, became a constant +resident in the family. He went, occasionally, to the club in Gerard +street, but his headquarters were fixed at Streatham. An apartment was +fitted up for him, and the library was greatly enlarged. Parties were +constantly invited from town; and Johnson was every day at an elegant +table, with select and polished company. Whatever could be devised by +Mr. and Mrs. Thrale to promote the happiness, and establish the health +of their guest, was studiously performed from that time to the end of +Mr. Thrale's life. Johnson accompanied the family, in all their summer +excursions, to Brighthelmstone, to Wales, and to Paris. It is but +justice to Mr. Thrale to say, that a more ingenuous frame of mind no man +possessed. His education at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman; +his amiable temper recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his +heart made him a sincere friend. That he was the patron of Johnson, is +an honour to his memory. + +In petty disputes with contemporary writers, or the wits of the age, +Johnson was seldom entangled. A single incident of that kind may not be +unworthy of notice, since it happened with a man of great celebrity in +his time. A number of friends dined with Garrick on a Christmas day. +Foote was then in Ireland. It was said, at table, that the modern +Aristophanes (so Foote was called) had been horsewhipped by a Dublin +apothecary, for mimicking him on the stage. "I wonder," said Garrick, +"that any man should show so much resentment to Foote; he has a patent +for such liberties; nobody ever thought it worth his while to quarrel +with him in London." "I am glad," said Johnson, "to find that the man is +rising in the world." The expression was afterwards repeated to Foote, +who, in return, gave out, that he would produce the Caliban of +literature on the stage. Being informed of this design, Johnson sent +word to Foote: "that the theatre being intended for the reformation of +vice, he would step from the boxes on the stage, and correct him before +the audience." Foote knew the intrepidity of his antagonist, and +abandoned the design. No ill will ensued. Johnson used to say: "that for +broad-faced mirth, Foote had not his equal." + +Dr. Johnson's fame excited the curiosity of the king. His majesty +expressed a desire to see a man of whom extraordinary things were said. +Accordingly, the librarian at Buckingham house invited Johnson to see +that elegant collection of books, at the same time giving a hint of what +was intended. His majesty entered the room, and, among other things, +asked the author, "if he meant to give the world any more of his +compositions." Johnson answered: "that he thought he had written +enough." "And I should think so too," replied his majesty, "if you had +not written so well." + +Though Johnson thought he had written enough, his genius, even in spite +of bodily sluggishness, could not lie still. In 1770 we find him +entering the lists, as a political writer. The flame of discord that +blazed throughout the nation, on the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the +final determination of the house of commons, that Mr. Luttrell was duly +elected by two hundred and six votes, against eleven hundred and +forty-three, spread a general spirit of discontent. To allay the tumult, +Dr. Johnson published the False Alarm. Mrs. Piozzi informs us, "that this +pamphlet was written at her house, between eight o'clock on Wednesday +night and twelve on Thursday night." This celerity has appeared +wonderful to many, and some have doubted the truth. It may, however, be +placed within the bounds of probability. Johnson has observed, that +there are different methods of composition. Virgil was used to pour out +a great number of verses in the morning, and pass the day in retrenching +the exuberances, and correcting inaccuracies; and it was Pope's custom +to write his first thoughts in his first words, and gradually to +amplify, decorate, rectify, and refine them. Others employ, at once, +memory and invention, and, with little intermediate use of the pen, form +and polish large masses by continued meditation, and write their +productions only, when, in their opinion, they have completed them. This +last was Johnson's method. He never took his pen in hand till he had +well weighed his subject, and grasped, in his mind, the sentiments, the +train of argument, and the arrangement of the whole. As he often thought +aloud, he had, perhaps, talked it over to himself. This may account for +that rapidity with which, in general, he despatched his sheets to the +press, without being at the trouble of a fair copy. Whatever may be the +logic or eloquence of the False Alarm, the house of commons have since +erased the resolution from the journals. But whether they have not left +materials for a future controversy may be made a question. + +In 1771, he published another tract, on the subject of Falkland islands. +The design was to show the impropriety of going to war with Spain for an +island, thrown aside from human use, stormy in winter, and barren in +summer. For this work it is apparent, that materials were furnished by +direction of the minister. + +At the approach of the general election in 1774, he wrote a short +discourse, called The Patriot, not with any visible application to Mr. +Wilkes; but to teach the people to reject the leaders of opposition, who +called themselves patriots. In 1775, he undertook a pamphlet of more +importance, namely, Taxation no Tyranny, in answer to the Resolutions +and Address of the American congress. The scope of the argument was, +that distant colonies, which had, in their assemblies, a legislature of +their own, were, notwithstanding, liable to be taxed in a British +parliament, where they had neither peers in one house, nor +representatives in the other. He was of opinion, that this country was +strong enough to enforce obedience. "When an Englishman," he says, "is +told that the Americans shoot up like the hydra, he naturally considers +how the hydra was destroyed." The event has shown how much he and the +minister of that day were mistaken. + +The account of the Tour to the Western Islands of Scotland, which was +undertaken in the autumn of 1773, in company with Mr. Boswell, was not +published till some time in the year 1775. This book has been variously +received; by some extolled for the elegance of the narrative, and the +depth of observation on life and manners; by others, as much condemned, +as a work of avowed hostility to the Scotch nation. The praise was, +beyond all question, fairly deserved; and the censure, on due +examination, will appear hasty and ill founded. That Johnson entertained +some prejudices against the Scotch must not be dissembled. It is true, +as Mr. Boswell says, "that he thought their success in England exceeded +their proportion of real merit, and he could not but see in them that +nationality which no liberal-minded Scotsman will deny." The author of +these memoirs well remembers, that Johnson one day asked him, "have you +observed the difference between your own country impudence and Scotch +impudence?" The answer being in the negative: "then I will tell you," +said Johnson. "The impudence of an Irishman is the impudence of a fly, +that buzzes about you, and you put it away, but it returns again, and +flutters and teases you. The impudence of a Scotsman is the impudence of +a leech, that fixes and sucks your blood." Upon another occasion, this +writer went with him into the shop of Davies, the bookseller, in Russell +street, Covent garden. Davies came running to him, almost out of breath +with joy: "The Scots gentleman is come, sir; his principal wish is to +see you; he is now in the back parlour." "Well, well, I'll see the +gentleman," said Johnson. He walked towards the room. Mr. Boswell was +the person. This writer followed, with no small curiosity. "I find," +said Mr. Boswell, "that I am come to London, at a bad time, when great +popular prejudice has gone forth against us North Britons; but, when I +am talking to you, I am talking to a large and liberal mind, and you +know that I cannot help coming from Scotland." "Sir," said Johnson, "no +more can the rest of your countrymen[x]." + +He had other reasons that helped to alienate him from the natives of +Scotland. Being a cordial well-wisher to the constitution in church and +state, he did not think that Calvin and John Knox were proper founders +of a national religion. He made, however, a wide distinction between the +dissenters of Scotland and the separatists of England. To the former he +imputed no disaffection, no want of loyalty. Their soldiers and their +officers had shed their blood with zeal and courage in the service of +great Britain; and the people, he used to say, were content with their +own established modes of worship, without wishing, in the present age, +to give any disturbance to the church of England. + +This he was, at all times, ready to admit; and, therefore, declared, +that, whenever he found a Scotchman, to whom an Englishman was as a +Scotchman, that Scotchman should be as an Englishman to him. In this, +surely, there was no rancour, no malevolence. The dissenters, on this +side the Tweed, appeared to him in a different light. Their religion, he +frequently said, was too worldly, too political, too restless and +ambitious. The doctrine of cashiering kings, and erecting, on the ruins +of the constitution, a new form of government, which lately issued from +their pulpits, he always thought was, under a calm disguise, the +principle that lay lurking in their hearts. He knew, that a wild +democracy had overturned kings, lords, and commons; and that a set of +republican fanatics, who would not bow at the name of Jesus, had taken +possession of all the livings, and all the parishes in the kingdom. That +those scenes of horror might never be renewed, was the ardent wish of +Dr. Johnson; and, though he apprehended no danger from Scotland, it is +probable, that his dislike of calvinism mingled, sometimes, with his +reflections on the natives of that country. The association of ideas +could not be easily broken; but it is well known, that he loved and +respected many gentlemen from that part of the island. Dr. Robertson's +History of Scotland, and Dr. Beattie's Essays, were subjects of his +constant praise. Mr. Boswell, Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, Andrew Millar, Mr. +Hamilton, the printer, and the late Mr. Strahan, were among his most +intimate friends. Many others might be added to the list. He scorned to +enter Scotland as a spy; though Hawkins, his biographer, and the +professing defender of his fame, allowed himself leave to represent him +in that ignoble character. He went into Scotland to survey men and +manners. Antiquities, fossils, and minerals, were not within his +province. He did not visit that country to settle the station of Roman +camps, or the spot, where Galgacus fought the last battle for public +liberty. The people, their customs, and the progress of literature, were +his objects. The civilities which he received in the course of his tour, +have been repaid with grateful acknowledgment, and, generally, with +great elegance of expression. His crime is, that he found the country +bare of trees, and he has stated the fact. This, Mr. Boswell, in his +tour to the Hebrides, has told us, was resented, by his countrymen, with +anger inflamed to rancour; but he admits that there are few trees on the +east side of Scotland. Mr. Pennant, in his tour, says, that, in some +parts of the eastern side of the country, he saw several large +plantations of pine, planted by gentlemen near their seats; and, in this +respect, such a laudable spirit prevails, that, in another half-century, +it never shall be said, "To spy the nakedness of the land are you come." +Johnson could not wait for that half-century, and, therefore, mentioned +things as he found them. If, in any thing, he has been mistaken, he has +made a fair apology, in the last paragraph of his book, avowing with +candour: "That he may have been surprised by modes of life, and +appearances of nature, that are familiar to men of wider survey, and +more varied conversation. Novelty and ignorance must always be +reciprocal: and he is conscious that his thoughts on national manners, +are the thoughts of one who has seen but little." + +The poems of Ossian made a part of Johnson's inquiry, during his +residence in Scotland and the Hebrides. On his return to England, +November, 1773, a storm seemed to be gathering over his head; but the +cloud never burst, and the thunder never fell.--Ossian, it is well +known, was presented to the public, as a translation from the Erse; but +that this was a fraud, Johnson declared, without hesitation. "The Erse," +he says, "was always oral only, and never a written language. The Welsh +and the Irish were more cultivated. In Erse, there was not in the world +a single manuscript a hundred years old. Martin, who, in the last +century, published an account of the Western Islands, mentions Irish, +but never Erse manuscripts, to be found in the islands in his time. The +bards could not read; if they could, they might, probably, have written. +But the bard was a barbarian among barbarians, and, knowing nothing +himself, lived with others that knew no more. If there is a manuscript +from which the translation was made, in what age was it written, and +where is it? If it was collected from oral recitation, it could only be +in detached parts, and scattered fragments: the whole is too long to be +remembered. Who put it together in its present form?" For these, and +such like reasons, Johnson calls the whole an imposture. He adds, "The +editor, or author, never could show the original, nor can it be shown by +any other. To revenge reasonable incredulity, by refusing evidence, is a +degree of insolence with which the world is not yet acquainted; and +stubborn audacity is the last refuge of guilt." This reasoning carries +with it great weight. It roused the resentment of Mr. Macpherson. He +sent a threatening letter to the author; and Johnson answered him in the +rough phrase of stern defiance. The two heroes frowned at a distance, +but never came to action. + +In the year 1777, the misfortunes of Dr. Dodd excited his compassion. He +wrote a speech for that unhappy man, when called up to receive judgment +of death; besides two petitions, one to the king, and another to the +queen; and a sermon to be preached by Dodd to the convicts in Newgate. +It may appear trifling to add, that, about the same time, he wrote a +prologue to the comedy of a Word to the Wise, written by Hugh Kelly. The +play, some years before, had been damned by a party on the first night. +It was revived for the benefit of the author's widow. Mrs. Piozzi +relates, that when Johnson was rallied for these exertions, so close to +one another, his answer was, "When they come to me with a dying parson, +and a dead stay-maker, what can a man do?" + +We come now to the last of his literary labours. At the request of the +booksellers, he undertook the Lives of the Poets. The first publication +was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of +that year, he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the +Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily, +unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place, +he hopes they are written in such a manner, as may tend to the promotion +of piety. That the history of so many men, who, in their different +degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written +recently after their deaths, seems to be an omission that does no honour +to the republic of letters. Their contemporaries, in general, looked on +with calm indifference, and suffered wit and genius to vanish out of the +world in total silence, unregarded and unlamented. Was there no friend +to pay the tribute of a tear? No just observer of life to record the +virtues of the deceased? Was even envy silent? It seemed to have been +agreed, that if an author's works survived, the history of the man was +to give no moral lesson to after-ages. If tradition told us that Ben +Jonson went to the Devil tavern; that Shakespeare stole deer, and held +the stirrup at play-house doors; that Dryden frequented Button's +coffee-house; curiosity was lulled asleep, and biography forgot the best +part of her function, which is, to instruct mankind by examples taken from +the school of life. This task remained for Dr. Johnson, when years had +rolled away; when the channels of information were, for the most part, +choked up, and little remained besides doubtful anecdote, uncertain +tradition, and vague report. + + "Nunc situs informis premit et deserta vetustas." + +The value of biography has been better understood in other ages, and in +other countries. Tacitus informs us, that to record the lives and +characters of illustrious men, was the practice of the Roman authors, in +the early periods of the republic. In France, the example has been +followed. Fontenelle, D'Alembert, and monsieur Thomas, have left models +in this kind of composition. They have embalmed the dead. But it is +true, that they had incitements and advantages, even at a distant day, +which could not, by any diligence, be obtained by Dr. Johnson. The wits +of France had ample materials. They lived in a nation of critics, who +had, at heart, the honour done to their country by their poets, their +heroes, and their philosophers. They had, besides, an academy of +belles-lettres, where genius was cultivated, refined, and encouraged. +They had the tracts, the essays, and dissertations, which remain in the +memoirs of the academy, and they had the speeches of the several members, +delivered at their first admission to a seat in that learned assembly. +In those speeches the new academician did ample justice to the memory of +his predecessor; and though his harangue was decorated with the colours +of eloquence, and was, for that reason, called panegyric, yet, being +pronounced before qualified judges, who knew the talents, the conduct, +and morals of the deceased, the speaker could not, with propriety, +wander into the regions of fiction. The truth was known, before it was +adorned. The academy saw the marble before the artist polished it. But +this country has had no academy of literature. The public mind, for +centuries, has been engrossed by party and faction; "by the madness of +many for the gain of a few;" by civil wars, religious dissensions, trade +and commerce, and the arts of accumulating wealth. Amidst such +attentions, who can wonder that cold praise has been often the only +reward of merit? In this country, Dr. Nathaniel Hodges, who, like the +good bishop of Marseilles, drew purer breath amidst the contagion of the +plague in London, and, during the whole time, continued in the city, +administering medical assistance, was suffered, as Johnson used to +relate, with tears in his eyes, to die for debt, in a gaol. In this +country, the man who brought the New river to London, was ruined by that +noble project; and, in this country, Otway died for want, on Tower hill; +Butler, the great author of Hudibras, whose name can only die with the +English language, was left to languish in poverty; the particulars of +his life almost unknown, and scarce a vestige of him left, except his +immortal poem. Had there been an academy of literature, the lives, at +least, of those celebrated persons, would have been written for the +benefit of posterity. Swift, it seems, had the idea of such an +institution, and proposed it to lord Oxford; but whig and tory were more +important objects. It is needless to dissemble, that Dr. Johnson, in the +life of Roscommon, talks of the inutility of such a project. "In this +country," he says, "an academy could be expected to do but little. If an +academician's place were profitable, it would be given by interest; if +attendance were gratuitous, it would be rarely paid, and no man would +endure the least disgust. Unanimity is impossible, and debate would +separate the assembly." To this it may be sufficient to answer, that the +Royal society has not been dissolved by sullen disgust; and the modern +academy, at Somerset house, has already performed much, and promises +more. Unanimity is not necessary to such an assembly. On the contrary, +by difference of opinion, and collision of sentiment, the cause of +literature would thrive and flourish. The true principles of criticism, +the secret of fine writing, the investigation of antiquities, and other +interesting subjects, might occasion a clash of opinions; but, in that +contention, truth would receive illustration, and the essays of the +several members would supply the memoirs of the academy. "But," says Dr. +Johnson, "suppose the philological decree made and promulgated, what +would be its authority? In absolute government there is, sometimes, a +general reverence paid to all that has the sanction of power the +countenance of greatness.--How little this is the state of our country, +needs not to be told. The edicts of an English academy would, probably, +be read by many, only that they may be sure to disobey them. The present +manners of the nation would deride authority, and, therefore, nothing is +left, but that every writer should criticise himself." This, surely, is +not conclusive. It is by the standard of the best writers, that every +man settles, for himself, his plan of legitimate composition; and since +the authority of superior genius is acknowledged, that authority, which +the individual obtains, would not be lessened by an association with +others of distinguished ability. It may, therefore, be inferred, that an +academy of literature would be an establishment highly useful, and an +honour to literature. In such an institution, profitable places would +not be wanted. "Vatis avarus haud facile est animus;" and the minister, +who shall find leisure, from party and faction, to carry such a scheme +into execution, will, in all probability, be respected by posterity, as +the Maecenas of letters. + +We now take leave of Dr. Johnson, as an author. Four volumes of his +Lives of the Poets were published in 1778, and the work was completed in +1781. Should biography fall again into disuse, there will not always be +a Johnson to look back through a century, and give a body of critical +and moral instruction. In April, 1781, he lost his friend Mr. Thrale. +His own words, in his diary, will best tell that melancholy event. "On +Wednesday, the 11th of April, was buried my dear friend Mr. Thrale, who +died on Wednesday, the 4th, and with him were buried many of my hopes +and pleasures. About five, I think, on Wednesday morning, he expired. I +felt almost the last flutter of his pulse, and looked, for the last +time, upon the face, that, for fifteen years before, had never been +turned upon me but with respect and benignity. Farewell: may God, that +delighteth in mercy, have had mercy on thee! I had constantly prayed for +him before his death. The decease of him, from whose friendship I had +obtained many opportunities of amusement, and to whom I turned my +thoughts, as to a refuge from misfortunes, has left me heavy. But my +business is with myself."--From the close of his last work, the malady +that persecuted him through life came upon him with alarming severity, +and his constitution declined apace. In 1782, his old friend, Levet, +expired, without warning and without a groan. Events like these reminded +Johnson of his own mortality. He continued his visits to Mrs. Thrale, at +Streatham, to the 7th day of October, 1782, when, having first composed +a prayer for the happiness of a family, with whom he had, for many +years, enjoyed the pleasures and comforts of life, he removed to his own +house in town. He says he was up early in the morning, and read +fortuitously in the Gospel, "which was his parting use of the library." +The merit of the family is manifested by the sense he had of it, and we +see his heart overflowing with gratitude. He leaves the place with +regret, and "casts a lingering look behind." + +The few remaining occurrences may be soon despatched. In the month of +June, 1783, Johnson had a paralytic stroke, which affected his speech +only. He wrote to Dr. Taylor, of Westminster; and to his friend Mr. +Allen, the printer, who lived at the next door. Dr. Brocklesby arrived +in a short time, and by his care, and that of Dr. Heberden, Johnson soon +recovered. During his illness, the writer of this narrative visited him, +and found him reading Dr. Watson's Chymistry. Articulating with +difficulty, he said, "From this book, he who knows nothing may learn a +great deal; and he who knows, will be pleased to find his knowledge +recalled to his mind in a manner highly pleasing." In the month of +August he set out for Lichfield, on a visit to Mrs. Lucy Porter, the +daughter of his wife by her first husband; and, in his way back, paid +his respects to Dr. Adams, at Oxford. Mrs. Williams died, at his house +in Bolt court, in the month of September, during his absence. This was +another shock to a mind like his, ever agitated by the thoughts of +futurity. The contemplation of his own approaching end was constantly +before his eyes; and the prospect of death, he declared, was terrible. +For many years, when he was not disposed to enter into the conversation +going forward, whoever sat near his chair, might hear him repeating, +from Shakespeare, + + "Aye, but to die, and go we know not where; + To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; + This sensible warm motion to become + A kneaded clod, and the delighted spirit + To bathe in fiery floods"-- + +And from Milton, + +--"Who would lose, + For fear of pain, this intellectual being?" + +By the death of Mrs. Williams he was left in a state of destitution, +with nobody but Frank, his black servant, to sooth his anxious moments. +In November, 1783, he was swelled from head to foot with a dropsy. Dr. +Brocklesby, with that benevolence with which he always assists his +friends, paid his visits with assiduity. The medicines prescribed were +so efficacious, that, in a few days, Johnson, while he was offering up +his prayers, was suddenly obliged to rise, and, in the course of the +day, discharged twenty pints of water. + +Johnson, being eased of his dropsy, began to entertain hopes that the +vigour of his constitution was not entirely broken. For the sake of +conversing with his friends, he established a conversation club, to meet +on every Wednesday evening; and, to serve a man whom he had known in Mr. +Thrale's household for many years, the place was fixed at his house, in +Essex street, near the Temple. To answer the malignant remarks of sir +John Hawkins, on this subject, were a wretched waste of time. Professing +to be Johnson's friend, that biographer has raised more objections to +his character, than all the enemies to that excellent man. Sir John had +a root of bitterness that "put rancours in the vessel of his peace." +Fielding, he says, was the inventor of a cant phrase, "Goodness of +heart, which means little more than the virtue of a horse or a dog." He +should have known, that kind affections are the essence of virtue: they +are the will of God implanted in our nature, to aid and strengthen moral +obligation; they incite to action: a sense of benevolence is no less +necessary than a sense of duty. Good affections are an ornament, not +only to an author, but to his writings. He who shows himself upon a cold +scent for opportunities to bark and snarl throughout a volume of six +hundred pages, may, if he will, pretend to moralise; but goodness of +heart, or, to use that politer phrase, "the virtue of a horse or a dog," +would redound more to his honour. But sir John is no more: our business +is with Johnson. The members of his club were respectable for their +rank, their talents, and their literature. They attended with +punctuality, till about Midsummer, 1784, when, with some appearance of +health, Johnson went into Derbyshire, and thence to Lichfield. While he +was in that part of the world, his friends, in town, were labouring for +his benefit. The air of a more southern climate, they thought, might +prolong a valuable life. But a pension of three hundred pounds a year +was a slender fund for a travelling valetudinarian, and it was not then +known that he had saved a moderate sum of money. Mr. Boswell and sir +Joshua Reynolds undertook to solicit the patronage of the chancellor. +With lord Thurlow, while he was at the bar, Johnson was well acquainted. +He was often heard to say, "Thurlow is a man of such vigour of mind, +that I never knew I was to meet him, but--I was going to say, I was +afraid, but that would not be true, for I never was afraid of any man; +but I never knew that I was to meet Thurlow, but I knew I had something +to encounter." The chancellor undertook to recommend Johnson's case; but +without success. To protract, if possible, the days of a man, whom he +respected, he offered to advance the sum of five hundred pounds. Being +informed of this at Lichfield, Johnson wrote the following letter: + + "MY LORD,--After a long, and not inattentive observation of mankind, + the generosity of your lordship's offer raises in me not less wonder + than gratitude. Bounty, so liberally bestowed, I should gladly + receive, if my condition made it necessary; for to such a mind who + would not be proud to own his obligations? But it has pleased God to + restore me to so great a measure of health, that, if I should now + appropriate so much of a fortune destined to do good, I could not + escape from myself the charge of advancing a false claim. My journey + to the continent, though I once thought it necessary, was never much + encouraged by my physicians; and I was very desirous that your + lordship should be told it, by sir Joshua Reynolds, as an event very + uncertain; for, if I grew much better, I should not be willing; if + much worse, I should not be able to migrate. Your lordship was first + solicited without my knowledge; but when I was told that you were + pleased to honour me with your patronage, I did not expect to hear of + a refusal; yet, as I have had no long time to brood hopes, and have + not rioted in imaginary opulence, this cold reception has been scarce + a disappointment; and from your lordship's kindness I have received a + benefit which only men, like you, are able to bestow. I shall now live + _mihi carior_, with a higher opinion of my own merit. + + I am, my lord, + + Your lordship's most obliged, + + Most grateful, and most humble servant, + + SAMUEL JOHNSON. + + September, 1784." + +We have, in this instance, the exertion of two congenial minds; one, +with a generous impulse, relieving merit in distress; and the other, by +gratitude and dignity of sentiment, rising to an equal elevation. + +It seems, however, that greatness of mind is not confined to greatness +of rank. Dr. Brocklesby was not content to assist with his medical art; +he resolved to minister to his patient's mind, and pluck from his memory +the sorrow which the late refusal from a high quarter might occasion. To +enable him to visit the south of France, in pursuit of health, he +offered, from his own funds, an annuity of one hundred pounds, payable +quarterly. This was a sweet oblivious antidote, but it was not accepted, +for the reasons assigned to the chancellor. The proposal, however, will +do honour to Dr. Brocklesby, as long as liberal sentiment shall be +ranked among the social virtues. + +In the month of October, 1784, we find Dr. Johnson corresponding with +Mr. Nichols, the intelligent compiler of the Gentleman's Magazine, and, +in the languor of sickness, still desirous to contribute all in his +power to the advancement of science and useful knowledge. He says, in a +letter to that gentleman, dated Lichfield, October 20, that "he should +be glad to give so skilful a lover of antiquities any information." He +adds, "At Ashbourne, where I had very little company, I had the luck to +borrow Mr. Bowyer's Life, a book, so full of contemporary history, that +a literary man must find some of his old friends. I thought that I +could, now and then, have told you some hints worth your notice: we, +perhaps, may talk a life over. I hope we shall be much together. You +must now be to me what you were before, and what dear Mr. Allen was +besides. He was taken unexpectedly away, but, I think, he was a very +good man. I have made very little progress in recovery. I am very weak, +and very sleepless; but I live on and hope." + +In that languid condition he arrived, on the 16th of November, at his +house in Bolt court, there to end his days. He laboured with the dropsy +and an asthma. He was attended by Dr. Heberden, Dr. Warren, Dr. +Brocklesby, Dr. Butter, and Mr. Cruikshank, the eminent surgeon. +Eternity presented to his mind an awful prospect, and, with as much +virtue as, perhaps, ever is the lot of man, he shuddered at the thought +of his dissolution. His friends awakened the comfortable reflection of a +well-spent life; and, as his end drew near, they had the satisfaction of +seeing him composed, and even cheerful, insomuch that he was able, in +the course of his restless nights, to make translations of Greek +epigrams from the Anthologia; and to compose a Latin epitaph for his +father, his mother, and his brother Nathaniel. He meditated, at the same +time, a Latin inscription to the memory of Garrick; but his vigour was +exhausted. + +His love of literature was a passion that stuck to his last sand. Seven +days before his death he wrote the following letter to his friend Mr. +Nichols: + + + + "SIR,--The late learned Mr. Swinton, of Oxford, having one day + remarked, that one man, meaning, I suppose, no man but himself, could + assign all the parts of the Ancient Universal History to their proper + authors, at the request of sir Robert Chambers, or myself, gave the + account which I now transmit to you, in his own hand, being willing + that of so great a work the history should be known, and that each + writer should receive his due proportion of praise from posterity. + + I recommend to you to preserve this scrap of literary intelligence, in + Mr. Swinton's own hand, or to deposit it in the Museum[y], that the + veracity of this account may never be doubted. + + I am, sir, + + Your most humble servant, + + SAM. JOHNSON. + + Dec. 6, 1784." + + Mr. Swinton. + + The History of the Carthaginians. + --Numidians. + --Mauritanians. + --Gaetulians. + --Garamantes. + --Melano-Gaetulians. + --Nigritae. + --Cyrenaica. + --Marmarica. + --Regio Syrtica. + --Turks, Tartars, and Moguls. + --Indians. + --Chinese. + The Dissertation on the peopling of America. + The Dissertation on the Independency of the Arabs. + The Cosmogony, and a small part of the History immediately following. + By Mr. Sale. + To the Birth of Abraham. Chiefly by Mr. Shelvock. + History of the Jews, Gauls, and Spaniards. By Mr. Psalmanazai. + Xenophon's Retreat. By the same. + History of the Persians, and the Constantinopolitan Empire. By Dr. + Campbell. + History of the Romans. By Mr. Bower[z]. + +On the morning of December 7, Dr. Johnson requested to see Mr. Nichols. +A few days before, he had borrowed some of the early volumes of the +magazine, with a professed intention to point out the pieces which he +had written in that collection. The books lay on the table, with many +leaves doubled down, and, in particular, those which contained his share +in the parliamentary debates. Such was the goodness of Johnson's heart, +that he then declared, that "those debates were the only parts of his +writings which gave him any compunction: but that, at the time he wrote +them, he had no conception that he was imposing upon the world, though +they were, frequently, written from very slender materials, and often +from none at all, the mere coinage of his own imagination." He added, +"that he never wrote any part of his work with equal velocity." "Three +columns of the magazine in an hour," he said, "was no uncommon effort; +which was faster than most persons could have transcribed that quantity. +In one day, in particular, and that not a very long one, he wrote twelve +pages, more in quantity than ever he wrote at any other time, except in +the Life of Savage, of which forty-eight pages, in octavo, were the +production of one long day, including a part of the night." + +In the course of the conversation, he asked whether any of the family of +Faden, the printer, were living. Being told that the geographer, near +Charing Cross, was Faden's son, he said, after a short pause, "I +borrowed a guinea of his father near thirty years ago; be so good as to +take this, and pay it for me." + +Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnson +recollected another debt of ten pounds, which he had borrowed from his +friend, Mr. Hamilton, the printer, about twenty years before. He sent +the money to Mr. Hamilton, at his house in Bedford row, with an apology +for the length of time. The reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the +message, about four or five days before Johnson breathed his last. + +Mr. Sastres, whom Dr. Johnson esteemed and mentioned in his will, +entered the room, during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he saw +him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a tone of lamentation, called +out, "Jam moriturus!" But the love of life was still an active +principle. Feeling himself swelled with the dropsy, he conceived that, +by incisions in his legs, the water might be discharged. Mr. Cruikshank +apprehended that a mortification might be the consequence; but, to +appease a distempered fancy, he gently lanced the surface. Johnson cried +out, "Deeper, deeper! I want length of life, and you are afraid of +giving me pain, which I do not value." + +On the 8th of December, the reverend Mr. Strahan drew his will, by +which, after a few legacies, the residue, amounting to about fifteen +hundred pounds, was bequeathed to Frank, the black servant, formerly +consigned to the testator by his friend Dr. Bathurst. + +The history of a death-bed is painful. Mr. Strahan informs us, that the +strength of religion prevailed against the infirmity of nature; and his +foreboding dread of the divine justice subsided into a pious trust, and +humble hope of mercy, at the throne of grace. On Monday, the 13th day of +December, the last of his existence on this side the grave, the desire +of life returned with all its former vehemence. He still imagined, that, +by puncturing his legs, relief might be obtained. At eight in the +morning he tried the experiment, but no water followed. In an hour or +two after, he fell into a doze, and about seven in the evening expired +without a groan. + +On the 20th of the month his remains, with due solemnities, and a +numerous attendance of his friends, were buried in Westminster abbey, +near the foot of Shakespeare's monument, and close to the grave of the +late Mr. Garrick. The funeral service was read by his friend, Dr. +Taylor. + +A black marble over his grave has the following inscription: + + SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. + obiit XIII die Decembris, + Anno Domini + MDCCLXXXIV. + Aetatis suae LXXV. + +If we now look back, as from an eminence, to view the scenes of life, +and the literary labours in which Dr. Johnson was engaged, we may be +able to delineate the features of the man, and to form an estimate of +his genius. + +As a man, Dr. Johnson stands displayed in open daylight. Nothing remains +undiscovered. Whatever he said is known; and without allowing him the +usual privilege of hazarding sentiments, and advancing positions for +mere amusement, or the pleasure of discussion, criticism has endeavoured +to make him answerable for what, perhaps, he never seriously thought. +His diary, which has been printed, discovers still more. We have before +us the very heart of the man, with all his inward consciousness; and yet +neither in the open paths of life, nor in his secret recesses, has any +one vice been discovered. We see him reviewing every year of his life, +and severely censuring himself, for not keeping resolutions, which +morbid melancholy, and other bodily infirmities, rendered impracticable. +We see him, for every little defect, imposing on himself voluntary +penance, going through the day with only one cup of tea without milk, +and to the last, amidst paroxysms and remissions of illness, forming +plans of study and resolutions to amend his life[aa]. Many of his +scruples may be called weaknesses; but they are the weaknesses of a +good, a pious, and most excellent man. + +His person, it is well known, was large and unwieldy. His nerves were +affected by that disorder, for which, at two years of age, he was +presented to the royal touch. His head shook, and involuntary motions +made it uncertain that his legs and arms would, even at a tea-table, +remain in their proper place. A person of lord Chesterfield's delicacy +might, in his company, be in a fever. He would, sometimes, of his own +accord, do things inconsistent with the established modes of behaviour. +Sitting at table with the celebrated Mrs. Cholmondeley, who exerted +herself to circulate the subscription for Shakespeare, he took hold of +her hand, in the middle of dinner, and held it close to his eye, +wondering at the delicacy and whiteness, till, with a smile, she asked, +"Will he give it to me again, when he has done with it?" The exteriors +of politeness did not belong to Johnson. Even that civility, which +proceeds, or ought to proceed, from the mind, was sometimes violated. +His morbid melancholy had an effect on his temper; his passions were +irritable; and the pride of science, as well as of a fierce independent +spirit, inflamed him, on some occasions, above all bounds of moderation. +Though not in the shade of academic bowers, he led a scholastic life; +and the habit of pronouncing decisions to his friends and visitors, gave +him a dictatorial manner, which was much enforced by a voice naturally +loud, and often overstretched. Metaphysical discussion, moral theory, +systems of religion, and anecdotes of literature, were his favourite +topics. General history had little of his regard. Biography was his +delight. The proper study of mankind is man. Sooner than hear of the +Punic war, he would be rude to the person that introduced the subject. + +Johnson was born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logic +are said to be of use. In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved +argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute +discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be +refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision, both in idea and +expression, almost unequalled. When he chose, by apt illustration, to +place the argument of his adversary in a ludicrous light, one was almost +inclined to think ridicule the test of truth. He was surprised to be +told, but it is certainly true, that, with great powers of mind, wit and +humour were his shining talents. That he often argued for the sake of +triumph over his adversary, cannot be dissembled. Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, +has been heard to tell of a friend of his, who thanked him for +introducing him to Dr. Johnson, as he had been convinced, in the course +of a long dispute, that an opinion, which he had embraced as a settled +truth, was no better than a vulgar error. This being reported to +Johnson, "Nay," said he, "do not let him be thankful, for he was right, +and I was wrong." Like his uncle Andrew, in the ring at Smithfield, +Johnson, in a circle of disputants, was determined neither to be thrown +nor conquered. Notwithstanding all his piety, self-government or the +command of his passions in conversation, does not seem to have been +among his attainments. Whenever he thought the contention was for +superiority, he has been known to break out with violence, and even +ferocity. When the fray was over, he generally softened into repentance, +and, by conciliating measures, took care that no animosity should be +left rankling in the breast of his antagonist. Of this defect he seems +to have been conscious. In a letter to Mrs. Thrale, he says, "Poor +Baretti! do not quarrel with him; to neglect him a little will be +sufficient. He means only to be frank and manly and independent, and, +perhaps, as you say, a little wise. To be frank, he thinks, is to be +cynical; and to be independent, is to be rude. Forgive him, dearest +lady, the rather, because of his misbehaviour, I am afraid, he learned +part of me. I hope to set him, hereafter, a better example." For his own +intolerant and over-bearing spirit he apologized, by observing, that it +had done some good; obscenity and impiety were repressed in his company. + +It was late in life, before he had the habit of mixing, otherwise than +occasionally, with polite company. At Mr. Thrale's he saw a constant +succession of well-accomplished visiters. In that society he began to +wear off the rugged points of his own character. He saw the advantages +of mutual civility, and endeavoured to profit by the models before him. +He aimed at what has been called, by Swift, the "lesser morals," and by +Cicero, "minores virtutes." His endeavour, though new and late, gave +pleasure to all his acquaintance. Men were glad to see that he was +willing to be communicative on equal terms and reciprocal complacence. +The time was then expected, when he was to cease being what George +Garrick, brother to the celebrated actor, called him, the first time he +heard him converse, "a tremendous companion." He certainly wished to be +polite, and even thought himself so; but his civility still retained +something uncouth and harsh. His manners took a milder tone, but the +endeavour was too palpably seen. He laboured even in trifles. He was a +giant gaining a purchase to lift a feather. + +It is observed, by the younger Pliny, that "in the confines of virtue +and great qualities, there are, generally, vices of an opposite nature." +In Dr. Johnson not one ingredient can take the name of vice. From his +attainments in literature, grew the pride of knowledge; and from his +powers of reasoning, the love of disputation and the vain glory of +superior vigour.--His piety, in some instances, bordered on +superstition. He was willing to believe in preternatural agency, and +thought it not more strange, that there should be evil spirits than evil +men. Even the question about second sight held him in suspense. "Second +sight," Mr. Pennant tells us, "is a power of seeing images impressed on +the organs of sight, by the power of fancy; or on the fancy, by the +disordered spirits operating on the mind. It is the faculty of seeing +spectres or visions, which represent an event actually passing at a +distance, or likely to happen at a future day. In 1771, a gentleman, the +last who was supposed to be possessed of this faculty, had a boat at +sea, in a tempestuous night, and, being anxious for his freight, +suddenly started up, and said his men would be drowned, for he had seen +them pass before him with wet garments and dropping locks. The event +corresponded with his disordered fancy. And thus," continues Mr. +Pennant, "a distempered imagination, clouded with anxiety, may make an +impression on the spirits; as persons, restless, and troubled with +indignation, see various forms and figures, while they lie awake in +bed." This is what Dr. Johnson was not willing to reject. He wished for +some positive proof of communications with another world. His +benevolence embraced the whole race of man, and yet was tinctured with +particular prejudices. He was pleased with the minister in the isle of +Skie, and loved him so much, that he began to wish him not a +presbyterian. To that body of dissenters his zeal for the established +church, made him, in some degree, an adversary; and his attachment to a +mixed and limited monarchy, led him to declare open war against what he +called a sullen republican. He would rather praise a man of Oxford than +of Cambridge. He disliked a whig, and loved a tory. These were the +shades of his character, which it has been the business of certain +party-writers to represent in the darkest colours. + +Since virtue, or moral goodness, consists in a just conformity of our +actions to the relations, in which we stand to the supreme being and to +our fellow-creatures, where shall we find a man who has been, or +endeavoured to be, more diligent in the discharge of those essential +duties? His first prayer was composed in 1738; he continued those +fervent ejaculations of piety to the end of his life. In his Meditations +we see him scrutinizing himself with severity, and aiming at perfection +unattainable by man. His duty to his neighbour consisted in universal +benevolence, and a constant aim at the production of happiness. Who was +more sincere and steady in his friendships? It has been said, that there +was no real affection between him and Garrick. On the part of the +latter, there might be some corrosions of jealousy. The character of +Prospero, in the Rambler, No. 200, was, beyond all question, occasioned +by Garrick's ostentatious display of furniture and Dresden china. It was +surely fair to take, from this incident, a hint for a moral essay; and, +though no more was intended, Garrick, we are told, remembered it with +uneasiness. He was also hurt, that his Lichfield friend did not think so +highly of his dramatic art, as the rest of the world. The fact was, +Johnson could not see the passions, as they rose, and chased one +another, in the varied features of that expressive face; and, by his own +manner of reciting verses, which was wonderfully impressive, he plainly +showed, that he thought, there was too much of artificial tone and +measured cadence, in the declamation of the theatre. The present writer +well remembers being in conversation with Dr. Johnson, near the side of +the scenes, during the tragedy of King Lear: when Garrick came off the +stage, he said, "You two talk so loud, you destroy all my feelings." +"Prithee," replied Johnson, "do not talk of feelings, Punch has no +feelings." This seems to have been his settled opinion; admirable as +Garrick's imitation of nature always was, Johnson thought it no better +than mere mimickry. Yet, it is certain, that he esteemed and loved +Garrick; that he dwelt with pleasure on his praise; and used to declare, +that he deserved his great success, because, on all applications for +charity, he gave more than was asked. After Garrick's death, he never +talked of him, without a tear in his eye. He offered, if Mrs. Garrick +would desire it of him, to be the editor of his works, and the historian +of his life[bb]. It has been mentioned, that, on his death-bed, he +thought of writing a Latin inscription to the memory of his friend. +Numbers are still living who know these facts, and still remember, with +gratitude, the friendship which he showed to them, with unaltered +affection, for a number of years. His humanity and generosity, in +proportion to his slender income, were unbounded. It has been truly +said, that the lame, the blind, and the sorrowful, found, in his house, +a sure retreat. A strict adherence to truth he considered as a sacred +obligation, insomuch that, in relating the most minute anecdote, he +would not allow himself the smallest addition to embellish his story. +The late Mr. Tyers, who knew Dr. Johnson intimately, observed, "that he +always talked, as if he was talking upon oath." + +After a long acquaintance with this excellent man, and an attentive +retrospect to his whole conduct, such is the light in which he appears +to the writer of this essay. The following lines of Horace, may be +deemed his picture in miniature: + + "Iracundior est paulo? minus aptus acutis + Naribus horum hominum? rideri possit, eo quod + Rusticius tonso toga defluit, et male laxus + In pede calceus haeret? At est bonus, ut melior vir + Non alius quisquam: at tibi amicus: at ingenium ingens + Inculto latet hoc sub corpore." + + "Your friend is passionate, perhaps unfit + For the brisk petulance of modern wit. + His hair ill-cut, his robe, that awkward flows, + Or his large shoes, to raillery expose + The man you love; yet is he not possess'd + Of virtues, with which very few are blest? + While underneath this rude, uncouth disguise, + A genius of extensive knowledge lies." + +Francis's Hor. book i. sat. 3. + +It remains to give a review of Johnson's works; and this, it is +imagined, will not be unwelcome to the reader. + +Like Milton and Addison, he seems to have been fond of his Latin poetry. +Those compositions show, that he was an early scholar; but his verses +have not the graceful ease, that gave so much suavity to the poems of +Addison. The translation of the Messiah labours under two disadvantages: +it is first to be compared with Pope's inimitable performance, and +afterwards with the Pollio of Virgil. It may appear trifling to remark, +that he has made the letter _o_, in the word _virgo_, long and short in +the same line: "Virgo, virgo parit." But the translation has great +merit, and some admirable lines. In the odes there is a sweet +flexibility, particularly--to his worthy friend Dr. Lawrence; on himself +at the theatre, March 8, 1771; the ode in the isle of Skie; and that to +Mrs. Thrale, from the same place. + +His English poetry is such as leaves room to think, if he had devoted +himself to the muses, that he would have been the rival of Pope. His +first production, in this kind, was London, a poem in imitation of the +third satire of Juvenal. The vices of the metropolis are placed in the +room of ancient manners. The author had heated his mind with the ardour +of Juvenal, and, having the skill to polish his numbers, he became a +sharp accuser of the times. The Vanity of Human Wishes, is an imitation +of the tenth satire of the same author. Though it is translated by +Dryden, Johnson's imitation approaches nearest to the spirit of the +original. The subject is taken from the Alcibiades of Plato, and has an +intermixture of the sentiments of Socrates, concerning the object of +prayers offered up to the deity. The general proposition is, that good +and evil are so little understood by mankind, that their wishes, when +granted, are always destructive. This is exemplified in a variety of +instances, such as riches, state-preferment, eloquence, military glory, +long life, and the advantages of form and beauty. Juvenal's conclusion +is worthy of a christian poet, and such a pen as Johnson's. "Let us," he +says, "leave it to the gods to judge what is fittest for us. Man is +dearer to his creator than to himself. If we must pray for special +favour, let it be for a sound mind in a sound body. Let us pray for +fortitude, that we may think the labours of Hercules, and all his +sufferings, preferable to a life of luxury, and the soft repose of +Sardanapalus. This is a blessing within the reach of every man; this we +can give ourselves. It is virtue, and virtue only, that can make us +happy." In the translation, the zeal of the christian conspired with the +warmth and energy of the poet; but Juvenal is not eclipsed. For the +various characters in the original, the reader is pleased, in the +English poem, to meet with cardinal Wolsey, Buckingham stabbed by +Felton, lord Strafford, Clarendon, Charles the twelfth of Sweden; and +for Tully and Demosthenes, Lydiat, Galileo, and archbishop Laud. It is +owing to Johnson's delight in biography, that the name of Lydiat is +called forth from obscurity. It may, therefore, not be useless to tell, +that Lydiat was a learned divine and mathematician in the beginning of +the last century. He attacked the doctrine of Aristotle and Scaliger, +and wrote a number of sermons on the harmony of the evangelists. With +all his merit, he lay in the prison of Bocardo, at Oxford, till bishop +Usher, Laud, and others, paid his debts. He petitioned Charles the first +to be sent to Ethiopia, to procure manuscripts. Having spoken in favour +of monarchy and bishops, he was plundered by the puritans, and twice +carried away, a prisoner, from his rectory. He died, very poor, in 1646. + +The tragedy of Irene is founded on a passage in Knolles's History of the +Turks; an author highly commended in the Rambler, No. 122. An incident +in the life of Mahomet the great, first emperor of the Turks, is the +hinge on which the fable is made to move. The substance of the story is +shortly this: In 1453, Mahomet laid siege to Constantinople, and having +reduced the place, became enamoured of a fair Greek, whose name was +Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the law of the prophet, and to +grace his throne. Enraged at this intended marriage, the janizaries +formed a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor. To avert the impending +danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, "catching with one +hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the hair of her head, +and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one blow, struck off her +head, to the great terror of them all; and, having so done, said unto +them: 'Now by this, judge whether your emperor is able to bridle his +affections or not.'" The story is simple, and it remained for the author +to amplify it, with proper episodes, and give it complication and +variety. The catastrophe is changed, and horror gives place to terror +and pity. But, after all, the fable is cold and languid. There is not, +throughout the piece, a single situation to excite curiosity, and raise +a conflict of passions. The diction is nervous, rich, and elegant; but +splendid language, and melodious numbers, will make a fine poem--not a +tragedy. The sentiments are beautiful, always happily expressed, but +seldom appropriated to the character, and generally too philosophic. +What Johnson has said of the tragedy of Cato, may be applied to Irene: +"It is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama; rather a succession of +just sentiments, in elegant language, than a representation of natural +affections. Nothing excites or assuages emotion. The events are expected +without solicitude, and are remembered without joy or sorrow. Of the +agents we have no care; we consider not what they are doing, nor what +they are suffering; we wish only to know, what they have to say. It is +unaffecting elegance, and chill philosophy." The following speech, in +the mouth of a Turk, who is supposed to have heard of the British +constitution, has been often selected from the numberless beauties with +which Irene abounds: + + "If there be any land, as fame reports, + Where common laws restrain the prince and subject; + A happy land, where circulating power + Flows through each member of th' embodied state, + Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, + Her grateful sons shine bright with ev'ry virtue; + Untainted with the LUST OF INNOVATION; + Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule, + Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature, + That links the jarring elements in peace." + +These are British sentiments. Above forty years ago, they found an echo +in the breast of applauding audiences; and to this hour they are the +voice of the people, in defiance of the metaphysics, and the new lights +of certain politicians, who would gladly find their private advantage in +the disasters of their country; a race of men, "quibus nulla ex honesto +spes." + +The prologue to Irene is written with elegance, and, in a peculiar +style, shows the literary pride and lofty spirit of the author. The +epilogue, we are told, in a late publication, was written by sir William +Yonge. This is a new discovery, but by no means probable. When the +appendages to a dramatic performance are not assigned to a friend, or an +unknown hand, or a person of fashion, they are always supposed to be +written by the author of the play. It is to be wished, however, that the +epilogue, in question, could be transferred to any other writer. It is +the worst jeu d'esprit that ever fell from Johnson's pen[cc]. + +An account of the various pieces contained in this edition, such as +miscellaneous tracts, and philological dissertations, would lead beyond +the intended limits of this essay. It will suffice to say, that they are +the productions of a man, who never wanted decorations of language, and +always taught his reader to think. The life of the late king of Prussia, +as far as it extends, is a model of the biographical style. The review +of the Origin of Evil was, perhaps, written with asperity; but the angry +epitaph which it provoked from Soame Jenyns, was an ill-timed +resentment, unworthy of the genius of that amiable author. + +The Rambler may be considered, as Johnson's great work. It was the basis +of that high reputation, which went on increasing to the end of his +days. The circulation of those periodical essays was not, at first, +equal to their merit. They had not, like the Spectators, the art of +charming by variety; and, indeed, how could it be expected? The wits of +queen Anne's reign sent their contributions to the Spectator; and +Johnson stood alone. A stagecoach, says sir Richard Steele, must go +forward on stated days, whether there are passengers or not. So it was +with the Rambler, every Tuesday and Saturday, for two years. In this +collection Johnson is the great moral teacher of his countrymen; his +essays form a body of ethics; the observations on life and manners, are +acute and instructive; and the papers, professedly critical, serve to +promote the cause of literature. It must, however, be acknowledged, that +a settled gloom hangs over the author's mind; and all the essays, except +eight or ten, coming from the same fountain-head, no wonder that they +have the raciness of the soil from which they sprang. Of this uniformity +Johnson was sensible. He used to say, that if he had joined a friend or +two, who would have been able to intermix papers of a sprightly turn, +the collection would have been more miscellaneous, and, by consequence, +more agreeable to the generality of readers. This he used to illustrate +by repeating two beautiful stanzas from his own ode to Cave, or Sylvanus +Urban: + + "Non ulla musis pagina gratior, + Quam quae severis ludicra jungere + Novit, fatigatamque nugis + Utilibus recreare mentem. + + Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, + Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat + Iramista, sic Iris refulget + Aethereis variata fucis." + +It is remarkable, that the pomp of diction, which has been objected to +Johnson, was first assumed in the Rambler. His Dictionary was going on +at the same time, and, in the course of that work, as he grew familiar +with technical and scholastic words, he thought that the bulk of his +readers were equally learned; or, at least, would admire the splendour +and dignity of the style. And yet it is well known, that he praised, in +Cowley, the ease and unaffected structure of the sentences. Cowley may +be placed at the head of those who cultivated a clear and natural style. +Dryden, Tillotson, and sir William Temple followed. Addison, Swift, and +Pope, with more correctness, carried our language well nigh to +perfection. Of Addison, Johnson was used to say, "he is the Raphael of +essay writers." How he differed so widely from such elegant models, is a +problem not to be solved, unless it be true, that he took an early +tincture from the writers of the last century, particularly sir Thomas +Browne. Hence the peculiarities of his style, new combinations, +sentences of an unusual structure, and words derived from the learned +languages. His own account of the matter is: "When common words were +less pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in their signification, I +familiarized the terms of philosophy, by applying them to popular +ideas." But he forgot the observation of Dryden: "If too many foreign +words are poured in upon us, it looks, as if they were designed, not to +assist the natives, but to conquer them." There is, it must be admitted, +a swell of language, often out of all proportion to the sentiment; but +there is, in general, a fulness of mind, and the thought seems to expand +with the sound of the words. Determined to discard colloquial barbarisms +and licentious idioms, he forgot the elegant simplicity that +distinguishes the writings of Addison. He had, what Locke calls, a +round-about view of his subject; and, though he never was tainted, like +many modern wits, with the ambition of shining in paradox, he may be +fairly called an original thinker. His reading was extensive. He +treasured in his mind whatever was worthy of notice, but he added to it +from his own meditation. He collected, "quae reconderet, auetaque +promeret." Addison was not so profound a thinker. He was "born to write, +converse, and live with ease;" and he found an early patron in lord +Somers. He depended, however, more upon a fine taste than the vigour of +his mind. His Latin poetry shows, that he relished, with a just +selection, all the refined and delicate beauties of the Roman classics; +and, when he cultivated his native language, no wonder that he formed +that graceful style, which has been so justly admired; simple, yet +elegant; adorned, yet never over-wrought; rich in allusion, yet pure and +perspicuous; correct, without labour; and though, sometimes, deficient +in strength, yet always musical. His essays, in general, are on the +surface of life; if ever original, it was in pieces of humour. Sir Roger +de Coverly, and the tory fox-hunter, need not to be mentioned. Johnson +had a fund of humour, but he did not know it; nor was he willing to +descend to the familiar idiom, and the variety of diction, which that +mode of composition required. The letter, in the Rambler, No. 12, from a +young girl that wants a place, will illustrate this observation. Addison +possessed an unclouded imagination, alive to the first objects of nature +and of art. He reaches the sublime without any apparent effort. When he +tells us, "If we consider the fixed stars as so many oceans of flame, +that are each of them attended with a different set of planets; if we +still discover new firmaments, and new lights, that are sunk further in +those unfathomable depths of ether; we are lost in a labyrinth of suns +and worlds, and confounded with the magnificence and immensity of +nature;" the ease, with which this passage rises to unaffected grandeur, +is the secret charm that captivates the reader. Johnson is always lofty; +he seems, to use Dryden's phrase, to be "o'erinform'd with meaning," and +his words do not appear to himself adequate to his conception. He moves +in state, and his periods are always harmonious. His Oriental Tales are +in the true style of eastern magnificence, and yet none of them are so +much admired, as the Visions of Mirza. In matters of criticism, Johnson +is never the echo of preceding writers. He thinks, and decides, for +himself. If we except the essays on the Pleasures of Imagination, +Addison cannot be called a philosophical critic. His moral essays are +beautiful; but in that province nothing can exceed the Rambler, though +Johnson used to say, that the essay on "the burthens of mankind," (in +the Spectator, No. 558,) was the most exquisite he had ever read. +Talking of himself, Johnson said, "Topham Beauclerk has wit, and every +thing comes from him with ease; but when I say a good thing, I seem to +labour." When we compare him with Addison, the contrast is still +stronger: Addison lends grace and ornament to truth; Johnson gives it +force and energy. Addison makes virtue amiable; Johnson represents it as +an awful duty: Addison insinuates himself with an air of modesty; +Johnson commands like a dictator; but a dictator in his splendid robes, +not labouring at the plough: Addison is the Jupiter of Virgil, with +placid serenity talking to Venus, + + "Vultu, quo coelum tempestatesque serenat." + +Johnson is Jupiter Tonans: he darts his lightning and rolls his thunder, +in the cause of virtue and piety. The language seems to fall short of +his ideas; he pours along, familiarizing the terms of philosophy, with +bold inversions, and sonorous periods; but we may apply to him, what +Pope has said of Homer: "It is the sentiment that swells and fills out +the diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it: like glass +in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, as the breath within +is more powerful, and the heat more intense." + +It is not the design of this comparison to decide between these two +eminent writers. In matters of taste every reader will choose for +himself. Johnson is always profound, and, of course, gives the fatigue +of thinking. Addison charms, while he instructs; and writing, as he +always does, a pure, an elegant, and idiomatic style, he may be +pronounced the safest model for imitation. + +The essays written by Johnson in the Adventurer, may be called a +continuation of the Rambler. The Idler, in order to be consistent with +the assumed character, is written with abated vigour, in a style of ease +and unlaboured elegance. It is the Odyssey, after the Iliad. Intense +thinking would not become the Idler. The first number presents a well-drawn +portrait of an Idler, and from that character no deviation could +be made. Accordingly, Johnson forgets his austere manner, and plays us +into sense. He still continues his lectures on human life, but he +adverts to common occurrences, and is often content with the topic of +the day. An advertisement in the beginning of the first volume informs +us, that twelve entire essays were a contribution from different hands. +One of these, No. 33, is the journal of a senior fellow, at Cambridge, +but, as Johnson, being himself an original thinker, always revolted from +servile imitation, he has printed the piece with an apology, importing, +that the journal of a citizen, in the Spectator, almost precluded the +attempt of any subsequent writer. This account of the Idler may be +closed, after observing, that the author's mother being buried on the +23rd of January, 1759, there is an admirable paper occasioned by that +event, on Saturday, the 27th of the same month, No. 41. The reader, if +he pleases, may compare it with another fine paper in the Rambler, No. +54, on the conviction that rushes on the mind at the bed of a dying +friend. + +"Rasselas," says sir John Hawkins, "is a specimen of our language +scarcely to be paralleled; it is written in a style refined to a degree +of immaculate purity, and displays the whole force of turgid eloquence." +One cannot but smile at this encomium. Rasselas, is, undoubtedly, both +elegant and sublime. It is a view of human life, displayed, it must be +owned, in gloomy colours. The author's natural melancholy, depressed, at +the time, by the approaching dissolution of his mother, darkened the +picture. A tale, that should keep curiosity awake by the artifice of +unexpected incidents, was not the design of a mind pregnant with better +things. He, who reads the heads of the chapters, will find, that it is +not a course of adventures that invites him forward, but a discussion of +interesting questions; reflections on human life; the history of Imlac, +the man of learning; a dissertation upon poetry; the character of a wise +and happy man, who discourses, with energy, on the government of the +passions, and, on a sudden, when death deprives him of his daughter, +forgets all his maxims of wisdom, and the eloquence that adorned them, +yielding to the stroke of affliction, with all the vehemence of the +bitterest anguish. It is by pictures of life, and profound moral +reflection, that expectation is engaged, and gratified throughout the +work. The history of the mad astronomer, who imagines that, for five +years, he possessed the regulation of the weather, and that the sun +passed, from tropic to tropic, by his direction, represents, in striking +colours, the sad effects of a distempered imagination. It becomes the +more affecting when we recollect, that it proceeds from one who lived in +fear of the same dreadful visitation; from one who says emphatically: +"Of the uncertainties in our present state, the most dreadful and +alarming is the uncertain continuance of reason." The inquiry into the +cause of madness, and the dangerous prevalence of imagination, till, in +time, some particular train of ideas fixes the attention, and the mind +recurs constantly to the favourite conception, is carried on in a strain +of acute observation; but it leaves us room to think, that the author +was transcribing from his own apprehensions. The discourse on the nature +of the soul, gives us all that philosophy knows, not without a tincture +of superstition. It is remarkable, that the vanity of human pursuits +was, about the same time, the subject that employed both Johnson and +Voltaire; but Candide is the work of a lively imagination; and Rasselas, +with all its splendour of eloquence, exhibits a gloomy picture. It +should, however, be remembered, that the world has known the weeping, as +well as the laughing philosopher. + +The Dictionary does not properly fall within the province of this essay. +The preface, however, will be found in this edition. He who reads the +close of it, without acknowledging the force of the pathethic and +sublime, must have more insensibility in his composition, than usually +falls to the share of a man. The work itself, though, in some instances, +abuse has been loud, and, in others, malice has endeavoured to undermine +its fame, still remains the MOUNT ATLAS of English literature. + + "Though storms and tempests thunder on its brow, + And oceans break their billows at its feet, + It stands unmov'd, and glories in its height." + +That Johnson was eminently qualified for the office of a commentator on +Shakespeare, no man can doubt; but it was an office which he never +cordially embraced. The public expected more than he had diligence to +perform; and yet his edition has been the ground, on which every +subsequent commentator has chosen to build. One note, for its +singularity, may be thought worthy of notice in this place. Hamlet says, +"For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god-kissing +carrion." In this Warburton discovered the origin of evil. Hamlet, he +says, breaks off in the middle of the sentence; but the learned +commentator knows what he was going to say, and, being unwilling to keep +the secret, he goes on in a train of philosophical reasoning, that +leaves the reader in astonishment. Johnson, with true piety, adopts the +fanciful hypothesis, declaring it to be a noble emendation, which almost +sets the critic on a level with the author. The general observations at +the end of the several plays, and the preface, will be found in this +edition. The former, with great elegance and precision, give a summary +view of each drama. The preface is a tract of great erudition and +philosophical criticism. + +Johnson's political pamphlets, whatever was his motive for writing them, +whether gratitude for his pension, or the solicitation of men in power, +did not support the cause for which they were undertaken. They are +written in a style truly harmonious, and with his usual dignity of +language. When it is said that he advanced positions repugnant to the +"common rights of mankind," the virulence of party may be suspected. It +is, perhaps, true, that in the clamour, raised throughout the kingdom, +Johnson overheated his mind; but he was a friend to the rights of man, +and he was greatly superior to the littleness of spirit, that might +incline him to advance what he did not think and firmly believe. In the +False Alarm, though many of the most eminent men in the kingdom +concurred in petitions to the throne, yet Johnson, having well surveyed +the mass of the people, has given, with great humour, and no less truth, +what may be called, "the birth, parentage, and education of a +remonstrance." On the subject of Falkland's islands, the fine dissuasive +from too hastily involving the world in the calamities of war, must +extort applause even from the party that wished, at that time, for +scenes of tumult and commotion. It was in the same pamphlet, that +Johnson offered battle to Junius, a writer, who, by the uncommon +elegance of his style, charmed every reader, though his object was to +inflame the nation in favour of a faction. Junius fought in the dark; he +saw his enemy, and had his full blow; while he himself remained safe in +obscurity. "But let us not," said Johnson, "mistake the venom of the +shaft, for the vigour of the bow." The keen invective which he +published, on that occasion, promised a paper war between two +combatants, who knew the use of their weapons. A battle between them was +as eagerly expected, as between Mendoza and Big Ben. But Junius, +whatever was his reason, never returned to the field. He laid down his +arms, and has, ever since, remained as secret as the man in the mask, in +Voltaire's history. + +The account of his journey to the Hebrides, or western isles of +Scotland, is a model for such as shall, hereafter, relate their travels. +The author did not visit that part of the world in the character of an +antiquary, to amuse us with wonders taken from the dark and fabulous +ages; nor, as a mathematician, to measure a degree, and settle the +longitude and latitude of the several islands. Those, who expected such +information, expected what was never intended. "In every work regard the +writer's end." Johnson went to see men and manners, modes of life, and +the progress of civilization. His remarks are so artfully blended with +the rapidity and elegance of his narrative, that the reader is inclined +to wish, as Johnson did, with regard to Gray, that "to travel, and to +tell his travels, had been more of his employment." + +As to Johnson's Parliamentary Debates, nothing, with propriety, can be +said in this place. They are collected, in two volumes, by Mr. +Stockdale, and the flow of eloquence which runs through the several +speeches, is sufficiently known. + +It will not be useless to mention two more volumes, which may form a +proper supplement to this edition. They contain a set of sermons, left +for publication by John Taylor, LL.D. The reverend Mr. Hayes, who +ushered these discourses into the world, has not given them, as the +composition of Dr. Taylor. All he could say for his departed friend was, +that he left them, in silence, among his papers. Mr. Hayes knew them to +be the production of a superior mind; and the writer of these memoirs +owes it to the candour of that elegant scholar, that he is now warranted +to give an additional proof of Johnson's ardour in the cause of piety, +and every moral duty. The last discourse in the collection was intended +to be delivered by Dr. Taylor, at the funeral of Johnson's wife; but +that reverend gentleman declined the office, because, as he told Mr. +Hayes, the praise of the deceased was too much amplified. He, who reads +the piece, will find it a beautiful moral lesson, written with temper, +and nowhere overcharged with ambitious ornaments. The rest of the +discourses were the fund, which Dr. Taylor, from time to time, carried +with him to his pulpit. He had the _largest bull_[dd] in England, and +some of the best sermons. + +We come now to the Lives of the Poets, a work undertaken at the age of +seventy, yet, the most brilliant, and, certainly, the most popular, of +all our author's writings. For this performance he needed little +preparation. Attentive always to the history of letters, and, by his own +natural bias, fond of biography, he was the more willing to embrace the +proposition of the booksellers. He was versed in the whole body of +English poetry, and his rules of criticism were settled with precision. +The dissertation, in the life of Cowley, on the metaphysical poets of +the last century, has the attraction of novelty, as well as sound +observation. The writers, who followed Dr. Donne, went in quest of +something better than truth and nature. As Sancho says, in Don Quixote, +they wanted better bread than is made with wheat. They took pains to +bewilder themselves, and were ingenious for no other purpose than to +err. In Johnson's review of Cowley's works, false wit is detected in all +its shapes, and the Gothic taste for glittering conceits, and far-fetched +allusions, is exploded, never, it is hoped, to revive again. + +An author who has published his observations on the Life and Writings of +Dr. Johnson, speaking of the Lives of the Poets, says, "These +compositions, abounding in strong and acute remark, and with many fine, +and even sublime, passages, have, unquestionably, great merit; but, if +they be regarded, merely as containing narrations of the lives, +delineations of the characters, and strictures of the several authors, +they are far from being always to be depended on." He adds: "The +characters are sometimes partial, and there is, sometimes, too much +malignity of misrepresentation, to which, perhaps, may be joined no +inconsiderable portion of erroneous criticism." The several clauses of +this censure deserve to be answered, as fully as the limits of this +essay will permit. + +In the first place, the facts are related upon the best intelligence, +and the best vouchers that could be gleaned, after a great lapse of +time. Probability was to be inferred from such materials, as could be +procured, and no man better understood the nature of historical evidence +than Dr. Johnson; no man was more religiously an observer of truth. If +his history is any where defective, it must be imputed to the want of +better information, and the errors of uncertain tradition. + + "Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura." + +If the strictures on the works of the various authors are not always +satisfactory, and if erroneous criticism may sometimes be suspected, who +can hope, that in matters of taste, all shall agree? The instances, in +which the public mind has differed, from the positions advanced by the +author, are few in number. It has been said, that justice has not been +done to Swift; that Gay and Prior are undervalued; and that Gray has +been harshly treated. This charge, perhaps, ought not to be disputed. +Johnson, it is well known, had conceived a prejudice against Swift. His +friends trembled for him, when he was writing that life, but were +pleased, at last, to see it executed with temper and moderation. As to +Prior, it is probable that he gave his real opinion, but an opinion that +will not be adopted by men of lively fancy. With regard to Gray, when he +condemns the apostrophe, in which father Thames is desired to tell who +drives the hoop, or tosses the ball, and then adds, that father Thames +had no better means of knowing than himself; when he compares the abrupt +beginning of the first stanza of the bard, to the ballad of Johnny +Armstrong, "Is there ever a man in all Scotland;" there are, perhaps, +few friends of Johnson, who would not wish to blot out both the +passages. + +It may be questioned, whether the remarks on Pope's Essay on Man can be +received, without great caution. It has been already mentioned, that +Crousaz, a professor in Switzerland, eminent for his Treatise of Logic, +started up a professed enemy to that poem. Johnson says, "his mind was +one of those, in which philosophy and piety are happily united. He +looked, with distrust, upon all metaphysical systems of theology, and +was persuaded, that the positions of Pope were intended to draw mankind +away from revelation, and to represent the whole course of things, as a +necessary concatenation of indissoluble fatality." This is not the place +fur a controversy about the Leibnitzian system. Warburton, with all the +powers of his large and comprehensive mind, published a vindication of +Pope; and yet Johnson says, that, "in many passages, a religious eye may +easily discover expressions not very favourable to morals, or to +liberty." This sentence is severe, and, perhaps, dogmatical. Crousaz +wrote an Examen of the Essay on Man, and, afterwards, a commentary on +every remarkable passage; and, though it now appears, that Mrs. +Elizabeth Carter translated the foreign critic, yet it is certain, that +Johnson encouraged the work, and, perhaps, imbibed those early +prejudices, which adhered to him to the end of his life. He shuddered at +the idea of irreligion. Hence, we are told, in the life of Pope, "Never +were penury of knowledge, and vulgarity of sentiment, so happily +disguised; Pope, in the chair of wisdom, tells much that every man +knows, and much that he did not know himself; and gives us comfort in +the position, that though man's a fool, yet God is wise; that human +advantages are unstable; that our true honour is, not to have a great +part, but to act it well; that virtue only is our own, and that +happiness is always in our power." The reader, when he meets all this in +its new array, no longer knows the talk of his mother and his nurse. +But, may it not be said, that every system of ethics must, or ought, to +terminate, in plain and general maxims for the use of life? and, though +in such anxioms no discovery is made, does not the beauty of the moral +theory consist in the premises, and the chain of reasoning that leads to +the conclusion? May not truth, as Johnson himself says, be conveyed to +the mind by a new train of intermediate images? Pope's doctrine, about +the ruling passion, does not seem to be refuted, though it is called, in +harsh terms, pernicious, as well as false, tending to establish a kind +of moral predestination, or overruling principle, which cannot be +resisted. But Johnson was too easily alarmed in the cause of religion. +Organized as the human race is, individuals have different inlets of +perception, different powers of mind, and different sensations of +pleasure and pain. + + "All spread their charms, but charm not all alike, + On different senses different objects strike: + Hence different passions more or less inflame, + As strong or weak the organs of the frame. + And hence one master-passion in the breast, + Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest." + +Brumoy says, Pascal, from his infancy, felt himself a geometrician; and +Vandyke, in like manner, was a painter. Shakespeare, who, of all poets, +had the deepest insight into human nature, was aware of a prevailing +bias in the operations of every mind. By him we are told, "Masterless +passion sways us to the mood of what it likes or loathes." + +It remains to inquire, whether, in the lives before us, the characters +are partial, and too often drawn with malignity of misrepresentation? To +prove this, it is alleged, that Johnson has misrepresented the +circumstances relative to the translation of the first Iliad, and +maliciously ascribed that performance to Addison, instead of Tickell, +with too much reliance on the testimony of Pope, taken from the account +in the papers left by Mr. Spence. For a refutation of the fallacy +imputed to Addison, we are referred to a note in the Biographia +Britannica, written by the late judge Blackstone, who, it is said, +examined the whole matter with accuracy, and found, that the first +regular statement of the accusation against Addison, was published by +Ruffhead, in his life of Pope, from the materials which he received from +Dr. Warburton. But, with all due deference to the learned judge, whose +talents deserve all praise, this account is by no means accurate. + +Sir Richard Steele, in a dedication of the comedy of the Drummer, to Mr. +Congreve, gave the first insight into that business. He says, in a style +of anger and resentment: "If that gentleman (Mr. Tickell) thinks himself +injured, I will allow I have wronged him upon this issue, that, if the +reputed translator of the first book of Homer shall please to give us +another book, there shall appear another good judge in poetry, besides +Mr. Alexander Pope, who shall like it." The authority of Steele +outweighs all opinions, founded on vain conjecture, and, indeed, seems +to be decisive, since we do not find that Tickell, though warmly +pressed, thought proper to vindicate himself. + +But the grand proof of Johnson's malignity, is the manner in which he +has treated the character and conduct of Milton. To enforce this charge +has wearied sophistry, and exhausted the invention of a party. What they +cannot deny, they palliate; what they cannot prove, they say is +probable. But why all this rage against Dr. Johnson? Addison, before +him, had said of Milton: + + "Oh! had the poet ne'er profan'd his pen, + To varnish o'er the guilt of faithless men!" + +And had not Johnson an equal right to avow his sentiments? Do his +enemies claim a privilege to abuse whatever is valuable to Englishmen, +either in church or state? and must the liberty of unlicensed printing +be denied to the friends of the British constitution? + +It is unnecessary to pursue the argument through all its artifices, +since, dismantled of ornament and seducing language, the plain truth may +be stated in a narrow compass. Johnson knew that Milton was a +republican: he says, "an acrimonious and surly republican, for which it +is not known that he gave any better reason than, that a popular +government was the most frugal; for the trappings of a monarchy would +set up an ordinary commonwealth." Johnson knew that Milton talked aloud +"of the danger of readmitting kingship in this nation;" and when Milton +adds, "that a commonwealth was commended, or rather enjoined, by our +Saviour himself, to all christians, not without a remarkable +disallowance, and the brand of gentilism upon kingship," Johnson thought +him no better than a wild enthusiast. He knew, as well as Milton, "that +the happiness of a nation must needs be firmest and certainest in a full +and free council of their own electing, where no single person, but +reason only, sways;" but the example of all the republicks, recorded in +the annals of mankind, gave him no room to hope, that reason only would +be heard. He knew, that the republican form of government, having little +or no complication, and no consonance of parts, by a nice mechanism +forming a regular whole, was too simple to be beautiful, even in theory. +In practice it, perhaps, never existed. In its most flourishing state, +at Athens, Rome, and Carthage, it was a constant scene of tumult and +commotion. From the mischiefs of a wild democracy, the progress has ever +been to the dominion of an aristocracy; and the word aristocracy, +fatally includes the boldest and most turbulent citizens, who rise by +their crimes, and call themselves the best men in the state. By +intrigue, by cabal, and faction, a pernicious oligarchy is sure to +succeed, and end, at last, in the tyranny of a single ruler. Tacitus, +the great master of political wisdom, saw, under the mixed authority of +king, nobles, and people, a better form of government than Milton's +boasted republick; and what Tacitus admired in theory, but despaired of +enjoying, Johnson saw established in this country. He knew that it had +been overturned by the rage of frantic men; but he knew that, after the +iron rod of Cromwell's usurpation, the constitution was once more +restored to its first principles. Monarchy was established, and this +country was regenerated. It was regenerated a second time, at the +revolution: the rights of men were then defined, and the blessings of +good order, and civil liberty, have been ever since diffused through the +whole community. + +The peace and happiness of society were what Dr. Johnson had at heart. +He knew that Milton called his defence of the regicides, a defence of +the people of England; but, however glossed and varnished, he thought it +an apology for murder. Had the men, who, under a show of liberty, +brought their king to the scaffold, proved, by their subsequent conduct, +that the public good inspired their actions, the end might have given +some sanction to the means; but usurpation and slavery followed. Milton +undertook the office of secretary, under the despotic power of Cromwell, +offering the incense of adulation to his master, with the titles of +"director of public councils, the leader of unconquered armies, the +father of his country." Milton declared, at the same time, "that nothing +is more pleasing to God, or more agreeable to reason, than that the +highest mind should have the sovereign power." In this strain of servile +flattery, Milton gives us the right divine of tyrants. But it seems, in +the same piece, he exhorts Cromwell "not to desert those great +principles of liberty which he had professed to espouse; for, it would +be a grievous enormity, if, after having successfully opposed tyranny, +he should himself act the part of a tyrant, and betray the cause that he +had defended." This desertion of every honest principle the advocate for +liberty lived to see. Cromwell acted the tyrant; and, with vile +hypocrisy, told the people, that he had consulted the Lord, and the Lord +would have it so. Milton took an under part in the tragedy. Did that +become the defender of the people of England? Brutus saw his country +enslaved; he struck the blow for freedom, and he died with honour in the +cause. Had he lived to be a secretary under Tiberius, what would now be +said of his memory? + +But still, it seems, the prostitution with which Milton is charged, +since it cannot be defended, is to be retorted on the character of +Johnson. For this purpose, a book has been published, called Remarks on +Dr. Johnson's Life of Milton; to which are added, Milton's Tractate of +Education, and Areopagitica. In this laboured tract we are told, "There +is one performance, ascribed to the pen of the Doctor, where the +prostitution is of so singular a nature, that it would be difficult to +select an adequate motive for it, out of the mountainous heap of +conjectural causes of human passions, or human caprice. It is the speech +of the late unhappy Dr. William Dodd, when he was about to hear the +sentence of the law pronounced upon him, in consequence of an indictment +for forgery. The voice of the public has given the honour of +manufacturing this speech to Dr. Johnson; and the style, and +configuration of the speech itself, confirm the imputation. But it is +hardly possible to divine what could be his motive for accepting the +office. A man, to express the precise state of mind of another, about to +be destined to an ignominious death, for a capital crime, should, one +would imagine, have some consciousness, that he himself had incurred +some guilt of the same kind." In all the schools of sophistry, is there +to be found so vile an argument? In the purlieus of Grub street, is +there such another mouthful of dirt? In the whole quiver of malice, is +there so envenomed a shaft? + +After this, it is to be hoped, that a certain class of men will talk no +more of Johnson's malignity. The last apology for Milton is, that he +acted according to his principles. But Johnson thought those principles +detestable; pernicious to the constitution, in church and state, +destructive of the peace of society, and hostile to the great fabric of +civil policy, which the wisdom of ages has taught every Briton to +revere, to love, and cherish. He reckoned Milton in that class of men, +of whom the Roman historian says, when they want, by a sudden +convulsion, to overturn the government, they roar and clamour for +liberty; if they succeed, they destroy liberty itself: "Ut imperium +evertant, libertatem praeferunt; si perverterint, libertatem ipsam +aggredientur." Such were the sentiments of Dr. Johnson; and it may be +asked, in the language of Bolingbroke, "Are these sentiments, which any +man, who is born a Briton, in any circumstances, in any situation, ought +to be ashamed, or afraid to avow?" Johnson has done ample justice to +Milton's poetry: the criticism on Paradise Lost is a sublime +composition. Had he thought the author as good and pious a citizen as +Dr. Watts, he would have been ready, notwithstanding his nonconformity, +to do equal honour to the memory of the man. + +It is now time to close this essay, which the author fears has been +drawn too much into length. In the progress of the work, feeble as it +may be, he thought himself performing the last human office to the +memory of a friend, whom he loved, esteemed, and honoured: + + "His saltern accumulem donis, et fungar inani + Munere."-- + +The author of these memoirs has been anxious to give the features of the +man, and the true character of the author. He has not suffered the hand +of partiality to colour his excellencies with too much warmth; nor has +he endeavoured to throw his singularities too much into the shade. Dr. +Johnson's failings may well be forgiven, for the sake of his virtues. +His defects were spots in the sun. His piety, his kind affections, and +the goodness of his heart, present an example worthy of imitation. His +works still remain a monument of genius and of learning. Had he written +nothing but what is contained in this edition, the quantity shows a life +spent in study and meditation. If to this be added, the labour of his +Dictionary, and other various productions, it may be fairly allowed, as +he used to say of himself, that he has written his share. In the volumes +here presented to the public the reader will find a perpetual source of +pleasure and instruction. With due precautions, authors may learn to +grace their style with elegance, harmony, and precision; they may be +taught to think with vigour and perspicuity; and, to crown the whole, by +a diligent attention to these books, all may advance in virtue. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. ii. p. 465, 4to. edit. +[b] This appears in a note to Johnson's Diary, prefixed to the first of + his Prayers. After the alteration of the style, he kept his birthday + on the 18th of September, and it is accordingly marked September + 7/18 +[c] The impression which this interview left on Johnson's fancy, is + recorded by Mrs. Piozzi in her anecdotes; and Johnson's description + of it is picturesque and poetical. Being asked if he could remember + queen Anne, "he had (he said) a confused, but somehow a sort of + solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood." +--ED. +[d] The entry of this is remarkable for his early resolution to preserve + through life a fair and upright character. "1732, Junii 15. Undecim + aureos deposui, quo die, quidquid ante matris funus (quod serum sit + precor) de paternis bonis sperare licet, viginti scilicet libras, + accepi. Usque adeo mihi mea fortuna fingenda est. Interea, ne + paupertate vires animi languescant, nec in flagitia egestas abigat, + cavendum." +[e] This, Mr. Bruce, the late traveller, avers to be a downright + falsehood. He says, a deep pool of water reaches to the very foot of + the rock; and, allowing that there was a seat or bench (which there + is not) in the middle of the pool, it is absolutely impossible, by + any exertion of human strength, to have arrived at it. But it may be + asked, can Mr. Bruce say what was the face of the country in the + year 1622, when Lobo saw the magnificent sight which he has + described? Mr. Bruce's pool of water may have been formed since; and + Lobo, perhaps, was content to sit down without a bench. +[f] After comparing this description with that lately given by Mr. + Bruce, the reader will judge, whether Lobo is to lose the honour of + having been at the head of the Nile, near two centuries before any + other European traveller. +[g] See the Gentleman's Magazine for 1736, p. 418. +[h] It is added to the present edition of Dr. Johnson's works; vol. v. + p. 202. +[i] Afterwards earl of Roslin. He died January 3, 1805. + +[Transcriber's Note: There is no Footnote [j]] + +[k] Mr. Boswell says, "The simple truth I had from Johnson himself. + 'Sir, he was impertinent to me, and I beat him. But it was not in + his shop: it was in my own chamber.'" +[l] Dr. Johnson denies the whole of this story. See Boswell's Life, vol. + i. p. 128. oct. edit. 1804. +[m] Letter 212. +[n] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxxi. p. 190. +[o] It has since been paralleled, in the case of the Shakespeare MSS. by + a yet more vile impostor. +[p] Life of Johnson, vol. i. p.328. 4to. edit. +[q] See Gentleman's Magazine for Nov. and Dec. 1787. +[r] See Gentleman's Magazine for Dec. 1787, p. 1042. +[s] This work was not published until the year 1767, when Dr. Johnson's + Dictionary was fully established in reputation. +[t] See Scaliger's epigram on this subject, (communicated, without + doubt, by Dr. Johnson,) Gent. Mag. 1748, p. 8. +[u] See Johnson's epitaph on him, in this volume, p. 130. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] Mr. Boswell's account of this introduction is very different from + the above. See his Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 360. 8vo. edit. 1804. +[y] It is there deposited. +[z] Before this authentic communication, Mr. Nichols had given, in the + volume of the Gentleman's Magazine, for 1781, p. 370, the following + account of the Universal History. The proposals were published + October 6, 1729; and the authors of the first seven volumes were, + +Vol. I. Mr. Sale, translator of the Koran. IV. The same as vol. iii. + II. George Psalmanazar. V. Mr. Bower. + III. George Psalmanazar. VI. Mr. Bower. + Archibald Bower. Rev. John Swinton. + Captain Shelvock. VII. Mr. Swinton. + Dr. Campbell. Mr. Bower. + +[aa] On the subject of voluntary penance, see the Rambler, No. 110. +[bb] It is to be regretted, that he was not encouraged in this + undertaking. The assistance, however, which he gave to Davies, in + writing the Life of Garrick, has been acknowledged, in general + terms, by that writer, and, from the evidence of style, appears to + have been very considerable. +[cc] Dr. Johnson informed Mr. Boswell, that this epilogue was written by + sir William Yonge. See Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 469-- + 70. 8vo. edit. 1804. The internal evidence, that it is not + Johnson's, is very strong, particularly in the line, "But how the + devil," &c. +[dd] See Johnson's letters from Ashbourne, in this volume. + +POEMS. + +PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS + +TO THE IMITATIONS OF THE + +THIRD AND TENTH SATIRES OF JUVENAL. + +We will not examine here Johnson's poetical merits, since that +discussion will more properly introduce his Lives of the Poets, but +merely offer some few biographical remarks. In the poem of London, Mr. +Boswell was of opinion, that Johnson did not allude to Savage, under the +name of Thales, and adds, for his reason, that Johnson was not so much +as acquainted with Savage when he _wrote_ his London. About a month, +however, before he _published_ this poem, he addressed the following +lines to him, through the Gentleman's Magazine, for April, 1738. + + AD RICARDUM SAVAGE. + + Humanani studium generis cui pectore fervet + O colat humanum te, foveatque, genus! + +We cannot certainly infer, from this, an intimacy with Savage, but it is +more probable, that these lines flowed from a feeling of private +friendship, than mere admiration of an author, in a public point of +view; and they, at any rate, give credibility to the general opinion, +that, under the name of Thales, the poet referred to the author of the +Wanderer, who was, at this time, preparing for his retreat to Wales, +whither he actually went in the ensuing year. + +The names of Lydiat, Vane, and Sedley, which are brought forward in the +poem on the Vanity of Human Wishes, as examples of inefficiency of +either learning or beauty, to shield their possessors from distress, +have exercised inquiry. The following is the best account of them we can +collect: + +THOMAS LYDIAT was born in 1572. After passing through the studies of the +university of Oxford, with applause, he was elected fellow of New +college; but his defective utterance induced him to resign his +fellowship, in order to avoid entering holy orders, and to live upon a +small patrimony. He was highly esteemed by the accomplished and +unfortunate prince Henry, son of James the first. But his hopes of +provision in that quarter were blasted by that prince's premature death; +and he then accompanied the celebrated Usher into Ireland. After two or +three years, he returned to England, and poverty induced him now to +accept the rectory of Okerton, near Banbury, which he had before +declined. Here he imprudently became security for the debts of a +relation, and, being unable to pay, was imprisoned for several years. He +was released, at last, by his patron, Usher, sir W. Boswell, Dr. Pink, +then warden of New college, and archbishop Laud, to whom he showed his +gratitude by writing in defence of his measures of church-government. He +now applied to Charles the first for his protection and encouragement to +travel into the east, to collect MSS. but the embarrassed state of the +king's affairs prevented his petition from receiving attention. Lastly, +his well-known attachment to the royal cause drew upon him the repeated +violence of the parliament troops, who plundered, imprisoned, and abused +him, in the most cruel manner. He died in obscurity and indigence, in +1646. A stone was laid over his grave in Okerton church, in 1669, by the +society of New college, who also erected an honorary monument to his +memory in the cloisters of their college. We have dwelt thus long on +Lydiat's name, because, when this poem was published, it was a subject +of inquiry, who Lydiat was, though some of his contemporaries, both in +England and on the continent, ranked him with lord Bacon, in +mathematical and physical knowledge. For a more detailed account, see +Chalmers' Biographical Dictionary, vol. xxi. whence the above facts have +been extracted, and Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxviii. GALILEO, and his +history, are too well known to require a note in this place. + +The VANE, who told, "what ills from beauty spring," was not Lady Vane, +the subject of Smollett's memoirs, in Peregrine Pickle, but, according +to Mr. Malone, she was Anne Vane, mistress to Frederick prince of Wales, +and died in 1736, not long before Johnson settled in London. Some +account of her was published, under the title of the Secret History of +Vanella, 8vo. 1732, and in other similar works, referred to in Boswell, +i. 173. In Mr. Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, we find lord Hailes +objecting to the instances of unfortunate beauties selected by Johnson, +and suggesting, in place of Vane and Sedley, the names of Shore and +Valiere. + +CATHERINE SEDLEY was daughter of sir Charles Sedley, mistress of king +James the second, who created her countess of Dorchester. She was a +woman of a sprightly and agreeable wit, which could charm without the +aid of beauty, and longer maintain its power. She had been the king's +mistress before he ascended the throne, and soon after (January 2, +1685-6) was created countess of Dorchester. Sir C. Sedley, her father, +looked on this title, as a splendid indignity, purchased at the expense of +his daughter's honour; and when he was very active against the king, about +the time of the revolution, he said, that, in gratitude, he should do +his utmost to make his majesty's daughter a queen, as the king had made +his own a countess. The king continued to visit her, which gave great +uneasiness to the queen, who employed her friends, particularly the +priests, to persuade him to break off the correspondence. They +remonstrated with him on the guilt of the commerce, and the reproach it +would bring on the catholic religion; she, on the contrary, employed the +whole force of her ridicule against the priests and their counsels. +They, at length, prevailed, and he is said to have sent her word to +retire to France, or that her pension of 4,000_l_. a year should be +withdrawn. She then, probably, repented of having been the royal +mistress, and "cursed the form that pleased the king." + +See Manning and Bray's Surrey, ii. 788. where the countess's issue is +also given. See, also, Christian's note on Blackstone's Com. iv. p. 65. +It is remarkable, that when Johnson was asked, at a late period of his +life, to whom he had alluded, under the name of Sedley, he said, that he +had quite forgotten. See note on Idler, No. 36.--ED. + +LONDON; A POEM: + +IN IMITATION OF + +THE THIRD SATIRE OF JUVENAL + +WRITTEN IN 1738. + + --Quis ineptae +Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se? JUV. + +[a]Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel, +When injur'd Thales bids the town farewell, +Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend, +I praise the hermit, but regret the friend; +Resolv'd at length, from vice and London far, +To breathe, in distant fields, a purer air, +And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore, +Give to St. David one true Briton more. +[b]For who would leave, unbrib'd, Hibernia's land, +Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand? +There none are swept by sudden fate away, +But all, whom hunger spares, with age decay: +Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire, +And now a rabble rages, now a fire; +Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay, +And here the fell attorney prowls for prey; +Here falling houses thunder on your head, +And here a female atheist talks you dead. + [c]While Thales waits the wherry, that contains +Of dissipated wealth the small remains, +On Thames's banks, in silent thought, we stood +Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood; +Struck with the seat that gave Eliza[A] birth, +We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth; +In pleasing dreams the blissful age renew, +And call Britannia's glories back to view; +Behold her cross triumphant on the main, +The guard of commerce, and the dread of Spain, +Ere masquerades debauch'd, excise oppress'd +Or English honour grew a standing jest. + A transient calm the happy scenes bestow, +And, for a moment, lull the sense of woe. +At length awaking, with contemptuous frown, +Indignant Thales eyes the neighb'ring town. + [d] Since worth, he cries, in these degen'rate days, +Wants ev'n the cheap reward of empty praise; +In those curs'd walls, devote to vice and gain, +Since unrewarded science toils in vain; +Since hope but sooths to double my distress, +And ev'ry moment leaves my little less; +While yet my steady steps no [e]staff sustains, +And life, still vig'rous, revels in my veins; +Grant me, kind heaven, to find some happier place, +Where honesty and sense are no disgrace; +Some pleasing bank where verdant osiers play, +Some peaceful vale, with nature's paintings gay; +Where once the harass'd Briton found repose, +And, safe in poverty, defied his foes; +Some secret cell, ye pow'rs, indulgent give, +[f]Let--live here, for--has learn'd to live. +Here let those reign, whom pensions can incite +To vote a patriot black, a courtier white; +Explain their country's dear-bought rights away, +And plead for[B] pirates in the face of day; +With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth, +And lend a lie the confidence of truth. +[g]Let such raise palaces, and manors buy, +Collect a tax, or farm a lottery; +With warbling eunuchs fill a [C]licens'd [D]stage, +And lull to servitude a thoughtless age. +Heroes, proceed! what bounds your pride shall hold, +What check restrain your thirst of pow'r and gold? +Behold rebellious virtue quite o'erthrown, +Behold our fame, our wealth, our lives, your own. +To such the plunder of a land is giv'n, +When publick crimes inflame the wrath of heaven: +[h]But what, my friend, what hope remains for me. +Who start at theft, and blush at perjury? +Who scarce forbear, though Britain's court he sing, +To pluck a titled poet's borrow'd wing; +A statesman's logick unconvinc'd can hear. +And dare to slumber o'er the [E]Gazetteer; +Despise a fool in half his pension dress'd, +And strive, in vain, to laugh at Clodio's jest[F]. +[i]Others, with softer smiles, and subtler art, +Can sap the principles, or taint the heart; +With more address a lover's note convey, +Or bribe a virgin's innocence away. +Well may they rise, while I, whose rustick tongue +Ne'er knew to puzzle right, or varnish wrong, +Spurn'd as a beggar, dreaded as a spy, +Live unregarded, unlamented die. +[k]For what but social guilt the friend endears? +Who shares Orgilio's crimes, his fortune shares. +[l]But thou, should tempting villany present +All Marlb'rough hoarded, or all Villiers spent, +Turn from the glitt'ring bribe thy scornful eye, +Nor sell for gold, what gold could never buy, +The peaceful slumber, self-approving day, +Unsullied fame, and conscience ever gay. +[m] The cheated nation's happy fav'rites, see! +Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me! +London! the needy villain's gen'ral home, +The common sewer of Paris and of Rome; +With eager thirst, by folly or by fate, +Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state. +Forgive my transports, on a theme like this, +[n]I cannot bear a French metropolis. +[o]Illustrious Edward! from the realms of day, +The land of heroes and of saints survey; +Nor hope the British lineaments to trace, +The rustick grandeur, or the surly grace; +But, lost in thoughtless ease and empty show, +Behold the warriour dwindled to a beau; +Sense, freedom, piety, refin'd away, +Of France the mimick, and of Spain the prey. +All that at home no more can beg or steal, +Or like a gibbet better than a wheel; +Hiss'd from the stage, or hooted from the court, +Their air, their dress, their politicks, import; +[p]Obsequious, artful, voluble and gay, +On Britain's fond credulity they prey. +No gainful trade their industry can 'scape, +[q]They sing, they dance, clean shoes, or cure a clap: +All sciences a fasting Monsieur knows, +And, bid him go to hell, to hell he goes. +[r]Ah! what avails it, that, from slav'ry far, +I drew the breath of life in English air; +Was early taught a Briton's right to prize, +And lisp the tale of Henry's victories; +If the gull'd conqueror receives the chain, +And flattery prevails, when arms are vain![G] +[s]Studious to please, and ready to submit, +The supple Gaul was born a parasite: +Still to his int'rest true, where'er he goes, +Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestows; +In ev'ry face a thousand graces shine, +From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine. + [t]These arts in vain our rugged natives try, +Strain out, with fault'ring diffidence, a lie, +And get a kick[H] for awkward flattery. + Besides, with justice, this discerning age +Admires their wondrous talents for the stage: + [u]Well may they venture on the mimick's art, +Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part; +Practis'd their master's notions to embrace, +Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face; +With ev'ry wild absurdity comply, +And view each object with another's eye; +To shake with laughter, ere the jest they hear, +To pour at will the counterfeited tear; +And, as their patron hints the cold or heat. +To shake in dog-days, in December sweat. + [x]How, when competitors, like these, contend, +Can surly virtue hope to fix a friend? +Slaves that with serious impudence beguile, +And lie without a blush, without a smile; +Exalt each trifle, ev'ry vice adore, +Your taste in snuff, your judgment in a whore: +Can Balbo's eloquence applaud, and swear, +He gropes his breeches with a monarch's air. + For arts, like these, preferr'd, admir'd, caress'd, +They first invade your table, then your breast; +[y]Explore your secrets with insidious art, +Watch the weak hour, and ransack all the heart; +Then soon your ill-placed confidence repay, +Commence your lords, and govern or betray. + [z]By numbers here from shame or censure free, +All crimes are safe, but hated poverty. +This, only this, the rigid law pursues, +This, only this, provokes the snarling muse. +The sober trader at a tatter'd cloak +Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke; +With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, +And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. +[aa]Of all the griefs, that harass the distress'd, +Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest; +Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, +Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart. + [bb]Has heaven reserv'd, in pity to the poor, +No pathless waste, or undiscover'd shore? +No secret island in the boundless main? +No peaceful desert, yet unclaim'd by Spain?[I] +Quick let us rise, the happy seats explore, +And bear oppression's insolence no more. +This mournful truth is ev'ry where confess'd, +[cc]SLOW RISES WORTH, BY POVERTY DEPRESS'D: +But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, +Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold; +Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, +The groom retails the favours of his lord. +But hark! th' affrighted crowd's tumultuous cries +Roll through the streets, and thunder to the skies: +Rais'd from some pleasing dream of wealth and pow'r, +Some pompous palace, or some blissful bow'r, +Aghast you start, and scarce, with aching sight, +Sustain th' approaching fire's tremendous light; +Swift from pursuing horrours take your way, +And leave your little ALL to flames a prey; +[dd]Then through the world a wretched vagrant roam; +For where can starving merit find a home? +In vain your mournful narrative disclose, +While all neglect, and most insult your woes. +[ee]Should heav'n's just bolts Orgilio's wealth confound, +[J]And spread his flaming palace on the ground, +Swift o'er the land the dismal rumour flies, +And publick mournings pacify the skies; +The laureate tribe in venal verse relate, +How virtue wars with persecuting fate; +[ff]With well-feign'd gratitude the pension'd band +Refund the plunder of the beggar'd land. +See! while he builds, the gaudy vassals come, +And crowd with sudden wealth the rising dome; +The price of boroughs and of souls restore; +And raise his treasures higher than before. +Now bless'd with all the baubles of the great, +The polish'd marble and the shining plate, +[gg]Orgilio sees the golden pile aspire, +And hopes from angry heav'n another fire. +[hh]Could'st thou resign the park and play, content, +For the fair banks of Severn or of Trent; +There might'st thou find some elegant retreat, +Some hireling senator's deserted seat; +And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land, +For less than rent the dungeons of the Strand; +There prune thy walks, support thy drooping flowers, +Direct thy rivulets, and twine thy bowers; +[K] And, while thy grounds a cheap repast afford, +Despise the dainties of a venal lord: +There ev'ry bush with nature's musick rings; +There ev'ry breeze bears health upon its wings; +On all thy hours security shall smile, +And bless thine evening walk and morning toil. +[ii]Prepare for death, if here at night you roam, +And sign your will, before you sup from home. +[kk] Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, +Who sleeps on brambles, till he kills his man; +Some frolick drunkard, reeling from a feast, +Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest. +[ll]Yet e'en these heroes, mischievously gay, +Lords of the street, and terrours of the way; +Flush'd, as they are, with folly, youth, and wine; +Their prudent insults to the poor confine; +Afar they mark the flambeau's bright approach, +And shun the shining train, and golden coach. + [mm]In vain, these dangers past, your doors you close, +And hope the balmy blessings of repose; +Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair, +The midnight murd'rer bursts the faithless bar; +Invades the sacred hour of silent rest, +[L]And leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast. + [nn]Scarce can our fields, such crowds at Tyburn die, +With hemp the gallows and the fleet supply. +Propose your schemes, ye senatorian band, +Whose ways and means[M]support the sinking land: +Lest ropes be wanting in the tempting spring, +To rig another convoy for the king[N]. + [oo]A single gaol, in Alfred's golden reign, +Could half the nation's criminals contain; +Fair justice, then, without constraint ador'd, +Held high the steady scale, but sheath'd the sword [D]; +No spies were paid, no special juries known, +Blest age! but ah! how different from our own! + [pp]Much could I add,--but see the boat at hand, +The tide, retiring, calls me from the land: +[qq] Farewell!--When youth, and health, and fortune spent, +Thou fly'st for refuge to the wilds of Kent; +And, tir'd, like me, with follies and with crimes, +In angry numbers warn'st succeeding times; +Then shall thy friend, nor thou refuse his aid, +Still foe to vice, forsake his Cambrian shade; +In virtue's cause, once more, exert his rage, +Thy satire point, and animate thy page. + +FOOTNOTES + +[a] +Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici, +Laudo, tamen, vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis +Destinet atque unum civcm donare Sibyllae. + +[b] +--Ego vel Prochytam praepono Suburae. +Nam quid tam miserum, tam solum vidimus, ut non +Deterius credas horrere incendia, lapsus +Tectorum assiduos, ae mille pericula saevae +Urbis et Augusto recitantes mense poetas + +[c] +Sed dum tota domus reda componitur una, +Substitit ad veteres arcus-- + +[d] +Hic tunc Umbricius; Quando artibus, inquit, honestis +Nullus in urbe locus, nulla emolumenta laborum, +Res hodie minor est, here quam fuit, atque eadem eras +Deteret exiguis aliquid: proponimus illue +Ire, fatigatas ubi Daedalus exuit alas, +Dum nova canities,-- + +[e] +--et pedibus me +Porto meis, nullo dextram subeunte bacillo. + +[f] +Cedamus patria: vivant Artorius istic +Et Catulus: maneant, qui nigrum in candida vertunt. + +[g] +Queis facile est aedem conducere, flumina, portus, +Siccandam eluviem, portandum ad busta cadaver,-- +Munera nunc edunt. + +[h] +Quid Romae faciam? Mentiri nescio: librum, +Si malus est, nequeo laudare et poscere:-- + +[i] +--Ferre ad nuptam, quae mittit adulter, +Quae mandat, norunt alii; me nemo ministro +Fur erit, atque ideo nulli comes exeo,-- + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]] + +[k] +Quis nune diligitur, nisi conscius?-- +Carus erit Verri, qui Verrem tempore, quo vult, +Acuusare potest.-- + +[l] +--Tanti tibi non sit opaci +Omnis arena Tagi, quodque in mare volvitur aurum, +Ut somno careas-- + +[m] +Quae nunc divitibus gens acceptissima nostris +Et quos praecipue fugiam, properabo fateri. + +[n] +--Non possum ferre, Quirites, +Graecam urbem:-- + +[o] +Rusticus ille tuus sumit trechedipna, Quirine, +Et ceromatico fert niceteria collo. + +[p] +Ingenium velox, audacia perdita, sermo +Promptus-- + +[q] +Augur, schoenobates, medicus, magus: omnia novit. +Graeculus esuriens in coelum, jusseris, ibit. + +[r] +Usque adeo nihil est, quod nostra infantia coelum +Hausit Aventinum?-- + +[s] +Quid? quod adulandi gens prudentissima laudat +Sermonem indocti, faciem deformis amici? + +[t] +Haec eadem licet et nobis laudare: sed illis +Creditur.-- + +[u] +Natio comoeda est. Rides? majore cachinno +Coneutitur, &c. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] +Non sumus ergo pares: melior, qui semper et omni +Nocte dieque potest alienum sumere vultum, +A facie jactare manus, laudare paratus, +Si bene ructavit, si rectum minxit amicus.-- + +[y] +Scire volunt secreta domus atque inde timeri. + +[z] +--Materiam praebet causasque jocorum +Omnibus hic idem, si foeda et scissa lacerna, &c. + +[aa] +Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, +Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.-- + +[bb] +--Agmine facto, +Debuerant olim tenues migrasse Quirites. + +[cc] +Haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat +Res angusta domi; sed Romae; durior illis +Conatus:-- + --Omnia Romaae +Cum pretio.-- +Cogimur, et cultis augere peculia servis. + +[dd] +--Ultimus autem +Aerumnae cumulus, quod nudum et frustra rogautem +Nemo cibo, nemo hospitio tectoque juvabit. + +[ee] +Si magna Asturii cecidit domus, horrida mater: +Pullati proccres,-- + +[ff] +--Jam accurrit, qui marmora donet, +Conferat impensas: hic &c. + +[gg] +Hic modium argenti. Meliora, ac plura reponit +Persicus orborum lautissimus-- + +[hh] +Si potes avelli Circensibus, optima Sorae, +Aut Fabrateriae domus, aut Frusinone paratur, +Quanti nunc tenebras unum conducis in annum. +Hortulus hic-- +Vive bidentis amans et culti villicus horti; +Unde epulum possis centum dare Pythagoreis. + +[ii] +--Possis ignavus haberi +Et subiti casus improvidus, ad coenam si +Intestatus eas.-- + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [jj]] + +[kk] +Ebrius, ac petulans, qui nullum forte cecidit, +Dat poenas, noetem patitur lugentis amicum +Pelidae.-- + +[ll] +--Sed, quamvis improbus annis, +Atque mero fervens, cavet hunc, quem coccina lae [Transcriber's note: + remainder of word illegible] +Vitari jubet, et comitum longissimus ordo, +Multum praeterca flammarum, atque aenca lampas, + +[mm] +Nec tamen hoc tantum metuas: nam qui spoliet te, +Non deerit, clausis domibus, &c. + +[nn] +Maximus in vinclis ferri modus, ut timeas, ne +Vomer deficiat, ne marrae et sarcula desint. + +[oo] +Felices proavorum atavos, felicia dicas +Saecula, quae quondam sub regibus atque tribunis +Viderunt uno contentam carcere Romam. + +[pp] +His alias poteram, et plures subnectere causas: +Sed jumenta vocant-- + +[qq] +--Ergo vale nostri memor et, quoties te +Roma tuo refici properantem reddet Aquino, +Me quoque ad Helvinam Cererem vestramque Dianam +Convelle a Cumis. Satirarum ego, ni pudet illas, +Adjutor gelidos veniam caligatus in agros. + +[A] Queen Elizabeth, born at Greenwich. +[B] The invasions of the Spaniards were defended in the houses of + parliament. +[C] The licensing act was then lately made. +[D] _Our silenc'd._ +[E] The paper which, at that time, contained apologies for the court. +[F] H--y's jest. +[G] And what their armies lost, their cringes gain +[H] And _gain_ a kick. +[I] The Spaniards at this time were said to make claim to some of our + American provinces. +[J] This was by Hitch, a bookseller. Justly observed to be no picture of + modern manners, though it might be true at Rome. MS. note in Dr. + Johnson's hand-writing. +[K] And, while thy _beds_. +[L] And _plants_ unseen. +[M] A cant term in the house of commons for methods of raising money. +[N] The nation was discontented at the visits made by the king to + Hanover. +[O] _Sustain'd_ the _balance_, but _resign'd_ the sword. + + + +THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES; + +IN IMITATION OF + + THE TENTH SATIRE OF JUVENAL. + +Let[a] observation, with extensive view, +Survey mankind, from China to Peru; +Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife, +And watch the busy scenes of crowded life; +Then say, how hope and fear, desire and hate +O'erspread with snares the clouded maze of fate, +Where wav'ring man, betray'd by vent'rous pride +To tread the dreary paths, without a guide, +As treach'rous phantoms in the mist delude, +Shuns fancied ills, or chases airy good; +How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice, +Rules the bold hand, or prompts the suppliant voice. +How nations sink, by darling schemes oppress'd, +When vengeance listens to the fool's request. +Fate wings with ev'ry wish th' afflictive dart, +Each gift of nature, and each grace of art; +With fatal heat impetuous courage glows, +With fatal sweetness elocution flows, +Impeachment stops the speaker's pow'rful breath, +And restless fire precipitates on death. +[b]But, scarce observ'd, the knowing and the bold +Fall in the gen'ral massacre of gold; +Wide wasting pest! that rages unconfin'd, +And crowds with crimes the records of mankind; +For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws, +For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws; +Wealth heap'd on wealth, nor truth nor safety buys, +The dangers gather as the treasures rise. +Let hist'ry tell where rival kings command, +And dubious title shakes the madded land, +When statutes glean the refuse of the sword, +How much more safe the vassal than the lord; +Low sculks the hind beneath the rage of power, +And leaves the wealthy traitor in the Tower[c], +Untouch'd his cottage, and his slumbers sound, +Though confiscation's vultures hover round[d]. +The needy traveller, serene and gay, +Walks the wild heath, and sings his toil away. +Does envy seize thee? crush th' upbraiding joy; +Increase his riches, and his peace destroy; +[e]Now fears, in dire vicissitude, invade, +The rustling brake alarms, and quiv'ring shade; +Nor light nor darkness bring his pain relief, +One shows the plunder, and one hides the thief. +[f] Yet still one gen'ral cry[g] the skies assails, +And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales: +Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care, +Th' insidious rival, and the gaping heir. +[h]Once more, Democritus, arise on earth, +With cheerful wisdom and instructive mirth, +See motley life in modern trappings dress'd, +And feed with varied fools th' eternal jest: +Thou, who could'st laugh where want enchain'd caprice, +Toil crush'd conceit, and man was of a piece; +Where wealth, unlov'd, without a mourner died; +And scarce a sycophant was fed by pride; +Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate, +Or seen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state; +Where change of fav'rites made no change of laws, +And senates heard, before they judg'd a cause; +How would'st thou shake at Britain's modish tribe, +Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe? +Attentive truth and nature to descry, +And pierce each scene with philosophick eye; +To thee were solemn toys, or empty show, +The robes of pleasure, and the veils of woe: +All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain, +Whose joys are causeless, or whose griefs are vain. + Such was the scorn that fill'd the sage's mind, +Renew'd at ev'ry glance on human kind; +How just that scorn, ere yet thy voice declare, +Search ev'ry state, and canvass ev'ry pray'r. + [i]Unnumber'd suppliants crowd preferment's gate, +Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great; +Delusive fortune hears th' incessant call, +They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall. +On ev'ry stage the foes of peace attend, +Hate dogs their flight, and insult mocks their end. +Love ends with hope, the sinking statesman's door +Pours in the morning worshipper no more; +For growing names the weekly scribbler lies, +To growing wealth the dedicator flies; +From ev'ry room descends the painted face, +That hung the bright palladium of the place; +And, smok'd in kitchens, or in auctions sold, +To better features yields the frame of gold; +For now no more we trace in ev'ry line +Heroick worth, benevolence divine: +The form, distorted, justifies the fall, +And detestation rids th' indignant wall. + But will not Britain hear the last appeal, +Sign her foes' doom, or guard her fav'rites' zeal? +Through freedom's sons no more remonstrance rings, +Degrading nobles and controling kings; +Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats, +And ask no questions but the price of votes; +With weekly libels and septennial ale, +Their wish is full to riot and to rail. + In full-blown dignity, see Wolsey stand, +Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand; +To him the church, the realm their pow'rs consign, +Through him the rays of regal bounty shine; +Turn'd by his nod the stream of honour flows, +His smile alone security bestows. +Still to new heights his restless wishes tow'r, +Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r; +Till conquest, unresisted, ceas'd to please, +And rights, submitted, left him none to seize. +At length his sov'reign frowns--the train of state +Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate. +Where'er he turns, he meets a stranger's eye, +His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly; +Now drops, at once, the pride of awful state, +The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate, +The regal palace, the luxurious board, +The liv'ried army, and the menial lord. +With age, with cares, with maladies oppress'd, +He seeks the refuge of monastick rest: +Grief aids disease, remember'd folly stings, +And his last sighs reproach the faith of kings. + Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine, +Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end, be thine? +Or liv'st thou now, with safer pride content, +[k]The wisest justice on the banks of Trent? +For, why did Wolsey, near the steeps of fate, +On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight? +Why but to sink beneath misfortune's blow, +With louder ruin to the gulfs below? + [l]What gave great Villiers to th' assassin's knife, +And fix'd disease on Harley's closing life? +What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde, +By kings protected, and to kings allied? +What but their wish indulg'd in courts to shine, +And pow'r too great to keep, or to resign? + [m]When first the college rolls receive his name, +The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame; + [n]Through all his veins the fever of renown +Spreads from the strong contagion of the gown; +O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread, +And [o]Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head. +Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth, +And virtue guard thee to the throne of truth! +Yet, should thy soul indulge the gen'rous heat +Till captive science yields her last retreat; +Should reason guide thee with her brightest ray, +And pour on misty doubt resistless day; +Should no false kindness lure to loose delight, +Nor praise relax, nor difficulty fright; +Should tempting novelty thy cell refrain, +[p]And sloth effuse her opiate fumes in vain; +Should beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart, +Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart; +Should no disease thy torpid veins invade, +Nor melancholy's phantoms haunt thy shade; +Yet hope not life, from grief or danger free, +Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee: +Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, +And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; +There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, +Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the gaol[q]. +See nations, slowly wise and meanly just, +To buried merit raise the tardy bust. +If dreams yet flatter, once again attend, +Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end[r]. +Nor deem, when learning her last prize bestows, +The glitt'ring eminence exempt from woes; +See, when the vulgar scape[s], despis'd or aw'd, +Rebellion's vengeful talons seize on Laud. +From meaner minds though smaller fines content, +The plunder'd palace, or sequester'd rent; +Mark'd out by dang'rous parts, he meets the shock, +And fatal learning leads him to the block: +Around his tomb let art and genius weep, +But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and sleep. + [t]The festal blazes, the triumphal show, +The ravish'd standard, and the captive foe, +The senate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale, +With force resistless o'er the brave prevail. +Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Asia whirl'd; +For such the steady Romans shook the world; +For such, in distant lands, the Britons shine, +And stain with blood the Danube or the Rhine; +This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm, +Till fame supplies the universal charm. +Yet reason frowns on war's unequal game, +Where wasted nations raise a single name; +And mortgag'd states, their grandsires' wreaths regret. +From age to age in everlasting debt; +Wreaths which, at last, the dear-bought right convey +To rust on medals, or on stones decay. + [u]On what foundation stands the warriour's pride, +How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; +A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, +No dangers fright him, and no labours tire; +[x]O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, +Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; +No joys to him pacifick sceptres yield, +War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; +Behold surrounding kings their pow'rs combine, +And one capitulate, and one resign; +Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; +"Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till nought remain, +On Moscow's walls till Gothick standards fly, +And all be mine beneath the polar sky." +The march begins in military state, +And nations on his eye suspended wait; +Stern famine guards the solitary coast, +And winter barricades the realm of frost; +He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay;-- +Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa's day: +The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, +And shows his miseries in distant lands; +Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait, +While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. +But did not chance, at length, her errour mend? +Did no subverted empire mark his end? +Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? +Or hostile millions press him to the ground? +His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, +A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; +He left the name, at which the world grew pale, +To point a moral, or adorn a tale. + [y]All times their scenes of pompous woes afford, +From Persia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord. +In gay hostility and barb'rous pride, +With half mankind embattl'd at his side, +Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain prey, +And starves exhausted regions in his way; +Attendant flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er, +Till counted myriads sooth his pride no more; +Fresh praise is try'd till madness fires his mind, +The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind, +New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still bestow'd, +Till rude resistance lops the spreading god; +The daring Greeks deride the martial show, +And heap their valleys with the gaudy foe; +Th' insulted sea, with humbler thoughts, he gains; +A single skiff to speed his flight remains; +Th' incumber'd oar scarce leaves the dreaded coast +Through purple billows and a floating host. + The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour, +Tries the dread summits of Caesarean pow'r, +With unexpected legions bursts away, +And sees defenceless realms receive his sway;-- +Short sway! fair Austria spreads her mournful charms, +The queen, the beauty, sets the world in arms; +From hill to hill the beacon's rousing blaze +Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praise; +The fierce Croatian, and the wild Hussar, +[z]With all the sons of ravage, crowd the war; +The baffled prince, in honour's flatt'ring bloom +Of hasty greatness, finds the fatal doom, +His foes' derision, and his subjects' blame, +And steals to death from anguish and from shame. + [aa]Enlarge my life with multitude of days! +In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays; +Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know, +That life protracted is protracted woe. +Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, +And shuts up all the passages of joy; +In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, +The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r; +With listless eyes the dotard views the store, +He views, and wonders that they please no more; +Now pall the tasteless meats, and joyless wines, +And luxury with sighs her slave resigns. +Approach, ye minstrels, try the soothing strain, +[bb]Diffuse the tuneful lenitives of pain: +No sounds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear, +Though dancing mountains witness'd Orpheus near; +Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend, +Nor sweeter musick of a virtuous friend; +But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue, +Perversely grave, or positively wrong. +The still returning tale, and ling'ring jest, +Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest, +While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring sneer, +And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear; +The watchful guests still hint the last offence; +The daughter's petulance, the son's expense, +Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill, +And mould his passions till they make his will. + Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, +Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade; +But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains, +And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; +He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, +His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; +Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, +Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. + But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime +Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime; +[cc]An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, +And glides in modest innocence away; +Whose peaceful day benevolence endears, +Whose night congratulating conscience cheers; +The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend; +Such age there is, and who shall wish its end[dd]? + Yet e'en on this her load misfortune flings, +To press the weary minutes' flagging wings; +New sorrow rises as the day returns, +A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns. +Now kindred merit fills the sable bier, +Now lacerated friendship claims a tear; +Year chases year, decay pursues decay, +Still drops some joy from with'ring life away; +New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage, +Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage, +Till pitying nature signs the last release, +And bids afflicted worth retire to peace. + But few there are whom hours like these await, +Who set unclouded in the gulfs of fate. +From Lydia's monarch should the search descend, +By Solon caution'd to regard his end, +In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, +Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! +From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, +And Swift expires a driv'ller and a show. + [ee]The teeming mother, anxious for her race, +Begs for each birth the fortune of a face; +Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring; +And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king. +Ye nymphs of rosy lips and radiant eyes, +Whom pleasure keeps too busy to be wise; +Whom joys with soft varieties invite, +By day the frolick, and the dance by night; +Who frown with vanity, who smile with art, +And ask the latest fashion of the heart; +What care, what rules, your heedless charms shall save, +Each nymph your rival, and each youth your slave? +Against your fame with fondness hate combines, +The rival batters, and the lover mines. +With distant voice neglected virtue calls, +Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance falls; +Tir'd with contempt, she quits the slipp'ry reign, +And pride and prudence take her seat in vain. +In crowd at once, where none the pass defend, +The harmless freedom, and the private friend. +The guardians yield, by force superiour ply'd: +To int'rest, prudence; and to flatt'ry, pride. +Here beauty falls, betray'd, despis'd, distress'd, +And hissing infamy proclaims the rest. + [ff]Where then shall hope and fear their objects find? +Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind? +Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, +Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? +Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, +No cries invoke the mercies of the skies? +Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain +Which heav'n may hear; nor deem religion vain. +Still raise for good the supplicating voice, +But leave to heav'n the measure and the choice. +Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes discern afar +The secret ambush of a specious pray'r; +Implore his aid, in his decisions rest, +Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best. +Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, +And strong devotion to the skies aspires[gg], +Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, +Obedient passions, and a will resign'd; +For love, which scarce collective man can fill; +For patience, sov'reign o'er transmuted ill; +For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, +[hh]Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat: +These goods for man the laws of heav'n ordain; +These goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain; +With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, +And makes the happiness she does not find. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Ver. 1--11. +[b] Ver. 12--22. +[c] In the first edition, "the _bonny_ traitor!" an evident + allusion to the Scotch lords who suffered for the rebellion in 1745. +[d] Clang around. +[e] New fears. +[f] Ver. 23-37. +[g] Yet still the gen'ral cry. +[h] Ver. 28-55. +[i] Ver. 56--107. +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]] +[k] The richest landlord. +[l] Ver. 108--113. +[m] Ver. 114--132. +[n] + _Resistless burns the_ fever of renown, + _Caught_ from the strong contagion of the gown. + + Mr. Boswell tells us, that when he remarked to Dr. Johnson, that + there was an awkward repetition of the word spreads in this passage, + he altered it to "Burns from the strong contagion of the gown;" but + this expression, it appears, was only resumed from the reading in + the first edition. +[o] There is a tradition, that the study of friar Bacon, built on an + arch over the bridge, will fall, when a man greater than Bacon shall + pass under it. To prevent so shocking an accident, it was pulled + down many years since. +[p] And sloth's _bland_ opiates _shed_ their fumes in vain. +[q] The _garret_ and the gaol. +[r] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxviii. p. 951, 1027. +[s] This was first written, "See, when the vulgar scap_ed_;" but, + as the rest of the paragraph was in the present tense, he altered it + to scape_s_; but again recollecting that the word _vulgar_ + is never used as a singular substantive, he adopted the reading of + the text. +[t] Ver. 133--146. +[u] Ver. 147--167. + +[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]] + +[x] O'er love or _force_. +[y] Ver. 168--187. +[z] _And_ all the sons. +[aa] Ver. 188--288. +[bb] And _yield_. +[cc] An age that melts _in_. +[dd] _Could_ wish its end. +[ee] Ver. 289-345. +[ff] Ver. 346-366. +[gg] + Yet, _with_ the sense of sacred presence _press'd_, + _When_ strong devotion _fills thy glowing breast_. + +[hh] _Thinks_ death. + + + +PROLOGUE, + +SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, AT THE OPENING OF THE +THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY LANE, 1747. + +When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes +First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; +Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, +Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new: +Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, +And panting time toil'd after him in vain: +His pow'rful strokes presiding truth impress'd, +And unresisted passion storm'd the breast. + Then Jonson came, instructed from the school +To please in method, and invent by rule; +His studious patience and laborious art, +By regular approach, assail'd the heart: +Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays; +For those, who durst not censure, scarce could praise: +A mortal born, he met the gen'ral doom, +But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb. + The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, +Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakespeare's flame: +Themselves they studied, as they felt, they writ; +Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit; +Vice always found a sympathetick friend; +They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend. +Yet bards, like these, aspir'd to lasting praise, +And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days. +Their cause was gen'ral, their supports were strong; +Their slaves were willing, and their reign was long: +Till shame regain'd the post that sense betray'd, +And virtue call'd oblivion to her aid. + Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd, as refin'd, +For years the pow'r of tragedy declin'd; +From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, +Till declamation roar'd, while passion slept; +Yet still did virtue deign the stage to tread, +Philosophy remain'd, though nature fled. +But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit, +She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of wit; +Exulting folly hail'd the joyful day, +And pantomime and song confirm'd her sway. + But who the coming changes can presage, +And mark the future periods of the stage? +Perhaps, if skill could distant times explore, +New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store; +Perhaps, where Lear has ray'd, and Hamlet dy'd, +On flying cars new sorcerers may ride: +Perhaps, (for who can guess th' effects of chance?) +Here Hunt[a] may box, or Mahomet may dance. + Hard is his lot that, here by fortune plac'd, +Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; +With ev'ry meteor of caprice must play, +And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. +Ah! let not censure term our fate our choice, +The stage but echoes back the publick voice; +The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, +For we that live to please, must please to live. + Then prompt no more the follies you decry, +As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die; +'Tis yours, this night, to bid the reign commence +Of rescued nature and reviving sense; +To chase the charms of sound, the pomp of show, +For useful mirth and salutary woe; +Bid scenick virtue form the rising age, +And truth diffuse her radiance from the stage. + +[a] Hunt, a famous boxer on the stage; Mahomet, a ropedancer, who had + exhibited at Covent garden theatre the winter before, said to be a + Turk. + + + +PREFATORY NOTICE TO + +THE TRAGEDY OF IRENE. + +The history of this tragedy's composition is interesting, as affording +dates to distinguish Johnson's literary progress. It was begun, and +considerably advanced, while he kept a school at Edial, near Lichfield, +in 1736. In the following year, when he relinquished the task of a +schoolmaster, so little congenial with his mind and disposition, and +resolved to seek his fortunes in the metropolis, Irene was carried along +with him as a foundation for his success. Mr. Walmsley, one of his early +friends, recommended him, and his fellow-adventurer, Garrick, to the +notice and protection of Colson, the mathematician. Unless Mrs. Piozzi +is correct, in rescuing the character of Colson from any identity with +that of Gelidus, in the Rambler[a], Johnson entertained no lively +recollection of his first patron's kindness. He was ever warm in +expressions of gratitude for favours, conferred on him in his season of +want and obscurity; and from his deep silence here, we may conclude, +that the recluse mathematician did not evince much sympathy with the +distresses of the young candidate for dramatic fame. Be this, however, +as it may, Johnson, shortly after this introduction, took lodgings at +Greenwich, to proceed with his Irene in quiet and retirement, but soon +returned to Lichfield, to complete it. The same year that saw these +successive disappointments, witnessed also Johnson's return to London, +with his tragedy completed, and its rejection by Fleetwood, the +patentee, at that time, of Drury lane theatre. Twelve years elapsed, +before it was acted, and, after many alterations by his pupil and +companion, Garrick, who was then manager of the theatre, it was, by his +zeal, and the support of the most eminent performers of the day, carried +through a representation of nine nights. Johnson's profits, after the +deduction of expenses, and together with the hundred pounds, which he +received from Robert Dodsley, for the copy, were nearly three hundred +pounds. So fallacious were the hopes cherished by Walmsley, that Johnson +would "turn out a fine tragedy writer[b]." + +"The tragedy of Irene," says Mr. Murphy, "is founded on a passage in +Knolles's History of the Turks;" an author highly commended in the +Rambler, No. 122. An incident in the life of Mahomet the great, first +emperor of the Turks, is the hinge, on which the fable is made to move. +The substance of the story is shortly this:--In 1453, Mahomet laid siege +to Constantinople, and, having reduced the place, became enamoured of a +fair Greek, whose name was Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the +law of the prophet, and to grace his throne. Enraged at this intended +marriage, the janizaries formed a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor. To +avert the impending danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, +"catching, with one hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the +hair of her head, and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one +blow, struck off her head, to the great terror of them all; and, having +so done, said unto them, 'Now, by this, judge whether your emperor is +able to bridle his affections or not[c].'" We are not unjust, we +conceive, in affirming, that there is an interest kept alive in the +plain and simple narrative of the old historian, which is lost in the +declamatory tragedy of Johnson. + +It is sufficient, for our present purpose, to confess that he _has_ +failed in this his only dramatic attempt; we shall endeavour, more +fully, to show _how_ he has failed, in our discussion of his powers as a +critic. That they were not blinded to the defects of others, by his own +inefficiency in dramatic composition, is fully proved by his judicious +remarks on Cato, which was constructed on a plan similar to Irene: and +the strongest censure, ever passed on this tragedy, was conveyed in +Garrick's application of Johnson's own severe, but correct critique, on +the wits of Charles, in whose works + + "Declamation roar'd, while passion slept."[d] + +"Addison speaks the language of poets," says Johnson, in his preface to +Shakespeare, "and Shakespeare of men. We find in Cato innumerable +beauties, which enamour us of its author, but we see nothing that +acquaints us with human sentiments, or human actions; we place it with +the fairest and the noblest progeny which judgment propagates by +conjunction with learning; but Othello is the vigorous and vivacious +offspring of observation, impregnated by genius. Cato affords a splendid +exhibition of artificial and fictitious manners, and delivers just and +noble sentiments, in diction easy, elevated and harmonious; but its +hopes and fears communicate no vibration to the heart: the composition +refers us only to the writer; we pronounce the name of Cato, but we +think on Addison." The critic's remarks on the same tragedy, in his Life +of Addison, are as applicable as the above to his own production. "Cato +is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama; rather a succession of just +sentiments in elegant language, than a representation of natural +affections, or of any state probable or possible in human life. Nothing +here 'excites or assuages emotion:' here is no 'magical power of raising +phantastick terrour or wild anxiety.' The events are expected without +solicitude, and are remembered without joy or sorrow. Of the agents we +have no care; we consider not what they are doing, or what they are +suffering; we wish only to know what they have to say." + +But, while we thus pronounce Johnson's failure in the production of +dramatic effect, we will not withhold our tribute of admiration from +Irene, as a moral piece. For, although a remark of Fox's on an +unpublished tragedy of Burke's, that it was rather rhetorical than +poetical, may be applied to the work under consideration; still it +abounds, throughout, with the most elevated and dignified lessons of +morality and virtue. The address of Demetrius to the aged Cali, on the +dangers of procrastination[e]; Aspasia's reprobation of Irene's +meditated apostasy[f]; and the allusive panegyric on the British +constitution[g], may be enumerated, as examples of its excellence in +sentiment and diction. + +Lastly, we may consider Irene, as one other illustrious proof, that the +most strict adherence to the far-famed unities, the most harmonious +versification, and the most correct philosophy, will not vie with a +single and simple touch of nature, expressed in simple and artless +language. "But how rich in reputation must that author be, who can spare +_an Irene_, and not feel the loss [h]." + +FOOTNOTES +[a] Rambler, No. 24, and note. +[b] Boswell's Life, i. +[c] Murphy's Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson. +[d] Prologue at the opening of Drury lane theatre, 1747. +[e] Act iii. scene ii. "To-morrow's action!" &c. +[f] Act iii. scene viii. "Reflect, that life and death," &c. +[g] Act i. scene ii. "If there be any land, as fame reports," &c. +[h] Dr. Young's remark on Addison's Cato. See his Conjectures on + Original Composition. Works, vol. v. + +PROLOGUE. + +Ye glitt'ring train, whom lace and velvet bless, +Suspend the soft solicitudes of dress! +From grov'ling bus'ness and superfluous care, +Ye sons of avarice, a moment spare! +Vot'ries of fame, and worshippers of power, +Dismiss the pleasing phantoms for an hour! +Our daring bard, with spirit unconfin'd, +Spreads wide the mighty moral for mankind. +Learn here, how heaven supports the virtuous mind, +Daring, though calm; and vig'rous, though resign'd; +Learn here, what anguish racks the guilty breast, +In pow'r dependant, in success depress'd. +Learn here, that peace from innocence must flow; +All else is empty sound, and idle show. + +If truths, like these, with pleasing language join; +Ennobled, yet unchang'd, if nature shine; +If no wild draught depart from reason's rules; +Nor gods his heroes, nor his lovers fools; +Intriguing wits! his artless plot forgive; +And spare him, beauties! though his lovers live. + +Be this, at least, his praise, be this his pride; +To force applause, no modern arts are try'd. +Should partial catcals all his hopes confound, +He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound. +Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit, +He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit; +No snares, to captivate the judgment, spreads, +Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your heads. +Unmov'd, though witlings sneer, and rivals rail, +Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail, +He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain, +With merit needless, and without it vain. +In reason, nature, truth, he dares to trust: +Ye fops, be silent: and, ye wits, be just! + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + MEN. + +MAHOMET, Emperour of the Turks, Mr. BARRY. + +CALI BASSA, First vizier, Mr. BERRY. + +MUSTAPHA, A Turkish aga, Mr. SOWDEN. + +ABDALLA, An officer, Mr. HAVARD. + +HASAN, \ / Mr. USHER, + Turkish captains, +CARAZA, / \ Mr. BURTON. + +DEMETRIUS, \ / Mr. GARRICK, + Greek noblemen, +LEONTIUS, / \ MR. BLAKES. + +MURZA, An eunuch, Mr. KING. + + WOMEN. + +ASPASIA, \ / Mrs. GIBBER, + Greek ladies, +IRENE, / \ Mrs. PRITCHARD. + +Attendants on IRENE. + + +ACT I.--SCENE I. + +DEMETRIUS _and_ LEONTIUS, _in Turkish habits_. + + LEONTIUS. +And, is it thus Demetrius meets his friend, +Hid in the mean disguise of Turkish robes, +With servile secrecy to lurk in shades, +And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans? + + DEMETRIUS. +Till breathless fury rested from destruction, +These groans were fatal, these disguises vain: +But, now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd +Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder, +No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood; +And weary cruelty remits her tortures. + + LEONTIUS. +Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of transient hope, +No soothing interval of peaceful sorrow: +The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest; +--The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless, +The last corruption of degen'rate man! +Urg'd by th' imperious soldiers' fierce command, +The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns, +Pregnant with stores, that India's mines might envy, +Th' accumulated wealth of toiling ages. + + DEMETRIUS. +That wealth, too sacred for their country's use! +That wealth, too pleasing to be lost for freedom! +That wealth, which, granted to their weeping prince, +Had rang'd embattled nations at our gates! +But, thus reserv'd to lure the wolves of Turkey, +Adds shame to grief, and infamy to ruin. +Lamenting av'rice, now too late, discovers +Her own neglected in the publick safety. + + LEONTIUS. +Reproach not misery.--The sons of Greece, +Ill fated race! so oft besieg'd in vain, +With false security beheld invasion. +Why should they fear?--That pow'r that kindly spreads +The clouds, a signal of impending show'rs, +To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade, +Beheld without concern expiring Greece; +And not one prodigy foretold our fate. + + DEMETRIUS. +A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it: +A feeble government, eluded laws, +A factious populace, luxurious nobles, +And all the maladies of sinking states. +When publick villany, too strong for justice, +Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin, +Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders, +Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard? +When some neglected fabrick nods beneath +The weight of years, and totters to the tempest, +Must heav'n despatch the messengers of light, +Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall? + + LEONTIUS. +Well might the weakness of our empire sink +Before such foes of more than human force: +Some pow'r invisible, from heav'n or hell, +Conducts their armies, and asserts their cause. + + DEMETRIUS. +And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought +Beyond the pow'r of constancy and courage? +Did unresisted lightning aid their cannon? +Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts? +'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Leontius, +That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs. + + LEONTIUS. +Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compassion. +Each night, protected by the friendly darkness, +Quitting my close retreat, I range the city, +And, weeping, kiss the venerable ruins; +With silent pangs, I view the tow'ring domes, +Sacred to pray'r; and wander through the streets, +Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty, +And jollity maintain'd eternal revels-- + + DEMETRIUS. +--How chang'd, alas!--Now ghastly desolation, +In triumph, sits upon our shatter'd spires; +Now superstition, ignorance, and errour, +Usurp our temples, and profane our altars. + + LEONTIUS. +From ev'ry palace bursts a mingled clamour, +The dreadful dissonance of barb'rous triumph, +Shrieks of affright, and waitings of distress. +Oft when the cries of violated beauty +Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast, +I felt thy pains, and trembled for Aspasia. + + DEMETRIUS. +Aspasia!--spare that lov'd, that mournful name: +Dear, hapless maid--tempestuous grief o'erbears +My reasoning pow'rs--Dear, hapless, lost Aspasia! + + LEONTIUS. +Suspend the thought. + + DEMETRIUS. + All thought on her is madness; +Yet let me think--I see the helpless maid; +Behold the monsters gaze with savage rapture, +Behold how lust and rapine struggle round her! + + LEONTIUS. +Awake, Demetrius, from this dismal dream; +Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; +Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; +Think on the sudden change of human scenes; +Think on the various accidents of war; +Think on the mighty pow'r of awful virtue; +Think on that providence that guards the good. + + DEMETRIUS. +O providence! extend thy care to me; +For courage droops, unequal to the combat; +And weak philosophy denies her succours. +Sure, some kind sabre in the heat of battle, +Ere yet the foe found leisure to be cruel, +Dismiss'd her to the sky. + + LEONTIUS. + Some virgin martyr, +Perhaps, enamour'd of resembling virtue, +With gentle hand, restrain'd the streams of life, +And snatch'd her timely from her country's fate. + + DEMETRIUS. +From those bright regions of eternal day, +Where now thou shin'st among thy fellow-saints, +Array'd in purer light, look down on me: +In pleasing visions and assuasive dreams, +O! sooth my soul, and teach me how to lose thee. + + LEONTIUS. +Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius: +I come obedient to thy friendly summons, +And hop'd to share thy counsels, not thy sorrows: +While thus we mourn the fortune of Aspasia, +To what are we reserv'd? + + DEMETRIUS. + To what I know not: +But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; +If happiness can be, without Aspasia. + + LEONTIUS. +But whence this new-sprung hope? + + DEMETRIUS. + From Cali bassa, +The chief, whose wisdom guides the Turkish counsels. +He, tir'd of slav'ry, though the highest slave, +Projects, at once, our freedom and his own; +And bids us, thus disguis'd, await him here. + + LEONTIUS. +Can he restore the state he could not save? +In vain, when Turkey's troops assail'd our walls, +His kind intelligence betray'd their measures; +Their arms prevail'd, though Cali was our friend. + + DEMETRIUS. +When the tenth sun had set upon our sorrows, +At midnight's private hour, a voice unknown +Sounds in my sleeping ear, 'Awake, Demetrius, +Awake, and follow me to better fortunes.' +Surpris'd I start, and bless the happy dream; +Then, rousing, know the fiery chief Abdalla, +Whose quick impatience seiz'd my doubtful hand, +And led me to the shore where Cali stood, +Pensive, and list'ning to the beating surge. +There, in soft hints, and in ambiguous phrase, +With all the diffidence of long experience, +That oft had practis'd fraud, and oft detected, +The vet'ran courtier half reveal'd his project. +By his command, equipp'd for speedy flight, +Deep in a winding creek a galley lies, +Mann'd with the bravest of our fellow-captives, +Selected by my care, a hardy band, +That long to hail thee chief. + + LEONTIUS. + But what avails +So small a force? or, why should Cali fly? +Or, how can Call's flight restore our country? + + DEMETRIUS. +Reserve these questions for a safer hour; +Or hear himself, for see the bassa comes. + + +SCENE II. + +DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI. + + CALI. +Now summon all thy soul, illustrious Christian! +Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee: +The courtier's policy, the sage's firmness, +The warriour's ardour, and the patriot's zeal. +If, chasing past events with vain pursuit, +Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being, +A single thought now rove, recall it home.-- +But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause, +The cause of liberty, the cause of nations? + + DEMETRIUS. +Observe him closely, with a statesman's eye, +Thou, that hast long perus'd the draughts of nature, +And know'st the characters of vice and virtue, +Left by the hand of heav'n on human clay. + +CALI. +His mien is lofty, his demeanour great; +Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air; +Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes. +Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen, +But cautious age suspects the flatt'ring form, +And only credits what experience tells. +Has silence press'd her seal upon his lips? +Does adamantine faith invest his heart? +Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown? +Will he not melt before ambition's fire? +Will he not soften in a friend's embrace? +Or flow dissolving in a woman's tears? + + DEMETRIUS. +Sooner the trembling leaves shall find a voice, +And tell the secrets of their conscious walks; +Sooner the breeze shall catch the flying sounds, +And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason. +Your slaughter'd multitudes, that swell the shore +With monuments of death, proclaim his courage; +Virtue and liberty engross his soul, +And leave no place for perfidy, or fear. + + LEONTIUS. +I scorn a trust unwillingly repos'd; +Demetrius will not lead me to dishonour; +Consult in private, call me, when your scheme +Is ripe for action, and demands the sword. [_Going_. + + DEMETRIUS. +Leontius, stay. + + CALI. +Forgive an old man's weakness, +And share the deepest secrets of my soul, +My wrongs, my fears, my motives, my designs.-- +When unsuccessful wars, and civil factions +Embroil'd the Turkish state, our sultan's father, +Great Amurath, at my request, forsook +The cloister's ease, resum'd the tott'ring throne, +And snatch'd the reins of abdicated pow'r +From giddy Mahomet's unskilful hand. +This fir'd the youthful king's ambitious breast: +He murmurs vengeance, at the name of Cali, +And dooms my rash fidelity to ruin. + + DEMETRIUS. +Unhappy lot of all that shine in courts, +For forc'd compliance, or for zealous virtue, +Still odious to the monarch, or the people. + + CALI. +Such are the woes, when arbitrary pow'r +And lawless passion hold the sword of justice. +If there be any land, as fame reports, +Where common laws restrain the prince and subject, +A happy land, where circulating pow'r +Flows through each member of th' embodied state; +Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, +Her grateful sons shine bright with every virtue; +Untainted with the lust of innovation, +Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule +Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature +That links the jarring elements in peace. + + LEONTIUS. +But say, great bassa, why the sultan's anger, +Burning in vain, delays the stroke of death? + + CALI. +Young, and unsettled in his father's kingdoms, +Fierce as he was, he dreaded to destroy +The empire's darling, and the soldier's boast; +But now confirm'd, and swelling with his conquests, +Secure, he tramples my declining fame, +Frowns unrestrain'd, and dooms me with his eyes. + + DEMETRIUS. +What can reverse thy doom? + + CALI. + The tyrant's death. + + DEMETRIUS. +But Greece is still forgot. + + CALI. + On Asia's coast, +Which lately bless'd my gentle government, +Soon as the sultan's unexpected fate +Fills all th' astonish'd empire with confusion, +My policy shall raise an easy throne; +The Turkish pow'rs from Europe shall retreat, +And harass Greece no more with wasteful war. +A galley mann'd with Greeks, thy charge, Leontius, +Attends to waft us to repose and safety. + + DEMETRIUS. +That vessel, if observ'd, alarms the court, +And gives a thousand fatal questions birth: +Why stor'd for flight? and why prepar'd by Cali? + + CALI. +This hour I'll beg, with unsuspecting face, +Leave to perform my pilgrimage to Mecca; +Which granted, hides my purpose from the world, +And, though refus'd, conceals it from the sultan. + + LEONTIUS. +How can a single hand attempt a life, +Which armies guard, and citadels enclose? + + CALI. +Forgetful of command, with captive beauties, +Far from his troops, he toys his hours away. +A roving soldier seiz'd, in Sophia's temple, +A virgin, shining with distinguish'd charms, +And brought his beauteous plunder to the sultan-- + + DEMETRIUS. +In Sophia's temple!--What alarm!--Proceed. + + CALI. +The sultan gaz'd, he wonder'd, and he lov'd: +In passion lost, he bade the conqu'ring fair +Renounce her faith, and be the queen of Turkey. +The pious maid, with modest indignation, +Threw back the glitt'ring bribe. + + DEMETRIUS. + Celestial goodness! +It must, it must be she;--her name? + + CALI. + Aspasia. + + DEMETRIUS. +What hopes, what terrours, rush upon my soul! +O lead me quickly to the scene of fate; +Break through the politician's tedious forms; +Aspasia calls me, let me fly to save her. + + LEONTIUS. +Did Mahomet reproach, or praise her virtue? + + CALI. +His offers, oft repeated, still refus'd, +At length rekindled his accustomed fury, +And chang'd th' endearing smile, and am'rous whisper +To threats of torture, death, and violation. + + DEMETRIUS. +These tedious narratives of frozen age +Distract my soul;--despatch thy ling'ring tale; +Say, did a voice from heav'n restrain the tyrant? +Did interposing angels guard her from him? + + CALI. +Just in the moment of impending fate, +Another plund'rer brought the bright Irene; +Of equal beauty, but of softer mien, +Fear in her eye, submission on her tongue, +Her mournful charms attracted his regards, +Disarm'd his rage, and, in repeated visits, +Gain'd all his heart; at length, his eager love +To her transferr'd the offer of a crown, + + LEONTIUS. +Nor found again the bright temptation fail? + + CALI. +Trembling to grant, nor daring to refuse, +While heav'n and Mahomet divide her fears, +With coy caresses and with pleasing wiles +She feeds his hopes, and sooths him to delay. +For her, repose is banish'd from the night, +And bus'ness from the day: in her apartments +He lives-- + + LEONTIUS. + And there must fall. + + CALI. +But yet, th' attempt +Is hazardous. + + LEONTIUS. + Forbear to speak of hazards; +What has the wretch, that has surviv'd his country, +His friends, his liberty, to hazard? + + CALI. + Life. + + DEMETRIUS. +Th' inestimable privilege of breathing! +Important hazard! What's that airy bubble, +When weigh'd with Greece, with virtue, with Aspasia?-- +A floating atom, dust that falls, unheeded, +Into the adverse scale, nor shakes the balance. + + CALI. +At least, this day be calm--If we succeed, +Aspasia's thine, and all thy life is rapture.-- +See! Mustapha, the tyrant's minion, comes; +Invest Leontius with his new command; +And wait Abdalla's unsuspected visits: +Remember freedom, glory, Greece, and love. +[_Exeunt_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + MUSTAPHA. +By what enchantment does this lovely Greek +Hold in her chains the captivated sultan? +He tires his fav'rites with Irene's praise, +And seeks the shades to muse upon Irene; +Irene steals, unheeded, from his tongue, +And mingles, unperceiv'd, with ev'ry thought. + + CALI. +Why should the sultan shun the joys of beauty, +Or arm his breast against the force of love? +Love, that with sweet vicissitude relieves +The warriour's labours and the monarch's cares. +But, will she yet receive the faith of Mecca? + + MUSTAPHA. +Those pow'rful tyrants of the female breast, +Fear and ambition, urge her to compliance; +Dress'd in each charm of gay magnificence, +Alluring grandeur courts her to his arms, +Religion calls her from the wish'd embrace, +Paints future joys, and points to distant glories. + + CALI. +Soon will th' unequal contest be decided. +Prospects, obscur'd by distance, faintly strike; +Each pleasure brightens, at its near approach, +And ev'ry danger shocks with double horrour. + + MUSTAPHA. +How shall I scorn the beautiful apostate! +How will the bright Aspasia shine above her! + + CALI. +Should she, for proselytes are always zealous, +With pious warmth receive our prophet's law-- + + MUSTAPHA. +Heav'n will contemn the mercenary fervour, +Which love of greatness, not of truth, inflames. + + CALI. +Cease, cease thy censures; for the sultan comes +Alone, with am'rous haste to seek his love. + + +SCENE IV. + +MAHOMET, CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + CALI. +Hail! terrour of the monarchs of the world; +Unshaken be thy throne, as earth's firm base; +Live, till the sun forgets to dart his beams, +And weary planets loiter in their courses! + + MAHOMET. +But, Cali, let Irene share thy prayers; +For what is length of days, without Irene? +I come from empty noise, and tasteless pomp, +From crowds, that hide a monarch from himself, +To prove the sweets of privacy and friendship, +And dwell upon the beauties of Irene. + + CALI. +O may her beauties last, unchang'd by time, +As those that bless the mansions of the good! + + MAHOMET. +Each realm, where beauty turns the graceful shape, +Swells the fair breast, or animates the glance, +Adorns my palace with its brightest virgins; +Yet, unacquainted with these soft emotions, +I walk'd superiour through the blaze of charms, +Prais'd without rapture, left without regret. +Why rove I now, when absent from my fair, +From solitude to crowds, from crowds to solitude, +Still restless, till I clasp the lovely maid, +And ease my loaded soul upon her bosom? + + MUSTAPHA. +Forgive, great sultan, that intrusive duty +Inquires the final doom of Menodorus, +The Grecian counsellor. + + MAHOMET. + Go, see him die; +His martial rhet'rick taught the Greeks resistance; +Had they prevail'd, I ne'er had known Irene. + +[_Exit_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE V. + +MAHOMET, CALI. + + MAHOMET. +Remote from tumult, in th' adjoining palace, +Thy care shall guard this treasure of my soul: +There let Aspasia, since my fair entreats it, +With converse chase the melancholy moments. +Sure, chill'd with sixty winter camps, thy blood, +At sight of female charms, will glow no more. + + CALI. +These years, unconquer'd Mahomet, demand +Desires more pure, and other cares than love. +Long have I wish'd, before our prophet's tomb, +To pour my pray'rs for thy successful reign, +To quit the tumults of the noisy camp, +And sink into the silent grave in peace. + + MAHOMET. +What! think of peace, while haughty Scanderbeg, +Elate with conquest, in his native mountains, +Prowls o'er the wealthy spoils of bleeding Turkey! +While fair Hungaria's unexhausted valleys +Pour forth their legions; and the roaring Danube +Rolls half his floods, unheard, through shouting camps! +Nor could'st thou more support a life of sloth +Than Amurath-- + + CALI. + Still, full of Amurath! [_Aside_. + + MAHOMET. +Than Amurath, accustom'd to command, +Could bear his son upon the Turkish throne. + + CALI. +This pilgrimage our lawgiver ordain'd-- + + MAHOMET. +For those, who could not please by nobler service.-- +Our warlike prophet loves an active faith. +The holy flame of enterprising virtue +Mocks the dull vows of solitude and penance, +And scorns the lazy hermit's cheap devotion. +Shine thou, distinguish'd by superiour merit; +With wonted zeal pursue the task of war, +Till ev'ry nation reverence the koran, +And ev'ry suppliant lift his eyes to Mecca. + + CALI. +This regal confidence, this pious ardour, +Let prudence moderate, though not suppress. +Is not each realm, that smiles with kinder suns, +Or boasts a happier soil, already thine? +Extended empire, like expanded gold, +Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour. + + MAHOMET. +Preach thy dull politicks to vulgar kings, +Thou know'st not yet thy master's future greatness, +His vast designs, his plans of boundless pow'r. + When ev'ry storm in my domain shall roar, + When ev'ry wave shall beat a Turkish shore; + Then, Cali, shall the toils of battle cease, + Then dream of pray'r, and pilgrimage, and peace. + [_Exeunt_. + + +ACT II.--SCENE I. +ASPASIA, IRENE. + + IRENE. +Aspasia, yet pursue the sacred theme; +Exhaust the stores of pious eloquence, +And teach me to repel the sultan's passion. +Still, at Aspasia's voice, a sudden rapture +Exalts my soul, and fortifies my heart; +The glitt'ring vanities of empty greatness, +The hopes and fears, the joys and pains of life, +Dissolve in air, and vanish into nothing. + + ASPASIA. +Let nobler hopes and juster fears succeed, +And bar the passes of Irene's mind +Against returning guilt. + + IRENE. +When thou art absent, +Death rises to my view, with all his terrours; +Then visions, horrid as a murd'rer's dreams, +Chill my resolves, and blast my blooming virtue: +Stern torture shakes his bloody scourge before me, +And anguish gnashes on the fatal wheel. + + ASPASIA. +Since fear predominates in ev'ry thought, +And sways thy breast with absolute dominion, +Think on th' insulting scorn, the conscious pangs, +The future mis'ries, that wait th' apostate; +So shall timidity assist thy reason, +And wisdom into virtue turn thy frailty. + + IRENE. +Will not that pow'r, that form'd the heart of woman, +And wove the feeble texture of her nerves, +Forgive those fears that shake the tender frame? + + ASPASIA. +The weakness we lament, ourselves create; +Instructed, from our infant years, to court, +With counterfeited fears, the aid of man, +We learn to shudder at the rustling breeze, +Start at the light, and tremble in the dark; +Till, affectation ripening to belief, +And folly, frighted at her own chimeras, +Habitual cowardice usurps the soul. + + IRENE. +Not all, like thee, can brave the shocks of fate. +Thy soul, by nature great, enlarg'd by knowledge, +Soars unincumber'd with our idle cares, +And all Aspasia, but her beauty's man. + + ASPASIA. +Each gen'rous sentiment is thine, Demetrius, +Whose soul, perhaps, yet mindful of Aspasia, +Now hovers o'er this melancholy shade, +Well pleas'd to find thy precepts not forgotten. +Oh! could the grave restore the pious hero, +Soon would his art or valour set us free, +And bear us far from servitude and crimes. + + IRENE. +He yet may live. + + ASPASIA. + Alas! delusive dream! +Too well I know him; his immoderate courage, +Th' impetuous sallies of excessive virtue, +Too strong for love, have hurried him on death. + + +SCENE II. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, CALI, ABDALLA. + +CALI _to_ ABDALLA, _as they advance_. +Behold our future sultaness, Abdalla;-- +Let artful flatt'ry now, to lull suspicion, +Glide, through Irene, to the sultan's ear. +Would'st thou subdue th' obdurate cannibal +To tender friendship, praise him to his mistress. + +[_To_ IRENE.] + +Well may those eyes, that view these heav'nly charms, +Reject the daughters of contending kings; +For what are pompous titles, proud alliance, +Empire or wealth, to excellence like thine? + + ABDALLA. +Receive th' impatient sultan to thy arms; +And may a long posterity of monarchs, +The pride and terrour of succeeding days, +Rise from the happy bed; and future queens +Diffuse Irene's beauty through the world! + + IRENE. +Can Mahomet's imperial hand descend +To clasp a slave? or can a soul, like mine, +Unus'd to pow'r, and form'd for humbler scenes, +Support the splendid miseries of greatness? + + CALI. +No regal pageant, deck'd with casual honours, +Scorn'd by his subjects, trampled by his foes; +No feeble tyrant of a petty state, +Courts thee to shake on a dependant throne; +Born to command, as thou to charm mankind, +The sultan from himself derives his greatness. +Observe, bright maid, as his resistless voice +Drives on the tempest of destructive war, +How nation after nation falls before him. + + ABDALLA. +At his dread name the distant mountains shake +Their cloudy summits, and the sons of fierceness, +That range uncivilized from rock to rock, +Distrust th' eternal fortresses of nature, +And wish their gloomy caverns more obscure. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear this lavish pomp of dreadful praise; +The horrid images of war and slaughter +Renew our sorrows, and awake our fears. + + ABDALLA. +Cali, methinks yon waving trees afford +A doubtful glimpse of our approaching friends; +Just as I mark'd them, they forsook the shore, +And turn'd their hasty steps towards the garden. + + CALI. +Conduct these queens, Abdalla, to the palace: +Such heav'nly beauty, form'd for adoration, +The pride of monarchs, the reward of conquest! +Such beauty must not shine to vulgar eyes. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, _solus_. + +How heav'n, in scorn of human arrogance, +Commits to trivial chance the fate of nations! +While, with incessant thought, laborious man +Extends his mighty schemes of wealth and pow'r, +And towers and triumphs in ideal greatness; +Some accidental gust of opposition +Blasts all the beauties of his new creation, +O'erturns the fabrick of presumptuous reason, +And whelms the swelling architect beneath it. +Had not the breeze untwin'd the meeting boughs, +And, through the parted shade, disclos'd the Greeks, +Th' important hour had pass'd, unheeded, by, +In all the sweet oblivion of delight, +In all the fopperies of meeting lovers; +In sighs and tears, in transports and embraces, +In soft complaints, and idle protestations. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS. + + CALI. +Could omens fright the resolute and wise, +Well might we fear impending disappointments. + + LEONTIUS. +Your artful suit, your monarch's fierce denial, +The cruel doom of hapless Menodorus-- + + DEMETRIUS. +And your new charge, that dear, that heav'nly maid-- + + LEONTIUS. +All this we know already from Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such slight defeats but animate the brave +To stronger efforts and maturer counsels. + + CALI. +My doom confirm'd establishes my purpose. +Calmly he heard, till Amurath's resumption +Rose to his thought, and set his soul on fire: +When from his lips the fatal name burst out, +A sudden pause th' imperfect sense suspended, +Like the dread stillness of condensing storms. + + DEMETRIUS. +The loudest cries of nature urge us forward; +Despotick rage pursues the life of Cali; +His groaning country claims Leontius' aid; +And yet another voice, forgive me, Greece, +The pow'rful voice of love, inflames Demetrius; +Each ling'ring hour alarms me for Aspasia. + + CALI. +What passions reign among thy crew, Leontius? +Does cheerless diffidence oppress their hearts? +Or sprightly hope exalt their kindling spirits? +Do they, with pain, repress the struggling shout, +And listen eager to the rising wind? + + LEONTIUS. +All there is hope, and gaiety, and courage, +No cloudy doubts, or languishing delays; +Ere I could range them on the crowded deck, +At once a hundred voices thunder'd round me, +And ev'ry voice was liberty and Greece. + + DEMETRIUS. +Swift let us rush upon the careless tyrant, +Nor give him leisure for another crime. + + LEONTIUS. +Then let us now resolve, nor idly waste +Another hour in dull deliberation. + + CALI. +But see, where destin'd to protract our counsels, +Comes Mustapha.--Your Turkish robes conceal you. +Retire with speed, while I prepare to meet him +With artificial smiles, and seeming friendship. + + +SCENE V. + +CALI, MUSTAPHA. + + CALI. +I see the gloom, that low'rs upon thy brow; +These days of love and pleasure charm not thee; +Too slow these gentle constellations roll; +Thou long'st for stars, that frown on human kind, +And scatter discord from their baleful beams. + + MUSTAPHA. +How blest art thou, still jocund and serene, +Beneath the load of business, and of years! + + CALI. +Sure, by some wond'rous sympathy of souls, +My heart still beats responsive to the sultan's; +I share, by secret instinct, all his joys, +And feel no sorrow, while my sov'reign smiles. + + MUSTAPHA. +The sultan comes, impatient for his love; +Conduct her hither; let no rude intrusion +Molest these private walks, or care invade +These hours, assign'd to pleasure and Irene. + + +SCENE VI. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA. + + MAHOMET. +Now, Mustapha, pursue thy tale of horrour. +Has treason's dire infection reach'd my palace? +Can Cali dare the stroke of heav'nly justice, +In the dark precincts of the gaping grave, +And load with perjuries his parting soul? +Was it for this, that, sick'ning in Epirus, +My father call'd me to his couch of death, +Join'd Cali's hand to mine, and falt'ring cried, +Restrain the fervour of impetuous youth +With venerable Cali's faithful counsels? +Are these the counsels, this the faith of Cali? +Were all our favours lavish'd on a villain? +Confest?-- + + MUSTAPHA. + Confest by dying Menodorus. +In his last agonies, the gasping coward, +Amidst the tortures of the burning steel, +Still fond of life, groan'd out the dreadful secret, +Held forth this fatal scroll, then sunk to nothing. + + MAHOMET. _examining the paper_. +His correspondence with our foes of Greece! +His hand! his seal! The secrets of my soul, +Conceal'd from all but him! All, all conspire +To banish doubt, and brand him for a villain! +Our schemes for ever cross'd, our mines discover'd, +Betray'd some traitor lurking near my bosom. +Oft have I rag'd, when their wide-wasting cannon +Lay pointed at our batt'ries yet unform'd, +And broke the meditated lines of war. +Detested Cali, too, with artful wonder, +Would shake his wily head, and closely whisper, +Beware of Mustapha, beware of treason. + + MUSTAPHA. +The faith of Mustapha disdains suspicion; +But yet, great emperour, beware of treason; +Th' insidious bassa, fir'd by disappointment-- + + MAHOMET. +Shall feel the vengeance of an injur'd king. +Go, seize him, load him with reproachful chains; +Before th' assembled troops, proclaim his crimes; +Then leave him, stretch'd upon the ling'ring rack, +Amidst the camp to howl his life away. + + MUSTAPHA. +Should we, before the troops, proclaim his crimes, +I dread his arts of seeming innocence, +His bland address, and sorcery of tongue; +And, should he fall, unheard, by sudden justice, +Th' adoring soldiers would revenge their idol. + + MAHOMET. +Cali, this day, with hypocritick zeal, +Implor'd my leave to visit Mecca's temple; +Struck with the wonder of a statesman's goodness, +I rais'd his thoughts to more sublime devotion. +Now let him go, pursu'd by silent wrath, +Meet unexpected daggers in his way, +And, in some distant land, obscurely die. + + MUSTAPHA. +There will his boundless wealth, the spoil of Asia, +Heap'd by your father's ill-plac'd bounties on him, +Disperse rebellion through the eastern world; +Bribe to his cause, and list beneath his banners, +Arabia's roving troops, the sons of swiftness, +And arm the Persian heretick against thee; +There shall he waste thy frontiers, check thy conquests, +And, though at length subdued, elude thy vengeance. + + MAHOMET. +Elude my vengeance! No--My troops shall range +Th' eternal snows that freeze beyond Maeotis, +And Africk's torrid sands, in search of Cali. +Should the fierce north, upon his frozen wings, +Bear him aloft, above the wond'ring clouds, +And seat him in the pleiads' golden chariots, +Thence shall my fury drag him down to tortures; +Wherever guilt can fly, revenge can follow. + + MUSTAPHA. +Wilt thou dismiss the savage from the toils, +Only to hunt him round the ravag'd world? + + MAHOMET. +Suspend his sentence--Empire and Irene +Claim my divided soul. This wretch, unworthy +To mix with nobler cares, I'll throw aside +For idle hours, and crush him at my leisure. + + MUSTAPHA. +Let not th' unbounded greatness of his mind +Betray my king to negligence of danger. +Perhaps, the clouds of dark conspiracy +Now roll, full fraught with thunder, o'er your head. +Twice, since the morning rose, I saw the bassa, +Like a fell adder swelling in a brake, +Beneath the covert of this verdant arch, +In private conference; beside him stood +Two men unknown, the partners of his bosom; +I mark'd them well, and trac'd in either face +The gloomy resolution, horrid greatness, +And stern composure, of despairing heroes; +And, to confirm my thoughts, at sight of me, +As blasted by my presence, they withdrew, +With all the speed of terrour and of guilt. + + MAHOMET. +The strong emotions of my troubled soul +Allow no pause for art or for contrivance; +And dark perplexity distracts my counsels. +Do thou resolve: for, see, Irene comes! +At her approach each ruder gust of thought +Sinks, like the sighing of a tempest spent, +And gales of softer passion fan my bosom. +[Cali _enters with_ Irene, _and exit [Transcriber's note: sic] with_ +Mustapha. + + +SCENE VII. + +MAHOMET, IRENE. + + MAHOMET. +Wilt thou descend, fair daughter of perfection, +To hear my vows, and give mankind a queen? +Ah! cease, Irene, cease those flowing sorrows, +That melt a heart impregnable till now, +And turn thy thoughts, henceforth, to love and empire. +How will the matchless beauties of Irene, +Thus bright in tears, thus amiable in ruin, +With all the graceful pride of greatness heighten'd, +Amidst the blaze of jewels and of gold, +Adorn a throne, and dignify dominion! + + IRENE. +Why all this glare of splendid eloquence, +To paint the pageantries of guilty state? +Must I, for these, renounce the hope of heav'n, +Immortal crowns, and fulness of enjoyment? + + MAHOMET. +Vain raptures all--For your inferiour natures, +Form'd to delight, and happy by delighting, +Heav'n has reserv'd no future paradise, +But bids you rove the paths of bliss, secure +Of total death, and careless of hereafter; +While heaven's high minister, whose awful volume +Records each act, each thought of sov'reign man, +Surveys your plays with inattentive glance, +And leaves the lovely trifler unregarded. + + IRENE. +Why then has nature's vain munificence +Profusely pour'd her bounties upon woman? +Whence, then, those charms thy tongue has deign'd to flatter, +That air resistless, and enchanting blush, +Unless the beauteous fabrick was design'd +A habitation for a fairer soul? + + MAHOMET. +Too high, bright maid, thou rat'st exteriour grace: +Not always do the fairest flow'rs diffuse +The richest odours, nor the speckled shells +Conceal the gem; let female arrogance +Observe the feather'd wand'rers of the sky; +With purple varied, and bedrop'd with gold, +They prune the wing, and spread the glossy plumes, +Ordain'd, like you, to flutter and to shine, +And cheer the weary passenger with musick. + + IRENE. +Mean as we are, this tyrant of the world +Implores our smiles, and trembles at our feet. +Whence flow the hopes and fears, despair and rapture, +Whence all the bliss and agonies of love? + + MAHOMET. +Why, when the balm of sleep descends on man, +Do gay delusions, wand'ring o'er the brain, +Sooth the delighted soul with empty bliss? +To want, give affluence? and to slav'ry, freedom? +Such are love's joys, the lenitives of life, +A fancy'd treasure, and a waking dream. + + IRENE. +Then let me once, in honour of our sex, +Assume the boastful arrogance of man. +Th' attractive softness, and th' endearing smile, +And pow'rful glance, 'tis granted, are our own; +Nor has impartial nature's frugal hand +Exhausted all her nobler gifts on you. +Do not we share the comprehensive thought, +Th' enlivening wit, the penetrating reason? +Beats not the female breast with gen'rous passions, +The thirst of empire, and the love of glory? + + MAHOMET. +Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine; +Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face. +I thought (forgive, my fair,) the noblest aim, +The strongest effort of a female soul, +Was but to choose the graces of the day; +To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll, +Dispose the colours of the flowing robe, +And add new roses to the faded cheek. +Will it not charm a mind, like thine, exalted, +To shine, the goddess of applauding nations; +To scatter happiness and plenty round thee, +To bid the prostrate captive rise and live, +To see new cities tow'r, at thy command, +And blasted kingdoms flourish, at thy smile? + + IRENE. +Charm'd with the thought of blessing human kind, +Too calm I listen to the flatt'ring sounds. + + MAHOMET. +O! seize the power to bless--Irene's nod +Shall break the fetters of the groaning Christian; +Greece, in her lovely patroness secure, +Shall mourn no more her plunder'd palaces. + + IRENE. +Forbear--O! do not urge me to my ruin! + + MAHOMET. +To state and pow'r I court thee, not to ruin: +Smile on my wishes, and command the globe. +Security shall spread her shield before thee, +And love infold thee with his downy wings. + If greatness please thee, mount th' imperial seat; + If pleasure charm thee, view this soft retreat; + Here ev'ry warbler of the sky shall sing; + Here ev'ry fragrance breathe of ev'ry spring: + To deck these bow'rs each region shall combine, + And e'en our prophet's gardens envy thine: + Empire and love shall share the blissful day, + And varied life steal, unperceiv'd, away. + +[_Exeunt_. + + +ACT III.--SCENE I. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + +[CALI _enters, with a discontented air; to him enters_ ABDALLA.] + + CALI. +Is this the fierce conspirator, Abdalla? +Is this the restless diligence of treason? +Where hast thou linger'd, while th' incumber'd hours +Fly, lab'ring with the fate of future nations, +And hungry slaughter scents imperial blood? + + ABDALLA. +Important cares detain'd me from your counsels. + + CALI. +Some petty passion! some domestick trifle! +Some vain amusement of a vacant soul! +A weeping wife, perhaps, or dying friend, +Hung on your neck, and hinder'd your departure. +Is this a time for softness or for sorrow? +Unprofitable, peaceful, female virtues! +When eager vengeance shows a naked foe, +And kind ambition points the way to greatness. + + ABDALLA. +Must then ambition's votaries infringe +The laws of kindness, break the bonds of nature, +And quit the names of brother, friend, and father? + + CALI. +This sov'reign passion, scornful of restraint, +E'en from the birth, affects supreme command, +Swells in the breast, and, with resistless force, +O'erbears each gentler motion of the mind: +As, when a deluge overspreads the plains, +The wand'ring rivulet, and silver lake, +Mix undistinguish'd with the gen'ral roar. + + ABDALLA. +Yet can ambition, in Abdalla's breast, +Claim but the second place: there mighty love +Has fix'd his hopes, inquietudes, and fears, +His glowing wishes, and his jealous pangs. + + CALI. +Love is, indeed, the privilege of youth; +Yet, on a day like this, when expectation +Pants for the dread event--But let us reason-- + + ABDALLA. +Hast thou grown old, amidst the crowd of courts, +And turn'd th' instructive page of human life, +To cant, at last, of reason to a lover? +Such ill-tim'd gravity, such serious folly, +Might well befit the solitary student, +Th' unpractis'd dervis, or sequester'd faquir. +Know'st thou not yet, when love invades the soul, +That all her faculties receive his chains? +That reason gives her sceptre to his hand, +Or only struggles to be more enslav'd? +Aspasia, who can look upon thy beauties? +Who hear thee speak, and not abandon reason? +Reason! the hoary dotard's dull directress, +That loses all, because she hazards nothing! +Reason! the tim'rous pilot, that, to shun +The rocks of life, for ever flies the port! + + CALI. +But why this sudden warmth? + + ABDALLA. + Because I love: +Because my slighted passion burns in vain! +Why roars the lioness, distress'd by hunger? +Why foam the swelling waves, when tempests rise? +Why shakes the ground, when subterraneous fires +Fierce through the bursting caverns rend their way? + + CALI. +Not till this day, thou saw'st this fatal fair; +Did ever passion make so swift a progress? +Once more reflect; suppress this infant folly. + + ABDALLA. +Gross fires, enkindled by a mortal hand, +Spread, by degrees, and dread th' oppressing stream; +The subtler flames, emitted from the sky, +Flash out at once, with strength above resistance. + + CALI. +How did Aspasia welcome your address? +Did you proclaim this unexpected conquest? +Or pay, with speaking eyes, a lover's homage? + + ABDALLA. +Confounded, aw'd, and lost in admiration, +I gaz'd, I trembled; but I could not speak; +When e'en, as love was breaking off from wonder, +And tender accents quiver'd on my lips, +She mark'd my sparkling eyes, and heaving breast, +And smiling, conscious of her charms, withdrew. + +[_Enter_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius. + + CALI. +Now be, some moments, master of thyself; +Nor let Demetrius know thee for a rival. +Hence! or be calm--To disagree is ruin. + + +SCENE II. + +CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA. + + DEMETRIUS. +When will occasion smile upon our wishes, +And give the tortures of suspense a period? +Still must we linger in uncertain hope? +Still languish in our chains, and dream of freedom, +Like thirsty sailors gazing on the clouds, +Till burning death shoots through their wither'd limbs? + + CALI. +Deliverance is at hand; for Turkey's tyrant, +Sunk in his pleasures, confident and gay, +With all the hero's dull security, +Trusts to my care his mistress and his life, +And laughs, and wantons in the jaws of death. + + LEONTIUS. +So weak is man, when destin'd to destruction!-- +The watchful slumber, and the crafty trust. + + CALI. +At my command, yon iron gates unfold; +At my command, the sentinels retire; +With all the license of authority, +Through bowing slaves, I range the private rooms, +And of to-morrow's action fix the scene. + + DEMETRIUS. +To-morrow's action! Can that hoary wisdom, +Borne down with years, still dote upon to-morrow? +That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy, +The coward, and the fool, condemn'd to lose +An useless life, in waiting for to-morrow, +To gaze with longing eyes upon to-morrow, +Till interposing death destroys the prospect! +Strange! that this gen'ral fraud, from day to day, +Should fill the world with wretches undetected. +The soldier, lab'ring through a winter's march, +Still sees to-morrow drest in robes of triumph; +Still to the lover's long-expecting arms +To-morrow brings the visionary bride. +But thou, too old to bear another cheat, +Learn, that the present hour alone is man's. + + LEONTIUS. +The present hour, with open arms, invites; +Seize the kind fair, and press her to thy bosom. + + DEMETRIUS. +Who knows, ere this important morrow rise, +But fear or mutiny may taint the Greeks? +Who knows, if Mahomet's awaking anger +May spare the fatal bowstring till to-morrow? + + ABDALLA. +Had our first Asian foes but known this ardour, +We still had wander'd on Tartarian hills. +Rouse, Cali; shall the sons of conquer'd Greece +Lead us to danger, and abash their victors? +This night, with all her conscious stars, be witness, +Who merits most, Demetrius or Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Who merits most!--I knew not, we were rivals. + + CALI. +Young man, forbear--the heat of youth, no more-- +Well,--'tis decreed--This night shall fix our fate. +Soon as the veil of ev'ning clouds the sky, +With cautious secrecy, Leontius, steer +Th' appointed vessel to yon shaded bay, +Form'd by this garden jutting on the deep; +There, with your soldiers arm'd, and sails expanded, +Await our coming, equally prepar'd +For speedy flight, or obstinate defence. [Exit Leont. + + +SCENE III. + +CALI, ABDALLA, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +Now pause, great bassa, from the thoughts of blood, +And kindly grant an ear to gentler sounds. +If e'er thy youth has known the pangs of absence, +Or felt th' impatience of obstructed love, +Give me, before th' approaching hour of fate, +Once to behold the charms of bright Aspasia, +And draw new virtue from her heav'nly tongue. + + CALI. +Let prudence, ere the suit be farther urg'd, +Impartial weigh the pleasure with the danger. +A little longer, and she's thine for ever. + + DEMETRIUS. +Prudence and love conspire in this request, +Lest, unacquainted with our bold attempt, +Surprise o'erwhelm her, and retard our flight. + + CALI. +What I can grant, you cannot ask in vain-- + + DEMETRIUS. +I go to wait thy call; this kind consent +Completes the gift of freedom and of life. [_Exit_ Dem. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +And this is my reward--to burn, to languish, +To rave, unheeded; while the happy Greek, +The refuse of our swords, the dross of conquest, +Throws his fond arms about Aspasia's neck, +Dwells on her lips, and sighs upon her breast. +Is't not enough, he lives by our indulgence, +But he must live to make his masters wretched? + + CALI. +What claim hast thou to plead? + + ABDALLA. +The claim of pow'r, +Th' unquestion'd claim of conquerors and kings! + + CALI. +Yet, in the use of pow'r, remember justice. + + ABDALLA. +Can then th' assassin lift his treach'rous hand +Against his king, and cry, remember justice? +Justice demands the forfeit life of Cali; +Justice demands, that I reveal your crimes; +Justice demands--but see th' approaching sultan! +Oppose my wishes, and--remember justice. + + CALI. +Disorder sits upon thy face--retire. + +[_Exit_ Abdalla; enter Mahomet. + + +SCENE V. + +CALI, MAHOMET. + + CALI. +Long be the sultan bless'd with happy love! +My zeal marks gladness dawning on thy cheek, +With raptures, such as fire the pagan crowds, +When, pale and anxious for their years to come, +They see the sun surmount the dark eclipse, +And hail, unanimous, their conqu'ring god. + + MAHOMET. +My vows, 'tis true, she hears with less aversion; +She sighs, she blushes, but she still denies. + + CALI. +With warmer courtship press the yielding fair: +Call to your aid, with boundless promises, +Each rebel wish, each traitor inclination, +That raises tumults in the female breast, +The love of pow'r, of pleasure, and of show. + + MAHOMET. +These arts I try'd, and, to inflame her more, +By hateful business hurried from her sight, +I bade a hundred virgins wait around her, +Sooth her with all the pleasures of command, +Applaud her charms, and court her to be great. + +[_Exit_ Mahomet. + + +SCENE VI. + +CALI, _solus_. + +He's gone--Here rest, my soul, thy fainting wing; +Here recollect thy dissipated pow'rs.-- +Our distant int'rests, and our diff'rent passions. +Now haste to mingle in one common centre. +And fate lies crowded in a narrow space. +Yet, in that narrow space what dangers rise!-- +Far more I dread Abdalla's fiery folly, +Than all the wisdom of the grave divan. +Reason with reason fights on equal terms; +The raging madman's unconnected schemes +We cannot obviate, for we cannot guess. +Deep in my breast be treasur'd this resolve, +When Cali mounts the throne, Abdalla dies, +Too fierce, too faithless, for neglect or trust. + +[_Enter_ Irene _with attendants_. + + +SCENE VII. + +CALI, IRENE, ASPASIA, &c. + + CALI. +Amidst the splendour of encircling beauty, +Superiour majesty proclaims thee queen, +And nature justifies our monarch's choice. + + IRENE. +Reserve this homage for some other fair; +Urge me not on to glitt'ring guilt, nor pour +In my weak ear th' intoxicating sounds. + + CALI. +Make haste, bright maid, to rule the willing world; +Aw'd by the rigour of the sultan's justice, +We court thy gentleness. + + ASPASIA. + Can Cali's voice +Concur to press a hapless captive's ruin? + + CALI. +Long would my zeal for Mahomet and thee +Detain me here. But nations call upon me, +And duty bids me choose a distant walk, +Nor taint with care the privacies of love. + + +SCENE VIII. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, _attendants_. + + ASPASIA. +If yet this shining pomp, these sudden honours, +Swell not thy soul, beyond advice or friendship, +Nor yet inspire the follies of a queen, +Or tune thine ear to soothing adulation, +Suspend awhile the privilege of pow'r, +To hear the voice of truth; dismiss thy train, +Shake off th' incumbrances of state, a moment, +And lay the tow'ring sultaness aside, + +Irene _signs to her attendants to retire_. + +While I foretell thy fate: that office done,-- +No more I boast th' ambitious name of friend, +But sink among thy slaves, without a murmur. + + IRENE. +Did regal diadems invest my brow, +Yet should my soul, still faithful to her choice, +Esteem Aspasia's breast the noblest kingdom. + + ASPASIA. +The soul, once tainted with so foul a crime, +No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour: +Those holy beings, whose superiour care +Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue, +Affrighted at impiety, like thine, +Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin[a]. + +[a] In the original copy of this tragedy, given to Mr. Langton, the + above speech is as follows; and, in Mr. Boswell's judgment, is + finer than in the present editions: + + "Nor think to say, here will I stop; + Here will I fix the limits of transgression, + Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven. + When guilt, like this, once harbours in the breast, + Those holy beings, whose unseen direction + Guides, through the maze of life, the steps of man. + Fly the detested mansions of impiety, + And quit their charge to horrour and to ruin." + + See Boswell, i. for other compared extracts from the first sketch. + --ED. + + IRENE. +Upbraid me not with fancied wickedness; +I am not yet a queen, or an apostate. +But should I sin beyond the hope of mercy, +If, when religion prompts me to refuse, +The dread of instant death restrains my tongue? + + ASPASIA. +Reflect, that life and death, affecting sounds! +Are only varied modes of endless being; +Reflect, that life, like ev'ry other blessing, +Derives its value from its use alone; +Not for itself, but for a nobler end, +Th' Eternal gave it, and that end is virtue. +When inconsistent with a greater good, +Reason commands to cast the less away: +Thus life, with loss of wealth, is well preserv'd, +And virtue cheaply say'd, with loss of life. + + IRENE. +If built on settled thought, this constancy +Not idly flutters on a boastful tongue, +Why, when destruction rag'd around our walls, +Why fled this haughty heroine from the battle? +Why, then, did not this warlike amazon +Mix in the war, and shine among the heroes? + + ASPASIA. +Heav'n, when its hand pour'd softness on our limbs, +Unfit for toil, and polish'd into weakness, +Made passive fortitude the praise of woman: +Our only arms are innocence and meekness. +Not then with raving cries I fill'd the city; +But, while Demetrius, dear, lamented name! +Pour'd storms of fire upon our fierce invaders, +Implor'd th' eternal pow'r to shield my country, +With silent sorrows, and with calm devotion. + + IRENE. +O! did Irene shine the queen of Turkey, +No more should Greece lament those pray'rs rejected; +Again, should golden splendour grace her cities, +Again, her prostrate palaces should rise, +Again, her temples sound with holy musick: +No more should danger fright, or want distress +The smiling widows, and protected orphans. + + ASPASIA. +Be virtuous ends pursued by virtuous means, +Nor think th' intention sanctifies the deed: +That maxim, publish'd in an impious age, +Would loose the wild enthusiast to destroy, +And fix the fierce usurper's bloody title; +Then bigotry might send her slaves to war, +And bid success become the test of truth: +Unpitying massacre might waste the world, +And persecution boast the call of heaven. + + IRENE. +Shall I not wish to cheer afflicted kings, +And plan the happiness of mourning millions? + + ASPASIA. +Dream not of pow'r, thou never canst attain: +When social laws first harmoniz'd the world, +Superiour man possess'd the charge of rule, +The scale of justice, and the sword of power, +Nor left us aught, but flattery and state. + + IRENE. +To me my lover's fondness will restore +Whate'er man's pride has ravish'd from our sex. + + ASPASIA. +When soft security shall prompt the sultan, +Freed from the tumults of unsettled conquest, +To fix his court, and regulate his pleasures, +Soon shall the dire seraglio's horrid gates +Close, like th' eternal bars of death, upon thee. +Immur'd, and buried in perpetual sloth, +That gloomy slumber of the stagnant soul, +There shalt thou view, from far, the quiet cottage, +And sigh for cheerful poverty in vain; +There wear the tedious hours of life away, +Beneath each curse of unrelenting heav'n, +Despair and slav'ry, solitude and guilt. + + IRENE. +There shall we find the yet untasted bliss +Of grandeur and tranquillity combin'd. + + ASPASIA. +Tranquillity and guilt, disjoin'd by heaven, +Still stretch in vain their longing arms afar; +Nor dare to pass th' insuperable bound. +Ah! let me rather seek the convent's cell; +There, when my thoughts, at interval of prayer, +Descend to range these mansions of misfortune, +Oft shall I dwell on our disastrous friendship, +And shed the pitying tear for lost Irene. + + IRENE. +Go, languish on in dull obscurity; +Thy dazzled soul, with all its boasted greatness, +Shrinks at th' o'erpow'ring gleams of regal state, +Stoops from the blaze, like a degen'rate eagle, +And flies for shelter to the shades of life. + + ASPASIA. +On me should providence, without a crime, +The weighty charge of royalty confer; +Call me to civilize the Russian wilds, +Or bid soft science polish Britain's heroes; +Soon should'st thou see, how false thy weak reproach, +My bosom feels, enkindled from the sky, +The lambent flames of mild benevolence, +Untouch'd by fierce ambition's raging fires. + + IRENE. +Ambition is the stamp, impress'd by heav'n +To mark the noblest minds; with active heat +Inform'd, they mount the precipice of pow'r, +Grasp at command, and tow'r in quest of empire; +While vulgar souls compassionate their cares, +Gaze at their height, and tremble at their danger: +Thus meaner spirits, with amazement, mark +The varying seasons, and revolving skies, +And ask, what guilty pow'r's rebellious hand +Rolls with eternal toil the pond'rous orbs; +While some archangel, nearer to perfection, +In easy state, presides o'er all their motions, +Directs the planets, with a careless nod, +Conducts the sun, and regulates the spheres. + + ASPASIA. +Well may'st thou hide in labyrinths of sound +The cause that shrinks from reason's pow'rful voice. +Stoop from thy flight, trace back th' entangled thought, +And set the glitt'ring fallacy to view. +Not pow'r I blame, but pow'r obtain'd by crime; +Angelick greatness is angelick virtue. +Amidst the glare of courts, the shout of armies, +Will not th' apostate feel the pangs of guilt, +And wish, too late, for innocence and peace, +Curst, as the tyrant of th' infernal realms, +With gloomy state and agonizing pomp? + + +SCENE IX. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, MAID. + + MAID. +A Turkish stranger, of majestick mien, +Asks at the gate admission to Aspasia, +Commission'd, as he says, by Cali bassa. + + IRENE. +Whoe'er thou art, or whatsoe'er thy message, [Aside. +Thanks for this kind relief--With speed admit him. + + ASPASIA. +He comes, perhaps, to separate us for ever; +When I am gone, remember, O! remember, +That none are great, or happy, but the virtuous. + +[_Exit_ Irene; _enter_ Demetrius. + + +SCENE X. + +ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +'Tis she--my hope, my happiness, my love! +Aspasia! do I, once again, behold thee? +Still, still the same--unclouded by misfortune! +Let my blest eyes for ever gaze-- + + ASPASIA. + Demetrius! + + DEMETRIUS. +Why does the blood forsake thy lovely cheek? +Why shoots this chilness through thy shaking nerves? +Why does thy soul retire into herself? +Recline upon my breast thy sinking beauties: +Revive--Revive to freedom and to love. + + ASPASIA. +What well-known voice pronounc'd the grateful sounds, +Freedom and love? Alas! I'm all confusion; +A sudden mist o'ercasts my darken'd soul; +The present, past, and future swim before me, +Lost in a wild perplexity of joy. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such ecstasy of love, such pure affection, +What worth can merit? or what faith reward? + + ASPASIA. +A thousand thoughts, imperfect and distracted, +Demand a voice, and struggle into birth; +A thousand questions press upon my tongue, +But all give way to rapture and Demetrius. + + DEMETRIUS. +O say, bright being, in this age of absence, +What fears, what griefs, what dangers, hast thou known? +Say, how the tyrant threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd! +Say, how he threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd in vain! +Say, how the hand of violence was rais'd! +Say, how thou call'dst in tears upon Demetrius! + + ASPASIA. +Inform me rather, how thy happy courage +Stemm'd in the breach the deluge of destruction, +And pass'd, uninjur'd, through the walks of death. +Did savage anger and licentious conquest +Behold the hero with Aspasia's eyes? +And, thus protected in the gen'ral ruin, +O! say, what guardian pow'r convey'd thee hither. + + DEMETRIUS. +Such strange events, such unexpected chances, +Beyond my warmest hope, or wildest wishes, +Concurr'd to give me to Aspasia's arms, +I stand amaz'd, and ask, if yet I clasp thee. + + ASPASIA. +Sure heav'n, (for wonders are not wrought in vain!) +That joins us thus, will never part us more. + + +SCENE XI. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +It parts you now--The hasty sultan sign'd +The laws unread, and flies to his Irene. + + DEMETRIUS. +Fix'd and intent on his Irene's charms, +He envies none the converse of Aspasia. + + ABDALLA. +Aspasia's absence will inflame suspicion; +She cannot, must not, shall not, linger here; +Prudence and friendship bid me force her from you. + + DEMETRIUS. +Force her! profane her with a touch, and die! + + ABDALLA. +'Tis Greece, 'tis freedom, calls Aspasia hence; +Your careless love betrays your country's cause. + + DEMETRIUS. +If we must part-- + + ASPASIA. + No! let us die together. + + DEMETRIUS. +If we must part-- + + ABDALLA. + Despatch; th' increasing danger +Will not admit a lover's long farewell, +The long-drawn intercourse of sighs and kisses. + + DEMETRIUS. +Then--O! my fair, I cannot bid thee go. +Receive her, and protect her, gracious heav'n! +Yet let me watch her dear departing steps; +If fate pursues me, let it find me here. + Reproach not, Greece, a lover's fond delays, + Nor think thy cause neglected, while I gaze; + New force, new courage, from each glance I gain, + And find our passions not infus'd in vain. [_Exeunt_. + + +ACT IV.--SCENE I. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, _enter as talking_. + + ASPASIA. +Enough--resistless reason calms my soul-- +Approving justice smiles upon your cause, +And nature's rights entreat th' asserting sword. +Yet, when your hand is lifted to destroy, +Think, but excuse a woman's needless caution,-- +Purge well thy mind from ev'ry private passion, +Drive int'rest, love, and vengeance, from thy thoughts; +Fill all thy ardent breast with Greece and virtue; +Then strike secure, and heav'n assist the blow! + + DEMETRIUS. +Thou kind assistant of my better angel, +Propitious guide of my bewilder'd soul, +Calm of my cares, and guardian of my virtue! + + ASPASIA. +My soul, first kindled by thy bright example, +To noble thought and gen'rous emulation, +Now but reflects those beams that flow'd from thee. + + DEMETRIUS. +With native lustre and unborrow'd greatness, +Thou shin'st, bright maid, superiour to distress; +Unlike the trifling race of vulgar beauties, +Those glitt'ring dewdrops of a vernal morn, +That spread their colours to the genial beam, +And, sparkling, quiver to the breath of May; +But, when the tempest, with sonorous wing, +Sweeps o'er the grove, forsake the lab'ring bough, +Dispers'd in air, or mingled with the dust. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear this triumph--still new conflicts wait us, +Foes unforeseen, and dangers unsuspected. +Oft, when the fierce besiegers' eager host +Beholds the fainting garrison retire, +And rushes joyful to the naked wall, +Destruction flashes from th' insidious mine, +And sweeps th' exulting conqueror away. +Perhaps, in vain the sultan's anger spar'd me, +To find a meaner fate from treach'rous friendship-- +Abdalla!-- + + DEMETRIUS. + Can Abdalla then dissemble! +That fiery chief, renown'd for gen'rous freedom, +For zeal unguarded, undissembled hate, +For daring truth, and turbulence of honour! + + ASPASIA. +This open friend, this undesigning hero, +With noisy falsehoods, forc'd me from your arms, +To shock my virtue with a tale of love. + + DEMETRIUS. +Did not the cause of Greece restrain my sword, +Aspasia should not fear a second insult. + + ASPASIA. +His pride and love, by turns, inspir'd his tongue, +And intermix'd my praises with his own; +His wealth, his rank, his honours, he recounted, +Till, in the midst of arrogance and fondness, +Th' approaching sultan forc'd me from the palace; +Then, while he gaz'd upon his yielding mistress, +I stole, unheeded, from their ravish'd eyes, +And sought this happy grove in quest of thee. + + DEMETRIUS. +Soon may the final stroke decide our fate, +Lest baleful discord crush our infant scheme, +And strangled freedom perish in the birth! + + ASPASIA. +My bosom, harass'd with alternate passions, +Now hopes, now fears-- + + DEMETRIUS. + Th' anxieties of love. + + ASPASIA. +Think, how the sov'reign arbiter of kingdoms +Detests thy false associates' black designs, +And frowns on perjury, revenge, and murder. +Embark'd with treason on the seas of fate, +When heaven shall bid the swelling billows rage, +And point vindictive lightnings at rebellion, +Will not the patriot share the traitor's danger? +Oh! could thy hand, unaided, free thy country, +Nor mingled guilt pollute the sacred cause! + + DEMETRIUS. +Permitted oft, though not inspir'd, by heaven, +Successful treasons punish impious kings. + + ASPASIA. +Nor end my terrours with the sultan's death; +Far as futurity's untravell'd waste +Lies open to conjecture's dubious ken, +On ev'ry side confusion, rage, and death, +Perhaps, the phantoms of a woman's fear, +Beset the treach'rous way with fatal ambush; +Each Turkish bosom burns for thy destruction, +Ambitious Cali dreads the statesman's arts, +And hot Abdalla hates the happy lover. + + DEMETRIUS. +Capricious man! to good and ill inconstant, +Too much to fear or trust is equal weakness. +Sometimes the wretch, unaw'd by heav'n or hell, +With mad devotion idolizes honour. +The bassa, reeking with his master's murder, +Perhaps, may start at violated friendship. + + ASPASIA. +How soon, alas! will int'rest, fear, or envy, +O'erthrow such weak, such accidental virtue, +Nor built on faith, nor fortified by conscience! + + DEMETRIUS. +When desp'rate ills demand a speedy cure, +Distrust is cowardice, and prudence folly. + + ASPASIA. +Yet, think a moment, ere you court destruction, +What hand, when death has snatch'd away Demetrius, +Shall guard Aspasia from triumphant lust. + + DEMETRIUS. +Dismiss these needless fears--a troop of Greeks, +Well known, long try'd, expect us on the shore. +Borne on the surface of the smiling deep, +Soon shalt thou scorn, in safety's arms repos'd, +Abdalla's rage and Cali's stratagems. + + ASPASIA. +Still, still, distrust sits heavy on my heart. +Will e'er a happier hour revisit Greece? + + DEMETRIUS. +Should heav'n, yet unappeas'd, refuse its aid, +Disperse our hopes, and frustrate our designs, +Yet shall the conscience of the great attempt +Diffuse a brightness on our future days; +Nor will his country's groans reproach Demetrius. +But how canst thou support the woes of exile? +Canst thou forget hereditary splendours, +To live obscure upon a foreign coast, +Content with science, innocence, and love? + + ASPASIA. +Nor wealth, nor titles, make Aspasia's bliss. +O'erwhelm'd and lost amidst the publick ruins, +Unmov'd, I saw the glitt'ring trifles perish, +And thought the petty dross beneath a sigh. +Cheerful I follow to the rural cell; +Love be my wealth, and my distinction virtue. + + DEMETRIUS. +Submissive, and prepar'd for each event, +Now let us wait the last award of heav'n, +Secure of happiness from flight or conquest; +Nor fear the fair and learn'd can want protection. +The mighty Tuscan courts the banish'd arts +To kind Italia's hospitable shades; +There shall soft leisure wing th' excursive soul, +And peace, propitious, smile on fond desire; +There shall despotick eloquence resume +Her ancient empire o'er the yielding heart; +There poetry shall tune her sacred voice, +And wake from ignorance the western world. + + +SCENE II. + +DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, CALI. + + CALI. +At length th' unwilling sun resigns the world +To silence and to rest. The hours of darkness, +Propitious hours to stratagem and death, +Pursue the last remains of ling'ring light. + + DEMETRIUS. +Count not these hours, as parts of vulgar time; +Think them a sacred treasure lent by heaven, +Which, squander'd by neglect, or fear, or folly, +No prayer recalls, no diligence redeems. +To-morrow's dawn shall see the Turkish king +Stretch'd in the dust, or tow'ring on his throne; +To-morrow's dawn shall see the mighty Cali +The sport of tyranny, or lord of nations. + + CALI. +Then waste no longer these important moments +In soft endearments, and in gentle murmurs; +Nor lose, in love, the patriot and the hero. + + DEMETRIUS. +'Tis love, combin'd with guilt alone, that melts +The soften'd soul to cowardice and sloth; +But virtuous passion prompts the great resolve, +And fans the slumbering spark of heavenly fire. +Retire, my fair; that pow'r that smiles on goodness, +Guide all thy steps, calm ev'ry stormy thought, +And still thy bosom with the voice of peace! + + ASPASIA. +Soon may we meet again, secure and free, +To feel no more the pangs of separation! [_Exit_. + +DEMETRIUS, CALI. + + DEMETRIUS. +This night alone is ours--Our mighty foe, +No longer lost in am'rous solitude, +Will now remount the slighted seat of empire, +And show Irene to the shouting people: +Aspasia left her, sighing in his arms, +And list'ning to the pleasing tale of pow'r; +With soften'd voice she dropp'd the faint refusal, +Smiling consent she sat, and blushing love. + + CALI. +Now, tyrant, with satiety of beauty +Now feast thine eyes; thine eyes, that ne'er hereafter +Shall dart their am'rous glances at the fair, +Or glare on Cali with malignant beams. + + +SCENE III. + +DEMETRIUS, CALI, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA. + + LEONTIUS. +Our bark, unseen, has reach'd th' appointed bay, +And, where yon trees wave o'er the foaming surge, +Reclines against the shore: our Grecian troop +Extends its lines along the sandy beach, +Elate with hope, and panting for a foe. + + ABDALLA. +The fav'ring winds assist the great design, +Sport in our sails, and murmur o'er the deep. + + CALI. +'Tis well--A single blow completes our wishes; +Return with speed, Leontius, to your charge; +The Greeks, disorder'd by their leader's absence, +May droop dismay'd, or kindle into madness. + + + LEONTIUS. +Suspected still!--What villain's pois'nous tongue +Dares join Leontius' name with fear or falsehood? +Have I for this preserv'd my guiltless bosom, +Pure as the thoughts of infant innocence? +Have I for this defy'd the chiefs of Turkey, +Intrepid in the flaming front of war? + + CALI. +Hast thou not search'd my soul's profoundest thoughts? +Is not the fate of Greece and Cali thine? + + LEONTIUS. +Why has thy choice then pointed out Leontius, +Unfit to share this night's illustrious toils? +To wait, remote from action, and from honour, +An idle list'ner to the distant cries +Of slaughter'd infidels, and clash of swords? +Tell me the cause, that while thy name, Demetrius, +Shall soar, triumphant on the wings of glory, +Despis'd and curs'd, Leontius must descend +Through hissing ages, a proverbial coward, +The tale of women, and the scorn of fools? + + DEMETRIUS. +Can brave Leontius be the slave of glory? +Glory, the casual gift of thoughtless crowds! +Glory, the bribe of avaricious virtue! +Be but my country free, be thine the praise; +I ask no witness, but attesting conscience, +No records, but the records of the sky. + + LEONTIUS. +Wilt thou then head the troop upon the shore, +While I destroy th' oppressor of mankind? + + DEMETRIUS. +What canst thou boast superiour to Demetrius? +Ask, to whose sword the Greeks will trust their cause, +My name shall echo through the shouting field: +Demand, whose force yon Turkish heroes dread, +The shudd'ring camp shall murmur out Demetrius. + + CALI +Must Greece, still wretched by her children's folly, +For ever mourn their avarice or factions? +Demetrius justly pleads a double title; +The lover's int'rest aids the patriot's claim. + + LEONTIUS. +My pride shall ne'er protract my country's woes; +Succeed, my friend, unenvied by Leontius. + + DEMETRIUS. +I feel new spirit shoot along my nerves; +My soul expands to meet approaching freedom. +Now hover o'er us, with propitious wings, +Ye sacred shades of patriots and of martyrs! +All ye, whose blood tyrannick rage effus'd, +Or persecution drank, attend our call; +I And from the mansions of perpetual peace +Descend, to sweeten labours, once your own! + + CALI. +Go then, and with united eloquence +Confirm your troops; and, when the moon's fair beam +Plays on the quiv'ring waves, to guide our flight, +Return, Demetrius, and be free for ever. + [_Exeunt_ Dem. _and_ Leon. + + +SCENE IV. + +CALI, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +How the new monarch, swell'd with airy rule, +Looks down, contemptuous, from his fancy'd height, +And utters fate, unmindful of Abdalla! + + CALI. +Far be such black ingratitude from Cali! +When Asia's nations own me for their lord, +Wealth, and command, and grandeur shall be thine! + + ABDALLA. +Is this the recompense reserv'd for me? +Dar'st thou thus dally with Abdalla's passion? +Henceforward, hope no more my slighted friendship; +Wake from thy dream of power to death and tortures, +And bid thy visionary throne farewell. + + CALI. +Name, and enjoy thy wish-- + + ABDALLA. + I need not name it; +Aspasia's lovers know but one desire, +Nor hope, nor wish, nor live, but for Aspasia. + + CALI. +That fatal beauty, plighted to Demetrius, +Heaven makes not mine to give. + + ABDALLA. + Nor to deny. + + CALI. +Obtain her, and possess; thou know'st thy rival. + + ABDALLA. +Too well I know him, since, on Thracia's plains, +I felt the force of his tempestuous arm, +And saw my scatter'd squadrons fly before him. +Nor will I trust th' uncertain chance of combat; +The rights of princes let the sword decide, +The petty claims of empire and of honour: +Revenge and subtle jealousy shall teach +A surer passage to his hated heart. + + CALI. +Oh! spare the gallant Greek, in him we lose +The politician's arts, and hero's flame. + + ABDALLA. +When next we meet, before we storm the palace, +The bowl shall circle to confirm our league; +Then shall these juices taint Demetrius' draught, + [_Showing a phial_. +And stream, destructive, through his freezing veins: +Thus shall he live to strike th' important blow, +And perish, ere he taste the joys of conquest. + + +SCENE V. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, CALI, ABDALLA. + + MAHOMET. +Henceforth, for ever happy be this day, +Sacred to love, to pleasure, and Irene! +The matchless fair has bless'd me with compliance; +Let every tongue resound Irene's praise, +And spread the gen'ral transport through mankind. + + CALI. +Blest prince, for whom indulgent heav'n ordains, +At once, the joys of paradise and empire, +Now join thy people's and thy Cali's prayers; +Suspend thy passage to the seats of bliss, +Nor wish for houries in Irene's arms. + + MAHOMET. +Forbear--I know the long-try'd faith of Cali. + + CALI. +Oh! could the eyes of kings, like those of heav'n, +Search to the dark recesses of the soul, +Oft would they find ingratitude and treason, +By smiles, and oaths, and praises, ill disguis'd. +How rarely would they meet, in crowded courts, +Fidelity so firm, so pure, as mine. + + MUSTAPHA. +Yet, ere we give our loosen'd thoughts to rapture, +Let prudence obviate an impending danger: +Tainted by sloth, the parent of sedition, +The hungry janizary burns for plunder, +And growls, in private, o'er his idle sabre. + + MAHOMET. +To still their murmurs, ere the twentieth sun +Shall shed his beams upon the bridal bed, +I rouse to war, and conquer for Irene. +Then shall the Rhodian mourn his sinking tow'rs, +And Buda fall, and proud Vienna tremble; +Then shall Venetia feel the Turkish pow'r, +And subject seas roar round their queen in vain. + + ABDALLA. +Then seize fair Italy's delightful coast, +To fix your standard in imperial Rome. + + MAHOMET. +Her sons malicious clemency shall spare, +To form new legends, sanctify new crimes; +To canonize the slaves of superstition, +And fill the world with follies and impostures, +Till angry heav'n shall mark them out for ruin, +And war o'erwhelm them in their dream of vice. +O! could her fabled saints and boasted prayers +Call forth her ancient heroes to the field, +How should I joy, midst the fierce shock of nations, +To cross the tow'rings of an equal soul, +And bid the master-genius rule the world! +Abdalla, Cali, go--proclaim my purpose. + [_Exeunt_ Cali _and_ Abdalla. + + +SCENE VI. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA. + + MAHOMET. +Still Cali lives: and must he live to-morrow? +That fawning villain's forc'd congratulations +Will cloud my triumphs, and pollute the day. + + MUSTAPHA. +With cautious vigilance, at my command, +Two faithful captains, Hasan and Caraza, +Pursue him through his labyrinths of treason, +And wait your summons to report his conduct. + + MAHOMET. +Call them--but let them not prolong their tale, +Nor press, too much, upon a lover's patience. + [_Exit_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE VII. + +Mahomet, _Solus_. + +Whome'er the hope, still blasted, still renew'd, +Of happiness lures on from toil to toil, +Remember Mahomet, and cease thy labour. +Behold him here, in love, in war, successful; +Behold him, wretched in his double triumph! +His fav'rite faithless, and his mistress base. +Ambition only gave her to my arms, +By reason not convinc'd, nor won by love. +Ambition was her crime; but meaner folly +Dooms me to loathe, at once, and dote on falsehood, +And idolize th' apostate I contemn. +If thou art more than the gay dream of fancy, +More than a pleasing sound, without a meaning, +O happiness! sure thou art all Aspasia's. + + +SCENE VIII. + +MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, HASAN, CARAZA. + + MAHOMET. +Caraza, speak--have ye remark'd the bassa? + + CARAZA. +Close, as we might unseen, we watch'd his steps: +His hair disorder'd, and his gait unequal, +Betray'd the wild emotions of his mind. +Sudden he stops, and inward turns his eyes, +Absorb'd in thought; then, starting from his trance, +Constrains a sullen smile, and shoots away. +With him Abdalla we beheld-- + + MUSTAPHA. + Abdalla! + + MAHOMET. +He wears, of late, resentment on his brow, +Deny'd the government of Servia's province. + + CARAZA. +We mark'd him storming in excess of fury, +And heard, within the thicket that conceal'd us, +An undistinguish'd sound of threat'ning rage. + + MUSTAPHA. +How guilt, once harbour'd in the conscious breast, +Intimidates the brave, degrades the great; +See Cali, dread of kings, and pride of armies, +By treason levell'd with the dregs of men! +Ere guilty fear depress'd the hoary chief, +An angry murmur, a rebellious frown, +Had stretch'd the fiery boaster in the grave. + + MAHOMET. +Shall monarchs fear to draw the sword of justice, +Aw'd by the crowd, and by their slaves restrain'd? +Seize him this night, and, through the private passage, +Convey him to the prison's inmost depths, +Reserv'd to all the pangs of tedious death. + [_Exeunt_ Mahomet _and_ Mustapha. + + +SCENE IX. + +HASAN, CARAZA. + + HASAN. +Shall then the Greeks, unpunish'd and conceal'd, +Contrive, perhaps, the ruin of our empire; +League with our chiefs, and propagate sedition? + + CARAZA. +Whate'er their scheme, the bassa's death defeats it, +And gratitude's strong ties restrain my tongue. + + HASAN. +What ties to slaves? what gratitude to foes? + + CARAZA. +In that black day, when slaughter'd thousands fell +Around these fatal walls, the tide of war +Bore me victorious onward, where Demetrius +Tore, unresisted, from the giant hand +Of stern Sebalias, the triumphant crescent, +And dash'd the might of Asam from the ramparts. +There I became, nor blush to make it known, +The captive of his sword. The coward Greeks, +Enrag'd by wrongs, exulting with success, +Doom'd me to die with all the Turkish captains; +But brave Demetrius scorn'd the mean revenge, +And gave me life.-- + + HASAN. + Do thou repay the gift, +Lest unrewarded mercy lose its charms. +Profuse of wealth, or bounteous of success, +When heav'n bestows the privilege to bless, +Let no weak doubt the gen'rous hand restrain; +For when was pow'r beneficent in vain? [_Exeunt._ + + +ACT V.--SCENE I. + +ASPASIA, _sola_. + +In these dark moments of suspended fate, +While yet the future fortune of my country +Lies in the womb of providence conceal'd, +And anxious angels wait the mighty birth; +O! grant thy sacred influence, pow'rful virtue! +Attentive rise, survey the fair creation, +Till, conscious of th' encircling deity, +Beyond the mists of care thy pinion tow'rs. +This calm, these joys, dear innocence! are thine: +Joys ill exchang'd for gold, and pride, and empire. + + [_Enter_ Irene _and attendants_. + + +SCENE II. + +ASPASIA, IRENE _and attendants_. + + IRENE. +See how the moon, through all th' unclouded sky, +Spreads her mild radiance, and descending dews +Revive the languid flow'rs; thus nature shone +New from the maker's hand, and fair array'd +In the bright colours of primeval spring; +When purity, while fraud was yet unknown, +Play'd fearless in th' inviolated shades. +This elemental joy, this gen'ral calm, +Is, sure, the smile of unoffended heav'n. +Yet! why-- + + MAID. + Behold, within th' embow'ring grove +Aspasia stands-- + + IRENE. + With melancholy mien, +Pensive, and envious of Irene's greatness. +Steal, unperceiv'd, upon her meditations +But see, the lofty maid, at our approach, +Resumes th' imperious air of haughty virtue. +Are these th' unceasing joys, th' unmingled pleasures, + [_To_ Aspasia. +For which Aspasia scorn'd the Turkish crown? +Is this th' unshaken confidence in heav'n? +Is this the boasted bliss of conscious virtue? +When did content sigh out her cares in secret? +When did felicity repine in deserts? + + ASPASIA. +Ill suits with guilt the gaieties of triumph; +When daring vice insults eternal justice, +The ministers of wrath forget compassion, +And snatch the flaming bolt with hasty hand. + + IRENE. +Forbear thy threats, proud prophetess of ill, +Vers'd in the secret counsels of the sky. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear!--But thou art sunk beneath reproach; +In vain affected raptures flush the cheek, +And songs of pleasure warble from the tongue, +When fear and anguish labour in the breast, +And all within is darkness and confusion. +Thus, on deceitful Etna's flow'ry side, +Unfading verdure glads the roving eye; +While secret flames, with unextinguish'd rage, +Insatiate on her wasted entrails prey, +And melt her treach'rous beauties into ruin. + [_Enter_ Demetrius. + + +SCENE III. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS. + + DEMETRIUS. +Fly, fly, my love! destruction rushes on us, +The rack expects us, and the sword pursues. + + ASPASIA. +Is Greece deliver'd? is the tyrant fall'n? + + DEMETRIUS. +Greece is no more; the prosp'rous tyrant lives, +Reserv'd for other lands, the scourge of heav'n. + + ASPASIA. +Say, by what fraud, what force, were you defeated? +Betray'd by falsehood, or by crowds o'erborne? + + DEMETRIUS. +The pressing exigence forbids relation. +Abdalla-- + + ASPASIA. + Hated name! his jealous rage +Broke out in perfidy--Oh! curs'd Aspasia, +Born to complete the ruin of her country! +Hide me, oh hide me from upbraiding Greece; +Oh, hide me from myself! + + DEMETRIUS. + Be fruitless grief +The doom of guilt alone, nor dare to seize +The breast, where virtue guards the throne of peace. +Devolve, dear maid, thy sorrows on the wretch, +Whose fear, or rage, or treachery, betray'd us! + + IRENE. _aside_. +A private station may discover more; +Then let me rid them of Irene's presence; +Proceed, and give a loose to love and treason. + [_Withdraws_ + + ASPASIA. +Yet tell. + + DEMETRIUS. + To tell or hear were waste of life. + + ASPASIA. +The life, which only this design supported, +Were now well lost in hearing how you fail'd. + + DEMETRIUS. +Or meanly fraudulent or madly gay, +Abdalla, while we waited near the palace, +With ill tim'd mirth propos'd the bowl of love. +Just as it reach'd my lips, a sudden cry +Urg'd me to dash it to the ground, untouch'd, +And seize my sword with disencumber'd hand. + + ASPASIA. +What cry? The stratagem? Did then Abdalla-- + + DEMETRIUS. +At once a thousand passions fir'd his cheek! +Then all is past, he cry'd--and darted from us; +Nor, at the call of Cali, deign'd to turn. + + ASPASIA. +Why did you stay, deserted and betray'd? +What more could force attempt, or art contrive? + + DEMETRIUS. +Amazement seiz'd us, and the hoary bassa +Stood, torpid in suspense; but soon Abdalla +Return'd with force that made resistance vain, +And bade his new confed'rates seize the traitors. +Cali, disarm'd, was borne away to death; +Myself escap'd, or favour'd, or neglected. + + ASPASIA. +Oh Greece! renown'd for science and for wealth, +Behold thy boasted honours snatch'd away. + + DEMETRIUS. +Though disappointment blast our general scheme, +Yet much remains to hope. I shall not call +The day disastrous, that secures our flight; +Nor think that effort lost, which rescues thee. + [_Enter_ Abdalla. + + +SCENE IV. + +IRENE, ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS, ABDALLA. + + ABDALLA. +At length, the prize is mine--The haughty maid, +That bears the fate of empires in her air, +Henceforth shall live for me; for me alone +Shall plume her charms, and, with attentive watch, +Steal from Abdalla's eye the sign to smile. + + DEMETRIUS. +Cease this wild roar of savage exultation; +Advance, and perish in the frantick boast. + + ASPASIA. +Forbear, Demetrius, 'tis Aspasia calls thee; +Thy love, Aspasia, calls; restrain thy sword; +Nor rush on useless wounds, with idle courage. + + DEMETRIUS. +What now remains? + + ASPASIA. + It now remains to fly! + + DEMETRIUS. +Shall, then, the savage live, to boast his insult; +Tell, how Demetrius shunn'd his single hand, +And stole his life and mistress from his sabre? + + ABDALLA. +Infatuate loiterer, has fate, in vain, +Unclasp'd his iron gripe to set thee free? +Still dost thou flutter in the jaws of death; +Snar'd with thy fears, and maz'd in stupefaction? + + DEMETRIUS. +Forgive, my fair; 'tis life, 'tis nature calls: +Now, traitor, feel the fear that chills my hand. + + ASPASIA. +'Tis madness to provoke superfluous danger, +And cowardice to dread the boast of folly. + + ABDALLA. +Fly, wretch, while yet my pity grants thee flight; +The pow'r of Turkey waits upon my call. +Leave but this maid, resign a hopeless claim, +And drag away thy life, in scorn and safety, +Thy life, too mean a prey to lure Abdalla. + + DEMETRIUS. +Once more I dare thy sword; behold the prize, +Behold, I quit her to the chance of battle. + [_Quitting_ Aspasia. + + ABDALLA. +Well may'st thou call thy master to the combat, +And try the hazard, that hast nought to stake; +Alike my death or thine is gain to thee; +But soon thou shalt repent: another moment +Shall throw th' attending janizaries round thee. + [_Exit, hastily_, Abdalla. + + +SCENE V. + +ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS. + + IRENE. +Abdalla fails; now, fortune, all is mine. [_Aside_. +Haste, Murza, to the palace, let the sultan + [_To one of her attendant_ +Despatch his guards to stop the flying traitors, +While I protract their stay. Be swift and faithful. + [_Exit_ Murza. +This lucky stratagem shall charm the sultan, [_Aside_. +Secure his confidence, and fix his love. + + DEMETRIUS. +Behold a boaster's worth! Now snatch, my fair, +The happy moment; hasten to the shore, +Ere he return with thousands at his side. + + ASPASIA. +In vain I listen to th' inviting call +Of freedom and of love; my trembling joints, +Relax'd with fear, refuse to bear me forward. +Depart, Demetrius, lest my fate involve thee; +Forsake a wretch abandon'd to despair, +To share the miseries herself has caus'd. + + DEMETRIUS. +Let us not struggle with th' eternal will, +Nor languish o'er irreparable ruins; +Come, haste and live--Thy innocence and truth +Shall bless our wand'rings, and propitiate heav'n. + + IRENE. +Press not her flight, while yet her feeble nerves +Refuse their office, and uncertain life +Still labours with imaginary woe; +Here let me tend her with officious care, +Watch each unquiet flutter of the breast, +And joy to feel the vital warmth return, +To see the cloud forsake her kindling cheek, +And hail the rosy dawn of rising health. + + ASPASIA. +Oh! rather, scornful of flagitious greatness, +Resolve to share our dangers and our toils, +Companion of our flight, illustrious exile, +Leave slav'ry, guilt, and infamy behind. + + IRENE. +My soul attends thy voice, and banish'd virtue +Strives to regain her empire of the mind: +Assist her efforts with thy strong persuasion; +Sure, 'tis the happy hour ordain'd above, +When vanquish'd vice shall tyrannise no more. + + DEMETRIUS. +Remember, peace and anguish are before thee, +And honour and reproach, and heav'n and hell. + + ASPASIA. +Content with freedom, and precarious greatness. + + DEMETRIUS. +Now make thy choice, while yet the pow'r of choice +Kind heav'n affords thee, and inviting mercy +Holds out her hand to lead thee back to truth. + + IRENE. +Stay--in this dubious twilight of conviction, +The gleams of reason, and the clouds of passion, +Irradiate and obscure my breast, by turns: +Stay but a moment, and prevailing truth +Will spread resistless light upon my soul. + + DEMETRIUS. +But, since none knows the danger of a moment, +And heav'n forbids to lavish life away, +Let kind compulsion terminate the contest. + [_Seizing her hand_. +Ye christian captives, follow me to freedom: +A galley waits us, and the winds invite. + + IRENE. +Whence is this violence? + + DEMETRIUS. + Your calmer thought +Will teach a gentler term. + + IRENE. + Forbear this rudeness, +And learn the rev'rence due to Turkey's queen: +Fly, slaves, and call the sultan to my rescue. + + DEMETRIUS. +Farewell, unhappy maid; may every joy +Be thine, that wealth can give, or guilt receive! + + ASPASIA. +nd when, contemptuous of imperial pow'r, +Disease shall chase the phantoms of ambition, +May penitence attend thy mournful bed, +And wing thy latest pray'r to pitying heav'n! + [_Exeunt_ Dem. Asp. _with part of the attendants_. + + +SCENE VI. + +[IRENE _walks at a distance from her attendants._] + +_After a pause_. +Against the head, which innocence secures, +Insidious malice aims her darts in vain, +Turn'd backwards by the pow'rful breath of heav'n. +Perhaps, e'en now the lovers, unpursu'd, +Bound o'er the sparkling waves. Go, happy bark, +Thy sacred freight shall still the raging main. +To guide thy passage shall th' aerial spirits +Fill all the starry lamps with double blaze; +Th' applauding sky shall pour forth all its beams, +To grace the triumph of victorious virtue; +While I, not yet familiar to my crimes, +Recoil from thought, and shudder at myself. +How am I chang'd! How lately did Irene +Fly from the busy pleasures of her sex, +Well pleas'd to search the treasures of remembrance, +And live her guiltless moments o'er anew! +Come, let us seek new pleasures in the palace, + [_To her attendants, going off_. +Till soft fatigue invite us to repose. + + +SCENE VII. + +[_Enter_ MUSTAPHA, _meeting and stopping her_.] + + MUSTAPHA. +Fair falsehood, stay. + + IRENE. + What dream of sudden power +Has taught my slave the language of command? +Henceforth, be wise, nor hope a second pardon. + + MUSTAPHA. +Who calls for pardon from a wretch condemn'd? + + IRENE. +Thy look, thy speech, thy action, all is wildness-- +Who charges guilt, on me? + + MUSTAPHA. + Who charges guilt! +Ask of thy heart; attend the voice of conscience-- +Who charges guilt! lay by this proud resentment +That fires thy cheek, and elevates thy mien, +Nor thus usurp the dignity of virtue. +Review this day. + + IRENE. + Whate'er thy accusation, +The sultan is my judge. + + MUSTAPHA. + That hope is past; +Hard was the strife of justice and of love; +But now 'tis o'er, and justice has prevail'd. +Know'st thou not Cali? know'st thou not Demetrius? + + IRENE. +Bold slave, I know them both--I know them traitors. + + MUSTAPHA. +Perfidious!--yes--too well thou know'st them traitors. + + IRENE. +Their treason throws no stain upon Irene. +This day has prov'd my fondness for the sultan; +He knew Irene's truth. + + MUSTAPHA. + The sultan knows it; +He knows, how near apostasy to treason-- +But 'tis not mine to judge--I scorn and leave thee. +I go, lest vengeance urge my hand to blood, +To blood too mean to stain a soldier's sabre. + [_Exit_ Mustapha. + +IRENE, _to her attendants_. +Go, blust'ring slave--He has not heard of Murza. +That dext'rous message frees me from suspicion. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_Enter_ HASAN, CARAZA, _with mutes, who throw the black +robe upon_ IRENE, _and sign to her attendants to withdraw_. + + HASAN. +Forgive, fair excellence, th' unwilling tongue, +The tongue, that, forc'd by strong necessity, +Bids beauty, such as thine, prepare to die. + + IRENE. +What wild mistake is this! Take hence, with speed, +Your robe of mourning, and your dogs of death. +Quick from my sight, you inauspicious monsters; +Nor dare, henceforth, to shock Irene's walks. + + HASAN. +Alas! they come commanded by the sultan, +Th' unpitying ministers of Turkish justice, +Nor dare to spare the life his frown condemns. + + IRENE. +Are these the rapid thunderbolts of war, +That pour with sudden violence on kingdoms, +And spread their flames, resistless, o'er the world? +What sleepy charms benumb these active heroes, +Depress their spirits, and retard their speed? +Beyond the fear of ling'ring punishment, +Aspasia now, within her lover's arms, +Securely sleeps, and, in delightful dreams, +Smiles at the threat'nings of defeated rage. + + CARAZA. +We come, bright virgin, though relenting nature +Shrinks at the hated task, for thy destruction. +When summon'd by the sultan's clam'rous fury, +We ask'd, with tim'rous tongue, th' offender's name, +He struck his tortur'd breast, and roar'd, Irene! +We started at the sound, again inquir'd; +Again his thund'ring voice return'd, Irene! + + IRENE. +Whence is this rage; what barb'rous tongue has wrong'd me? +What fraud misleads him? or what crimes incense? + +HASAN. +Expiring Cali nam'd Irene's chamber, +The place appointed for his master's death. + + IRENE. +Irene's chamber! From my faithful bosom +Far be the thought--But hear my protestation. + + CARAZA. +'Tis ours, alas! to punish, not to judge, +Not call'd to try the cause, we heard the sentence, +Ordain'd the mournful messengers of death. + + IRENE. +Some ill designing statesman's base intrigue! +Some cruel stratagem of jealous beauty! +Perhaps, yourselves the villains that defame me:-- +Now haste to murder, ere returning thought +Recall th' extorted doom.--It must be so: +Confess your crime, or lead me to the sultan; +There dauntless truth shall blast the vile accuser; +Then shall you feel, what language cannot utter, +Each piercing torture, ev'ry change of pain, +That vengeance can invent, or pow'r inflict. + [_Enter_ Abdalla: _he stops short and listens_. + + +SCENE IX. + +IRENE, HASAN, CARAZA, ABDALLA. + +ABDALLA, _aside_. +All is not lost, Abdalla; see the queen, +See the last witness of thy guilt and fear, +Enrob'd in death--Despatch her, and be great. + + CARAZA. +Unhappy fair! compassion calls upon me +To check this torrent of imperious rage: +While unavailing anger crowds thy tongue +With idle threats and fruitless exclamation, +The fraudful moments ply their silent wings, +And steal thy life away. Death's horrid angel +Already shakes his bloody sabre o'er thee. +The raging sultan burns, till our return, +Curses the dull delays of ling'ring mercy, +And thinks his fatal mandates ill obey'd. + + ABDALLA. +Is then your sov'reign's life so cheaply rated, +That thus you parley with detected treason? +Should she prevail to gain the sultan's presence, +Soon might her tears engage a lover's credit; +Perhaps, her malice might transfer the charge; +Perhaps, her pois'nous tongue might blast Abdalla. + + IRENE. +O! let me but be heard, nor fear from me +Or flights of pow'r, or projects of ambition. +My hopes, my wishes, terminate in life, +A little life, for grief, and for repentance. + + ABDALLA. +I mark'd her wily messenger afar, +And saw him sculking in the closest walks: +I guess'd her dark designs, and warn'd the sultan, +And bring her former sentence new-confirmed. + + HASAN. +Then call it not our cruelty, nor crime; +Deem us not deaf to woe, nor blind to beauty, +That, thus constrain'd, we speed the stroke of death. + [_Beckons the mutes_. + + IRENE. +O, name not death! Distraction and amazement, +Horrour and agony are in that sound! +Let me but live, heap woes on woes upon me; +Hide me with murd'rers in the dungeon's gloom; +Send me to wander on some pathless shore, +Let shame and hooting infamy pursue me, +Let slav'ry harass, and let hunger gripe. + + CARAZA. +Could we reverse the sentence of the sultan, +Our bleeding bosoms plead Irene's cause. +But cries and tears are vain; prepare, with patience, +To meet that fate, we can delay no longer. + [_The mutes, at the sign, lay hold of her_. + + ABDALLA. +Despatch, ye ling'ring slaves; or nimbler hands, +Quick at my call, shall execute your charge; +Despatch, and learn a fitter time for pity. + + IRENE. +Grant me one hour. O! grant me but a moment, +And bounteous heav'n repay the mighty mercy, +With peaceful death, and happiness eternal. + +CARAZA. +The pray'r I cannot grant--I dare not hear. +Short be thy pains. [_Signs again to the mutes_. + + IRENE. + Unutterable anguish! +Guilt and despair, pale spectres! grin around me, +And stun me with the yellings of damnation! +O, hear my pray'rs! accept, all-pitying heav'n, +These tears, these pangs, these last remains of life; +Nor let the crimes of this detested day +Be charg'd upon my soul. O, mercy! mercy! + [_Mutes force her out_. + + +SCENE X. + +ABDALLA, HASAN, CARAZA. + +ABDALLA, _aside_. +Safe in her death, and in Demetrius' flight, +Abdalla, bid thy troubled breast be calm. +Now shalt thou shine, the darling of the sultan, +The plot all Cali's, the detection thine. + + HASAN _to_ CARAZA. +Does not thy bosom (for I know thee tender, +A stranger to th' oppressor's savage joy,) +Melt at Irene's fate, and share her woes? + + CARAZA. +Her piercing cries yet fill the loaded air, +Dwell on my ear, and sadden all my soul. +But let us try to clear our clouded brows, +And tell the horrid tale with cheerful face; +The stormy sultan rages at our stay. + + ABDALLA. +Frame your report with circumspective art: +Inflame her crimes, exalt your own obedience; +But let no thoughtless hint involve Abdalla. + + CARAZA. +What need of caution to report the fate +Of her, the sultan's voice condemn'd to die? +Or why should he, whose violence of duty +Has serv'd his prince so well, demand our silence? + + ABDALLA. +Perhaps, my zeal, too fierce, betray'd my prudence; +Perhaps, my warmth exceeded my commission; +Perhaps--I will not stoop to plead my cause, +Or argue with the slave that sav'd Demetrius. + + CARAZA. +From his escape learn thou the pow'r of virtue; +Nor hope his fortune, while thou want'st his worth. + + HASAN. +The sultan comes, still gloomy, still enraged. + + +SCENE XI. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, ABDALLA. + + MAHOMET. +Where's this fair traitress? Where's this smiling mischief, +Whom neither vows could fix, nor favours bind? + + HASAN. +Thine orders, mighty sultan, are perform'd, +And all Irene now is breathless clay. + + MAHOMET. +Your hasty zeal defrauds the claim of justice, +And disappointed vengeance burns in vain. +I came to heighten tortures by reproach, +And add new terrours to the face of death. +Was this the maid, whose love I bought with empire? +True, she was fair; the smile of innocence +Play'd on her cheek--So shone the first apostate-- +Irene's chamber! Did not roaring Cali, +Just as the rack forc'd out his struggling soul, +Name for the scene of death, Irene's chamber? + + MUSTAPHA. +His breath prolong'd, but to detect her treason, +Then, in short sighs, forsook his broken frame. + + MAHOMET. +Decreed to perish in Irene's chamber! +There had she lull'd me with endearing falsehoods, +Clasp'd in her arms, or slumb'ring on her breast, +And bar'd my bosom to the ruffian's dagger. + + +SCENE XII. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, MURZA, ABDALLA. + + MURZA. +Forgive, great sultan, that, by fate prevented, +I bring a tardy message from Irene. + + MAHOMET. +Some artful wile of counterfeited love! +Some soft decoy to lure me to destruction! +And thou, the curs'd accomplice of her treason, +Declare thy message, and expect thy doom. + + MURZA. +The queen requested, that a chosen troop +Might intercept the traitor Greek, Demetrius, +Then ling'ring with his captive mistress here. + + MUSTAPHA. +The Greek, Demetrius! whom th' expiring bassa +Declar'd the chief associate of his guilt! + + MAHOMET. +A chosen troop--to intercept--Demetrius-- +The queen requested--Wretch, repeat the message; +And, if one varied accent prove thy falsehood, +Or but one moment's pause betray confusion, +Those trembling limbs--Speak out, thou shiv'ring traitor. + + MURZA. +The queen requested-- + + MAHOMET. Who? the dead Irene? +Was she then guiltless! Has my thoughtless rage +Destroy'd the fairest workmanship of heav'n! +Doom'd her to death, unpity'd and unheard, +Amidst her kind solicitudes for me! +Ye slaves of cruelty, ye tools of rage, + [_To_ Hasan _and_ Caraza. +Ye blind, officious ministers of folly, +Could not her charms repress your zeal for murder? +Could not her pray'rs, her innocence, her tears, +Suspend the dreadful sentence for an hour? +One hour had freed me from the fatal errour! +One hour had say'd me from despair and madness. + + CARAZA. +Your fierce impatience forc'd us from your presence, +Urg'd us to speed, and bade us banish pity, +Nor trust our passions with her fatal charms. + + MAHOMET. +What hadst thou lost, by slighting those commands? +Thy life, perhaps--Were but Irene spar'd, +Well, if a thousand lives like thine had perish'd; +Such beauty, sweetness, love, were cheaply bought +With half the grov'ling slaves that load the globe. + + MUSTAPHA. +Great is thy woe! But think, illustrious sultan, +Such ills are sent for souls, like thine, to conquer. +Shake off this weight of unavailing grief, +Rush to the war, display thy dreadful banners, +And lead thy troops, victorious, round the world. + + MAHOMET. +Robb'd of the maid, with whom I wish'd to triumph, +No more I burn for fame, or for dominion; +Success and conquest now are empty sounds, +Remorse and anguish seize on all my breast; +Those groves, whose shades embower'd the dear Irene, +Heard her last cries, and fann'd her dying beauties, +Shall hide me from the tasteless world for ever. + [Mahomet _goes back, and returns_. +Yet, ere I quit the sceptre of dominion, +Let one just act conclude the hateful day-- +Hew down, ye guards, those vassals of destruction, + [_Pointing to_ Hasan _and_ Caraza. +Those hounds of blood, that catch the hint to kill, +Bear off, with eager haste, th' unfinished sentence, +And speed the stroke, lest mercy should o'ertake them. + + CARAZA. +Then hear, great Mahomet, the voice of truth. + + MAHOMET. +Hear! shall I hear thee! didst thou hear Irene? + +CARAZA. +Hear but a moment. + + MAHOMET. + Hadst thou heard a moment, +Thou might'st have liv'd, for thou hadst spar'd Irene. + + CARAZA. +I heard her, pitied her, and wish'd to save her. + + MAHOMET. +And wish'd--be still thy fate to wish in vain. + + CARAZA. +I heard, and soften'd, till Abdalla brought +Her final doom, and hurried her destruction. + + MAHOMET. +Abdalla brought her doom! Abdalla brought it! +The wretch, whose guilt, declar'd by tortur'd Cali, +My rage and grief had hid from my remembrance: +Abdalla brought her doom! + + HASAN. + Abdalla brought it, +While yet she begg'd to plead her cause before thee. + + MAHOMET. +O, seize me, madness--Did she call on me! +I feel, I see the ruffian's barb'rous rage. +He seiz'd her melting in the fond appeal, +And stopp'd the heav'nly voice that call'd on me. +My spirits fail; awhile support me, vengeance-- +Be just, ye slaves; and, to be just, be cruel; +Contrive new racks, imbitter ev'ry pang, +Inflict whatever treason can deserve, +Which murder'd innocence that call'd on me. + [_Exit_ Mahomet; Abdalla _is dragged off_. + + +SCENE XIII. + +HASAN, CARAZA, MUSTAPHA, MURZA. + +MUSTAPHA _to_ MURZA. +What plagues, what tortures, are in store for thee, +Thou sluggish idler, dilatory slave! +Behold the model of consummate beauty, +Torn from the mourning earth by thy neglect. + + MURZA. +Such was the will of heav'n--A band of Greeks, +That mark'd my course, suspicious of my purpose, +Rush'd out and seiz'd me, thoughtless and unarm'd, +Breathless, amaz'd, and on the guarded beach +Detain'd me, till Demetrius set me free. + + MUSTAPHA. +So sure the fall of greatness, rais'd on crimes! +So fix'd the justice of all conscious heav'n! +When haughty guilt exults with impious joy, +Mistake shall blast, or accident destroy; +Weak man, with erring rage, may throw the dart, +But heav'n shall guide it to the guilty heart. + +EPILOGUE. + +BY SIR WILLIAM YONGE. + +Marry a Turk! a haughty, tyrant king! +Who thinks us women born to dress and sing +To please his fancy! see no other man! +Let him persuade me to it--if he can; +Besides, he has fifty wives; and who can bear +To have the fiftieth part, her paltry share? + +'Tis true, the fellow's handsome, straight, and tall, +But how the devil should he please us all! +My swain is little--true--but, be it known, +My pride's to have that little all my own. +Men will be ever to their errours blind, +Where woman's not allow'd to speak her mind. +I swear this eastern pageantry is nonsense, +And for one man--one wife's enough in conscience. + +In vain proud man usurps what's woman's due; +For us, alone, they honour's paths pursue: +Inspir'd by us, they glory's heights ascend; +Woman the source, the object, and the end. +Though wealth, and pow'r, and glory, they receive, +These are all trifles to what we can give. +For us the statesman labours, hero fights, +Bears toilsome days, and wakes long tedious nights; +And, when blest peace has silenc'd war's alarms; +Receives his full reward in beauty's arms. + + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. + + +PROLOGUE; +SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, APRIL 5, 1750, BEFORE +THE MASQUE OF COMUS. + +Acted at Drury lane theatre, for the benefit of Milton's +granddaughter[a]. + +Ye patriot crowds, who burn for England's fame, +Ye nymphs, whose bosoms beat at Milton's name; +Whose gen'rous zeal, unbought by flatt'ring rhymes, +Shames the mean pensions of Augustan times; +Immortal patrons of succeeding days, +Attend this prelude of perpetual praise; +Let wit, condemn'd the feeble war to wage +With close malevolence, or publick rage; +Let study, worn with virtue's fruitless lore, +Behold this theatre, and grieve no more. +This night, distinguish'd by your smiles, shall tell, +That never Britain can in vain excel; +The slighted arts futurity shall trust, +And rising ages hasten to be just. + At length, our mighty bard's victorious lays +Fill the loud voice of universal praise; +And baffled spite, with hopeless anguish dumb, +Yields to renown the centuries to come; +With ardent haste each candidate of fame, +Ambitious, catches at his tow'ring name; +He sees, and pitying sees, vain wealth bestow +Those pageant honours, which he scorn'd below; +While crowds aloft the laureate bust behold, +Or trace his form on circulating gold. +Unknown, unheeded, long his offspring lay, +And want hung threat'ning o'er her slow decay, +What, though she shine with no Miltonian fire, +No fav'ring muse her morning dreams inspire; +Yet softer claims the melting heart engage, +Her youth laborious, and her blameless age; +Her's the mild merits of domestick life, +The patient sufferer, and the faithful wife. +Thus, grac'd with humble virtue's native charms, +Her grandsire leaves her in Britannia's arms; +Secure with peace, with competence, to dwell, +While tutelary nations guard her cell. +Yours is the charge, ye fair, ye wise, ye brave! +'Tis yours to crown desert--beyond the grave. + +[a] See Life of Milton. + + +PROLOGUE +TO THE COMEDY OF THE GOOD-NATUR'D MAN, 1769, + +Prest by the load of life, the weary mind +Surveys the gen'ral toil of human kind; +With cool submission joins the lab'ring train, +And social sorrow loses half its pain: +Our anxious bard, without complaint, may share +This bustling season's epidemick care; +Like Caesar's pilot, dignify'd by fate, +Tost in one common storm with all the great; +Distrest alike the statesman and the wit, +When one a borough courts, and one the pit. +The busy candidates for pow'r and fame +Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same; +Disabled both to combat or to fly, +Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply. +Uncheck'd on both loud rabbles vent their rage, +As mongrels bay the lion in a cage. +Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale, +For that blest year, when all that vote may rail; +Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss, +Till that glad night, when all that hate may hiss. +"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat," +Says swelling Crispin, "begg'd a cobbler's vote." +"This night our wit," the pert apprentice cries, +"Lies at my feet; I hiss him, and he dies." +The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe; +The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe. +Yet, judg'd by those whose voices ne'er were sold, +He feels no want of ill persuading gold; +But, confident of praise, if praise be due, +Trusts, without fear, to merit and to you. + + +PROLOGUE +TO THE COMEDY OF A WORK TO THE WISE[a] +SPOKEN BY MR. HULL. + +This night presents a play, which publick rage, +Or right, or wrong, once hooted from the stage[b]. +From zeal or malice, now, no more we dread, +For English vengeance wars not with the dead. +A gen'rous foe regards, with pitying eye, +The man whom fate has laid, where all must lie. +To wit, reviving from its author's dust, +Be kind, ye judges, or at least be just. +For no renew'd hostilities invade +Th' oblivious grave's inviolable shade. +Let one great payment ev'ry claim appease; +And him, who cannot hurt, allow to please; +To please by scenes, unconscious of offence, +By harmless merriment, or useful sense. +Where aught of bright, or fair, the piece displays, +Approve it only--'tis too late to praise. +If want of skill, or want of care appear, +Forbear to hiss--the poet cannot hear. +By all, like him, must praise and blame be found, +At best a fleeting gleam, or empty sound. +Yet, then, shall calm reflection bless the night, +When lib'ral pity dignify'd delight; +When pleasure fir'd her torch at virtue's flame, +And mirth was bounty with an humbler name. + +[a] Performed at Covent garden theatre in 1777, for the benefit of Mrs. + Kelly, widow of Hugh Kelly, esq. (the author of the play,) and her + children. + +[b] Upon the first representation of this play, 1770, a party assembled + to damn it, and succeeded. + + +SPRING; +AN ODE. + +Stern winter now, by spring repress'd, + Forbears the long-continued strife; +And nature, on her naked breast, + Delights to catch the gales of life. +Now o'er the rural kingdom roves + Soft pleasure with the laughing train, +Love warbles in the vocal groves, + And vegetation plants the plain. +Unhappy! whom to beds of pain, + Arthritick[a] tyranny consigns; +Whom smiling nature courts in vain, + Though rapture sings, and beauty shines. +Yet though my limbs disease invades, + Her wings imagination tries, +And bears me to the peaceful shades, + Where--s humble turrets rise; +Here stop, my soul, thy rapid flight, + Nor from the pleasing groves depart, +Where first great nature charm'd my sight, + Where wisdom first inform'd my heart. +Here let me through the vales pursue + A guide--a father--and a friend, +Once more great nature's works renew, + Once more on wisdom's voice attend. +From false caresses, causeless strife, + Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd, +Here let me learn the use of life, + When best enjoy'd--when most improv'd. +Teach me, thou venerable bower, + Cool meditation's quiet seat, +The gen'rous scorn of venal power, + The silent grandeur of retreat. +When pride, by guilt, to greatness climbs, + Or raging factions rush to war, +Here let me learn to shun the crimes, +I can't prevent, and will not share. + But, lest I fall by subtler foes, +Bright wisdom, teach me Curio's art, + The swelling passions to compose, +And quell the rebels of the heart. + +[a] The author being ill of the gout. + + +MIDSUMMER; +AN ODE. + +O Phoebus! down the western sky, + Far hence diffuse thy burning ray, +Thy light to distant worlds supply, + And wake them to the cares of day. +Come, gentle eve, the friend of care, + Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night! +Refresh me with a cooling air, + And cheer me with a lambent light: +Lay me, where o'er the verdant ground + Her living carpet nature spreads; +Where the green bow'r, with roses crown'd, + In show'rs its fragrant foliage sheds; +Improve the peaceful hour with wine; + Let musick die along the grove; +Around the bowl let myrtles twine, + And ev'ry strain be tun'd to love. +Come, Stella, queen of all my heart! + Come, born to fill its vast desires! +Thy looks perpetual joys impart, + Thy voice perpetual love inspires. +Whilst, all my wish and thine complete, + By turns we languish and we burn, +Let sighing gales our sighs repeat, + Our murmurs--murmuring brooks return, +Let me, when nature calls to rest, + And blushing skies the morn foretell, +Sink on the down of Stella's breast, + And bid the waking world farewell. + + +AUTUMN; +AN ODE. + +Alas! with swift and silent pace, + Impatient time rolls on the year; +The seasons change, and nature's face + Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe, +'Twas spring, 'twas summer, all was gay, + Now autumn bends a cloudy brow; +The flow'rs of spring are swept away, + And summer-fruits desert the bough. +The verdant leaves, that play'd on high, + And wanton'd on the western breeze, +Now, trod in dust, neglected lie, + As Boreas strips the bending trees. +The fields, that way'd with golden grain, + As russet heaths, are wild and bare; +Not moist with dew, but drench'd with rain, + Nor health, nor pleasure, wanders there. +No more, while through the midnight shade, + Beneath the moon's pale orb I stray, +Soft pleasing woes my heart invade, + As Progne pours the melting lay. +From this capricious clime she soars, + Oh! would some god but wings supply! +To where each morn the spring restores, + Companion of her flight I'd fly. +Vain wish! me fate compels to bear + The downward season's iron reign; +Compels to breathe polluted air, + And shiver on a blasted plain. +What bliss to life can autumn yield, + If glooms, and show'rs, and storms prevail, +And Ceres flies the naked field, + And flowers, and fruits, and Phoebus fail? +Oh! what remains, what lingers yet, + To cheer me in the dark'ning hour! +The grape remains! the friend of wit, + In love, and mirth, of mighty pow'r. +Haste--press the clusters, fill the bowl; + Apollo! shoot thy parting ray: +This gives the sunshine of the soul, + This god of health, and verse, and day. +Still--still the jocund strain shall flow, + The pulse with vig'rous rapture beat; +My Stella with new charms shall glow, + And ev'ry bliss in wine shall meet. + + +WINTER; +AN ODE. + +No more tire morn, with tepid rays, + Unfolds the flow'r of various hue; +Noon spreads no more the genial blaze, + Nor gentle eve distils the dew. +The ling'ring hours prolong the night, + Usurping darkness shares the day; +Her mists restrain the force of light, + And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway. +By gloomy twilight, half reveal'd, + With sighs we view the hoary hill, +The leafless wood, the naked field, + The snow-topp'd cot, the frozen rill. +No musick warbles through the grove, + No vivid colours paint the plain; +No more, with devious steps, I rove + Through verdant paths, now sought in vain. +Aloud the driving tempest roars, + Congeal'd, impetuous show'rs descend; +Haste, close the window, bar the doors, + Fate leaves me Stella, and a friend. +In nature's aid, let art supply + With light and heat my little sphere; +Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high, + Light up a constellation here. +Let musick sound the voice of joy, + Or mirth repeat the jocund tale; +Let love his wanton wiles employ, + And o'er the season wine prevail. +Yet time life's dreary winter brings, + When mirth's gay tale shall please no more +Nor musick charm--though Stella sings; + Nor love, nor wine, the spring restore. +Catch, then, Oh! catch the transient hour, + Improve each moment as it flies; +Life's a short summer--man a flow'r: + He dies--alas! how soon he dies! + + +THE WINTER'S WALK. + +Behold, my fair, where'er we rove, + What dreary prospects round us rise; +The naked hill, the leafless grove, + The hoary ground, the frowning skies! +Nor only through the wasted plain, + Stern winter! is thy force confess'd; +Still wider spreads thy horrid reign, + I feel thy pow'r usurp my breast. +Enliv'ning hope, and fond desire, + Resign the heart to spleen and care; +Scarce frighted love maintains her fire, + And rapture saddens to despair. +In groundless hope, and causeless fear, + Unhappy man! behold thy doom; +Still changing with the changeful year, + The slave of sunshine and of gloom. +Tir'd with vain joys, and false alarms, + With mental and corporeal strife, +Snatch me, my Stella, to thy arms, + And screen me from the ills of life[a]. + +[a] And _hide_ me from the _sight_ of life. 1st edition. + + +TO MISS **** +ON HER GIVING THE AUTHOR A GOLD AND SILK NETWORK PURSE OF HER OWN +WEAVING[a]. + +Though gold and silk their charms unite +To make thy curious web delight, +In vain the varied work would shine, +If wrought by any hand but thine; +Thy hand, that knows the subtler art +To weave those nets that catch the heart. + +Spread out by me, the roving coin +Thy nets may catch, but not confine; +Nor can I hope thy silken chain +The glitt'ring vagrants shall restrain. +Why, Stella, was it then decreed, +The heart, once caught, should ne'er be freed? + +[a] Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +TO MISS **** +ON HER PLAYING UPON THE HARPSICHORD, IN A ROOM HUNG WITH FLOWER-PIECES +OF HER OWN PAINTING[a]. + +When Stella strikes the tuneful string, +In scenes of imitated spring, +Where beauty lavishes her pow'rs +On beds of never-fading flow'rs, +And pleasure propagates around +Each charm of modulated sound; +Ah! think not, in the dang'rous hour, +The nymph fictitious as the flow'r; +But shun, rash youth, the gay alcove, +Nor tempt the snares of wily love. +When charms thus press on ev'ry sense, +What thought of flight, or of defence? +Deceitful hope, and vain desire, +For ever flutter o'er her lyre, +Delighting, as the youth draws nigh, +To point the glances of her eye, +And forming, with unerring art, +New chains to hold the captive heart. +But on those regions of delight +Might truth intrude with daring flight, +Could Stella, sprightly, fair, and young, +One moment hear the moral song, +Instruction, with her flowers, might spring, +And wisdom warble from her string. +Mark, when from thousand mingled dies +Thou seest one pleasing form arise, +How active light, and thoughtful shade +In greater scenes each other aid; +Mark, when the different notes agree +In friendly contrariety, +How passion's well-accorded strife +Gives all the harmony of life; +Thy pictures shall thy conduct frame, +Consistent still, though not the same; +Thy musick teach the nobler art, +To tune the regulated heart. + +[a] Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +EVENING; AN ODE. +TO STELLA. + +Ev'ning now from purple wings +Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; +Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, +Cooling breezes shake the reed; +Shake the reed, and curl the stream, +Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; +Near the checquer'd, lonely grove, +Hears, and keeps thy secrets, love. +Stella, thither let us stray, +Lightly o'er the dewy way. +Phoebus drives his burning car +Hence, my lovely Stella, far; +In his stead, the queen of night +Round us pours a lambent light; +Light, that seems but just to show +Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow. +Let us now, in whisper'd joy, +Ev'ning's silent hours employ; +Silence best, and conscious shades, +Please the hearts that love invades; +Other pleasures give them pain, +Lovers all but love disdain. + + +TO THE SAME. + +Whether Stella's eyes are found +Fix'd on earth, or glancing round, +If her face with pleasure glow, +If she sigh at others' woe, +If her easy air express +Conscious worth, or soft distress, +Stella's eyes, and air, and face, +Charm with undiminish'd grace. + If on her we see display'd +Pendent gems, and rich brocade; +If her chints with less expense +Flows in easy negligence; +Still she lights the conscious flame, +Still her charms appear the same; +If she strikes the vocal strings, +If she's silent, speaks, or sings, +If she sit, or if she move, +Still we love, and still approve. + Vain the casual, transient glance, +Which alone can please by chance; +Beauty, which depends on art, +Changing with the changing heart, +Which demands the toilet's aid, +Pendent gems and rich brocade. +I those charms alone can prize, +Which from constant nature rise, +Which nor circumstance, nor dress, +E'er can make, or more, or less. + + +TO A FRIEND. + +No more thus brooding o'er yon heap, +With av'rice, painful vigils keep; +Still unenjoy'd the present store, +Still endless sighs are breath'd for more. +Oh! quit the shadow, catch the prize, +Which not all India's treasure buys! + To purchase heav'n has gold the power? +Can gold remove the mortal hour? +In life, can love be bought with gold? +Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? +No--all that's worth a wish--a thought, +Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. +Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, +Let nobler views engage thy mind. + With science tread the wondrous way, +Or learn the muses' moral lay; +In social hours indulge thy soul, +Where mirth and temp'rance mix the bowl; +To virtuous love resign thy breast, +And be, by blessing beauty--blest. + Thus taste the feast, by nature spread, +Ere youth, and all its joys are fled; +Come, taste with me the balm of life, +Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. +I boast whate'er for man was meant, +In health, and Stella, and content; +And scorn! oh! let that scorn be thine! +Mere things of clay that dig the mine. + + +STELLA IN MOURNING. + +When lately Stella's form display'd +The beauties of the gay brocade, +The nymphs, who found their pow'r decline, +Proclaim'd her not so fair as fine. +"Fate! snatch away the bright disguise, +And let the goddess trust her eyes." +Thus blindly pray'd the fretful fair, +And fate malicious heard the pray'r; +But, brighten'd by the sable dress, +As virtue rises in distress, +Since Stella still extends her reign, +Ah! how shall envy sooth her pain? + Th' adoring youth and envious fair, +Henceforth, shall form one common prayer: +And love and hate, alike, implore +The skies--"That Stella mourn no more." + + +TO STELLA. + +Not the soft sighs of vernal gales, +The fragrance of the flow'ry vales, +The murmurs of the crystal rill, +The vocal grove, the verdant hill; +Not all their charms, though all unite, +Can touch my bosom with delight. + +Not all the gems on India's shore, +Not all Peru's unbounded store, +Not all the power, nor all the fame, +That heroes, kings, or poets claim; +Nor knowledge, which the learn'd approve; +To form one wish my soul can move. + +Yet nature's charms allure my eyes, +And knowledge, wealth, and fame I prize; +Fame, wealth, and knowledge I obtain, +Nor seek I nature's charms in vain; +In lovely Stella all combine; +And, lovely Stella! thou art mine. + + +VERSES, +WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN, TO WHOM A LADY HAD GIVEN A SPRIG +OF MYRTLE [a]. + +What hopes, what terrours, does thy gift create! +Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate! +The myrtle (ensign of supreme command, +Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand) +Not less capricious than a reigning fair, +Oft favours, oft rejects, a lover's pray'r. +In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain, +In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain. +The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads, +Th' unhappy lovers' graves the myrtle spreads. +Oh! then, the meaning of thy gift impart, +And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart. +Soon must this bough, as you shall fix its doom, +Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb. + +[a] These verses were first printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for + 1768, p. 439, but were written many years earlier. Elegant as they + are, Dr. Johnson assured me, they were composed in the short space + of five minutes.--N. + + +TO LADY FIREBRACE[a]. +AT BURY ASSIZES. + +At length, must Suffolk beauties shine in vain, +So long renown'd in B--n's deathless strain? +Thy charms, at least, fair Firebrace, might inspire +Some zealous bard to wake the sleeping lyre; +For, such thy beauteous mind and lovely face, +Thou seem'st at once, bright nymph, a muse and grace. + +[a] This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, esq. of + Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, esq. of that town. She became + the second wife of sir Cordell Firebrace, the last baronet of that + name, to whom she brought a fortune of 25,000 pounds, July 26, 1737. + Being again left a widow, in 1759, she was a third time married, + April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, esq. uncle to the late duke of + Argyle, and died July 3, 1782. + + +TO LYCE, +AN ELDERLY LADY. + +Ye nymphs, whom starry rays invest, +By flatt'ring poets given; +Who shine, by lavish lovers drest, +In all the pomp of heaven; + +Engross not all the beams on high, + Which gild a lover's lays; +But, as your sister of the sky, + Let Lyce share the praise. + +Her silver locks display the moon, + Her brows a cloudy show, +Strip'd rainbows round her eyes are seen, + And show'rs from either flow. + +Her teeth the night with darkness dies, + She's starr'd with pimples o'er; +Her tongue, like nimble lightning, plies, + And can with thunder roar. + +But some Zelinda, while I sing, + Denies my Lyce shines; +And all the pens of Cupid's wing + Attack my gentle lines. + +Yet, spite of fair Zelinda's eye, + And all her bards express, +My Lyce makes as good a sky, + And I but flatter less. + + +ON THE DEATH OF +MR. ROBERT LEVET[a], +A PRACTISER IN PHYSICK. + +Condemn'd to hope's delusive mine, + As on we toil, from day to day, +By sudden blasts, or slow decline, + Our social comforts drop away. + +Well try'd, through many a varying year, + See Levet to the grave descend, +Officious, innocent, sincere, + Of ev'ry friendless name the friend. + +Yet still he fills affection's eye, + Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind; +Nor, letter'd arrogance, deny + Thy praise to merit unrefined. + +When fainting nature call'd for aid, + And hov'ring death prepar'd the blow, +His vig'rous remedy display'd + The pow'r of art, without the show. + +In mis'ry's darkest cavern known, + His useful care was ever nigh, +Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, + And lonely want retir'd to die. + +No summons, mock'd by chill delay, + No petty gain, disdain'd by pride; +The modest wants of ev'ry day + The toil of ev'ry day supply'd. + +His virtues walk'd their narrow round, + Nor made a pause, nor left a void; +And sure the eternal master found + The single talent well-employ'd. + +The busy day--the peaceful night, + Unfelt, uncounted, glided by; +His frame was firm--his pow'rs were bright, + Though now his eightieth year was nigh. + +Then, with no fiery throbbing pain, + No cold gradations of decay, +Death broke, at once, the vital chain, + And freed his soul the nearest way. + +[a] These stanzas, to adopt the words of Dr. Drake, "are warm from the + heart; and this is the only poem, from the pen of Johnson, that has + been bathed with tears." Levet was Johnson's constant and attentive + companion, for near forty years; he was a practitioner in physic, + among the lower class of people, in London. Humanity, rather than + desire of gain, seems to have actuated this single hearted and + amiable being; and never were the virtues of charity recorded in + more touching strains. "I am acquainted," says Dr. Drake, "with + nothing superior to them in the productions of the moral muse." See + Drake's Literary Life of Johnson; and Boswell, i. ii. iii. iv.--ED. + + +EPITAPH ON CLAUDE PHILLIPS, +AN ITINERANT MUSICIAN[a]. + +Phillips! whose touch harmonious could remove +The pangs of guilty pow'r, and hapless love, +Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more, +Find here that calm thou gay'st so oft before; +Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine, +Till angels wake thee, with a note like thine. + +[a] These lines are among Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies: they are, + nevertheless, recognised as Johnson's, in a memorandum of his + handwriting, and were probably written at her request. This Phillips + was a fiddler, who travelled up and down Wales, and was much + celebrated for his skill. The above epitaph, according to Mr. + Boswell, won the applause of lord Kames, prejudiced against Johnson + as he was. It was published in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, and + was, at first, ascribed to Garrick, from its appearing with the + signature G.--Garrick, however, related, that they were composed, + almost impromptu, by Johnson, on hearing some lines on the subject, + by Dr. Wilkes, which he disapproved. See Boswell, i. 126, where is, + likewise, preserved an epigram, by Johnson, on Colley Cibber and + George the second, whose illiberal treatment of artists and learned + men was a constant theme of his execration. As it has not yet been + inserted among Johnson's works, we will present it to the readers of + the present edition, in this note. + + +EPITAPHIUM[a] +IN +THOMAM HANMER, BARONETTUM. + +Honorabilis admodum THOMAS HANMER, +Baronnettus, + +Augustus still survives in Maro's strain, +And Spenser's verse prolongs Eliza's reign; +Great George's acts let tuneful Gibber sing; +For nature formed the poet for the king. + +Wilhelmi Hanmer armigeri, e Peregrina Henrici +North +De Mildenhall, in Com. Suffolciae, baronetti sorore +et haerede, +Filius; +Johannis Hanmer de Hanmer baronetti +Haeres patruelis +Antiquo gentis suae et titulo et patrimonio successit. +Duas uxores sortitus est; +Alteram Isabellam, honore a patre derivato, de +Arlington comitissam, +Deinde celsissimi principis, ducis de Grafton, viduam +dotariam: +Alteram Elizabetham, Thomae Foulkes de Barton, in +Com. Suff. armigeri +Filiam et haeredem. +Inter humanitatis studia feliciter enutritus, +Omnes liberalium artium disciplinas avide arripuit, +Quas morum suavitate baud leviter ornavit, +Postquam excessit ex ephebis, +Continuo inter populares suos fama eminens, +Et comitatus sui legatus ad parliamentum missus, +Ad ardua regni negotia, per annos prope triginta, +se accinxit: +Cumque, apud illos amplissimorum virorum ordines, +Solent nihil temere effutire, +Sed probe perpensa diserte expromere, +Orator gravis et pressus, +Non minus integritatis quam eloquentiae laude +commendatus, +Aeque omnium, utcunque inter se alioqui dissidentium, +Aures atque arrimos attraxit. +Annoque demum M.DCC.XIII. regnante Anna, +Felicissimae florentissimaeque memoriae regina, +Ad prolocutoris cathedram, +Communi senatus universi voce, designatus est: +Quod munus, +Cum nullo tempore non difficile, +Tum illo certe, negotiis +Et variis, et lubricis, et implicatis, difficillimum, +Cum dignitate sustinuit. +Honores alios, et omnia quae sibi in lucrum cederent +munera, +Sedulo detrectavit, +Ut rei totus inserviret publicae; +Justi rectique tenax, +Et fide in patriam incorrupta notus. +Ubi omnibus, quae virum civemque bonum decent, +officiis satisfecisset, +Paulatim se a publicis consiliis in otium recipiens, +Inter literarum amoenitates, +Inter ante-actae vitae baud insuaves recordationes, +Inter amicorum convictus et amplexus, +Honorifice consenuit; +Et bonis omnibus, quibus charissimus vixit, +Desideratissimus obiit. +Hie, juxta cineres avi, suos condi voluit, et curavit +Gulielmus Bunbury B'ttus, nepos et haeres. + + +PARAPHRASE OF THE ABOVE EPITAPH. +BY DR. JOHNSON (b). + +Thou, who survey'st these walls with curious eye, +Pause at the tomb, where Hanmer's ashes lie; +His various worth, through vary'd life, attend, +And learn his virtues, while thou mourn'st his end. + His force of genius burn'd, in early youth, +With thirst of knowledge, and with love of truth; +His learning, join'd with each endearing art, +Charm'd ev'ry ear, and gain'd on ev'ry heart. + Thus early wise, th' endanger'd realm to aid, +His country call'd him from the studious shade; +In life's first bloom his publick toils began, +At once commenc'd the senator and man. +In bus'ness dext'rous, weighty in debate, +Thrice ten long years he labour'd for the state; +In ev'ry speech persuasive wisdom flow'd, +In ev'ry act refulgent virtue glow'd: +Suspended faction ceas'd from rage and strife, +To hear his eloquence, and praise his life. +Resistless merit fix'd the senate's choice, +Who hail'd him speaker, with united voice. +Illustrious age! how bright thy glories shone, +When Hanmer fill'd the chair--and Anne the throne! +Then, when dark arts obscur'd each fierce debate, +When mutual frauds perplex'd the maze of state, +The moderator firmly mild appear'd-- +Beheld with love--with veneration heard. +This task perform'd--he sought no gainful post, +Nor wish'd to glitter, at his country's cost: +Strict on the right he fix'd his steadfast eye, +With temp'rate zeal and wise anxiety; +Nor e'er from virtue's paths was lur'd aside, +To pluck the flow'rs of pleasure, or of pride. +Her gifts despis'd, corruption blush'd, and fled, +And fame pursu'd him, where conviction led. +Age call'd, at length, his active mind to rest, +With honour sated, and with cares oppress'd; +To letter'd ease retir'd, and honest mirth, +To rural grandeur and domestick worth; +Delighted still to please mankind, or mend, +The patriot's fire yet sparkled in the friend. +Calm conscience, then, his former life survey'd, +And recollected toils endear'd the shade, +Till nature call'd him to the gen'ral doom, +And virtue's sorrow dignified his tomb. + +[a] At Hanmer church, in Flintshire. +[b] This paraphrase is inserted in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. The + Latin is there said to be written by Dr. Freind. Of the person whose + memory it celebrates, a copious account may be seen in the appendix + to the supplement to the Biographia Britannica. + + +TO MISS HICKMAN[a], +PLAYING ON THE SPINET. + +Bright Stella, form'd for universal reign, +Too well you know to keep the slaves you gain; +When in your eyes resistless lightnings play, +Aw'd into love our conquer'd hearts obey, +And yield reluctant to despotick sway: +But, when your musick sooths the raging pain, +We bid propitious heav'n prolong your reign, +We bless the tyrant, and we hug the chain. +When old Timotheus struck the vocal string, +Ambition's fury fir'd the Grecian king: +Unbounded projects lab'ring in his mind, +He pants for room, in one poor world confin'd. +Thus wak'd to rage, by musick's dreadful pow'r, +He bids the sword destroy, the flame devour. +Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre, +Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire; +No more delighted with destructive war, +Ambitious only now to please the fair, +Resign'd his thirst of empire to her charms, +And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms. + +[a] These lines, which have been communicated by Dr. Turton, son to Mrs. + Turton, the lady to whom they are addressed by her maiden name of + Hickman, must have been written, at least, as early as 1734, as that + was the year of her marriage: at how much earlier a period of Dr. + Johnson's life they might have been written, is not known. + + +PARAPHRASE OF PROVERBS, CHAP. VI. +VERSES 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. + +_"Go to the ant, thou sluggard[a]_." + +Turn on the prudent ant thy heedful eyes, +Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise: +No stern command, no monitory voice, +Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice; +Yet, timely provident, she hastes away, +To snatch the blessings of the plenteous day; +When fruitful summer loads the teeming plain, +She crops the harvest, and she stores the grain. +How long shall sloth usurp thy useless hours, +Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy pow'rs; +While artful shades thy downy couch inclose, +And soft solicitation courts repose? +Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight, +Year chases year with unremitted flight, +Till want now following, fraudulent and slow, +Shall spring to seize thee like an ambush'd foe. + +[a] First printed in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. + + +HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII. TRANSLATED. + + The snow, dissolv'd, no more is seen, +The fields and woods, behold! are green; +The changing year renews the plain, +The rivers know their banks again; +The sprightly nymph and naked grace +The mazy dance together trace; +The changing year's successive plan +Proclaims mortality to man; +Rough winter's blasts to spring give way, +Spring yields to summer's sov'reign ray; +Then summer sinks in autumn's reign, +And winter chills the world again; +Her losses soon the moon supplies, +But wretched man, when once he lies +Where Priam and his sons are laid, +Is nought but ashes and a shade. +Who knows if Jove, who counts our score, +Will toss us in a morning more? +What with your friend you nobly share, +At least you rescue from your heir. +Not you, Torquatus, boast of Rome, +When Minos once has fixed your doom, +Or eloquence, or splendid birth, +Or virtue, shall restore to earth. +Hippolytus, unjustly slain, +Diana calls to life in vain; +Nor can the might of Theseus rend +The chains of hell that hold his friend. +Nov. 1784. + + + +The following translations, parodies, and burlesque verses, most of them +extempore, are taken from Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, published by Mrs. +Piozzi. + + +ANACREON, ODE IX. + +Lovely courier of the sky, +Whence and whither dost thou fly? +Scatt'ring, as thy pinions play, +Liquid fragrance all the way: +Is it business? is it love? +Tell me, tell me, gentle dove. +Soft Anacreon's vows I bear, +Vows to Myrtale the fair; +Grac'd with all that charms the heart, +Blushing nature, smiling art. +Venus, courted by an ode, +On the bard her dove bestow'd: +Vested with a master's right, +Now Anacreon rules my flight; +His the letters that you see, +Weighty charge, consign'd to me: +Think not yet my service hard, +Joyless task without reward; +Smiling at my master's gates, +Freedom my return awaits; +But the lib'ral grant in vain +Tempts me to be wild again. +Can a prudent dove decline +Blissful bondage such as mine? +Over hills and fields to roam, +Fortune's guest without a home; +Under leaves to hide one's head +Slightly shelter'd, coarsely fed: +Now my better lot bestows +Sweet repast and soft repose; +Now the gen'rous bowl I sip, +As it leaves Anacreon's lip: +Void of care, and free from dread, +From his fingers snatch his bread; +Then, with luscious plenty gay, +Round his chamber dance and play; +Or from wine, as courage springs, +O'er his face extend my wings; +And when feast and frolick tire, +Drop asleep upon his lyre. +This is all, be quick and go, +More than all thou canst not know; +Let me now my pinions ply, +I have chatter'd like a pie. + + +LINES +WRITTEN IN RIDICULE OF CERTAIN POEMS +PUBLISHED IN 1777. + +Wheresor'er I turn my view, +All is strange, yet nothing new; +Endless labour all along, +Endless labour to be wrong; +Phrase that time hath flung away, +Uncouth words in disarray, +Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet, +Ode, and elegy, and sonnet. + + +PARODY OF A TRANSLATION. +FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES. + +Err shall they not, who resolute explore +Times gloomy backward with judicious eyes; +And, scanning right the practices of yore, +Shall deem our hoar progenitors unwise. + +They to the dome, where smoke, with curling play, +Announc'd the dinner to the regions round, +Summon'd the singer blithe, and harper gay, +And aided wine with dulcet-streaming sound. + +The better use of notes, or sweet or shrill, +By quiv'ring string or modulated wind; +Trumpet or lyre--to their harsh bosoms chill +Admission ne'er had sought, or could not find. + +Oh! send them to the sullen mansions dun, +Her baleful eyes where sorrow rolls around; +Where gloom-enamour'd mischief loves to dwell, +And murder, all blood-bolter'd, schemes the wound. + +When cates luxuriant pile the spacious dish, +And purple nectar glads the festive hour; +The guest, without a want, without a wish, +Can yield no room to musick's soothing pow'r. + + +TRANSLATION +FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES, V. 196[a] + +The rites deriv'd from ancient days, +With thoughtless reverence we praise; +The rites that taught us to combine +The joys of musick and of wine, +And bade the feast, and song, and bowl +O'erfill the saturated soul: +But ne'er the flute or lyre applied +To cheer despair, or soften pride; +Nor call'd them to the gloomy cells +Where want repines and vengeance swells; +Where hate sits musing to betray, +And murder meditates his prey. +To dens of guilt and shades of care, +Ye sons of melody repair, +Nor deign the festive dome to cloy +With superfluities of joy. +Ah! little needs the minstrel's power +To speed the light convivial hour. +The board, with varied plenty crown'd, +May spare the luxuries of sound[b]. + +[a] The classical reader will, doubtless, be pleased to see the + exquisite original in immediate comparison with this translation; + we, therefore, subjoin it, and also Dr. J. Warton's imitation of + the same passage. + + [Greek:] + skaious de legon kouden ti sophous + tous prosthe brotous, ouk an amartois + oitines umnous epi men thaliais, + epi d'eilapinais kai para deipnois + euronto biou terpnas akoas + stugious de broton oudeis pulas + eureto mousae kai poluchordois + odais pauein, exon thanatoi + deinai te tuchai sphallonsi domous + kaitoi tade men kerdos akeisthai + molpaisi brotous ina d'endeipnoi + daites ti mataen teinousi boan + to paron gar echei terpsin aph auton + daitos plaeroma brotaoisin + MEDEA, 193--206. ED. PORS + + Queen of every moving measure, + Sweetest source of purest pleasure, + Music! why thy pow'rs employ + Only for the sons of joy; + Only for the smiling guests, + At natal or at nuptial feasts? + Rather thy lenient numbers pour + On those, whom secret griefs devour, + Bid be still the throbbing hearts + Of those whom death or absence parts, + And, with some softly whisper'd air, + Sooth the brow of dumb despair. + +[b] This translation was written by Johnson for his friend Dr. Burney, + and was inserted, as the work of "a learned friend," in that + gentleman's History of Musick, vol. ii. p. 340. It has always been + ascribed to Johnson; but, to put the matter beyond a doubt, Mr. + Malone ascertained the fact by applying to Dr. Burney himself. J. B. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FIRST TWO STANZAS OF THE SONG "RIO +VERDE, RIO VERDE," PRINTED IN BISHOP PERCY'S +RELIQUES OF ANCIENT ENGLISH POETRY. + +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Glassy water, glassy water, + Down whose current, clear and strong, +Chiefs confused in mutual slaughter, + Moor and Christian roll along. + + +IMITATION OF THE STYLE OF ****. + +Hermit hoar, in solemn cell + Wearing out life's ev'ning grey, +Strike thy bosom, sage, and tell + What is bliss, and which the way. + +Thus I spoke, and speaking sigh'd, + Scarce repress'd the starting tear, +When the hoary sage reply'd, + Come, my lad, and drink some beer. + + +BURLESQUE +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES OF LOPEZ DE VEGA. +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Se a quien los leones vence + Vence una muger hermosa, +O el de flaco avergonze, + O ella di ser mas furiosa. + +If the man who turnips cries, +Cry not when his father dies, +'Tis a proof, that he had rather +Have a turnip than his father. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES AT THE END OF BARETTI'S +EASY PHRASEOLOGY. + +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Viva, viva la padrona! +Tutta bella, e tutta buona, +La padrona e un' angiolella +Tutta buona e tutta bella; +Tutta bella e tutta buona; +Viva! viva la padrona! + +Long may live my lovely Hetty! +Always young, and always pretty; +Always pretty, always young, +Live, my lovely Hetty, long! +Always young, and always pretty, +Long may live my lovely Hetty! + + +IMPROVISO TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING DISTICH ON THE DUKE OF MODENA'S +RUNNING AWAY FROM THE COMET IN 1742 OR 1743. + +Se al venir vostro i principi sen' vanno +Deh venga ogni di--durate un' anno. + +If at your coming princes disappear, +Comets! come every day--and stay a year. + + +IMPROVISO TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES OF M. BENSERADE A SON LIT. + +Theatre des ris, et des pleurs, +Lit! ou je nais, et ou je meurs, +Tu nous fais voir comment voisins +Sont nos plaisirs, et nos chagrins. + +In bed we laugh, in bed we cry, +And, born in bed, in bed we die; +The near approach a bed may show +Of human bliss to human woe. + + +EPITAPH FOR MR. HOGARTH. + +The hand of him here torpid lies, + That drew th' essential form of grace; +Here clos'd in death th' attentive eyes, + That saw the manners in the face. + + +TRANSLATION +OF THE FOLLOWING LINES, WRITTEN UNDER A PRINT +REPRESENTING PERSONS SKATING. + +Sur un mince cristal l'hiver conduit leurs pas, + Le precipice est sous la glace: + Telle est de nos plaisirs la legere surface: +Glissez, mortels; n'appuyez pas. + +O'er ice the rapid skater flies, + With sport above, and death below; +Where mischief lurks in gay disguise, + Thus lightly touch and quickly go. + + +IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION OF THE SAME. + +O'er crackling ice, o'er gulfs profound, + With nimble glide the skaters play; +O'er treach'rous pleasure's flow'ry ground + Thus lightly skim, and haste away. + + +TO MRS. THRALE, +ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR. +AN IMPROMPTU. + +Oft in danger, yet alive, +We are come to thirty-five; +Long may better years arrive, +Better years than thirty-five! +Could philosophers contrive +Life to stop at thirty-five, +Time his hours should never drive +O'er the bounds of thirty-five. +High to soar, and deep to dive, +Nature gives at thirty-five. +Ladies, stock and tend your hive, +Trifle not at thirty-five; +For, howe'er we boast and strive. +Life declines from thirty-five. +He that ever hopes to thrive +Must begin by thirty-five; +And all, who wisely wish to wive, +Must look on Thrale at thirty-five. + + +IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION +OF AN AIR IN THE CLEMENZA DI TITO OF +METASTASIO, +BEGINNING "DEH SE PIACERMI VUOI." + +Would you hope to gain my heart, +Bid your teasing doubts depart; +He, who blindly trusts, will find +Faith from ev'ry gen'rous mind: +He, who still expects deceit, +Only teaches how to cheat. + + +TRANSLATION +OF A SPEECH OF AQUILEIO, IN THE ADRIANO OF METASTASIO, +BEGINNING "TU CHE IN CORTE INVECCHIASTI[a]." + +Grown old in courts, thou surely art not one +Who keeps the rigid rules of ancient honour; +Well skill'd to sooth a foe with looks of kindness, +To sink the fatal precipice before him, +And then lament his fall, with seeming friendship: +Open to all, true only to thyself, +Thou know'st those arts, which blast with envious praise, +Which aggravate a fault, with feign'd excuses, +And drive discountenanc'd virtue from the throne; +That leave the blame of rigour to the prince, +And of his ev'ry gift usurp the merit; +That hide, in seeming zeal, a wicked purpose, +And only build upon another's ruin. + +[a] The character of Cali, in Irene, is a masterly sketch of the old and + practised dissembler of a despotic court,--ED. + + +BURLESQUE +OF THE MODERN VERSIFICATIONS OF ANCIENT +LEGENDARY TALES. AN IMPROMPTU. + +The tender infant, meek and mild, + Fell down upon the stone: +The nurse took up the squealing child, + But still the child squeal'd on. + + +FRIENDSHIP; +AN ODE[a]. + +Friendship, peculiar boon of heaven, + The noble mind's delight and pride, +To men and angels only given, + To all the lower world deny'd. + +While love, unknown among the blest, + Parent of thousand wild desires[b], +The savage and the human breast + Torments alike with raging fires[c]; + +With bright, but oft destructive, gleam, + Alike, o'er all his lightnings fly; +Thy lambent glories only beam + Around the fav'rites of the sky. + +Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys + On fools and villains ne'er descend; +In vain for thee the tyrant sighs[d], + And hugs a flatt'rer for a friend. + +Directress of the brave and just[e], + O! guide us through life's darksome way! +And let the tortures of mistrust + On selfish bosoms only prey. + +Nor shall thine ardours cease to glow[f], + When souls to blissful climes remove: +What rais'd our virtue here below, + Shall aid our happiness above. + +[a] This ode originally appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1743. + See Boswell's Life of Johnson, under that year. It was afterwards + printed in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, in 1766, with several + variations, which are pointed out, below.--J.B. +[b] Parent of rage and hot desires.--Mrs. W. +[c] Inflames alike with equal fires. +[d] In vain for thee the _monarch_ sighs. +[e] This stanza is omitted in Mrs. William's Miscellanies, and instead + of it, we have the following, which may be suspected, from internal + evidence, not to have been Johnson's: + + When virtues, kindred virtues meet, + And sister-souls together join, + Thy pleasures permanent, as great, + Are all transporting--all divine. + +[f] O! shall thy flames then cease to glow. + + +ON SEEING A BUST OF MRS. MONTAGUE. + +Had this fair figure, which this frame displays, +Adorn'd in Roman time the brightest days, +In every dome, in every sacred place, +Her statue would have breath'd an added grace, +And on its basis would have been enroll'd, +"This is Minerva, cast in virtue's mould." + + +IMPROVISO +ON A YOUNG HEIR'S COMING OF AGE + +Long expected one-and-twenty, + Ling'ring year, at length is flown; +Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty, + Great----, are now your own. + +Loosen'd from the minor's tether, + Free to mortgage or to sell; +Wild as wind, and light as feather, + Bid the sons of thrift farewell. + +Call the Betseys, Kates, and Jennies, + All the names that banish care; +Lavish of your grandsire's guineas, + Show the spirit of an heir. + +All that prey on vice or folly + Joy to see their quarry fly: +There the gamester light and jolly, + There the lender grave and sly. + +Wealth, my lad, was made to wander, + Let it wander as it will; +Call the jockey, call the pander, + Bid them come, and take their fill. + +When the bonny blade carouses, + Pockets full, and spirits high-- +What are acres? what are houses? + Only dirt, or wet or dry. + +Should the guardian friend, or mother + Tell the woes of wilful waste; +Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother, + You can hang or drown at last. + + + +EPITAPHS. + + +AT LICHFIELD. +H. S. E. +MICHAEL JOHNSON, + +VIR impavidus, constans, animosus, periculorum immemor, +laborum patientissimus; fiducia christiana fortis, fervidusque; +paterfamilias apprime strenuus; bibliopola admodum +peritus; mente et libris et negotiis exculta; animo ita +firmo, ut, rebus adversis diu conflictatus, nec sibi nec suis +defuerit; lingua sic temperata, ut ei nihil quod aures vel +pias vel castas laesisset, aut dolor vel voluptas unquam +expresserit. + +Natus Cubleiae, in agro Derbiensi, anno MDCLVI; obijt +MDCCXXXI. + +Apposita est SARA, conjux, + +Antiqua FORDORUM gente oriunda; quam domi sedulam, +foris paucis notam; nulli molestam, mentis acumine +et judicii subtilitate praecellentem; aliis multum, sibi parum +indulgentem: aeternitati semper attentam, omne fere +virtutis nomen commendavit. + +Nata Nortoniae Regis, in agro Varvicensi, anno +MDCLXIX; obijt MDCCLIX. + +Cum NATHANAELE, illorum filio, qui natus MDCCXII. +cum vires et animi et corporis multa pollicerentur, anno +MDCCXXXVII. vitam brevem pia morte finivit. + + +IN BROMLEY CHURCH. +HIC conduntur reliquae +ELIZABETHAE +Antiqua JARVISIORUM gente +Peatlingae, apud Leicestrenses, ortae; +Formosae, cultae, ingeniosae, piae; +Uxoris, primis nuptiis, HENRICI PORTER, +secundis, SAMUELIS JOHNSON, +Qui multum amatam, diuque defletam, +Hoc lapide contexit. +Obijt Londini, mense Mart. +A. D. MDCCLIII. + + +IN WATFORD CHURCH. + +In the vault below are deposited the remains of +JANE BELL[a], wife of JOHN BELL, esq. +who, in the fifty-third year of her age, +surrounded with many worldly blessings, +heard, with fortitude and composure truly great, +the horrible malady, which had, for some time, begun to +afflict her, +pronounced incurable; +and for more than three years, +endured with patience, and concealed with decency, +the daily tortures of gradual death; +continued to divide the hours not allotted to devotion, +between the cares of her family, and the converse of +her friends; +rewarded the attendance of duty, +and acknowledged the offices of affection; +and, while she endeavoured to alleviate by cheerfulness +her husband's sufferings and sorrows, +increased them by her gratitude for his care, +and her solicitude for his quiet. +To the testimony of these virtues, +more highly honoured, as more familiarly known, +this monument is erected by +JOHN BELL. + +[a] She died in October, 1771. + + +IN STRETHAM CHURCH. + +Juxta sepulta est HESTERA MARIA, +Thomae Cotton de Combermere, baronetti Cestriensis, +filia, +Johannis Salusbury, armigeri Flintiensis, uxor, +Forma felix, felix ingenio; +Omnibus jucunda, suorum amantissima. +Linguis artibusque ita exeulta, +Ut loquenti nunquam deessent +Sermonis nitor, sententiarum flosculi, +Sapientiae gravitas, leporum gratia: +Modum servandi adeo perita, +Ut domestica inter negotia literis oblectaretur; +Literarum inter delicias, rem familiarem sedulo curaret. +Multis illi multos annos precantibus +diri carcinomatis venene contabuit, +nexibusque vitae paulatim resolutis, +e terris, meliora sperans, emigravit. +Nata 1707. Nupta 1739. Obijt 1773. + + +IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. + +OLIVARII GOLDSMITH, +Poetae, Physici, Historici, +Qui nullum fere scribendi genus +Non tetigit, +Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit: +Sive risus essent movendi, +Sive lacrimae, +Affectuum potens, at lenis, dominator: +Ingenio sublimis, vividus, versatilis, +Oratione grandis, nitidus, venustus: +Hoc monumento memoriam coluit +Sodalium amor, +Amicorum fides, +Lectorum veneratio. +Elfiniae, in Hibernia, natus MDCCXXIX. +Eblauae literis institutus: +Londini obijt MDCCLXXIV [a]. + +[a] This is the epitaph, that drew from Gibbon, sir J. Reynolds, +Sheridan, Joseph Warton, &c. the celebrated _Round Robin_, composed by +Burke, intreating Johnson to write an English epitaph on an English +author. His reply was, in the genuine spirit of an old scholar, "he +would never consent to disgrace the walls of Westminster abbey with an +English inscription." One of his arguments, in favour of a common +learned language, was ludicrously cogent: "Consider, sir, how you should +feel, were you to find, at Rotterdam, an epitaph, upon Erasmus, _in +Dutch_!" Boswell, iii. He would, however, undoubtedly have written a +better epitaph in English, than in Latin. His compositions in that +language are not of first rate excellence, either in prose or verse. The +epitaph, in Stretham church, on Mr. Thrale, abounds with inaccuracies; +and those who are fond of detecting little blunders in great men, may be +amply gratified in the perusal of a review of Thrale's epitaph in the +Classical Journal, xii. 6. His Greek epitaph on Goldsmith, is not +remarkable in itself, but we will subjoin it, in this place, as a +literary curiosity. + +[Greek:] +Thon taphon eisoraas thon OLIBARIOIO, koniaen + Aphrosi mae semnaen, xeine, podessi patei. +Oisi memaele phusis, metron charis, erga palaion, + Klaiete poiaetaen, istorikon, phusikon. + --ED. + + +IN STRETHAM CHURCH. + +Hie conditur quod reliquum est +HENRICI THRALE, +Qui res seu civiles, seu domesticas, ita egit, +Ut vitam illi longiorem multi optarent; +Ita sacras, +Ut quam brevem esset habiturus praescire videretur; +Simplex, apertus, sibique semper similis, +Nihil ostentavit aut arte fictum, aut cura +elaboratum. +In senatu, regi patriaeque +Fideliter studuit, +Vulgi obstrepentis contemptor animosus; +Domi, inter mille mercaturae negotia, +Literarum elegantiam minime neglexit. +Amicis, quocunque modo laborantibus, +Consiliis, auctoritate, muneribus, adfuit. +Inter familiares, comites, convivas, hospites, +Tam facili fuit morum suavitate +Ut omnium animos ad se alliceret; +Tam felici sermonis libertate, +Ut nulli adulatus, omnibus placeret. +Natus 1724. Obijt 1781. +Consortes tumuli habet Rodolphum, patrem, strenuum +fortemque virum, et Henricum, filium unicum, quem +spei parentum mors inopiua decennem proripuit. +Ita +Domus felix et opulenta quam erexit +Avus, auxitque pater, cum nepote decidit. +Abi, Viator, +Et, vicibus rerum humanarum perspectis, +Aeternitatem cogita! + + + + +POEMATA + + +MESSIA [a]. + +Ex alieno ingenio poeta, ex suo tantum versificator. +SCALIG. Poet. + +Tollite concentum, Solymaeae tollite nymphae, +Nil mortale loquor; coelum mihi carminis alta +Materies; poscunt gravius coelestia plectrum. +Muscosi fontes, sylvestria tecta, valete, +Aonidesque deae, et mendacis somnia Pindi: +Tu, mihi, qui flamma movisti pectora sancti +Siderea Isaiae, dignos accende furores! + Immatura calens rapitur per secula vates +Sic orsus--Qualis rerum mihi nascitur ordo! +Virgo! virgo parit! Felix radicibus arbor +Jessaeis surgit, mulcentesque sethera flores +Coelestes lambunt animae, ramisque columba, +Nuncia sacra Dei, plaudentibus insidet alis. +Nectareos rores, alimentaque mitia coelum +Praebeat, et tacite foecundos irriget imbres. +Hue, foedat quos lepra, urit quos febris, adeste, +Dia salutares spirant medicamina rami; +Hic requies fessis: non sacra sacvit in umbra +Vis boreae gelida, aut rapidi violeutia solis. +Irrita vanescent priscae vestigia fraudis, +Justitiaeque manus, pretio intemerata, bilancem +Attollet reducis; bellis praetendet olivas +Compositis pax alma suas, terrasque revisens +Sedatas niveo virtus lucebit amictu.-- +Volvantur celeres anni! lux purpuret ortum +Expectata diu! naturae claustra refringens, +Nascere, magne puer! tibi primas, ecce, corollas +Deproperat tellus, fundit tibi munera, quicquid +Carpit Arabs, hortis quicquid frondescit Eois; +Altius, en! Lebanon gaudentia culmina tollit; +En! summo exultant nutantes vertice sylvae: +Mittit aromaticas vallis Saronica nubes, +Et juga Carmeli recreant fragrantia coelum. +Deserti laeta mollescunt aspera voce: +Auditur Deus! ecce Deus! reboantia circum +Saxa sonant, Deus! ecce Deus! deflectitur aether, +Demissumque Deum tellus capit; ardua cedrus, +Gloria sylvarum, dominum inclinata salutet: +Surgite convalles, tumidi subsidite montes! +Sternite saxa viam, rapidi discedite fluctus; +En! quem turba diu cecinerunt enthea, vates, +En! salvator adest; vultus agnoscite, caeci, +Divinos, surdos sacra vox permulceat aures. +Ille cutim spissam visus hebetare vetabit, +Reclusisque oculis infundet amabile lumen; +Obstrictasque diu linguas in carmina solvet. +Ille vias vocis pandet, flexusque liquentis +Harmoniae purgata novos mirabitur auris. +Accrescunt teneris tactu nova robora nervis: +Consuetus fulcro innixus reptare bacilli +Nunc saltu capreas, nunc cursu provocat euros. +Non planctus, non moesta sonant suspiria; pectus +Singultans mulcet, lachrymantes tergit ocellos. +Vincla coercebunt luctantem adamantina mortem, +Aeternoque orci dominator vuluere languens +Invalidi raptos sceptri plorabit honores. +Ut, qua dulce strepunt scatebrse, qua lasta virescunt +Pascua, qua blandum spirat purissimus aer, +Pastor agit pecudes, teneros modo suscipit agnos, +Et gremio fotis selectas porrigit herbas, +Amissas modo quserit oves, revocatque vagantes; +Fidus adest custos, seu nox furat humida nimbis, +Sive dies medius morieutia torreat arva. +Postera sic pastor divinus secla beabit, +Et curas felix patrias testabitur orbis. +Non ultra infestis concurrent agmina signis, +Hostiles oculis flammas jaculantia torvis; +Non litui accendent bellum, non campus ahenis +Triste coruscabit radiis; dabit hasta recusa +Vomerem, et in falcem rigidus curvabitur ensis. +Atria, pacis opus, surgent, finemque caduci +Natus ad optatum perducet coepta parentis. +Qui duxit sulcos, illi teret area messem, +Et serae texent vites umbracula proli. +Attoniti dumeta vident inculta coloni +Suave rubere rosis, sitientesque inter arenas +Garrula mirantur salientis murmura rivi. +Per saxa, ignivomi nuper spelaea draconis, +Canna viret, juncique tremit variabilis umbra. +Horruit implexo qua vallis sente, figurae +Surgit amans abies teretis, buxique sequaces +Artificis frondent dextrae; palmisque rubeta +Aspera, odoratae cedunt mala gramiua myrto. +Per valles sociata lupo lasciviet agna, +Cumque leone petet tutus praesepe juvencus. +Florea mansuetae petulantes vincula tigri +Per ludum pueri injicient, et fessa colubri +Membra viatoris recreabunt frigore linguae. +Serpentes teneris nil jam lethale micantes +Tractabit palmis infans, motusque trisulcae +Bidebit linguae innocuos, squamasque virentes +Aureaque admirans rutilantis fulgura cristae. +Indue reginam, turritae frontis honores +Tolle Salema sacros, quam circum gloria pennas +Explicat, incinctam radiatae luce tiaras! +En! formosa tibi spatiosa per atria proles +Ordinibus surgit densis, vitamque requirit +Impatiens, lenteque fluentes increpat annos. +Ecce peregrinis fervent tua limina turbis; +Barbarus, en! clarum divino lumine templum +Ingreditur, cultuque tuo mansuescere gaudet. +Cinnameos cumulos, Nabathaei munera veris, +Ecce! cremant genibus tritae regalibus arae. +Solis Ophyraeis crudum tibi montibus aurum +Maturant radii; tibi balsama sudat Idume. +Aetheris en! portas sacro fulgore micantes +Coelicolae pandunt, torrentis aurea lucis +Flumina prorumpunt; non posthac sole rubescet +India nascenti, placidaeve argentea noctis +Luna vices revehet; radios pater ipse diei +Proferet archetypos; coelestis gaudia lucis +Ipso fonte bibes, quae circumfusa beatam +Regiam inundabit, nullis cessura tenebris. +Littora deficiens arentia deseret aequor; +Sidera fumabunt, diro labefaeta tremore +Saxa cadent, solidique liquescent robora montis: +Tu secura tamen confusa elementa videbis, +Laetaque Messia semper dominabere rege, +Pollicitis firmata Dei, stabilita ruinis. + +[a] This translation has been severely criticised by Dr. Warton, in his + edition of Pope, vol. i. p. 105, 8vo. 1797. It certainly contains + some expressions that are not classical. Let it be remembered, + however, that it was a college exercise, performed with great + rapidity, and was, at first, praised, beyond all suspicion of + defect--This translation was first published in a Miscellany of + Poems by several hands. Published by J. Husbands, A.M. fellow of + Pembroke college, Oxon. 8vo. Oxford, 1731. Of Johnson's production, + Mr. Husbands says, in his preface, "The translation of Mr. Pope's + Messiah was delivered to his tutor as a college exercise, by Mr. + Johnson, a commoner of Pembroke college in Oxford, and 'tis hoped + will be no discredit to the excellent original." Mr. Husbands died + in the following year. + + +[Jan. 20, 21, 1773.] + Vitae qui varias vices +Rerum perpetuus temperat arbiter, + Laeto cedere lumini +Noctis tristitiam qui gelidae jubet, + Acri sanguine turgidos, +Obductosque oculos nubibus humidis + Sanari voluit meos; +Et me, cuncta beaus cui nocuit dies, + Luci reddidit et mihi. +Qua te laude, Deus, qua prece prosequar? + Sacri discipulis libri +Te semper studiis utilibus colam: + Grates, summe pater, tuis +Recte qui fruitur muneribus, dedit. + + +[Dec. 25, 1779.] +Nunc dies Christo memoranda nato +Fulsit, in pectus mihi fonte purum +Gaudium sacro fluat, et benigni + Gratia coeli! + +Christe, da tutam trepido quietem, +Christe, spem praesta stabilem timenti; +Da fidem certam, precibusque fidis + Annue, Christe. + + +[In lecto, die passionis, Apr. 13, 1781.] +Summe Deus, qui semper amas quodcunque creasti; + Judice quo, scelerum est poenituisse salus: +Da veteres noxas animo sic flere novato, + Per Christum ut veniam sit reperire mihi. + + +[In lecto, Dec. 25, 1782.] +Spe non inani confugis, +Peccator, ad latus meum; +Quod poscis, hand unquam tibi +Negabitur solatium. + + +(Nocte, inter 16 et 17 Junii, 1783[a]) +Summe pater, quodcunque tuum[b] de corpore Numen[c] +Hoc statuat[d], precibus[e] Christus adesse velit: +Ingenio parcas, nee sit mihi culpa rogasse[f], +Qua solum potero parte, placere[g] tibi. + +[a] The night, above referred to by Dr. Johnson, was that, in which a + paralytic stroke had deprived him of his voice; and, in the anxiety + he felt, lest it should, likewise, have impaired his understanding, + he composed the above lines, and said, concerning them, that he + knew, at the time, that they were not good, but then, that he deemed + his discerning this to be sufficient for quieting the anxiety before + mentioned, as it showed him, that his power of judging was not + diminished. +[b] Al. tuae. +[c] Al. leges. +[d] Al. statuant. +[e] Al. votis. +[f] Al. precari. +[g] Al. litare. + + +[Cal. Jan. in lecto, ante lucem, 1784.] +Summe dator vitae, naturae aeterne magister, + Causarum series quo moderante fluit, +Respice quem subiget senium, morbique seniles, + Quem terret vitae meta propinqua suae, +Respice inutiliter lapsi quem poenitet aevi; + Recte ut poeniteat, respice, magne parens. + + +Pater benigne, summa semper lenitas, +Crimine gravatam plurimo mentem leva: +Concede veram poenitentiam, precor, +Concede agendam legibus vitam tuis. +Sacri vagantes luminis gressus face +Rege, et tuere; quae nocent pellens procul: +Veniam petenti, summe, da veniam, pater; +Veniaeque sancta pacis adde gaudia: +Sceleris ut expers, omni et vacuus metu, +Te, mente pura, mente tranquilla colam, +Mihi dona morte haec impetret Christus sua. + + +[Jan. 18, 1784.] +Summe pater, puro collustra lumine pectus, + Anxietas noceat ne tenebrosa mihi. +In me sparsa manu virtutum semina larga + Sic ale, proveniat messis ut ampla boni. +Noctes atque dies animo spes laeta recurset; + Certa mihi sancto flagret amore fides; +Certa vetat dubitare fides, spes laeta timere; + Velle vetet cuiquam non bene sanctus amor. +Da, ne sint permissa, pater, mihi praemia frustra, + Et colere, et leges semper amare tuas. +Haec mihi, quo gentes, quo secula, Christe, piasti, + Sanguine, precanti promereare tuo! + + +[Feb. 27, 1784.] +Mens mea, quid quereris? veniet tibi mollior hora, + In summo ut videas numine laeta patrem; +Divinam insontes iram placavit Iesus; + Nunc est pro poena poenituisse reis. + + +CHRISTIANUS PERFECTUS. + +Qui cupit in sanctos, Christo cogente, referri, +Abstergat mundi labem, nec gaudia carnis +Captans, nec fastu tumidus, semperque futuro +Instet, et evellens terroris spicula corde, +Suspiciat tandem clementem in numine patrem. + Huic quoque, nec genti nec sectae noxius ulli, +Sit sacer orbis amor, miseris qui semper adesse +Gestiat, et, nullo pietatis limite clausus, +Cunctorum ignoscat vitiis, pictate fruatur. +Ardeat huic toto sacer ignis pectore, possit +Ut vitam, poscat si res, impendere vero. + Cura placere Deo sit prima, sit ultima; sanctae +Irruptum vitae cupiat servare tenorem; +Et sibi, delirans quanquam et peccator in horas +Displiceat, servet tutum sub pectore rectum: +Nec natet, et nunc has partes, nunc eligat illas, +Nec dubitet quem dicat herum, sed, totus in uno, +Se fidum addicat Christo, mortalia temnens. + Sed timeat semper, caveatque ante omnia, turbae +Ne stolidae similis, leges sibi segreget audax +Quas servare velit, leges quas lentus omittat, +Plenum opus effugiens, aptans juga mollia collo, +Sponte sua demens; nihilum decedere summae +Vult Deus, at qui cuncta dedit tibi, cuncta reposcit. +Denique perpetuo contendit in ardua nisu, +Auxilioque Dei fretus, jam mente serena +Pergit, et imperiis sentit se dulcibus actum. +Paulatim mores, animum, vitamque refingit, +Effigiemque Dei, quantum servare licebit, +Induit, et, terris major, coelestia spirat. + + +Aeterne rerum conditor, +Salutis aeternae dator; +Felicitatis sedibus +Qui nec scelestos exigis, +Quoscumque scelerum poenitet; +Da, Christe, poenitentiam, +Veniamque, Christe, da mihi; +Aegrum trahenti spiritum +Succurre praesens corpori; +Multo gravatam crimine +Mentem benignus alleva. + + +Luce collustret mihi pectus alma, +Pellat et tristes animi tenebras, +Nec sinat semper tremere ac dolere, +Gratia Christi. + +Me pater tandem reducem benigno +Summus amplexu foveat, beato +Me gregi sanctus socium beatum +Spiritus addat. + + +JEJUNIUM ET CIBUS. + +Serviat ut menti corpus jejunia serva, +Ut mens utatur corpore, sume cibos. + + +AD URBANUM[a], 1738. +Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus, +Urbane, nullis victe calumniis, + Cui fronte sertum in erudita + Perpetuo viret, et virebit; +Quid moliatur gens imitantium, +Quid et minetur, solicitus parum, + Vacare solis perge musis, + Juxta animo, studiisque foelix. +Linguae procacis plumbea spicula, +Fidens, superbo frange silentio; + Victrix per obstantes catervas + Sedulitas animosa tendet. +Intende nervos fortis, inanibus +Risurus olim nisibus emuli; + Intende jam nervos, habebis + Participes opera Camoenas. +Non ulla musis pagina gratior, +Quam quae severis ludicra jungere + Novit, fatigatamque nugis + Utilibus recreare mentem. +Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, +Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat + Immista, sic Iris refulget + Aethereis variata fucis. + +[a] See Gent. Mag. vol. viii. p. 156; and see also the Introduction to + vol. liv. + + +IN RIVUM A MOLA STOANA LICHFELDIAE DIFFLUENTEM. + +Errat adhuc vitreus per prata virentia rivus, + Quo toties lavi membra tenella puer; +Hic delusa rudi frustrabar brachia motu, + Dum docuit, blanda voce, natare pater. +Fecerunt rami latebras, tenebrisque diurnis + Pendula secretas abdidit arbor aquas. +Nunc veteres duris periere securibus umbrae, + Longinquisque oculis nuda lavacra patent. +Lympha, tamen, cursus agit indefessa perennis, + Tectaque qua fluxit, nunc et aperta fluit. +Quid ferat externi velox, quid deterat aetas, + Tu quoque securus res age, Nise, tuas. + + +[Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON][a] +[Post Lexicon Anglicanum auctum et emendatum.] + +Lexicon ad finem longo luctamine tandem +Scaliger ut duxit, tenuis pertaesus opellae, +Vile indignatus studium, nugasque molestas +Ingemit exosus, scribendaque lexica mandat +Damnatis, poenam pro poenis omnibus unam. + Ille quidem recte, sublimis, doctus et acer, +Quem decuit majora sequi, majoribus aptum, +Qui veterum modo facta ducum, modo carmina vatum, +Gesserat, et quicquid virtus, sapientia quicquid +Dixerat, imperiique vices, coelique meatus, +Ingentemque animo seclorum volveret orbem. + Fallimur exemplis; temere sibi turba scholarum +Ima tuas credit permitti, Scaliger, iras. +Quisque suum norit modulum; tibi, prime virorum, +Ut studiis sperem, aut ausim par esse querelis, +Non mihi sorte datum; lenti seu sanguinis obsint +Frigora, seu nimium longo jacuisse veterno, +Sive mihi mentem dederit natura minorem. + Te sterili functum cura, vocumque salebris +Tuto eluctatum, spatiis sapientia dia +Excipit aethereis, ars omnis plaudit amico, +Linguarumque omni terra discordia concors +Multiplici reducem circumsonat ore magistrum. + Me, pensi immunis cum jam mihi reddor, inertis +Desidiae sors dura manet, graviorque labore +Tristis et atra quies, et tardae taedia vitae. +Nascuntur curis curae, vexatque dolorum +Importuna cohors, vacuae mala somnia mentis. +Nunc clamosa juvant nocturnae gaudia mensae, +Nunc loca sola placent; frustra te, somne, recumbens, +Alme voco, impatiens noctis, metuensque diei. +Omnia percurro trepidus, circum omnia lustro, +Si qua usquam pateat melioris semita vitae, +Nec quid again invenio; meditatus grandia, cogor +Notior ipse mihi fieri, incultumque fateri +Pectus, et ingenium vano se robore jactans. +Ingenium, nisi materiem doctrina ministrat, +Cessat inops rerum, ut torpet, si marmoris absit +Copia, Phidiaci foecunda potentia coeli. +Quicquid agam, quocunque ferar, conatibus obstat +Res angusta domi, et macrae penuria mentis. + Non rationis opes animus, nunc parta recensens +Conspicit aggestas, et se miratur in illis, +Nec sibi de gaza praesens quod postulat usus +Summus adesse jubet celsa dominator ab arce; +Non, operum serie seriem dum computat aevi, +Praeteritis fruitur, laetos aut sumit honores +Ipse sui judex, actae bene munera vitae; +Sed sua regna videns, loca nocte silentia late +Horret, ubi vanae species, umbraeque fugaces, +Et rerum volitant rarae per inane figurae. + Quid faciam? tenebrisne pigram damnare senectam +Restat? an accingar studiis gravioribus audax? +Aut, hoc si nimium est, tandem nova lexica poscam? + +[a] For a translation of this poem, see Murphy's Essay on the Life and + Genius of Dr. Johnson, prefixed to the present volume. + + +AD THOMAM LAURENCE, +MEDICUM DOCTISSIMUM, + +Cum filium peregre agentem desiderio nimis tristi prosequeretur. + +Fateris ergo, quod populus solet +Crepare vecors, nil sapientiam + Prodesse vitae, literasque + In dubiis dare terga rebus. + +Tu, queis laborat sors hominum, mala +Nec vincis acer, nee pateris pius; + Te mille succorum potentem + Destituit medicina mentis. + +Per caeca noctis taedia turbidae, +Pigrae per horas lucis inutiles, + Torpesque, languescisque, curis + Solicitus nimis heu! paternis. + +Tandem dolori plus satis est datum, +Exsurge fortis, nunc animis opus, + Te, docta, Laurenti, vetustas, + Te medici revocant labores. + +Permitte summo quicquid habes patri, +Permitte fidens; et muliebribus, + Amice, majorem querelis + Redde tuis, tibi redde, mentem. + + +IN THEATRO, MARCH 8, 1771. + +Tertii verso quater orbe lustri, +Quid theatrales tibi, Crispe, pompae? +Quam decet canos male litteratos + Sera voluptas! + +Tene mulceri fidibus canoris? +Tene cantorum modulis stupere? +Tene per pictas, oculo elegante, + Currere formas? + +Inter aequales, sine felle liber, +Codices, veri studiosus, inter +Rectius vives. Sua quisque carpat + Gaudia gratus. + +Lusibus gaudet puer otiosis, +Luxus oblectat juvenem theatri, +At seni fluxo sapienter uti + Tempore restat. + + +INSULA KENNETHI, INTER HEBRIDAS. + +Parva quidem regio, sed religione priorum + Clara, Caledonias panditur inter aquas. +Voce ubi Cennethus populos domuisse feroces + Dicitur, et vanos dedocuisse deos. +Huc ego delatus placido per caerulea cursu, + Scire locus volui quid daret iste novi. +Illic Leniades humili regnabat in aula, + Leniades, magnis nobilitatus avis. +Una duas cepit casa cum genitore puellas, + Quas amor undarum crederet esse deas. +Nec tamen inculti gelidis latuere sub antris, + Accola Danubii qualia saevus habet. +Mollia non desunt vacuae solatia vitae, + Sive libros poscant otia, sive lyram. +Fulserat ilia dies, legis qua docta supernae + Spes hominum et curas gens procul esse jubet. +Ut precibus justas avertat numinis iras, + Et summi accendat pectus amore boni. +Ponte inter strepitus non sacri munera cultus + Cessarunt, pietas hic quoque cura fuit: +Nil opus est aeris sacra de turre sonantis + Admonitu, ipsa suas nunciat hora vices. +Quid, quod sacrifici versavit foemina libros. + Sint pro legitimis pura labella sacris-- +Quo vagor ulterius? quod ubique requiritur hic est; + Hic secura quies, hic et honestus amor. + + +SKIA. + +Ponti profundis clausa recessibus, +Strepens procellis, rupibus obsita, +Quam grata defesso virentem, +Skia, sinum nebulosa pandis! + +His cura, credo, sedibus exulat; +His blanda certe pax habitat locis; + Non ira, non moeror quietis + Insidias meditatur horis. + +At non cavata rupe latescere, +Menti nec aegrae montibus aviis + Prodest vagari, nec frementes + In specula numerare fluctus. + +Humana virtus non sibi sufficit; +Datur nec aequum cuique animum sibi + Parare posse, utcunque jactet + Grandiloquus nimis alta Zeno. + +Exaestuantis pectoris impetum, +Rex summe, solus tu regis, arbiter; + Mentisque, te tollente, fluctus; + Te, resident, moderante fluctus. + + +ODE DE SKIA INSULA. + +Permeo terras, ubi nuda rupes +Saxeas miscet nebulis ruinas, +Torva ubi rident steriles coloni + Rura labores. + +Pervagor gentes hominum ferorum, +Vita ubi nullo decorata cultu +Squallet informis, tugurique fumis + Foeda latescit. + +Inter erroris salebrosa longi, +Inter ignotae strepitus loquelae, +Quot modis, mecum, quid agat, requiro, + Thralia dulcis? + +Seu viri curas pia nupta mulcet, +Seu fovet mater sobolem benigna, +Sive cum libris novitate pascit + Sedula mentem. + +Sit memor nostri, fideique solvat +Fida mercedem, meritoque blandum +Thraliae discant resonare nomen + Littora Skiae. + + +SPES. + +Apr. 16, 1783. + +Hora sic peragit citata cursum; +Sic diem sequitur dies fugacem! +Spes novas nova lux parit, secunda +Spondens omnia credulis homullis; +Spes ludit stolidas, metuque caeco +Lux angit, miseros ludens homullos. + + +VERSUS COLLARI CAPRAE DOMINI BANKS INSCRIBENDI. + +Perpetui, ambita bis terra, praemia lactis + Haec habet, altrici capra secunda Jovis. + + +AD FOEMINAM QUANDAM GENEROSAM QUAE LIBERTATIS +CAUSAE IN SERMONE PATROCINATA FUERAT. + +Liber ut esse velim, suasisti, pulchra Maria: + Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria, vale. + + +JACTURA TEMPORIS. + +Hora perit furtim laetis, mens temporis aegra + Pigritiam incusat, nec minus hora perit. + +Quas navis recipit, quantum sit pondus aquarum, + Dimidrum tanti ponderis intret onus. + +Quot vox missa pedes abit, horae parte secunda? + Undecies centum denos quater adde duosque. + + +[Greek: Eis BIRCHION][a] + +[Greek:] +Eiden Alaetheiae proaen chairousa graphonta + Haeroon te bious Birchion, aede sophon +Kai bion, eipen, hotan rhipsaes thanatoio belessi, + Sou pote grapsomenon Birchion allon echois. + +[a] The rev. Dr. Thomas Birch, author of the History of the Royal + Society, and other works of note. + + +[Greek:] Eis to taes ELISSAES peri ton oneiron ainigma.[a] +Tae kallous dunamei ti telos; Zeus panta dedoken + Kupridi, und' autou skaeptra memaele theo. +Aek Dios estin Onap, theios pot' egrapsen Homaeros, + Alla tod' eis thnaetous Kupris epempsen onar +Zeus mounos phlogoenti poleis ekperse kerauno, + Ommasi lampra Dios Kupris oista pherei. + +[a] When Johnson had composed this Greek epigram to Mrs. Elizabeth + Carter, he said, in a letter to Cave, "I think she ought to be + celebrated in as many different languages as Louis le grand." His + admiration of her learning was so great, that when he wished to + praise the acquirements of any one excessively, he remarked that, he + knew as much Greek almost as Mrs. Carter. The verses in Elizae + Aenigma are addressed to the same excellent and accomplished lady. + It is now nearly an insult to add, that she translated Epictetus, + and contributed Nos. 44 and 100, to the Rambler. See Boswell, i. + iii. and iv. and preface to Rambler, ii.--ED. + + +IN ELIZAE AENIGMA. + +Quis formae modus imperio? Venus arrogat audax + Omnia, nec curae sunt sua sceptra Jovi. +Ab Jove Maeonides descendere somnia narrat: + Haec veniunt Cypriae somnia missa Deae. +Jupiter unus erat, qui stravit fulmine gentes; + Nunc armant Veneris lumina tela Jovis. + +[a]O! Qui benignus crimina ignoscis, pater, + Facilisque semper confitenti ades reo, +Aurem faventem precibus O! praebe meis; + Scelerum catena me laborantem grave +Aeterna tandem liberet clementia, + Ut summa laus sit, summa Christo gloria. + +Per vitae tenebras rerumque incerta vagantem + Numine praesenti me tueare, pater! +Me ducat lux sancta, Deus, lux sancta sequatur; + Usque regat gressus gratia fida meos. +Sic peragam tua jussa libens, accinctus ad omne + Mandatum vivam, sic moriarque tibi. + +Me, pater omnipotens, de puro respice coelo, + Quem moestum et timidum crimina dira gravant; +Da veniam pacemque mihi, da, mente serena, + Ut tibi quae placeant, omnia promptus agam. +Solvi, quo Christus cunctis delicta redemit, + Et pro me pretium, tu patiare, pater. + +[a] This and the three following articles are metrical versions of + collects in the liturgy; the first, of that, beginning, "O God, + whose nature and property"; the second and third of the collects for + the seventeenth and twenty-first Sundays after Trinity; and the + fourth, of the first collect in the communion service. + + +[Dec. 5, 1784.][a] +Summe Deus, cui caeca patent penetralia cordis; + Quem nulla anxietas, nulla cupido fugit; +Quem nil vafrities peccantum subdola celat; + Omnia qui spectans, omnia ubique regis; +Mentibus afflatu terrenas ejice sordes + Divino, sanctus regnet ut intus amor: +Eloquiumque potens linguis torpentious affer, + Ut tibi laus omni semper ab ore sonet: +Sanguine quo gentes, quo secula cuncta piavit, + Haec nobis Christus promeruisse velit! + +[a] The day on which he received the sacrament for the last time; and + eight days before his decease. + + +PSALMUS CXVII. + +Anni qua volucris ducitur orbita, +Patrem coelicolum perpetuo colunt + Quo vis sanguine cretae + Gentes undique carmine. + +Patrem, cujus amor blandior in dies +Mortales miseros servat, alit, fovet, + Omnes undique gentes, + Sancto dicite carmine. + + +[a]Seu te saeva fames, levitas sive improba fecit, + Musca, meae comitem, participemque dapis, +Pone metum, rostrum fidens immitte culullo, + Nam licet, et toto prolue laeta mero. +Tu, quamcunque tibi velox indulserit annus, + Carpe diem; fugit, heu, non revocanda dies! +Quae nos blanda comes, quae nos perducat eodem, + Volvitur hora mihi, volvitur hora tibi! +Una quidem, sic fata volunt, tibi vivitur aestas, + Eheu, quid decies plus mihi sexta dedit! +Olim praeteritae numeranti tempora vitae, + Sexaginta annis non minor unus erit. + +[a] The above is a version of the song, "Busy, curious, thirsty fly." + + +[b]Habeo, dedi quod alteri; +Habuique, quod dedi mihi; +Sed quod reliqui, perdidi. + +[b] These lines are a version of three sentences that are said, in the + manuscript, to be "On the monument of John of Doncaster;" and which + are as follow: + + What I gave, that I have; + What I spent, that I had; + What I left, that I lost. + + +[a]E WALTONI PISCATORE PERFECTO EXCERPTUM. + +Nunc, per gramina fusi, +Densa fronde salicti, +Dum defenditur imber, +Molles ducimus horas. +Hic, dum debita morti +Paulum vita moratur, +Nunc rescire priora, +Nunc instare futuris, +Nunc summi prece sancta +Patris numen adire est. +Quicquid quraeitur ultra, +Caeco ducit amore, +Vel spe ludit inani, +Luctus mox pariturum. + +[a] These lines are a translation of part of a song in the Complete + Angler of Isaac Walton, written by John Chalkhill, a friend of + Spenser, and a good poet in his time. They are but part of the last + stanza, which, that the reader may have it entire, is here given at + length: + +If the sun's excessive heat + Make our bodies swelter, +To an osier hedge we get + For a friendly shelter! + Where in a dike, + Perch or pike, + Roach or dace, + We do chase, +Bleak or gudgeon, + Without grudging, + We are still contented. +Or we sometimes pass an hour + Under a green willow, +That defends us from a shower, + Making earth our pillow; + Where we may + Think and pray, + Before death + Stops our breath: + Other joys + Are but toys, + And to be lamented. + + +[a]Quisquis iter tendis, vitreas qua lucidus undas +Speluncae late Thamesis praetendit opacae; +Marmorea trepidant qua lentae in fornice guttae, +Crystallisque latex fractus scintillat acutis; +Gemmaque, luxuriae nondum famulata nitenti +Splendit, et incoquitur tectum sine fraude metallum; +Ingredere O! rerum pura cole mente parentem; +Auriferasque auri metuens scrutare cavernas. +Ingredere! Egeriae sacrum en tibi panditur antrum! +Hic, in se totum, longe per opaca futuri +Temporis, Henricum rapuit vis vivida mentis: +Hic pia Vindamius traxit suspiria, in ipsa +Morte memor patriae; hic Marmonti pectore prima +Coelestis fido caluerunt semina flammae. +Temnere opes, pretium sceleris, patriamque tueri +Fortis, ades; tibi, sponte, patet venerabile limen. + +[a] The above lines are a version of Pope's verses on his own grotto, + which begin, "Thou, who shall stop where Thames' translucent wave." + + + +GRAECORTUM EPIGRAMMATUM VERSIONES METRICAE. + + Pag. 2. Brodaei edit. Bas. ann. 1549. +Non Argos pugilem, non me Messana creavit; + Patria Sparta mihi est, patria clara virum. +Arte valent isti, mihi robo revivere solo est, + Convenit ut natis, inclyta Sparta, tuis. + + Br. 2. +Quandoquidem passim nulla ratione feruntur, + Cuncta cinis, cuncta et ludicra, cuncta nihil. + + Br. 5. +Pectore qui duro, crudos de vite racemos, + Venturi exsecuit vascula prima meri, +Labraque constrictus, semesos, jamque terendos + Sub pedibus, populo praetereunte, jacit. +Supplicium huic, quoniam crescentia gaudia laesit, + Det Bacchus, dederat quale, Lycurge, tibi. +Hae poterant uvae laeto convivia cantu + Mulcere, aut pectus triste levare malis. + + Br. 8. +Fert humeris claudum validis per compita caecus, + Hic oculos socio commodat, ille pedes. + + Br. 10. +Qui, mutare vias ausus terraeque marisque, + Trajecit montes nauta, fretumque pedes, +Xerxi, tercentum Spartae Mars obstitit acris + Militibus; terris sit pelagoque pudor! + + Br. 11. +Sit tibi, Calliope, Parnassum, cura, tenenti, +Alter ut adsit Homerus, adest etenim alter Achilles. + + Br. 18. +Ad musas Venus haec: Veneri parete, puellae, + In vos ne missus spicula tendat amor. +Haec musae ad Venerem: sic Marti, diva, mineris, + Hue nunquam volitat debilis iste puer. + + Br. 19. +Prospera sors nec te strepitoso turbine tollat, + Nec menti injiciat sordida cura jugum; +Nam vita incertis incerta impellitur auris, + Omnesque in partes tracta, retracta fluit; +Firma manet virtus; virtuti innitere, tutus + Per fluctus vitae sic tibi cursus erit. + + Br. 24. +Hora bonis quasi nunc instet suprema fruaris, + Plura ut victurus secula, parce bonis: +Divitiis, utrinque cavens, qui tempore parcit, + Tempore divitiis utitur, ille sapit. + + Br. 24. +Nunquam jugera messibus onusta, aut +Quos Gyges cumulos habebat auri; +Quod vitae satis est, peto, Macrine, +Mi, nequid nimis, est nimis probatum. + + Br. 24. +Non opto aut precibus posco ditescere, paucis + Sit contenta mihi vita, dolore carens. + + Br. 24 +Recta ad pauperiem tendit, cui corpora cordi est + Multa alere, et multas aedificare domos. + + Br. 24. +Tu neque dulce putes alienae accumbere mensae; + Nec probrosa avidae grata sit offa gulae; +Nec ficto fletu, fictis solvere cachinnis, + Arridens domino, collacrymansque tuo; +Laetior hand tecum, tecum neque tristior unquam, + Sed Miliae ridens, atque dolens Miliae. + + Br. 26. +Nil non mortale est mortalibus; omne quod est hie + Praetereunt, aut hos praeterit omne bonum. + + Br. 26. +Democrite, invisas homines majore cachinno; + Plus tibi ridendum secula nostra dabunt. +Heraclite, fluat lacrymarum crebrior imber; + Vita hominum nunc plus quod misereris habet. +Interea dubito; tecum me causa nec ulla + Ridere, aut tecum me lacrymare jubet. + + Br. 26. +Elige iter vitae, ut possis: rixisque, dolisque, + Perstrepit omne forum; cura molesta domi est; +Rura labor lassat; mare mille pericula terrent; + Verte solum, fient causa timoris opes; +Paupertas misera est; multae, cum conjuge, lites + Tecta ineunt; coelebs omnia solus ages. +Proles aucta gravat, rapta orbat; caeca juventae est + Virtus; canities cauta vigore caret. +Ergo optent homines, aut nunquam in luminis oras + Venisse, aut visa luce repente mori. + +Elige iter vitae, ut mavis: prudenua, lausque, + Permeat omne forum; vita quieta domi est; +Rus ornat natura; levat maris aspera lucrum, + Verte solum, donat plena crumena decus; +Pauperies latitat; cum conjuge, gaudia multa + Tecta ineunt; coelebs impediere minus; +Mulcet amor prolis, sopor est sine prole profundus; + Praecellit juvenis vi, pietate senex. +Nemo optet, nunquam venisse in luminis oras, + Aut periisse; scatet vita benigna bonis. + + Br. 27. +Vita omnis scena est ludusque: aut ludere disce + Seria seponens, aut mala dura pati. + + Br. 27. +Quae, sine morte, fuga est vitae, quam turba malorum + Non vitanda gravem, non toleranda facit? +Dulcia dat natura quidem, mare, sidera, terras, + Lunaque quas, et sol, itque reditque vias. +Terror inest aliis, moerorque, et siquid habebis, + Forte, boni, ultrices experiere vices. + + Br. 27. +Terram adii nudus, de terra nudus abibo. + Quid labor efficiet? non, nisi nudus, ero. + + Br. 27. +Natus eram lacrymans, lacrymans e luce recedo: + Sunt quibus a lacrymis vix vacat ulla dies. +Tale hominum genus est, infirmum, triste, misellum, + Quod mors in cineres solvit, et abdit humo. + + Br. 29. +Quisquis adit lectos, elata uxore, secundos, + Naufragus iratas ille retentat aquas. + + Br. 30. +Foelix ante alios nullius debitor aeris; + Hunc sequitur coelebs; tertius, orbe, venis. +Nee male res cessit, subito si funere sponsam, + Didatus magna dote, recondis humo. +His sapiens lectis, Epicurum quaerere frustra + Quales sint monades, qua fit inane, sinas. + + Br. 31. +Optarit quicunque senex sibi longius aevum, + Dignus, qui multa in lustra senescat, erit. +Cum procul est, optat, cum venit, quisque senectam, + Incusat, semper spe meliora videt. + + Br. 46. +Omnis vita nimis brevis est felicibus, una + Nox miseris longi temporis instar habet. + + Br. 55. +Gratia ter grata est velox, sin forte moretur, + Gratia vix restat nomine digna suo. + + Br. 56. +Seu prece poscatur, seu non, da, Jupiter, omne, +Magne, bonum; omne malum, et poscentibus, abnue nobis. + + Br. 60. +Me, cane vitato, canis excipit alter; eodem + In me animo tellus gignit et unda feras, +Nec mirum; restat lepori conscendere coelum, + Sidereus tamen hie territat, ecce canis! + + Br. 70. +Telluri arboribus ver frondens, sidera coelo, + Graeciae et urbs, urbi est ista propago, decus. + + Br. 75. +Impia facta patrans, homines fortasse latebis, + Non poteris, meditans prava, latere deos. + + Br. 75. +Antiope satyrum, Danae aurum, Europa juvencum, + Et cycnum fecit Leda petita, Jovem. + + Br. 92. +Aevi sat novi quam sim brevis; astra tuenti, + Per certas; stabili lege, voluta vices, +Tangitur haud pedibus tellus: conviva deorum + Expleor ambrosiis, exhilarorque cibis. + + Br. 96. +Quod nimium est sit ineptum, hinc, ut dixere priores, + Et melli nimio fellis amaror inest. + + Br. 103. +Puppe gubernatrix sedisti, audacia, prima + Divitiis acuens aspera corda virum; +Sola rates struis infidas, et dulcis amorem + Lucri ulciscendum mox nece sola doces. +Aurea secla hominum, quorum spectandus ocellis +E longinquo itidem pontus et orcus erat. + + Br. 126. +Ditescis, credo, quid restat? quicquid habebis + In tumulum tecum, morte jubente, trahes? +Divitias cumulas, pereuntes negligis horas; + Incrementa aevi non cumulare potes. + + Br. 120. +Mater adulantum, prolesque, pecunia, curae, + Teque frui timer est, teque carere dolor. + + Br. 126. +Me miserum sors omnis habet; florentibus annis, + Pauper eram, nummis diffluit area senis; +Queis uti poteram quondam, fortuna negavit, + Queis uti nequeo, nunc mihi praebet, opes. + + Br. 127. +Mnemosyne, ut Sappho, mellita voce, canentem + Audiit, irata est, ne nova musa foret. + + Br. 152. +Cum tacet indoctus, sapientior esse videtur, + Et morbus tegitur, dum premit ora pudor. + + Br. 155. +Nunc huic, nunc aliis cedens, cui farra Menippus + Credit, Achaemenidae nuper agellus eram. +Quod nulli proprium versat fortuna, putabat + Ille suum stolidus, nunc putat ille suum. + + Br. 156. +Non fortuna sibi te gratum tollit in altum; + At docet, exemplo, vis sibi quanta, tuo. + + Br. 162. +Hic, aurum ut reperit, laqueum abjicit; alter ut aurum + Non reperit, nectit quem reperit, laqueum. + + Br. 167. +Vive tuo ex ammo: vario rumore loquetur + De te plebs audax, hic bene, et ille male. + + Br. 168. +Vitae rosa brevis est; properans si carpere nolis, + Quaerenti obveniet mox sine flore rubus. + + Br. 170. +Pulicibus morsus, restincta lampade, stultus + Exclamat: nunc me cernere desinitis. + + Br. 202, +Mendotum pinxit Diodorus, et exit imago, + Praeter Menodotura, nullius absimilis. + + Br. 205. +Haud lavit Phido, haud tetigit, mihi febre calenti + In mentem ut venit nominis, interii. + + Br. 210. +Nycticorax cantat lethale; sed ipsa, canenti + Demophilo auscultans, Nycticorax moritur. + + Br. 212. +Hermem deorum nuncium, pennis levem, +Quo rege gaudent Arcades, furem boum, +Hujus palestrae qui vigil custos stetit, +Clam nocte tollit Aulus, et ridens ait: +Praestat magistro saepe discipulus suo. + + Br. 223. +Qui jacet hic servus vixit: nunc, lumine cassus, + Dario magno non minus ille potest. + + Br. 227. +Funus Alexandri mentitur fama; fidesque + Si Phoebo, victor nescit obire diem. + + Br. 241. +Nauta, quis hoc jaceat, ne percontere, sepulchro, + Eveniat tantum mitior unda tibi! + + Br. 256. +Cur opulentus eges? tua cuncta in foenore ponis: + Sic aliis dives, tu tibi pauper agis. + + Br. 262. +Qui pascis barbam, si crescis mente, Platoni, + Hirce, parem nitido te tua barba facit. + + Br. 266. +Clarus Ioannes, reginae affinis, ab alto + Sanguine Anastasii; cuncta sepulta jacent: +Et pius, et recti cultor: non illa jacere + Dicam; stat virtus non subigenda neci. + + Br. 267. +Cunctiparens tellus, salve, levis esto pusillo + Lysigeni, fuerat non gravis ille tibi. + + Br. 285. +Naufragus hic jaceo; contra, jacet ecce colonus! + Idem orcus terras, sic, pelagoque subest. + + Br. 301. +Quid salvere jubes me, pessime? Corripe gressus; + Est mihi quod non te rideo, plena salus. + + Br. 304. +Et ferus est Timon sub terris; janitor orci, + Cerbere, te morsu ne petat ille, cave. + + Br. 307. +Vitam a terdecimo sextus mihi finiet annus, + Astra mathematicos si modo vera docent. +Sufficit hoc votis, flos hic pulcherrimus aevi est, + Et senium triplex Nestoris urna capit. + + Br. 322. +Zosima, quae solo fuit olim corpore serva, +Corpore nunc etiam libera facta fuit. + + Br. 326. +Exiguum en! Priami monumentum; hand ille meretur + Quale, sed hostiles, quale dedere manus. + + Br. 326. +Hector dat gladium Ajaci, dat balteum et Ajax + Hectori, et exitio munus utrique fuit. + + Br. 344. +Ut vis, ponte minax, modo tres discesseris ulnas + Ingemina fluctus, ingeminaque sonum. + + Br. 344. +Naufragus hic jaceo, fidens tamen utere velis; +Tutum aliis aequor, me pereunte, fuit. + + Br. 398. +Heraclitus ego; indoctae ne laedite liuguae + Subtile ingenium, quaero, capaxque mei; +Unus homo mihi pro soxcentis, turba popelli + Pro nullo, clamo nunc tumulatus idem. + + Br. 399. +Ambraciota, vale lux alma, Cleombrotus infit, + Et saltu e muro ditis opaca petit: +Triste nihil passus, animi at de sorte Platonis + Scripta legens, sola vivere mente cupit. + + Br. 399. +Servus, Epictetus, mutilato corpore, vixi, +Pauperieque Irus, curaque summa deum. + + Br. 445. +Unde hic Praxiteles? nudam vidistis, Adoni, + Et Pari, et Anchisa, non alius, Venerem. + + Br. 451. +Sufflato accendis quisquis carbone lucernam, + Corde meo accendens; ardeo totus ego. + + Br. 486. +Jupiter hoc templum, ut, siquando relinquit Olympum, + Atthide non alius desit Olympus, habet. + + Br. 487. +Civis et externus grati; domus hospita nescit + Quaerere, quis, cujus, quis pater, unde venis. + +POMPEII. + + Br. 487. +Cum fugere haud possit, fractis victoria pennis + Te manet, imperii, Roma, perenne decus. + + Br. 488. +Latrones, alibi locupletum quaerite tecta, + Assidet huic, custos, strenua pauperies. + +Fortunae malim adversae tolerare procellas; + Quam domini ingentis ferre supercilium. + +En, Sexto, Sexti meditatur imago, silente; + Orator statua est, statuaeque orator imago. + +Pulchra est virgiuitas intacta, at vita periret, + Omnes si vellent virginitate frui; +Nequitiam fugiens, servata contrahe lege + Conjugium, ut pro te des hominem patriae. + +Fert humeris, venerabile onus, Cythereius heros + Per Trojae flammas, densaque tela, patrem: +Clamat et Argivis, vetuli, ne tangite; vita + Exiguum est Marti, sed mihi grande, lucrum. + +Forma animos hominum capit, at, si gratia desit, + Non tenet; esca natat pulchra, sed hamus abest, + +Cogitat aut loquitur nil vir, nil cogitat uxor, + Felici thalamo non, puto, rixa strepit. + +Buccina disjecit Thebarum moenia, struxit + Quae lyra, quam sibi non concinit harmonia! + +Mente senes olim juvenis, Faustine, premebas, + Nunc juvenum terres robore corda senex. +Laevum at utrumque decus, juveni quod praebuit olim + Turba senum, juvenes nunc tribuere seni. + +Exceptae hospitio, musae tribuere libellos + Herodoto, hospitii praemia, quaeque suum. + +Stella mea, observans stellas, dii me aethera faxint + Multis ut te oculis sim potis aspicere. + +Clara Cheroneae soboles, Plutarche, dicavit + Hanc statuam ingenio, Roma benigna, tuo. +Das bene collatos, quos Roma et Graecia jactat, + Ad divos, paribus passibus, ire duces; +Sed similem, Plutarche, tuae describere vitam + Non poteras, regio non tulit ulla parem. + +Dat tibi Pythagoram pictor; quod ni ipse tacere + Pythagoras mallet, vocem habuisset opus. + +Prolem Hippi, et sua qua meliorem secula nullum + Videre, Archidicen, haec tumulavit humus; +Quam, regum sobolem, nuptam, matrem, atque sororem + Fecerunt nulli sors titulique gravem. + +Cecropidis gravis hic ponor, Martique dicatus, + Quo tua signantur gesta, Philippe, lapis. +Spreta jacet Marathon, jacet et Salaminia laurus, + Omnia dum Macedum gloria et arma premunt. +Sint Demosthenica ut jurata cadavera voce, + Stabo illis qui sunt, quique fuere, gravis. + +Floribus in pratis, legi quos ipse, coronam + Contextam variis, do, Rhodoclea, tibi: +Hic anemone humet, confert narcissus odores + Cum violis; spirant lilia mista rosis. +His redimita comas, mores depone superbos, + Haec peritura nitent; tu peritura nites! + +Murem Asclepiades sub tecto ut vidit avarus, + Quid tibi, mus, mecum, dixit, amice, tibi? +Mus blandum ridens, respondit, pelle timorem: + Hic, bone vir, sedem, nori alimenta, peto. + +Saepe tuum in tumulum lacrymarum decidit imber, + Quem fundit blando junctus amore dolor; +Charus enim cunctis, tanquam, dum vita manebat, + Cuique esses natus, cuique sodalis, eras. +Heu quam dura preces sprevit, quam surda querelas + Parca, juventutem non miserata tuam! + +Arti ignis lucem tribui, tamen artis et ignis + Nunc ope, supplicii vivit imago mei. +Gratia nulla hominum mentes tenet, ista Promethei + Munera muneribus, si retulere fabri. + +Illa triumphatrix Graium consueta procorum + Ante suas agmen Lais habere fores, +Hoc Veneri speculum; nolo me cernere qualis + Sum nunc, nec possum cernere qualis eram. + +Crethida fabellas dulces garrire peritam + Prosequitur lacrymis filia moesta Sami: +Blandam lanifici sociam sine fine loquacem, + Quam tenet hic, cunctas quae manet, alta quies. + +Dicite, Causidici, gelido nunc marmore magni + Mugitum tumulus comprimit Amphiloci. + +Si forsan tumulum quo conditur Eumarus aufers, + Nil lucri facies; ossa habet et cinerem. + + +EPICTETI. + +Me, rex deorum, tuque, due, necessitas, +Quo, lege vestra, vita me feret mea. +Sequar libenter, sin reluctari velim, +Fiam scelestus, nec tamen minus sequar. + + +E THEOCRITO. + +Poeta, lector, hic quiescit Hipponax, +Si sis scelestus, praeteri, procul, marmor: +At te bonum si noris, et bonis natum, +Tutum hic sedile, et si placet, sopor tutus. + + +EUR. MED. 193--203. + +Non immerito culpanda venit +Proavum vecors insipientia, +Qui convivia, lautasque dapes, +Hilarare suis jussere modis +Cantum, vitae dulce levamen. +At nemo feras iras hominum +Domibus claris exitiales, +Voce aut fidibus pellere docuit; +Queis tamen aptam ferre medelam +Utile cunctis hoc opus esset; +Namque, ubi mensas onerant epulae, +Quorsum dulcis luxuria soni? +Sat laetitia sine subsidiis, +Pectora molli mulcet dubiae +Copia coenae. + + +[Greek:] +Tois Araes brotoloighos enhi ptolemoisi memaene, +Kahi toios Paphiaen plaesen eroti thean. + +The above is a version of a Latin epigram on the famous John duke of +Marlborough, by the abbe Salvini, which is as follows: + + Haud alio vultu fremuit Mars acer in armis: + Haud alio Cypriam percutit ore deam. + +The duke was, it seems, remarkably handsome in his person, to which the +second line has reference. + + +SEPTEM AETATES. + +Prima parit terras aetas; siccatque secunda; +Evocat Abramum dein tertia; quarta relinquit +Aegyptum; templo Solomonis quinta supersit; +Cyrum sexta timet; laetatur septima Christo. +[a]His Tempelmanni numeris descripseris orbem, +[b]Cum sex ceiituriis Judaeo millia septem. +Myrias[c] AEgypto cessit his septima pingui. +Myrias adsciscit sibi nonagesima septem +Imperium qua Turca[d] ferox exercet iniquum. + Undecies binas decadas et millia septem +Sortitur[e] Pelopis tellus quae nomine gaudet. + Myriadas decies septem numerare jubebit +Pastor Arabs: decies octo sibi Persa requirit. +Myriades sibi pulchra duas, duo millia poscit +Parthenope. [f]Novies vult tellus mille Sicana. +[g]Papa suo regit imperio ter millia quinque. +Cum sex centuriis numerat sex millia Tuscus[h]. +Centuria Ligures[i] augent duo millia quarta. +Centuriae octavam decadem addit Lucca[j] secundae. +Ut dicas, spatiis quam latis imperet orbi +[k]Russia, myriadas ter denas adde trecentis. +[l]Sardiniam cum sexcentis sex millia complent. + Cum sexagenis, dum plura recluserit aetas, +Myriadas ter mille homini dat terra[m] colendas. + Vult sibi vicenas millesima myrias addi, +Vicenis quinas, Asiam[n] metata celebrem. + Se quinquagenis octingentesima jungit +Myrias, ut menti pateat tota Africa[o] doctae. + Myriadas septem decies Europa[p] ducentis +Et quadragenis quoque ter tria millia jungit. + Myriadas denas dat, quinque et millia, sexque +Centurias, et tres decades Europa Britannis[q]. + Ter tria myriadi conjungit millia quartae, +Centuriae quartae decades quinque[r] Anglia nectit. + Millia myriadi septem foecunda secundae +Et quadragenis decades quinque addit Ierne[s]. + Quingentis quadragenis socialis adauget +Millia Belga[t] novem. + Ter sex centurias Hollandia jactat opima. +Undecimum Camber vult septem millibus addi. + +[a] To the above lines, (which are unfinished, and can, therefore, be + only offered as a fragment,) in the doctor's manuscript, are + prefixed the words "Geographia Metrica." As we are referred, in the + first of the verses, to Templeman, for having furnished the + numerical computations that are the subject of them, his work has + been, accordingly, consulted, the title of which is, a new Survey of + the Globe; and which professes to give an accurate mensuration of + all the empires, kingdoms, and other divisions thereof, in the + square miles that they respectively contain. On comparison of the + several numbers in these verses, with those set down by Templeman, + it appears that nearly half of them are precisely the same; the rest + are not quite so exactly done.--For the convenience of the reader, + it has been thought right to subjoin each number, as it stands in + Templeman's works, to that in Dr. Johnson's verses which refers to + it. +[b] In this first article that is versified, there is an accurate + conformity in Dr. Johnson's number to Templeman's; who sets down the + square miles of Palestine at 7,600. +[c] The square miles of Egypt are, in Templeman, 140,700. +[d] The whole Turkish empire, in Templeman, is computed at 960,057 + square miles. +[e] In the four following articles, the numbers in Templeman and in + Johnson's verses are alike.--We find, accordingly, the Morea, in + Templeman, to be set down at 7,220 square miles.--Arabia, at + 700,000.--Persia, at 800,000.--and Naples, at 22,000. +[f] Sicily, in Templeman, is put down at 9,400. +[g] The pope's dominions, at 14,868. +[h] Tuscany, at 6,640. +[i] Genoa, in Templeman, as in Johnson likewise, is set down at 2,400. +[j] Lucca, at 286. +[k] The Russian empire, in the 29th plate of Templeman, is set down at + 3,303,485 square miles. +[l] Sardinia, in Templeman, as likewise in Johnson, 6,600. +[m] The habitable world, in Templeman, is computed, in square miles, at + 30,666,806 square miles. +[n] Asia, at 10,257,487. +[o] Africa, at 8,506,208. +[p] Europe, at 2,749,349. +[q] The British dominions, at 105,634. +[r] England, as likewise in Johnson's expression of the number, at + 49,450. +[s] Ireland, at 27,457. +[t] In the three remaining instances, which make the whole that Dr. + Johnson appears to have rendered into Latin verse, we find the + numbers exactly agreeing with those of Templeman, who makes the + square miles of the United Provinces, 9540--of the province of + Holland, 1800--and of Wales, 7011. + + +TRANSLATION OF DRYDEN'S EPIGRAM ON MILTON. + +Quos laudat vates, Graecus, Romanus, et Anglus, + Tres tria temporibus secla dedere suis. + +Sublime ingenium Graecus; Romanus habebat + Carmen grande sonans; Anglus utrumque tulit. +Nil majus natura capit: clarare priores + Quae potuere duos tertius unus habet. + + +EPILOGUE TO THE CARMEN SAECULARE OF HORACE; +PERFORMED AT FREEMASONS' HALL. + +Quae fausta Romae dixit Horatius, +Haec fausta vobis dicimus, Angliae + Opes, triumphos, et subacti + Imperium pelagi precantes. + + Such strains as, mingled with the lyre, +Could Rome with future greatness fire, +Ye sons of England, deign to hear, +Nor think our wishes less sincere. + May ye the varied blessings share +Of plenteous peace and prosp'rous war; +And o'er the globe extend your reign, +Unbounded masters of the main! + + +TRANSLATION OF A WELSH EPITAPH (IN HERBERT'S +TRAVELS) ON PRINCE MADOCK. + +Inclytus hic haeres magni requiescit Oeni, + Confessas tantum mente, manuque, patrem; +Servilem tuti cultum contempsit agelli, +Et petiit terras, per freta longa, novas. + + + + +THE HISTORY +OF +RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. + + +PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS. + +The following incomparable tale was published in 1759; and the +early familiarity with eastern manners, which Johnson derived +from his translation of father Lobo's travels into Abissinia, may +be presumed to have led him to fix his opening scene in that +country; while Rassela Christos, the general of sultan Sequed, +mentioned in that work, may have suggested the name of his +speculative prince. Rasselas was written in the evenings of a +single week, and sent to the press, in portions, with the amiable +view of defraying the funeral expenses of the author's aged +mother, and discharging her few remaining debts. The sum, +however, which he received for it, does not seem large, to those +who know its subsequent popularity. None of his works has +been more widely circulated; and the admiration, which it has +attracted, in almost every country of Europe, proves, that, with +all its depression and sadness, it does utter a voice, that meets +with an assenting answer in the hearts of all who have tried life, +and found its emptiness. Johnson's view of our lot on earth was +always gloomy, and the circumstances, under which Rasselas was +composed, were calculated to add a deepened tinge of melancholy +to its speculations on human folly, misery, or malignity. Many +of the subjects discussed, are known to have been those which +had agitated Johnson's mind. Among them is the question, +whether the departed ever revisit the places that knew them +on earth, and how far they may take an interest in the welfare +of those, over whom they watched, when here. We shall elsewhere +have to contemplate the moralist, standing on the border +of his mother's grave, and asking, with anxious agony, whether +that dark bourn, once passed, terminated for ever the cares of +maternity and love[a]. The frivolous and the proud, who think +not, or acknowledge not, that there are secrets, in both matter +and mind, of which their philosophy has not dreamed, may smile +at what they may, in their derision, term such weak and idle +inquiries. But on them, the most powerful minds that ever +illuminated this world, have fastened, with an intense curiosity; +and, owning their fears, or their ignorance, have not dared to +disavow their belief[b]. + +It is not to be denied, that Rasselas displays life, as one unvaried +series of disappointments, and leaves the mind, at its +close, in painful depression. This effect has been considered an +evil, and regarded even as similar to that produced by the doctrines +of Voltaire, Bolingbroke, and Rousseau, who combined +every thing venerable on earth with ridicule, treated virtue and +vice, with equal contemptuous indifference, and laid bare, with +cruel mockery, the vanity of all mortal wishes, prospects, and +pursuits. Their motive, for all this, we need not pause, in this +place, to examine. But a distinction may be made between the +melancholy of the heart, and the melancholy of the mind: while +the latter is sceptical, sour, and misanthropic, the former is +passionate, tender, and religious. Those who are under the influence +of the one, become inactive, morose, or heedless: detecting +the follies of the wisest and the frailties of the best, they scoff at +the very name of virtue; they spurn, as visionary and weak, every +attempt to meliorate man's condition, and from their conviction +of the earthward tendency of his mind, they bound his destinies +by this narrow world and its concerns. But those whose hearts +are penetrated with a feeling for human infirmity and sorrow, +are benevolent and active; considering man, as the victim of sin, +and woe, and death, for a cause which reason cannot unfold, but +which religion promises to terminate, they sooth the short-lived +disappointments of life, by pointing to a loftier and more lasting +state. Candide is the book of the one party, Rasselas of the +other. They appeared nearly together; they exhibit the same +picture of change, and misery, and crime. But the one demoralized +a continent, and gave birth to lust, and rapine, and +bloodshed; the other has blessed many a heart, and gladdened +the vale of sorrow, with many a rill of pure and living water. +Voltaire may be likened to the venomous toad of eastern allegory, +which extracts a deadly poison from that sunbeam which +bears health, and light, and life to all beside: the philosopher, +in Rasselas, like some holy and aged man, who has well nigh run +his course, in recounting the toils and perils of his pilgrimage, +may sadden the young heart, and crush the fond hopes of inexperience; +but, while he wounds, he presents the antidote and the +balm, and tells, where promises will be realized, and hopes will +no more be disappointed. We have ventured to detain our +readers thus long from Rasselas itself, because, from its similar +view of life with the sceptical school, many well-intentioned men +have apprehended, its effects might be the same. We have, +therefore, attempted briefly to distinguish the sources whence +these different writings have issued, and, we trust, we have +pointed out their remoteness from each other. And we do not +dwell on the subject, at greater length, because Johnson's writings, +in various parts, will require our attention on this particular head. +To be restless and weary of the dull details and incomplete enjoyments +of life, is common to all lofty minds. Frederick of +Prussia sought, in the bosom of a cold philosophy, to chill every +generous impulse, and each warm aspiration after immortality; +but he painfully felt, how inefficient was grandeur, or power, to +fill the heart, and plaintively exclaimed to Maupertuis, "Que +notre vie est peu de chose;" all is vanity. The philosophy of +Rasselas, however, though it pronounces on the unsatisfactory +nature of all human enjoyments, and though its perusal may +check the worldling in his mirth, and bring down the mighty +in his pride, does not, with the philosophic conqueror, sullenly +despair, but gently sooths the mourner, by the prospect of a final +recompense and repose. Its pages inculcate the same lesson, as +those of the Rambler, but "the precept, which is tedious in a +formal essay, may acquire attractions in a tale, and the sober +charms of truth be divested of their austerity by the graces of +innocent fiction[c]." We may observe, in conclusion, that the +abrupt termination of Rasselas, so left, according to sir John +Hawkins, by its author, to admit of continuation, and its unbroken +gloom, induced Miss E. Cornelia Knight to present to +the public a tale, entitled Dinarbas, to exhibit the fairer view of +life. + +FOOTNOTES +[a] See Idler, No. 41, and his letter to Mr. Elphinstone, on the death + of his mother. +[b] Aristot. Ethic. Nich. lib. i. c. 10, 11. In Barrow's sermon on the + "the least credulous or fanciful of men." +[c] See Drake's Speculator, 1790, No. 1. + +THE HISTORY + +OF + +RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. + + + +CHAP. I. + +DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY. + +Ye, who listen, with credulity, to the whispers of fancy, and pursue, +with eagerness, the phantoms of hope; who expect, that age will perform +the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will +be supplied by the morrow; attend to the history of Rasselas, prince of +Abissinia. + +Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty emperour, in whose dominions +the father of waters begins his course; whose bounty pours down the +streams of plenty, and scatters over half the world the harvests of +Egypt. + +According to the custom, which has descended, from age to age, among the +monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private palace, +with the other sons and daughters of Abissinian royalty, till the order +of succession should call him to the throne. + +The place, which the wisdom, or policy, of antiquity had destined for +the residence of the Abissinan princes, was a spacious valley in the +kingdom of Amhara, surrounded, on every side, by mountains, of which the +summits overhang the middle part. The only passage, by which it could be +entered, was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it has been +long disputed, whether it was the work of nature, or of human industry. +The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth, +which opened into the valley, was closed with gates of iron, forged by +the artificers of ancient days, so massy, that no man could, without the +help of engines, open or shut them. + +From the mountains, on every side, rivulets descended, that filled all +the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middle, +inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl, whom +nature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged its +superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain, +on the northern side, and fell, with dreadful noise, from precipice to +precipice, till it was heard no more. + +The sides of the mountains were covered with trees; the banks of the +brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from the +rocks; and every month dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals that +bite the grass, or browse the shrub, whether wild or tame, wandered in +this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey, by the mountains +which confined them. On one part, were flocks and herds feeding in the +pastures; on another, all the beasts of chase frisking in the lawns; the +sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking in +the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in the shade. All the +diversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of nature +were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded. + +The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with the +necessaries of life; and all delights and superfluities were added, at +the annual visit which the emperour paid his children, when the iron +gate was opened to the sound of musick; and during eight days every one, +that resided in the valley, was required to propose whatever might +contribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of +attention, and lessen the tediousness of time. Every desire was +immediately granted. All the artificers of pleasure were called to +gladden the festivity; the musicians exerted the power of harmony, and +the dancers showed their activity before the princes, in hope that they +should pass their lives in this blissful captivity, to which those only +were admitted, whose performance was thought able to add novelty to +luxury. Such was the appearance of security and delight, which this +retirement afforded, that they, to whom it was new, always desired, that +it might be perpetual; and, as those, on whom the iron gate had once +closed, were never suffered to return, the effect of long experience +could not be known. Thus every year produced new schemes of delight, and +new competitors for imprisonment. + +The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above the +surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares or courts, built +with greater or less magnificence, according to the rank of those for +whom they were designed. The roofs were turned into arches of massy +stone, joined by a cement that grew harder by time, and the building +stood, from century to century, deriding the solstitial rains and +equinoctial hurricanes, without need of reparation. + +This house, which was so large, as to be fully known to none, but some +ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of the place, +was built, as if suspicion herself had dictated the plan. To every room +there was an open and secret passage, every square had a communication +with the rest, either from the upper stories, by private galleries, or, +by subterranean passages, from the lower apartments. Many of the columns +had unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had reposited +their treasures. They then closed up the opening with marble, which was +never to be removed, but in the utmost exigencies of the kingdom; and +recorded their accumulations in a book, which was itself concealed in a +tower not entered, but by the emperour, attended by the prince, who +stood next in succession. + + + +CHAP. II. + +THE DISCONTENT OP RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY. + +Here the sons and daughters of Abissinia, lived only to know the soft +vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful +to delight, and gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy. They +wandered in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of +security. Every art was practised, to make them pleased with their own +condition. The sages, who instructed them, told them of nothing but the +miseries of publick life, and described all beyond the mountains, as +regions of calamity, where discord was always raging, and where man +preyed upon man. + +To heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were daily +entertained with songs, the subject of which was the happy valley. Their +appetites were excited, by frequent enumerations of different +enjoyments, and revelry and merriment was the business of every hour, +from the dawn of morning, to the close of even. + +These methods were, generally, successful; few of the princes had ever +wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full +conviction, that they had all within their reach that art or nature +could bestow, and pitied those, whom fate had excluded from this seat of +tranquillity, as the sport of chance, and the slaves of misery. + +Thus, they rose in the morning, and lay down at night, pleased with each +other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the twenty-sixth +year of his age, began to withdraw himself from their pastimes and +assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks, and silent meditation. He +often sat before tables, covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the +dainties that were placed before him: he rose abruptly in the midst of +the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of musick. His attendants +observed the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure: he +neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day +after day, on the banks of rivulets, sheltered with trees; where he +sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed the +fish playing in the stream, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures and +mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the herbage, +and some sleeping among the bushes. + +This singularity of his humour made him much observed. One of the sages, +in whose conversation he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, +in hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet. Rasselas, who knew not +that any one was near him, having, for some time, fixed his eyes upon +the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their +condition with his own. "What," said he, "makes the difference between +man and all the rest of the animal creation? Every beast, that strays +beside me, has the same corporal necessities with myself: he is hungry, +and crops the grass, he is thirsty and drinks the stream, his thirst and +hunger are appeased, he is satisfied and sleeps: he rises again and is +hungry, he is again fed, and is at rest. I am hungry and thirsty, like +him, but when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest; I am, like him, +pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied with fulness. The +intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; I long again to be hungry, +that I may again quicken my attention. The birds peck the berries, or +the corn, and fly away to the groves, where they sit, in seeming +happiness, on the branches, and waste their lives in tuning one unvaried +series of sounds. I, likewise, can call the lutanist and the singer, but +the sounds, that pleased me yesterday, weary me to-day, and will grow +yet more wearisome to-morrow. I can discover within me no power of +perception, which is not glutted with its proper pleasure, yet I do not +feel myself delighted. Man surely has some latent sense, for which this +place affords no gratification; or he has some desires, distinct from +sense, which must be satisfied, before he can be happy." + +After this, he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising, walked +towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and saw the animals +around him, "Ye," said he, "are happy, and need not envy me, that walk +thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envy +your felicity; for it is not the felicity of man. I have many +distresses, from which ye are free; I fear pain, when I do not feel it; +I sometimes shrink at evils recollected, and sometimes start at evils +anticipated: surely the equity of providence has balanced peculiar +sufferings with peculiar enjoyments." + +With observations like these, the prince amused himself, as he returned, +uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look, that discovered +him to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and to receive +some solace of the miseries of life, from consciousness of the delicacy +with which he felt, and the eloquence with which he bewailed them. He +mingled, cheerfully, in the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced +to find, that his heart was lightened. + + + +CHAP. III. + +THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING. + +On the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made +himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it by +counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which the +prince, having long considered him, as one whose intellects were +exhausted, was not very willing to afford: "Why," said he, "does this +man thus obtrude upon me? shall I be never suffered to forget those +lectures, which pleased, only while they were new, and to become new +again, must be forgotten?" He then walked into the wood, and composed +himself to his usual meditations, when, before his thoughts had taken +any settled form, he perceived his pursuer at his side, and was, at +first, prompted, by his impatience, to go hastily away; but, being +unwilling to offend a man, whom he had once reverenced, and still loved, +he invited him to sit down with him on the bank. + +The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change, which had been +lately observed in the prince, and to inquire, why he so often retired +from the pleasures of the palace, to loneliness and silence. "I fly from +pleasure," said the prince, "because pleasure has ceased to please; I am +lonely, because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud, with my +presence, the happiness of others." + +"You, sir," said the sage, "are the first who has complained of misery +in the happy valley. I hope to convince you, that your complaints have +no real cause. You are here in full possession of all that the emperour +of Abissinia can bestow; here is neither labour to be endured, nor +danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger can procure +or purchase. Look round, and tell me which of your wants is without +supply: if you want nothing, how are you unhappy?" + +"That I want nothing," said the prince, "or that I know not what I want, +is the cause of my complaint; if I had any known want, I should have a +certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I should not then +repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the western mountain, or +lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from +myself. When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another, I fancy, +that. I should be happy, if I had something to pursue. But, possessing +all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, +except that the latter is still more tedious than the former. Let your +experience inform me, how the day may now seem as short as in my +childhood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I +never had observed before. I have already enjoyed too much; give me +something to desire." + +The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew +not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. "Sir," said he, "if +you had seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to value your +present state." "Now," said the prince, "you have given me something to +desire; I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight +of them is necessary to happiness." + + + +CHAP. IV. + +THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE. + +At this time the sound of musick proclaimed the hour of repast, and the +conversation was concluded. The old man went away, sufficiently +discontented, to find that his reasonings had produced the only +conclusion which they were intended to prevent. But, in the decline of +life, shame and grief are of short duration; whether it be, that we bear +easily what we have borne long, or that, finding ourselves in age less +regarded, we less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon +afflictions, to which we know that the hand of death is about to put an +end. + +The prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not +speedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the length +of life which nature promised him, because he considered, that in a long +time much must be endured; he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many +years much might be done. + +This first beam of hope, that had been ever darted into his mind, +rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled the lustre of his eyes. He +was fired with the desire of doing something, though he knew not yet, +with distinctness, either end or means. + +He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but, considering himself as +master of a secret stock of happiness, which he could enjoy only by +concealing it, he affected to be busy in all schemes of diversion, and +endeavoured to make others pleased with the state, of which he himself +was weary. But pleasures never can be so multiplied or continued, as not +to leave much of life unemployed; there were many hours, both of the +night and day, which he could spend, without suspicion, in solitary +thought. The load of life was much lightened: he went eagerly into the +assemblies, because he supposed the frequency of his presence necessary +to the success of his purposes; he retired gladly to privacy, because he +had now a subject of thought. + +His chief amusement was to picture to himself that world which he had +never seen; to place himself in various conditions; to be entangled in +imaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures: but his +benevolence always terminated his projects in the relief of distress, +the detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of +happiness. + +Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied himself so +intensely in visionary bustle, that he forgot his real solitude, and, +amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents of human affairs, +neglected to consider, by what means he should mingle with mankind. + +One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphan +virgin, robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and crying +after him, for restitution and redress. So strongly was the image +impressed upon his mind, that he started up in the maid's defence, and +ran forward to seize the plunderer, with all the eagerness of real +pursuit. Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt: Rasselas could not +catch the fugitive with his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary, by +perseverance, him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on till +the foot of the mountain stopped his course. + +Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless impetuosity. +Then, raising his eyes to the mountain, "This," said he, "is the fatal +obstacle that hinders, at once, the enjoyment of pleasure, and the +exercise of virtue. How long is it that my hopes and wishes have flown +beyond this boundary of my life, which, yet, I never have attempted to +surmount!" + +Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse; and remembered, that, +since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the sun had +passed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a degree of +regret, with which he had never been before acquainted. He considered, +how much might have been done in the time which had passed, and left +nothing real behind it. He compared twenty months with the life of man. +"In life," said he, "is not to be counted the ignorance of infancy, or +imbecility of age. We are long, before we are able to think, and we soon +cease from the power of acting. The true period of human existence may +be reasonably estimated at forty years, of which I have mused away the +four and twentieth part. What I have lost was certain, for I have +certainly possessed it; but of twenty months to come, who can assure +me?" + +The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he was long +before he could be reconciled to himself. "The rest of my time," said +he, "has been lost, by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the +absurd institutions of my country; I remember it with disgust, yet +without remorse: but the months that have passed, since new light darted +into my soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable felicity, have been +squandered by my own fault. I have lost that which can never be +restored: I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty months, an idle +gazer on the light of heaven: in this time, the birds have left the nest +of their mother, and committed themselves to the woods and to the skies: +the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned, by degrees, to climb the +rocks, in quest of independent sustenance. I only have made no advances, +but am still helpless and ignorant. The moon, by more than twenty +changes, admonished me of the flux of life; the stream, that rolled +before my feet, upbraided my inactivity. I sat feasting on intellectual +luxury, regardless alike of the examples of the earth, and the +instructions of the planets. Twenty months are passed; who shall restore +them?" + +These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed four +months, in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was +awakened to more vigorous exertion, by hearing a maid, who had broken a +porcelain cup, remark, that what cannot be repaired is not to be +regretted. + +This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself, that he had not +discovered it, having not known, or not considered, how many useful +hints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by her own +ardour to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open before her. +He, for a few hours, regretted his regret, and from that time bent his +whole mind upon the means of escaping from the valley of happiness. + + + +CHAP. V. + +THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE. + +He now found, that it would be very difficult to effect that which it +was very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about him, he +saw himself confined by the bars of nature, which had never yet been +broken, and by the gate, through which none, that once had passed it, +were ever able to return. He was now impatient as an eagle in a grate. +He passed week after week in clambering the mountains, to see if there +was any aperture which the bushes might conceal, but found all the +summits inaccessible by their prominence. The iron gate he despaired to +open; for it was not only secured with all the power of art, but was +always watched by successive sentinels, and was, by its position, +exposed to the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants. + +He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake were +discharged; and, looking down, at a time when the sun shone strongly +upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks, which, +though they permitted the stream to flow through many narrow passages, +would stop any body of solid bulk. He returned discouraged and dejected; +but, having now known the blessing of hope, resolved never to despair. + +In these fruitless searches he spent ten months. The time, however, +passed cheerfully away: in the morning he rose with new hope, in the +evening applauded his own diligence, and in the night slept sound after +his fatigue. He met a thousand amusements, which beguiled his labour, +and diversified his thoughts. He discerned the various instincts of +animals, and properties of plants, and found the place replete with +wonders, of which he purposed to solace himself with the contemplation, +if he should never be able to accomplish his flight; rejoicing that his +endeavours, though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source of +inexhaustible inquiry. + +But his original curiosity was not yet abated; he resolved to obtain +some knowledge of the ways of men. His wish still continued, but his +hope grew less. He ceased to survey any longer the walls of his prison, +and spared to search, by new toils, for interstices which he knew could +not be found; yet determined to keep his design always in view, and lay +hold on any expedient that time should offer. + + + +CHAP. VI. + +A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING. + +Among the artists that had been allured into the happy valley, to labour +for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a man eminent +for his knowledge of the mechanick powers, who had contrived many +engines, both of use and recreation. By a wheel, which the stream +turned, he forced the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to +all the apartments of the palace. He erected a pavilion in the garden, +around which he kept the air always cool by artificial showers. One of +the groves, appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to which +the rivulet, that ran through it, gave a constant motion; and +instruments of soft musick were placed at proper distances, of which +some played by the impulse of the wind, and some by the power of the +stream. + +This artist was, sometimes, visited by Rasselas, who was pleased with +every kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come, when all +his acquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He came one +day to amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the master busy in +building a sailing chariot: he saw that the design was practicable upon +a level surface, and, with expressions of great esteem, solicited its +completion. The workman was pleased to find himself so much regarded by +the prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honours. "Sir," said he, +"you have seen but a small part of what the mechanick sciences can +perform. I have been long of opinion, that instead of the tardy +conveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration of +wings; that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and that only +ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground." + +This hint rekindled the prince's desire of passing the mountains: having +seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was willing to fancy +that he could do more; yet resolved to inquire further, before he +suffered hope to afflict him by disappointment. "I am afraid," said he +to the artist, "that your imagination prevails over your skill, and that +you now tell me rather what you wish, than what you know. Every animal +has his element assigned him: the birds have the air, and man and beasts +the earth."--"So," replied the mechanist, "fishes have the water, in +which, yet, beasts can swim by nature, and men by art. He that can swim +needs not despair to fly: to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to +fly is to swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of +resistance to the different density of matter through which we are to +pass. You will be, necessarily, upborne by the air, if you can renew any +impulse upon it, faster than the air can recede from the pressure." + +"But the exercise of swimming," said the prince, "is very laborious; the +strongest limbs are soon wearied; I am afraid, the act of flying will be +yet more violent, and wings will be of no great use, unless we can fly +further than we can swim." + +"The labour of rising from the ground," said the artist, "will be great, +as we see it in the heavier domestick fowls; but as we mount higher, the +earth's attraction, and the body's gravity, will be gradually +diminished, till we shall arrive at a region, where the man will float +in the air without any tendency to fall; no care will then be necessary +but to move forwards, which the gentlest impulse will effect. You, sir, +whose curiosity is so extensive, will easily conceive with what pleasure +a philosopher, furnished with wings, and hovering in the sky, would see +the earth, and all its inhabitants, rolling beneath him, and presenting +to him, successively, by its diurnal motion, all the countries within +the same parallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the +moving scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts! To survey, with +equal security, the marts of trade, and the fields of battle; mountains +infested by barbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by plenty, and +lulled by peace! How easily shall we then trace the Nile through all its +passage; pass over to distant regions, and examine the face of nature, +from one extremity of the earth to the other!" + +"All this," said the prince, "is much to be desired; but I am afraid, +that no man will be able to breathe in these regions of speculation and +tranquillity. I have been told, that respiration is difficult upon lofty +mountains, yet, from these precipices, though so high as to produce +great tenuity of air, it is very easy to fall; therefore, I suspect, +that from any height, where life can be supported, there may be danger +of too quick descent." + +"Nothing," replied the artist, "will ever be attempted, if all possible +objections must be first overcome. If you will favour my project, I will +try the first flight at my own hazard. I have considered the structure +of all volant animals, and find the folding continuity of the bat's +wings most easily accommodated to the human form. Upon this model, I +shall begin my task tomorrow, and in a year, expect to tower into the +air beyond the malice and pursuit of man. But I will work only on this +condition, that the art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not +require me to make wings for any but ourselves." + +"Why," said Rasselas, "should you envy others so great an advantage? All +skill ought to be exerted for universal good; every man has owed much to +others, and ought to repay the kindness that he has received." + +"If men were all virtuous," returned the artist, "I should, with great +alacrity, teach them all to fly. But what would be the security of the +good, if the bad could, at pleasure, invade them from the sky? Against +an army sailing through the clouds, neither walls, nor mountains, nor +seas, could afford any security. A flight of northern savages might +hover in the wind, and light, at once, with irresistible violence, upon +the capital of a fruitful region, that was rolling under them. Even this +valley, the retreat of princes, the abode of happiness, might be +violated by the sudden descent of some of the naked nations, that swarm +on the coast of the southern sea." + +The prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, not wholly +hopeless of success. He visited the work, from time to time, observed +its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances, to facilitate +motion, and unite levity with strength. The artist was every day more +certain, that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and the +contagion of his confidence seized upon the prince. + +In a year the wings were finished, and, on a morning appointed, the +maker appeared, furnished for flight, on a little promontory: he waved +his pinions awhile, to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and, in +an instant, dropped into the lake. His wings, which were of no use in +the air, sustained him in the water, and the prince drew him to land, +half dead with terrour and vexation.[a] + +[a] See Rambler, No. 199, and note. + +CHAP. VII. + +THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING. + +The prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having suffered +himself to hope for a happier event, only because he had no other means +of escape in view. He still persisted in his design to leave the happy +valley by the first opportunity. + +His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of entering into +the world; and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to support himself, +discontent, by degrees, preyed upon him, and he began again to lose his +thoughts in sadness, when the rainy season, which, in these countries, +is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods. + +The rain continued longer, and with more violence, than had been ever +known: the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the torrents +streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow to +discharge the water. The lake overflowed its banks, and all the level of +the valley was covered with the inundation. The eminence, on which the +palace was built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that +the eye could now discover. The herds and flocks left the pastures, and +both the wild beasts and the tame retreated to the mountains. + +This inundation confined all the princes to domestick amusements, and +the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem, which Imlac +rehearsed, upon the various conditions of humanity. He commanded the +poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his verses a second +time; then entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in +having found a man who knew the world so well, and could so skilfully +paint the scenes of life. He asked a thousand questions about things, to +which, though common to all other mortals, his confinement, from +childhood, had kept him a stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance, and +loved his curiosity, and entertained him, from day to day, with novelty +and instruction, so that the prince regretted the necessity of sleep, +and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure. + +As they were sitting together, the prince commanded Imlac to relate his +history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what motive +induced, to close his life in the happy valley. As he was going to begin +his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and obliged to restrain +his curiosity till the evening. + +CHAP. VIII. + +THE HISTORY OF IMLAC. + +The close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the only +season of diversion and entertainment, and it was, therefore, midnight +before the musick ceased, and the princesses retired. Rasselas then +called for his companion, and required him to begin the story of his +life. + +"Sir," said Imlac, "my history will not be long; the life, that is +devoted to knowledge, passes silently away, and is very little +diversified by events. To talk in publick, to think in solitude, to read +and hear, to inquire, and answer inquiries, is the business of a +scholar. He wanders about the world without pomp or terrour, and is +neither known nor valued but by men like himself. + +"I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from the +fountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who traded +between the inland countries of Africk and the ports of the Red sea. He +was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments, and narrow +comprehension; he desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches, +lest he should be spoiled by the governours of the province." + +"Surely," said the prince, "my father must be negligent of his charge, +if any man, in his dominions, dares take that which belongs to another. +Does he not know, that kings are accountable for injustice permitted, as +well as done? If I were emperour, not the meanest of my subjects should +be oppressed with impunity. My blood boils, when I am told that a +merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains, for fear of losing them by +the rapacity of power. Name the governour, who robbed the people, that I +may declare his crimes to the emperour." + +"Sir," said Imlac, "your ardour is the natural effect of virtue animated +by youth: the time will come, when you will acquit your father, and, +perhaps, hear with less impatience of the governour. Oppression is, in +the Abissinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated; but no form of +government has been yet discovered, by which cruelty can be wholly +prevented. Subordination supposes power on one part, and subjection on +the other; and if power be in the hands of men, it will, sometimes, be +abused. The vigilance of the supreme magistrate may do much, but much +will still remain undone. He can never know all the crimes that are +committed, and can seldom punish all that he knows." + +"This," said the prince, "I do not understand, but I had rather hear +thee than dispute. Continue thy narration." + +"My father," proceeded Imlac, "originally intended that I should have no +other education, than such as might qualify me for commerce; and, +discovering in me great strength of memory, and quickness of +apprehension, often declared his hope, that I should be, some time, the +richest man in Abissinia." + +"Why," said the prince, "did thy father desire the increase of his +wealth, when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy? I +am unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot both be +true." + +"Inconsistencies," answered Imlac, "cannot both be right, but, imputed +to man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is not inconsistency. My +father might expect a time of greater security. However, some desire is +necessary to keep life in motion, and he, whose real wants are supplied, +must admit those of fancy." + +"This," said the prince, "I can, in some measure, conceive. I repent +that I interrupted thee." + +"With this hope," proceeded Imlac, "he sent me to school; but when I had +once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure of +intelligence and the pride of invention, I began, silently, to despise +riches, and determined to disappoint the purpose of my father, whose +grossness of conception raised my pity. I was twenty years old before +his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel, in which time I +had been instructed, by successive masters, in all the literature of my +native country. As every hour taught me something new, I lived in a +continual course of gratifications; but, as I advanced towards manhood, +I lost much of the reverence with which I had been used to look on my +instructers; because, when the lesson was ended, I did not find them +wiser or better than common men. + +"At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce, and, opening +one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousand pieces of +gold. This, young man, said he, is the stock with which you must +negotiate. I began with less than the fifth part, and you see how +diligence and parsimony have increased it. This is your own, to waste or +to improve. If you squander it by negligence or caprice, you must wait +for my death, before you will be rich: if, in four years, you double +your stock, we will thenceforward let subordination cease, and live +together as friends and partners; for he shall always be equal with me, +who is equally skilled in the art of growing rich. + +"We laid our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap goods, and +travelled to the shore of the Red sea. When I cast my eye on the expanse +of waters, my heart bounded like that of a prisoner escaped. I felt an +unextinguishable curiosity kindle in my mind, and resolved to snatch +this opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and of learning +sciences unknown in Abissinia. + +"I remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement of my +stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by a penalty, +which I was at liberty to incur; and, therefore, determined to gratify +my predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountains of knowledge, +to quench the thirst of curiosity. + +"As I was supposed to trade without connexion with my father, it was +easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and procure +a passage to some other country. I had no motives of choice to regulate +my voyage; it was sufficient for me, that, wherever I wandered, I should +see a country, which I had not seen before. I, therefore, entered a ship +bound for Surat, having left a letter for my father, declaring my +intention. + +CHAP. IX. + +THE HISTORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED. + +"When I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight of land, +I looked round about me with pleasing terrour, and, thinking my soul +enlarged by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze round for +ever without satiety; but, in a short time, I grew weary of looking on +barren uniformity, where I could only see again what I had already seen. +I then descended into the ship, and doubted, for awhile, whether all my +future pleasures would not end like this, in disgust and disappointment. +Yet, surely, said I, the ocean and the land are very different; the only +variety of water is rest and motion, but the earth has mountains and +valleys, deserts and cities; it is inhabited by men of different customs +and contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life, though I +should miss it in nature. + +"With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself during the +voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of navigation, +which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for my +conduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been ever +placed. + +"I was almost weary of my naval amusements, when we landed safely at +Surat. I secured my money, and, purchasing some commodities for show, +joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland country. My +companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing that I was rich, and, +by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I was ignorant, considered +me as a novice, whom they had a right to cheat, and who was to learn, at +the usual expense, the art of fraud. They exposed me to the theft of +servants, and the exaction of officers, and saw me plundered, upon false +pretences, without any advantage to themselves, but that of rejoicing in +the superiority of their own knowledge." + +"Stop a moment," said the prince. "Is there such depravity in man, as +that he should injure another, without benefit to himself? I can easily +conceive, that all are pleased with superiority: but your ignorance was +merely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, could +afford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the knowledge which +they had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually have shown by +warning, as betraying you." + +"Pride," said Imlac, "is seldom delicate; it will please itself with +very mean advantages; and envy feels not its own happiness, but when it +may be compared with the misery of others. They were my enemies, because +they grieved to think me rich; and my oppressors, because they delighted +to find me weak." + +"Proceed," said the prince: "I do not doubt of the facts which you +relate, but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives." + +"In this company," said Imlac, "I arrived at Agra, the capital of +Indostan, the city in which the great mogul commonly resides. I applied +myself to the language of the country, and, in a few months, was able to +converse with the learned men; some of whom I found morose and reserved, +and others easy and communicative; some were unwilling to teach another +what they had, with difficulty, learned themselves; and some showed, +that the end of their studies was to gain the dignity of instructing. + +"To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much, that I +was presented to the emperour as a man of uncommon knowledge. The +emperour asked me many questions concerning my country and my travels; +and though I cannot now recollect any thing that he uttered above the +power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at his wisdom, and +enamoured of his goodness. + +"My credit was now so high, that the merchants, with whom I had +travelled, applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the court. +I was surprised at their confidence of solicitation, and gently +reproached them with their practices on the road. They heard me with +cold indifference, and showed no tokens of shame or sorrow. + +"They then urged their request with the offer of a bribe; but what I +would not do for kindness, I would not do for money; and refused them, +not because they had injured me, but because I would not enable them to +injure others; for I knew they would have made use of my credit to cheat +those who should buy their wares. + +"Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, I +travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence, +and observed many new accommodations of life. The Persians are a nation +eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities +of remarking characters and manners, and of tracing human nature through +all its variations. + +"From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation at once pastoral +and warlike; who live without any settled habitation; whose only wealth +is their flocks and herds; and who have yet carried on, through all +ages, an hereditary war with all mankind, though they neither covet nor +envy their possessions." + +CHAP. X. + +IMLAC'S HISTORY CONTINUED. A DISSERTATION UPON POETRY. + +"Wherever I went, I found that poetry was considered as the highest +learning, and regarded with a veneration, somewhat approaching to that +which man would pay to the angelick nature. And yet it fills me with +wonder, that, in almost all countries, the most ancient poets are +considered as the best: whether it be that every other kind of knowledge +is an acquisition gradually attained, and poetry is a gift conferred at +once; or that the first poetry of every nation surprised them as a +novelty, and retained the credit by consent, which it received by +accident at first: or whether, as the province of poetry is to describe +nature and passion, which are always the same, the first writers took +possession of the most striking objects for description, and the most +probable occurrences for fiction, and left nothing to those that +followed them, but transcription of the same events, and new +combinations of the same images. Whatever be the reason, it is commonly +observed, that the early writers are in possession of nature, and their +followers of art: that the first excel in strength and invention, and +the latter in elegance and refinement. + +"I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraternity. I read +all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat, by memory, +the volumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca. But I soon found, +that no man was ever great by imitation. My desire of excellence +impelled me to transfer my attention to nature and to life. Nature was +to be my subject, and men to be my auditors: I could never describe what +I had not seen; I could not hope to move those with delight or terrour, +whose interest and opinions I did not understand. + +"Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw every thing with a new purpose; +my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified: no kind of knowledge was +to be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts for images and +resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of the forest and +flower of the valley. I observed, with equal care, the crags of the rock +and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I wandered along the mazes of +the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summer clouds. To +a poet, nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever is +dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination: he must be conversant +with all that is awfully vast, or elegantly little. The plants of the +garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors +of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible +variety; for every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of +moral or religious truth; and he, who knows most, will have most power +of diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remote +allusions and unexpected instruction. + +"All the appearances of nature I was, therefore, careful to study, and +every country, which I have surveyed, has contributed something to my +poetical powers." + +"In so wide a survey," said the prince, "you must surely have left much +unobserved. I have lived till now, within the circuit of these +mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of something, +which I had never beheld before, or never heeded." + +"The business of a poet," said Imlac, "is to examine, not the +individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large +appearances: he does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe +the different shades in the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit, in +his portraits of nature, such prominent and striking features, as recall +the original to every mind; and must neglect the minuter +discriminations, which one may have remarked, and another have +neglected, for those characteristicks which are alike obvious to +vigilance and carelessness. + +"But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet; he must be +acquainted, likewise, with all the modes of life. His character +requires, that he estimate the happiness and misery of every condition; +observe the power of all the passions in all their combinations, and +trace the changes of the human mind, as they are modified by various +institutions, and accidental influences of climate or custom, from the +sprightliness of infancy to the despondence of decrepitude. He must +divest himself of the prejudices of his age or country; he must consider +right and wrong in their abstracted and invariable state; he must +disregard present laws and opinions, and rise to general and +transcendental truths, which will always be the same; he must, +therefore, content himself with the slow progress of his name; contemn +the applause of his own time, and commit his claims to the justice of +posterity. He must write, as the interpreter of nature, and the +legislator of mankind, and consider himself, as presiding over the +thoughts and manners of future generations; as a being superiour to time +and place. + +"His labour is not yet at an end: he must know many languages and many +sciences; and, that his style may be worthy of his thoughts, must, by +incessant practice, familiarize to himself every delicacy of speech and +grace of harmony." + +CHAP. XI. + +IMLAC'S NARRATIVE CONTINUED. A HINT ON PILGRIMAGE. + +Imlac now felt the enthusiastick fit, and was proceeding to aggrandize +his own profession, when the prince cried out: "Enough! thou hast +convinced me, that no human being can ever be a poet. Proceed with thy +narration." + +"To be a poet," said Imlac, "is, indeed, very difficult." "So +difficult," returned the prince, "that I will, at present, hear no more +of his labours. Tell me whither you went, when you had seen Persia." + +"From Persia," said the poet, "I travelled through Syria, and for three +years resided in Palestine, where I conversed with great numbers of the +northern and western nations of Europe; the nations which are now in +possession of all power and all knowledge; whose armies are +irresistible, and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the globe. +When I compared these men with the natives of our own kingdom, and those +that surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings. In their +countries it is difficult to wish for any thing that may not be +obtained: a thousand arts, of which we never heard, are continually +labouring for their convenience and pleasure; and whatever their own +climate has denied them is supplied by their commerce." + +"By what means," said the prince, "are the Europeans thus powerful, or +why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa, for trade or +conquest, cannot the Asiaticks and Africans invade their coasts, plant +colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes? The +same wind that carries them back would bring us thither." + +"They are more powerful, sir, than we," answered Imlac, "because they +are wiser; knowledge will always predominate over ignorance, as man +governs the other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours, I +know not what reason can be given, but the unsearchable will of the +supreme being." + +"When," said the prince, with a sigh, "shall I be able to visit +Palestine, and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations? Till that +happy moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such +representations as thou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the motive +that assembles such numbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as +the centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best and wisest men of +every land must be continually resorting." + +"There are some nations," said Imlac, "that send few visitants to +Palestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe concur to +censure pilgrimage, as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous." + +"You know," said the prince, "how little my life has made me acquainted +with diversity of opinions; it will be too long to hear the arguments on +both sides; you, that have considered them, tell me the result." + +"Pilgrimage," said Imlac, "like many other acts of piety, may be +reasonable or superstitious, according to the principles upon which it +is performed. Long journeys, in search of truth, are not commanded. +Truth, such as is necessary to the regulation of life, is always found +where it is honestly sought. Change of place is no natural cause of the +increase of piety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of mind. Yet, +since men go every day to view the fields where great actions have been +performed, and return with stronger impressions of the event, curiosity +of the same kind may naturally dispose us to view that country whence +our religion had its beginning; and, I believe, no man surveys those +awful scenes without some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the +supreme being may be more easily propitiated in one place than in +another, is the dream of idle superstition; but that some places may +operate upon our own minds in an uncommon manner, is an opinion which +hourly experience will justify[a]. He who supposes that his vices may be +more successfully combated in Palestine, will, perhaps, find himself +mistaken, yet he may go thither without folly; he who thinks they will +be more freely pardoned, dishonours, at once, his reason and religion." + +"These," said the prince, "are European distinctions. I will consider +them another time. What have you found to be the effect of knowledge? +Are those nations happier than we?" + +"There is so much infelicity," said the poet, "in the world, that scarce +any man has leisure, from his own distresses, to estimate the +comparative happiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means +of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind +feels of increasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which +nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity, in which the soul sits +motionless and torpid, for want of attraction; and, without knowing why, +we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we forget. I am, +therefore, inclined to conclude, that, if nothing counteracts the +natural consequence of learning, we grow more happy, as our minds take a +wider range. + +"In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many +advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseases, +with which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies of weather, +which they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of many +laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There is such +communication between distant places, that one friend can hardly be said +to be absent from another. Their policy removes all publick +inconveniencies: they have roads cut through their mountains, and +bridges laid upon their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of +life, their habitations are more commodious, and their possessions are +more secure." + +"They are surely happy," said the prince, "who have all these +conveniencies, of which I envy none so much as the facility with which +separated friends interchange their thoughts." + +"The Europeans," answered Imlac, "are less unhappy than we, but they are +not happy. Human life is everywhere a state, in which much is to be +endured, and little to be enjoyed." + +[a] See Idler, No. 33, and note: and read, in Dr. Clarke's travels, the +effect produced on his mind by the distant prospect of the Holy +City, and by the habitual reverence of his guides. The passage +exemplifies the sublime in narrative. See his Travels in Greece, +Egypt, and the Holy Land, part ii. sect. i. 8vo. ed. vol. iv. p. +288.--Ed. + +CHAP. XII. + +THE STORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED. + +"I am not yet willing," said the prince, "to suppose, that happiness is +so parsimoniously distributed to mortals; nor can believe but that, if I +had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every day with +pleasure. I would injure no man, and should provoke no resentment: I +would relieve every distress, and should enjoy the benedictions of +gratitude. I would choose my friends among the wise, and my wife among +the virtuous; and, therefore, should be in no danger from treachery or +unkindness. My children should, by my care, be learned and pious, and +would repay to my age what their childhood had received. What would dare +to molest him, who might call, on every side, to thousands enriched by +his bounty, or assisted by his power? And why should not life glide +quietly away in the soft reciprocation of protection and reverence? All +this may be done without the help of European refinements, which appear, +by their effects, to be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them, +and pursue our journey." + +"From Palestine," said Imlac, "I passed through many regions of Asia; in +the more civilized kingdoms, as a trader, and among the barbarians of +the mountains, as a pilgrim. At last, I began to long for my native +country, that I might repose, after my travels and fatigues, in the +places where I had spent my earliest years, and gladden my old +companions, with the recital of my adventures. Often did I figure to +myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours of dawning life, +sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my tales, and listening to +my counsels. + +"When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered every +moment as wasted, which did not bring me nearer to Abissinia. I hastened +into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detained ten months +in the contemplation of its ancient magnificence, and in inquiries after +the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo a mixture of all +nations; some brought thither by the love of knowledge, some by the hope +of gain, and many by the desire of living, after their own manner, +without observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes: +for in a city, populous as Cairo, it is possible to obtain, at the same +time, the gratifications of society, and the secrecy of solitude. + +"From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red sea, passing +along the coast, till I arrived at the port from which I had departed +twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan, and reentered my +native country. + +"I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen, and the congratulations of +my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever value he +had set upon riches, would own, with gladness and pride, a son, who was +able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation. But I was soon +convinced that my thoughts were vain. My father had been dead fourteen +years, having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to +some other provinces. Of my companions, the greater part was in the +grave; of the rest, some could, with difficulty, remember me, and some +considered me, as one corrupted by foreign manners. + +"A man, used to vicissitudes, is not easily dejected. I forgot, after a +time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself to the +nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their tables, heard my story, +and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach. I then +resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestick life, and addressed a +lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit, because my +father was a merchant. + +"Wearied, at last, with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide +myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or +caprice of others. I waited for the time, when the gate of the happy +valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear: the day +came; my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned +myself with joy to perpetual confinement." + +"Hast thou here found happiness at last?" said Rasselas. "Tell me, +without reserve; art thou content with thy condition? or, dost thou wish +to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valley +celebrate their lot, and, at the annual visit of the emperour, invite +others to partake of their felicity." + +"Great prince," said Imlac, "I shall speak the truth; I know not one of +all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered this +retreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete +with images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure. I can amuse my +solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my +memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past life. Yet all +this ends in the sorrowful consideration, that my acquirements are now +useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest, +whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either +corroded by malignant passions, or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual +vacancy." + +"What passions can infest those," said the prince, "who have no rivals? +We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and where all envy +is repressed by community of enjoyments." + +"There may be community," said Imlac, "of material possessions, but +there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen, that +one will please more than another; he that knows himself despised will +always be envious; and still more envious and malevolent, if he is +condemned to live in the presence of those who despise him. The +invitations, by which they allure others to a state which they feel to +be wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. They +are weary of themselves, and of each other, and expect to find relief in +new companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited, +and would gladly see all mankind imprisoned like themselves. + +"From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that he is +wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who are +annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawful +for me to warn them of their danger." + +"My dear Imlac," said the prince, "I will open to thee my whole heart. I +have long meditated an escape from the happy valley. I have examined +the mountains on every side, but find myself insuperably barred: teach +me the way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of my flight, +the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my sole director +in the CHOICE OF LIFE." + +"Sir," answered the poet, "your escape will be difficult, and, perhaps, +you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure to +yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea +foaming with tempests, and boiling with whirlpools; you will be +sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed +against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions +and anxieties, you will wish, a thousand times, for these seats of +quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from fear." + +"Do not seek to deter me from my purpose," said the prince: "I am +impatient to see what thou hast seen; and, since thou art thyself weary +of the valley, it is evident that thy former state was better than this. +Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am resolved to judge, +with mine own eyes, of the various conditions of men, and then to make, +deliberately, my CHOICE OF LIFE. + +"I am afraid," said Imlac, "you are hindered by stronger restraints than +my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not counsel +you to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill." + +CHAP. XIII. + +RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE. + +The prince now dismissed his favourite to rest, but the narrative of +wonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation. He revolved all +that he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the morning. + +Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whom he could +impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him in his +designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with silent +vexation. He thought that even the happy valley might be endured, with +such a companion, and that, if they could range the world together, he +should have nothing further to desire. + +In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. The prince +and Imlac then walked out together, to converse, without the notice of +the rest. The prince, whose thoughts were always on the wing, as he +passed by the gate, said, with a countenance of sorrow, "Why art thou so +strong, and why is man so weak?" + +"Man is not weak," answered his companion; "knowledge is more than +equivalent to force. The master of mechanicks laughs at strength. I can +burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other expedient must be +tried." + +As they were walking on the side of the mountain, they observed that the +conies, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken shelter +among the bushes, and formed holes behind them, tending upwards, in an +oblique line. "It has been the opinion of antiquity," said Imlac, "that +human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of animals; let us, +therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning from the cony. We +may escape, by piercing the mountain in the same direction. We will +begin, where the summit hangs over the middle part, and labour upwards, +till we shall issue up beyond the prominence." + +The eyes of the prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with joy. +The execution was easy, and the success certain. + +No time was now lost. They hastened, early in the morning, to choose a +place proper for their mine. They clambered, with great fatigue, among +crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any part that +favoured their design. The second and the third day were spent in the +same manner, and with the same frustration. But, on the fourth, they +found a small cavern, concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to +make their experiment. + +Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth, and +they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness than vigour. +They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down to pant +upon the grass. The prince, for a moment, appeared to be discouraged. +"Sir," said his companion, "practice will enable us to continue our +labour for a longer time; mark, however, how far we have advanced, and +you will find, that our toil will sometime have an end. Great works are +performed, not by strength, but perseverance: yonder palace was raised +by single stones, yet you see its height and spaciousness. He that shall +walk with vigour three hours a day, will pass, in seven years, a space +equal to the circumference of the globe." + +They returned to their work day after day, and, in a short time, found a +fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little +obstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen. "Do not disturb +your mind," said Imlac, "with other hopes or fears than reason may +suggest; if you are pleased with prognosticks of good, you will be +terrified, likewise, with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a +prey to superstition. Whatever facilitates our work is more than an +omen, it is a cause of success. This is one of those pleasing surprises +which often happen to active resolution. Many tilings, difficult to +design, prove easy to performance." + +CHAP. XIV. + +RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT. + +They had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced their toil +with the approach of liberty, when the prince, coming down to refresh +himself with air, found his sister Nekayah, standing before the mouth of +the cavity. He started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his design, +yet hopeless to conceal it. A few moments determined him to repose on +her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration without reserve. + +"Do not imagine," said the princess, "that I came hither, as a spy: I +had long observed, from my window, that you and Imlac directed your walk +every day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you had any +better reason for the preference than a cooler shade, or more fragrant +bank; nor followed you with any other design than to partake of your +conversation. Since, then, not suspicion, but fondness, has detected +you, let me not lose the advantage of my discovery. I am equally weary +of confinement with yourself, and not less desirous of knowing what is +done or suffered in the world. Permit me to fly with you from this +tasteless tranquillity, which will yet grow more loathsome when you have +left me. You may deny me to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from +following." + +The prince, who loved Nekayah, above his other sisters, had no +inclination to refuse her request, and grieved, that he had lost an +opportunity of showing his confidence by a voluntary communication. It +was, therefore, agreed, that she should leave the valley with them; and +that, in the mean time, she should watch, lest any other straggler +should, by chance or curiosity, follow them to the mountain. + +At length their labour was at an end; they saw light beyond the +prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the Nile, +yet a narrow current, wandering beneath them. + +The prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures of +travel, and, in thought, was already transported beyond his father's +dominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectation +of pleasure in the world, which he had before tried, and of which he had +been weary. + +Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could not +soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed his sister, +that the way was open, and that nothing now remained but to prepare for +their departure. + +CHAP. XV. + +THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY WONDERS. + +The prince and princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich, +whenever they came into a place of commerce, which, by Imlac's +direction, they hid in their clothes, and, on the night of the next full +moon, all left the valley. The princess was followed only by a single +favourite, who did not know whither she was going. + +They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the other +side. The princess and her maid turned their eyes towards every part, +and, seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered themselves, as +in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They stopped and trembled. +"I am almost afraid," said the princess, "to begin a journey, of which I +cannot perceive an end, and to venture into this immense plain, where I +may be approached, on every side, by men whom I never saw." The prince +felt nearly the same emotions, though he thought it more manly to +conceal them. + +Imlac smiled at their terrours, and encouraged them to proceed; but the +princess continued irresolute, till she had been, imperceptibly, drawn +forward too far to return. + +In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set milk and +fruits before them. The princess wondered, that she did not see a palace +ready for her reception, and a table spread with delicacies; but, being +faint and hungry, she drank the milk, and eat the fruits, and thought +them of a higher flavour than the produce of the valley. + +They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed to toil +or difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed, they could +not be pursued. In a few days they came into a more populous region, +where Imlac was diverted with the admiration, which his companions +expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and employments. + +Their dress was such, as might not bring upon them the suspicion of +having any thing to conceal; yet the prince, wherever he came, expected +to be obeyed; and the princess was frightened, because those that came +into her presence did not prostrate themselves before her. Imlac was +forced to observe them with great vigilance, lest they should betray +their rank by their unusual behaviour, and detained them several weeks +in the first village, to accustom them to the sight of common mortals. + +By degrees, the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they had, +for a time, laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only such +regard, as liberality and courtesy could procure. And Imlac having, by +many admonitions, prepared them to endure the tumults of a port, and the +ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to the seacoast. + +The prince and his sister, to whom every thing was new, were gratified +equally at all places, and, therefore, remained, for some months, at the +port, without any inclination to pass further. Imlac was content with +their stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised +in the world, to the hazards of a foreign country. + +At last he began to fear, lest they should be discovered, and proposed +to fix a day for their departure. They had no pretensions to judge for +themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction. He, +therefore, took passage in a ship to Suez; and, when the time came, with +great difficulty, prevailed on the princess to enter the vessel. They +had a quick and prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land to +Cairo. + +CHAP. XVI. + +THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY. + +As they approached the city, which filled the strangers with +astonishment, "This," said Imlac to the prince, "is the place where +travellers and merchants assemble from all the corners of the earth. You +will here find men of every character, and every occupation. Commerce is +here honourable: I will act as a merchant, and you shall live as +strangers, who have no other end of travel than curiosity; it will soon +be observed that we are rich; our reputation will procure us access to +all whom we shall desire to know; you will see all the conditions of +humanity, and enable yourself, at leisure, to make your CHOICE OF LIFE." + +They now entered the town, stunned by the noise, and offended by the +crowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit, but that they +wondered to see themselves pass, undistinguished, along the street, and +met, by the lowest of the people, without reverence or notice. The +princess could not, at first, bear the thought of being levelled with +the vulgar, and, for some days, continued in her chamber, where she was +served by her favourite, Pekuah, as in the palace of the valley. + +Imlac, who understood traffick, sold part of the jewels the next day, +and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence, that he was +immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth. His politeness +attracted many acquaintance, and his generosity made him courted by many +dependants. His table was crowded by men of every nation, who all +admired his knowledge, and solicited his favour. His companions, not +being able to mix in the conversation, could make no discovery of their +ignorance or surprise, and were gradually initiated in the world, as +they gained knowledge of the language. + +The prince had, by frequent lectures, been taught the use and nature of +money; but the ladies could not, for a long time, comprehend what the +merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of so +little use should be received as equivalent to the necessaries of life. + +They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to set +before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He grew +acquainted with all who had any thing uncommon in their fortune or +conduct. He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the +busy, the merchants and the men of learning. + +The prince, being now able to converse with fluency, and having learned +the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse with strangers, +began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and to enter into all +assemblies, that he might make his CHOICE OF LIFE. + +For some time, he thought choice needless, because all appeared, to him, +equally happy. Wherever he went he met gaiety and kindness, and heard +the song of joy, or the laugh of carelessness. He began to believe, that +the world overflowed with universal plenty, and that nothing was +withheld either from want or merit; that every hand showered liberality, +and every heart melted with benevolence; "and who then," says he, "will +be suffered to be wretched?" + +Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the +hope of inexperience, till one day, having sat awhile silent, "I know +not," said the prince, "what can be the reason, that I am more unhappy +than any of our friends. I see them perpetually and unalterably +cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy. I am unsatisfied +with those pleasures which I seem most to court; I live in the crowds of +jollity, not so much to enjoy company, as to shun myself, and am only +loud and merry to conceal my sadness." + +"Every man," said Imlac, "may, by examining his own mind, guess what +passes in the minds of others: when you feel that your own gaiety is +counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companions +not to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are long before we +are convinced, that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it +possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself. +In the assembly, where you passed the last night, there appeared such +sprightliness of air, and volatility of fancy, as might have suited +beings of a higher order, formed to inhabit serener regions, +inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet, believe me, prince, there was not +one who did not dread the moment, when solitude should deliver him to +the tyranny of reflection." + +"This" said the prince, "may be true of others, since it is true of me; +yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is more +happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil +in the CHOICE OF LIFE." + +"The causes of good and evil," answered Imlac, "are so various and +uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified by various +relations, and so much subject to accidents, which cannot be foreseen, +that he, who would fix his condition upon incontestable reasons of +preference, must live and die inquiring and deliberating." + +"But surely," said Rasselas, "the wise men, to whom we listen with +reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves, which they +thought most likely to make them happy." + +"Very few," said the poet, "live by choice. Every man is placed in his +present condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and with +which he did not always willingly cooperate; and, therefore, you will +rarely meet one, who does not think the lot of his neighbour better than +his own." + +"I am pleased to think," said the prince, "that my birth has given me, +at least, one advantage over others, by enabling me to determine for +myself. I have here the world before me; I will review it at leisure: +surely happiness is somewhere to be found." + +CHAP. XVII. + +THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND GAIETY. + +Rasselas rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments upon life. +"Youth," cried he, "is the time of gladness: I will join myself to the +young men, whose only business is to gratify their desires, and whose +time is all spent in a succession of enjoyments." + +To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days brought him +back, weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images; their +laughter without motive; their pleasures were gross and sensual, in +which the mind had no part; their conduct was, at once, wild and mean; +they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of power dejected, and +the eye of wisdom abashed them. + +The prince soon concluded, that he should never be happy in a course of +life, of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a reasonable +being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful only by chance. +"Happiness," said he, "must be something solid and permanent, without +fear and without uncertainty." + +But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by their +frankness and courtesy, that he could not leave them, without warning +and remonstrance. "My friends," said he "I have seriously considered our +manners and our prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own +interest. The first years of man must make provision for the last. He +that never thinks, never can be wise. Perpetual levity must end in +ignorance; and intemperance, though it may fire the spirits for an hour, +will make life short or miserable. Let us consider, that youth is of no +long duration, and that, in maturer age, when the enchantments of fancy +shall cease, and phantoms of delight dance no more about us, we shall +have no comforts but the esteem of wise men, and the means of doing +good. Let us, therefore, stop, while to stop is in our power: let us +live as men who are sometime to grow old, and to whom it will be the +most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies, and to +be reminded of their former luxuriance of health, only by the maladies +which riot has produced." + +They stared awhile, in silence, one upon another, and, at last, drove +him away by a general chorus of continued laughter. + +The consciousness that his sentiments were just, and his intentions +kind, was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horrour of +derision. But he recovered his tranquillity, and pursued his search. + +CHAP. XVIII. + +THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN. + +As he was one day walking in the street, he saw a spacious building, +which all were, by the open doors, invited to enter: he followed the +stream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which +professors read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye upon a +sage, raised above the rest, who discoursed, with great energy, on the +government of the passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful, +his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant. He showed, with great +strength of sentiment, and variety of illustration, that human nature is +degraded and debased, when the lower faculties predominate over the +higher; that when fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion of +the mind, nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government, +perturbation and confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the +intellect to rebels, and excites her children to sedition against +reason, their lawful sovereign. He compared reason to the sun, of which +the light is constant, uniform, and lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of +bright but transitory lustre, irregular in its motion, and delusive in +its direction. + +He then communicated the various precepts given, from time to time, for +the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who had +obtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave +of fear, nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed by +anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks on +calmly through the tumults, or privacies of life, as the sun pursues +alike his course through the calm or the stormy sky. + +He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or pleasure, who +looked with indifference on those modes or accidents, to which the +vulgar give the names of good and evil. He exhorted his hearers to lay +aside their prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts of malice +or misfortune, by invulnerable patience; concluding, that this state +only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every one's power. + +Rasselas listened to him, with the veneration due to the instructions of +a superiour being, and, waiting for him at the door, humbly implored the +liberty of visiting so great a master of true wisdom. The lecturer +hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse of gold into his hand, +which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder. + +"I have found," said the prince, at his return to Imlac, "a man who can +teach all that is necessary to be known; who, from the unshaken throne +of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changing beneath +him. He speaks, and attention watches his lips. He reasons, and +conviction closes his periods. This man shall be my future guide: I will +learn his doctrines, and imitate his life." + +"Be not too hasty," said Imlac, "to trust, or to admire the teachers of +morality: they discourse, like angels, but they live, like men." + +Rasselas, who could not conceive, how any man could reason so forcibly, +without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visit in a +few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned the power of +money, and made his way, by a piece of gold, to the inner apartment, +where he found the philosopher, in a room half-darkened, with his eyes +misty, and his face pale. "Sir," said he, "you are come at a time when +all human friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot be remedied, what +I have lost cannot be supplied. My daughter, my only daughter, from +whose tenderness I expected all the comforts of my age, died last night +of a fever. My views, my purposes, my hopes are at an end: I am now a +lonely being, disunited from society." + +"Sir," said the prince, "mortality is an event by which a wise man can +never be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it should, +therefore, always be expected." "Young man," answered the philosopher, +"you speak like one that has never felt the pangs of separation." "Have +you then forgot the precepts," said Rasselas, "which you so powerfully +enforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity? +Consider, that external things are naturally variable, but truth and +reason are always the same." "What comfort," said the mourner, "can +truth and reason afford me? Of what effect are they now, but to tell me, +that my daughter will not be restored?" + +The prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with +reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sound, and +the inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences. + +CHAP. XIX. + +A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE. + +He was still eager upon the same inquiry: and having heard of a hermit, +that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled the whole +country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat, +and inquire, whether that felicity, which publick life could not afford, +was to be found in solitude; and whether a man, whose age and virtue +made him venerable, could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils, or +enduring them? + +Imlac and the princess agreed to accompany him, and, after the necessary +preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay through the +fields, where shepherds tended their flocks, and the lambs were playing +upon the pasture. "This," said the poet, "is the life which has been +often celebrated for its innocence and quiet; let us pass the heat of +the day among the shepherds' tents, and know, whether all our searches +are not to terminate in pastoral simplicity." + +The proposal pleased them, and they induced the shepherds, by small +presents and familiar questions, to tell their opinion of their own +state: they were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the +good with the evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in their +narratives and descriptions, that very little could be learned from +them. But it was evident, that their hearts were cankered with +discontent; that they considered themselves, as condemned to labour for +the luxury of the rich, and looked up, with stupid malevolence, toward +those that were placed above them. + +The princess pronounced with vehemence, that she would never suffer +these envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not soon +be desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustick happiness; but could +not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures were fabulous; +and was yet in doubt, whether life had any thing that could be justly +preferred to the placid gratifications of fields and woods. She hoped, +that the time would come, when, with a few virtuous and elegant +companions, she should gather flowers, planted by her own hand, fondle +the lambs of her own ewe, and listen, without care, among brooks and +breezes, to one of her maidens reading in the shade. + +CHAP. XX. + +THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY. + +On the next day they continued their journey, till the heat compelled +them to look round for shelter. At a small distance, they saw a thick +wood, which they no sooner entered, than they perceived that they were +approaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were diligently cut away +to open walks, where the shades were darkest; the boughs of opposite +trees were artificially interwoven; seats of flowery turf were raised in +vacant spaces, and a rivulet, that wantoned along the side of a winding +path, had its banks sometimes opened into small basins, and its streams +sometimes obstructed by little mounds of stone, heaped together to +increase its murmurs. + +They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected +accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing, what, or +who, he could be, that, in those rude and unfrequented regions, had +leisure and art for such harmless luxury. + +As they advanced, they heard the sound of musick, and saw youths and +virgins dancing in the grove; and, going still further, beheld a stately +palace, built upon a hill, surrounded with woods. The laws of eastern +hospitality allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed them, like a +man liberal and wealthy. + +He was skilful enough in appearances, soon to discern that they were no +common guests, and spread his table with magnificence. The eloquence of +Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of the princess +excited his respect. When they offered to depart, he entreated their +stay, and was the next day still more unwilling to dismiss them than +before. They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up, in +time, to freedom and confidence. + +The prince now saw all the domesticks cheerful, and all the face of +nature smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that he +should find here what he was seeking; but when he was congratulating the +master upon his possessions, he answered, with a sigh: "My condition +has, indeed, the appearance of happiness, but appearances are delusive. +My prosperity puts my life in danger; the bassa of Egypt is my enemy, +incensed only by my wealth and popularity. I have been, hitherto, +protected against him by the princes of the country; but, as the favour +of the great is uncertain, I know not, how soon my defenders may be +persuaded to share the plunder with the bassa. I have sent my treasures +into a distant country, and, upon the first alarm, am prepared to follow +them. Then will my enemies riot in my mansion, and enjoy the gardens +which I have planted." + +They all joined in lamenting his danger, and deprecating his exile; and +the princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of grief and +indignation, that she retired to her apartment. They continued with +their kind inviter a few days longer, and then went forward to find the +hermit. + +CHAP. XXI. + +THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE. THE HERMIT'S HISTORY. + +They came, on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to the +hermit's cell: it was a cavern, in the side of a mountain, over-shadowed +with palm-trees; at such a distance from the cataract, that nothing more +was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composed the mind to +pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the wind +whistling among the branches. The first rude essay of nature had been so +much improved by human labour, that the cave contained several +apartments, appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodging +to travellers, whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake. + +The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the +evening. On one side lay a book, with pens and papers, on the other, +mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him +unregarded, the princess observed, that he had not the countenance of a +man that had found, or could teach the way to happiness. + +They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid, like a man not +unaccustomed to the forms of courts. "My children," said he, "if you +have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such +conveniencies, for the night, as this cavern will afford. I have all +that nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a hermit's +cell." + +They thanked him, and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and +regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before them, +though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was cheerful +without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon gained the esteem +of his guests, and the princess repented of her hasty censure. + +At last Imlac began thus: "I do not now wonder that your reputation is +so far extended; we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came hither +to implore your direction for this young man and maiden, in the CHOICE +OF LIFE." + +"To him that lives well," answered the hermit, "every form of life is +good; nor can I give any other rule for choice, than to remove from all +apparent evil." + +"He will remove most certainly from evil," said the prince, "who shall +devote himself to that solitude, which you have recommended by your +example." + +"I have, indeed, lived fifteen years in solitude," said the hermit, "but +have no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth I +professed arms, and was raised, by degrees, to the highest military +rank. I have traversed wide countries, at the head of my troops, and +seen many battles and sieges. At last, being disgusted by the preferment +of a younger officer, and feeling, that my vigour was beginning to +decay, I was resolved to close my life in peace, having found the world +full of snares, discord, and misery. I had once escaped from the pursuit +of the enemy by the shelter of this cavern, and, therefore, chose it for +my final residence. I employed artificers to form it into chambers, and +stored it with all that I was likely to want. + +"For some time after my retreat, I rejoiced, like a tempest-beaten +sailor at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden +change of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and repose. When the +pleasure of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining the +plants which grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected from +the rocks. But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome. I have +been, for some time, unsettled and distracted; my mind is disturbed with +a thousand perplexities of doubt, and vanities of imagination, which +hourly prevail upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation or +diversion. I am sometimes ashamed to think, that I could not secure +myself from vice, but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin +to suspect, that I was rather impelled by resentment, than led by +devotion, into solitude. My fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I +lament, that I have lost so much, and have gained so little. In +solitude, if I escape the example of bad men, I want, likewise, the +counsel and conversation of the good. I have been long comparing the +evils with the advantages of society, and resolve to return into the +world to-morrow. The life of a solitary man will be certainly miserable, +but not certainly devout." + +They heard his resolution with surprise, but, after a short pause, +offered to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasure, +which he had hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, on +which, as he approached it, he gazed with rapture. + +CHAP. XXII. + +THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE, LED ACCORDING TO NATURE. + +Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met, at stated +times, to unbend their minds, and compare their opinions. Their manners +were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive, and their +disputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continued, +till neither controvertist remembered, upon what question they began. +Some faults were almost general among them; every one was desirous to +dictate to the rest, and every one was pleased to hear the genius or +knowledge of another depreciated. + +In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit, +and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life, which +he had so deliberately chosen, and so laudably followed. The sentiments +of the hearers were various. Some were of opinion, that the folly of his +choice had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetual +perseverance. One of the youngest among them, with great vehemence, +pronounced him a hypocrite. Some talked of the right of society to the +labour of individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion of duty. +Others readily allowed, that there was a time, when the claims of the +publick were satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, +to review his life, and purify his heart. One, who appeared more +affected with the narrative than the rest, thought it likely, that the +hermit would, in a few years, go back to his retreat, and, perhaps, if +shame did not restrain, or death intercept him, return once more from +his retreat into the world: "For the hope of happiness," said he "is so +strongly impressed, that the longest experience is not able to efface +it. Of the present state, whatever it may be, we feel, and are forced to +confess, the misery; yet, when the same state is again at a distance, +imagination paints it as desirable. But the time will surely come, when +desire will be no longer our torment, and no man shall be wretched, but +by his own fault." + +"This," said a philosopher, who had heard him with tokens of great +impatience, "is the present condition of a wise man. The time is already +come, when none are wretched, but by their own fault. Nothing is more +idle, than to inquire after happiness, which nature has kindly placed +within our reach. The way to be happy is to live according to nature, in +obedience to that universal and unalterable law, with which every heart +is originally impressed; which is not written on it by precept, but +engraven by destiny, not instilled by education, but infused at our +nativity. He that lives according to nature will suffer nothing from the +delusions of hope, or importunities of desire; he will receive and +reject with equability of temper; and act or suffer, as the reason of +things shall alternately prescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with +subtile definitions, or intricate ratiocinations. Let them learn to be +wise by easier means; let them observe the hind of the forest, and the +linnet of the grove; let them consider the life of animals, whose +motions are regulated by instinct; they obey their guide, and are happy. +Let us, therefore, at length, cease to dispute, and learn to live; throw +away the incumbrance of precepts, which they, who utter them, with so +much pride and pomp, do not understand, and carry with us this simple +and intelligible maxim: That deviation from nature is deviation from +happiness." + +When he had spoken, he looked round him with a placid air, and enjoyed +the consciousness of his own beneficence. "Sir," said the prince, with +great modesty, "as I, like all the rest of mankind, am desirous of +felicity, my closest attention has been fixed upon your discourse: I +doubt not the truth of a position, which a man so learned has, so +confidently, advanced. Let me only know, what it is to live according to +nature." + +"When I find young men so humble and so docile," said the philosopher, +"I can deny them no information which my studies have enabled me to +afford. To live according to nature, is to act always with due regard to +the fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and +effects; to concur with the great and unchangeable scheme of universal +felicity; to cooperate with the general disposition and tendency of the +present system of things." + +The prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should +understand less, as he heard him longer. He, therefore, bowed, and was +silent, and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the rest +vanquished, rose up and departed, with the air of a man that had +cooperated with the present system. + +CHAP. XXIII. + +THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK OF OBSERVATION. + +Rasselas returned home full of reflections, doubtful how to direct his +future steps. Of the way to happiness, he found the learned and simple +equally ignorant; but, as he was yet young, he flattered himself that he +had time remaining for more experiments, and further inquiries. He +communicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but was answered +by him with new doubts, and remarks that gave him no comfort. He, +therefore, discoursed more frequently and freely with his sister, who +had yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted him to give some +reason why, though he had been, hitherto, frustrated, he might succeed +at last. + +"We have, hitherto," said she, "known but little of the world: we have +never yet been either great or mean. In our own country, though we had +royalty, we had no power; and, in this, we have not yet seen the private +recesses of domestick peace. Imlac favours not our search, lest we +should, in time, find him mistaken. We will divide the task between us: +you shall try what is to be found in the splendour of courts, and I will +range the shades of humbler life. Perhaps command and authority may be +the supreme blessings, as they afford most opportunities of doing good: +or, perhaps, what this world can give may be found in the modest +habitations of middle fortune, too low for great designs, and too high +for penury and distress." + +CHAP. XXIV. + +THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS. + +Rasselas applauded the design, and appeared, next day, with a splendid +retinue at the court of the bassa. He was soon distinguished for his +magnificence, and admitted as a prince, whose curiosity had brought him +from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers, and +frequent conversation with the bassa himself. + +He was, at first, inclined to believe, that the man must be pleased with +his own condition, whom all approached with reverence, and heard with +obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts, to a whole +kingdom. "There can be no pleasure," said he, "equal to that of feeling, +at once, the joy of thousands, all made happy by wise administration. +Yet, since by the law of subordination, this sublime delight can be in +one nation but the lot of one, it is, surely, reasonable to think, that +there is some satisfaction more popular and accessible; and that +millions can hardly be subjected to the will of a single man, only to +fill his particular breast with incommunicable content." + +These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of the +difficulty. But, as presents and civilities gained him more familiarity, +he found that almost every man, who stood high in employment, hated all +the rest, and was hated by them, and that their lives were a continual +succession of plots and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction and +treachery. Many of those, who surrounded the bassa, were sent only to +watch and report his conduct; every tongue was muttering censure, and +every eye was searching for a fault. + +At last the letters of revocation arrived, the bassa was carried in +chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more. + +"What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?" said Rasselas +to his sister: "is it without any efficacy to good? or, is the +subordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and glorious? Is +the sultan the only happy man in his dominions? or, is the sultan +himself subject to the torments of suspicion, and the dread of enemies?" + +In a short time the second bassa was deposed. The sultan, that had +advanced him, was murdered by the janizaries, and his successour had +other views, and different favourites. + +CHAP. XXV. + +THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE THAN SUCCESS. + +The princess, in the mean time, insinuated herself into many families; +for there are few doors, through which liberality, joined with good-humour, +cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were airy and +cheerful, but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the conversation +of Imlac and her brother, to be much pleased with childish levity, and +prattle, which had no meaning. She found their thoughts narrow, their +wishes low, and their merriment often artificial. Their pleasures, poor +as they were, could not be preserved pure, but were imbittered by petty +competitions, and worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the +beauty of each other; of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing, +and from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love with +triflers, like themselves, and many fancied that they were in love, +when, in truth, they were only idle. Their affection was not fixed on +sense or virtue, and, therefore, seldom ended but in vexation. Their +grief, however, like their joy, was transient; every thing floated in +their mind, unconnected with the past or future; so that one desire +easily gave way to another, as a second stone, cast into the water, +effaces and confounds the circles of the first. + +With these girls she played, as with inoffensive animals, and found them +proud of her countenance, and weary of her company. + +But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability easily +persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow, to discharge their +secrets in her ear: and those, whom hope flattered, or prosperity +delighted, often courted her to partake their pleasures. + +The princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a private +summer house, on the bank of the Nile, and related to each other the +occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together, the princess cast +her eyes upon the river that flowed before her. "Answer," said she, +"great father of waters, thou that rollest thy floods through eighty +nations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native king. Tell me, +if thou waterest, through all thy course, a single habitation from which +thou dost not hear the murmurs of complaint?" + +"You are then," said Rasselas, "not more successful in private houses, +than I have been in courts." "I have, since the last partition of our +provinces," said the princess, "enabled myself to enter familiarly into +many families, where there was the fairest show of prosperity and peace, +and know not one house that is not haunted by some fury, that destroys +their quiet. + +"I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that, there, it +could not be found. But I saw many poor, whom I had supposed to live in +affluence. Poverty has, in large cities, very different appearances; it +is often concealed in splendour, and often in extravagance. It is the +care of a very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the +rest; they support themselves by temporary expedients, and every day is +lost in contriving for the morrow. + +"This, however, was an evil, which, though frequent, I saw with less +pain, because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my bounties; +more offended with my quickness to detect their wants, than pleased with +my readiness to succour them: and others, whose exigencies compelled +them to admit my kindness, have never been able to forgive their +benefactress. Many, however, have been sincerely grateful, without the +ostentation of gratitude, or the hope of other favours." + +CHAP. XXVI. + +THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE. + +Nekayah, perceiving her brother's attention fixed, proceeded in her +narrative. + +"In families, where there is, or is not, poverty, there is commonly +discord: if a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a family, +likewise, is a little kingdom, torn with factions, and exposed to +revolutions. An unpractised observer expects the love of parents and +children to be constant and equal; but this kindness seldom continues +beyond the years of infancy; in a short time the children become rivals +to their parents. Benefits are allayed by reproaches, and gratitude +debased by envy. + +"Parents and children seldom act in concert: each child endeavours to +appropriate the esteem, or fondness of the parents; and the parents, +with yet less temptation, betray each other to their children; thus some +place their confidence in the father, and some in the mother, and, by +degrees, the house is filled with artifices and feuds. + +"The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old, are +naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and despondence, of +expectation and experience, without crime or folly on either side. The +colours of life, in youth and age, appear different, as the face of +nature, in spring and winter. And how can children credit the assertions +of parents, which their own eyes show them to be false? + +"Few parents act in such a manner, as much to enforce their maxims, by +the credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slow contrivance +and gradual progression: the youth expects to force his way by genius, +vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard to riches, and the +youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies prudence: the youth commits +himself to magnanimity and chance. The young man, who intends no ill, +believes that none is intended, and, therefore, acts with openness and +candour: but his father, having suffered the injuries of fraud, is +impelled to suspect, and, too often, allured to practise it. Age looks +with anger on the temerity of youth, and youth with contempt on the +scrupulosity of age. Thus parents and children, for the greatest part, +live on to love less and less: and, if those whom nature has thus +closely united are the torments of each other, where shall we look for +tenderness and consolation?" + +"Surely," said the prince, "you must have been unfortunate in your +choice of acquaintance: I am unwilling to believe, that the most tender +of all relations is thus impeded, in its effects, by natural necessity." + +"Domestick discord," answered she, "is not inevitably and fatally +necessary; but yet it is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a whole +family is virtuous: the good and evil cannot well agree: and the evil +can yet less agree with one another: even the virtuous fall, sometimes, +to variance, when their virtues are of different kinds, and tending to +extremes. In general, those parents have most reverence who most deserve +it: for he that lives well cannot be despised. + +"Many other evils infest private life. Some are the slaves of servants, +whom they have trusted with their affairs. Some are kept in continual +anxiety, by the caprice of rich relations, whom they cannot please, and +dare not offend. Some husbands are imperious, and some wives perverse: +and, as it is always more easy to do evil than good, though the wisdom +or virtue of one can very rarely make many happy, the folly or vice of +one may often make many miserable." + +"If such be the general effect of marriage," said the prince, "I shall, +for the future, think it dangerous to connect my interest with that of +another, lest I should be unhappy by my partner's fault." + +"I have met," said the princess, "with many who live single for that +reason; but I never found that their prudence ought to raise envy. They +dream away their time without friendship, without fondness, and are +driven to rid themselves of the day, for which they have no use, by +childish amusements, or vitious delights. They act as beings under the +constant sense of some known inferiority, that fills their minds with +rancour, and their tongues with censure. They are peevish at home, and +malevolent abroad; and, as the outlaws of human nature, make it their +business and their pleasure to disturb that society, which debars them +from its privileges. To live without feeling or exciting sympathy; to be +fortunate without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without +tasting the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude: it is +not retreat, but exclusion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, but +celibacy has no pleasures." + +"What then is to be done?" said Rasselas; "the more we inquire, the less +we can resolve. Surely he is most likely to please himself, that has no +other inclination to regard." + +CHAP. XXVII. + +DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS. + +The conversation had a short pause. The prince, having considered his +sister's observations, told her that she had surveyed life with +prejudice, and supposed misery where she did not find it. "Your +narrative," says he, "throws yet a darker gloom upon the prospects of +futurity: the predictions of Imlac were but faint sketches of the evils +painted by Nekayah. I have been lately convinced, that quiet is not the +daughter of grandeur, or of power: that her presence is not to be bought +by wealth, nor enforced by conquest. It is evident, that as any man acts +in a wider compass, he must be more exposed to opposition from enmity, +or miscarriage from chance; whoever has many to please or to govern, +must use the ministry of many agents, some of whom will be wicked, and +some ignorant; by some he will be misled, and by others betrayed. If he +gratifies one, he will offend another: those that are not favoured will +think themselves injured; and, since favours can be conferred but upon +few, the greater number will be always discontented." + +"The discontent," said the princess, "which is thus unreasonable, I +hope, that I shall always have spirit to despise, and you power to +repress." + +"Discontent," answered Rasselas, "will not always be without reason +under the most just and vigilant administration of publick affairs. +None, however attentive, can always discover that merit, which indigence +or faction may happen to obscure; and none, however powerful, can always +reward it. Yet, he that sees inferiour desert advanced above him, will +naturally impute that preference to partiality or caprice; and, indeed, +it can scarcely be hoped that any man, however magnanimous by nature, or +exalted by condition, will be able to persist, for ever, in the fixed +and inexorable justice of distribution; he will sometimes indulge his +own affections, and sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit +some to please him who can never serve him; he will discover in those +whom he loves, qualities which, in reality, they do not possess; and to +those, from whom he receives pleasure, he will, in his turn, endeavour +to give it. Thus will recommendations sometimes prevail, which were +purchased by money, or by the more destructive bribery of flattery and +servility. + +"He that has much to do will do something wrong, and, of that wrong must +suffer the consequences; and, if it were possible that he should always +act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of his conduct, the bad +will censure and obstruct him by malevolence, and the good sometimes by +mistake. + +"The highest stations cannot, therefore, hope to be the abodes of +happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from thrones and +palaces to seats of humble privacy, and placid obscurity. For what can +hinder the satisfaction, or intercept the expectations of him, whose +abilities are adequate to his employments; who sees, with his own eyes, +the whole circuit of his influence; who chooses, by his own knowledge, +all whom he trusts; and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or +fear? Surely he has nothing to do, but to love and to be loved, to be +virtuous and to be happy." + +"Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness," said +Nekayah, "this world will never afford an opportunity of deciding. But +this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not always find visible +happiness, in proportion to visible virtue. All natural, and almost all +political evils, are incident alike to the bad and good; they are +confounded in the misery of a famine, and not much distinguished in the +fury of a faction; they sink together in a tempest, and are driven +together from their country by invaders. All that virtue can afford is +quietness of conscience, a steady prospect of a happier state; this may +enable us to endure calamity with patience; but remember, that patience +must suppose pain. + +CHAP. XXVIII. + +RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION. + +"Dear princess," said Rasselas, "you fall into the common errours of +exaggeratory declamation, by producing, in a familiar disquisition, +examples of national calamities, and scenes of extensive misery, which +are found in books, rather than in the world, and which, as they are +horrid, are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils which we do +not feel, nor injure life by misrepresentations; I cannot bear that +querulous eloquence, which threatens every city with a siege, like that +of Jerusalem, that makes famine attend on every flight of locusts, and +suspends pestilence on the wing of every blast that issues from the +south. + +"On necessary and inevitable evils, which overwhelm kingdoms at once, +all disputation is vain: when they happen they must be endured. But it +is evident, that these bursts of universal distress are more dreaded +than felt; thousands, and ten thousands, flourish in youth, and wither +in age, without the knowledge of any other than domestick evils, and +share the same pleasures and vexations, whether their kings are mild or +cruel, whether the armies of their country pursue their enemies, or +retreat before them. While courts are disturbed with intestine +competitions, and ambassadours are negotiating in foreign countries, the +smith still plies his anvil, and the husbandman drives his plough +forward; the necessaries of life are required and obtained; and the +successive business of the seasons continues to make its wonted +revolutions. + +"Let us cease to consider what, perhaps, may never happen, and what, +when it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation. We will not +endeavour to modify the motions of the elements, or to fix the destiny +of kingdoms. It is our business to consider what beings, like us, may +perform; each labouring for his own happiness, by promoting, within his +circle, however narrow, the happiness of others. + +"Marriage is evidently the dictate of nature; men and women are made to +be companions of each other; and, therefore, I cannot be persuaded, but +that marriage is one of the means of happiness." + +"I know not," said the princess, "whether marriage be more than one of +the innumerable modes of human misery. When I see, and reckon, the +various forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of lasting +discord, the diversities of temper, the oppositions of opinion, the rude +collisions of contrary desire, where both are urged by violent impulses, +the obstinate contests of disagreeable virtues, where both are supported +by consciousness of good intention, I am, sometimes, disposed to think, +with the severer casuists of most nations, that marriage is rather +permitted than approved, and that none, but by the instigation of a +passion, too much indulged, entangle themselves with indissoluble +compacts." + +"You seem to forget," replied Rasselas, "that you have, even now, +represented celibacy, as less happy than marriage. Both conditions may +be bad, but they cannot both be worst. Thus it happens, when wrong +opinions are entertained, that they mutually destroy each other, and +leave the mind open to truth." + +"I did not expect," answered the princess, "to hear that imputed to +falsehood, which is the consequence only of frailty. To the mind, as to +the eye, it is difficult to compare, with exactness, objects, vast in +their extent, and various in their parts. Where we see, or conceive, the +whole at once, we readily note the discriminations, and decide the +preference: but of two systems, of which neither can be surveyed, by any +human being, in its full compass of magnitude, and multiplicity of +complication, where is the wonder, that, judging of the whole by parts, +I am alternately affected by one and the other, as either presses on my +memory or fancy? We differ from ourselves, just as we differ from each +other, when we see only part of the question, as in the multifarious +relations of politicks and morality; but when we perceive the whole at +once, as in numerical computations, all agree in one judgment, and none +ever varies his opinion." + +"Let us not add," said the prince, "to the other evils of life, the +bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each other in +subtilties of argument. We are employed in a search, of which both are +equally to enjoy the success, or suffer by the miscarriage. It is, +therefore, fit that we assist each other. You, surely, conclude too +hastily from the infelicity of marriage against its institution: will +not the misery of life prove equally, that life cannot be the gift of +heaven? The world must be peopled by marriage, or peopled without it." + +"How the world is to be peopled," returned Nekayah, "is not my care, and +needs not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation should +omit to leave successours behind them: we are not now inquiring for the +world, but for ourselves." + +CHAP. XXIX. + +THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE CONTINUED. + +"The good of the whole," says Rasselas, "is the same with the good of +all its parts. If marriage be best for mankind, it must be evidently +best for individuals, or a permanent and necessary duty must be the +cause of evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed to the convenience +of others. In the estimate, which you have made of the two states, it +appears, that the incommodities of a single life are, in a great +measure, necessary and certain, but those of the conjugal state, +accidental and avoidable. + +"I cannot forbear to flatter myself, that prudence and benevolence will +make marriage happy. The general folly of mankind is the cause of +general complaint. What can be expected, but disappointment and +repentance, from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the ardour +of desire, without judgment, without foresight, without inquiry after +conformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of judgment, or +purity of sentiment? + +"Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden, meeting by +chance, or brought together by artifice, exchange glances, reciprocate +civilities, go home, and dream of one another. Having little to divert +attention, or diversify thought, they find themselves uneasy, when they +are apart, and, therefore, conclude that they shall be happy together. +They marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness before had +concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge nature with +cruelty. + +"From those early marriages proceeds, likewise, the rivalry of parents +and children; the son is eager to enjoy the world, before the father is +willing to forsake it, and there is hardly room, at once, for two +generations. The daughter begins to bloom, before the mother can be +content to fade, and neither can forbear to wish for the absence of the +other. + +"Surely all these evils may be avoided, by that deliberation and delay, +which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the variety and +jollity of youthful pleasures, life may be well enough supported, +without the help of a partner. Longer time will increase experience, and +wider views will allow better opportunities of inquiry and selection: +one advantage, at least, will be certain; the parents will be visibly +older than their children." + +"What reason cannot collect," said Nekayah, "and what experiment has not +yet taught, can be known only from the report of others. I have been +told, that late marriages are not eminently happy. This is a question +too important to be neglected, and I have often proposed it to those, +whose accuracy of remark, and comprehensiveness of knowledge, made their +suffrages worthy of regard. They have generally determined, that it is +dangerous for a man and woman to suspend their fate upon each other, at +a time, when opinions are fixed, and habits are established; when +friendships have been contracted on both sides; when life has been +planned into method, and the mind has long enjoyed the contemplation of +its own prospects. + +"It is scarcely possible that two, travelling through the world, under +the conduct of chance, should have been both directed to the same path, +and it will not often happen, that either will quit the track which +custom has made pleasing. When the desultory levity of youth has settled +into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride, ashamed to yield, or +obstinacy, delighting to contend. And, even though mutual esteem +produces mutual desire to please, time itself, as it modifies +unchangeably the external mien, determines, likewise, the direction of +the passions, and gives an inflexible rigidity to the manners. Long +customs are not easily broken: he that attempts to change the course of +his own life, very often labours in vain; and how shall we do that for +others, which we are seldom able to do for ourselves!" + +"But, surely," interposed the prince, "you suppose the chief motive of +choice forgotten or neglected. Whenever I shall seek a wife, it shall be +my first question, whether she be willing to be led by reason." + +"Thus it is," said Nekayah, "that philosophers are deceived. There are a +thousand familiar disputes, which reason can never decide; questions +that elude investigation, and make logick ridiculous; cases where +something must be done, and where little can be said. Consider the state +of mankind, and inquire how few can be supposed to act, upon any +occasions, whether small or great, with all the reasons of action +present to their minds. Wretched would be the pair, above all names of +wretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust by reason, every morning, +all the minute detail of a domestick day. + +"Those who marry at an advanced age, will, probably, escape the +encroachments of their children; but, in diminution of this advantage, +they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless, to a +guardian's mercy; or, if that should not happen, they must, at least, go +out of the world, before they see those whom they love best, either wise +or great. + +"From their children, if they have less to fear, they have less also to +hope; and they lose, without equivalent, the joys of early love, and the +convenience of uniting with manners pliant, and minds susceptible of new +impressions, which might wear away their dissimilitudes by long +cohabitation, as soft bodies, by continual attrition, conform their +surfaces to each other. + +"I believe it will be found, that those who marry late, are best pleased +with their children, and those who marry early with their partners." + +"The union of these two affections," said Rasselas, "would produce all +that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time, when marriage might unite +them, a time neither too early for the father, nor too late for the +husband." + +"Every hour," answered the princess, "confirms my prejudice in favour of +the position, so often uttered by the mouth of Imlac: 'That nature sets +her gifts on the right hand and on the left.' Those conditions, which +flatter hope and attract desire, are so constituted, that, as we +approach one, we recede from another. There are goods so opposed, that +we cannot seize both, but, by too much prudence, may pass between them, +at too great a distance to reach either. This is often the fate of long +consideration; he does nothing, who endeavours to do more than is +allowed to humanity. Flatter not yourself with contrarieties of +pleasure. Of the blessings set before you make your choice, and be +content. No man can taste the fruits of autumn, while he is delighting +his scent with the flowers of the spring; no man can, at the same time, +fill his cup from the source and from the mouth of the Nile." + +CHAP. XXX. + +IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION. + +Here Imlac entered, and interrupted them. "Imlac," said Rasselas, "I +have been taking from the princess the dismal history of private life, +and am almost discouraged from further search." + +"It seems to me," said Imlac, "that, while you are making the choice of +life, you neglect to live. You wander about a single city, which, +however large and diversified, can now afford few novelties, and forget +that you are in a country, famous among the earliest monarchies for the +power and wisdom of its inhabitants; a country, where the sciences first +dawned that illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts cannot be +traced of civil society or domestick life. + +"The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry and +power, before which all European magnificence is confessed to fade away. +The ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern builders; and, +from the wonders which time has spared, we may conjecture, though +uncertainly, what it has destroyed." + +"My curiosity," said Rasselas, "does not very strongly lead me to survey +piles of stone, or mounds of earth; my business is with man. I came +hither not to measure fragments of temples, or trace choked aqueducts, +but to look upon the various scenes of the present world." + +"The things that are now before us," said the princess, "require +attention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or the +monuments of ancient times? with times which never can return, and +heroes, whose form of life was different, from all that the present +condition of mankind requires or allows?" + +"To know any thing," returned the poet, "we must know its effects; to +see men, we must see their works, that we may learn what reason has +dictated, or passion has incited, and find what are the most powerful +motives of action. To judge rightly of the present we must oppose it to +the past; for all judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing can +be known. The truth is, that no mind is much employed upon the present: +recollection and anticipation fill up almost all our moments. Our +passions are joy and grief, love and hatred, hope and fear. Of joy and +grief, the past is the object, and the future of hope and fear; even +love and hatred respect the past, for the cause must have been before +the effect. + +"The present state of things is the consequence of the former, and it is +natural to inquire, what were the sources of the good that we enjoy, or +the evil that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves, to neglect the +study of history is not prudent: if we are intrusted with the care of +others, it is not just. Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is criminal; +and he may properly be charged with evil, who refused to learn how he +might prevent it. + +"There is no part of history so generally useful, as that which relates +the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of reason, the +successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning and +ignorance, which are the light and darkness of thinking beings, the +extinction and resuscitation of arts, and the revolutions of the +intellectual world. If accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly +the business of princes, the useful or elegant arts are not to be +neglected; those who have kingdoms to govern, have understandings to +cultivate. + +"Example is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is formed in +war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this, contemplative life has +the advantage: great actions are seldom seen, but the labours of art are +always at hand, for those who desire to know what art has been able to +perform. + +"When the eye or the imagination is struck with an uncommon work, the +next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it was +performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation; we enlarge +our comprehension by new ideas, and, perhaps, recover some art lost to +mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our own country. At +least, we compare our own with former times, and either rejoice at our +improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good, discover our +defects." + +"I am willing," said the prince, "to see all that can deserve my +search." "And I," said the princess, "shall rejoice to learn something +of the manners of antiquity." + +"The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the most +bulky works of manual industry," said Imlac, "are the pyramids; fabricks +raised, before the time of history, and of which the earliest narratives +afford us only uncertain traditions. Of these, the greatest is still +standing, very little injured by time." + +"Let us visit them to-morrow," said Nekayah. "I have often heard of the +pyramids, and shall not rest, till I have seen them, within and without, +with my own eyes." + +CHAP. XXXI. + +THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS. + +The resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day. They laid +tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the pyramids, till +their curiosity was fully satisfied. They travelled gently, turned aside +to every thing remarkable, stopped, from time to time, and conversed +with the inhabitants, and observed the various appearances of towns +ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature. + +When they came to the great pyramid, they were astonished at the extent +of the base, and the height of the top. Imlac explained to them the +principles upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a fabrick, +intended to coextend its duration with that of the world: he showed, +that its gradual diminution gave it such stability, as defeated all the +common attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by +earthquakes themselves, the least resistible of natural violence. A +concussion that should shatter the pyramid, would threaten the +dissolution of the continent. + +They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot. +Next day they prepared to enter its interiour apartments, and, having +hired the common guides, climbed up to the first passage, when the +favourite of the princess, looking into the cavity, stepped back and +trembled. "Pekuah," said the princess, "of what art thou afraid?" "Of +the narrow entrance," answered the lady, "and of the dreadful gloom. I +dare not enter a place which must, surely, be inhabited by unquiet +souls. The original possessours of these dreadful vaults will start up +before us, and, perhaps, shut us in for ever[a]." She spoke, and threw +her arms round the neck of her mistress. + +"If all your fear be of apparitions," said the prince, "I will promise +you safety: there is no danger from the dead; he that is once buried +will be seen no more." + +"That the dead are seen no more," said Imlac, "I will not undertake to +maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages, and +of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whom +apparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion, +which perhaps, prevails, as far as human nature is diffused, could +become universal only by its truth: those that never heard of one +another, would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience +can make credible. That it is doubted by single cavillers, can very +little weaken the general evidence; and some, who deny it with their +tongues, confess it by their fears".[b] + +"Yet I do not mean to add new terrours to those which have already +seized upon Pekuah. There can be no reason, why spectres should haunt +the pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power or +will to hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no violation of their +privileges; we can take nothing from them, how then can we offend them?" + +"My dear Pekuah," said the princess, "I will always go before you, and +Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of the +princess of Abissinia." + +"If the princess is pleased that her servant should die," returned the +lady, "let her command some death less dreadful than enclosure in this +horrid cavern. You know, I dare not disobey you: I must go, if you +command me; but, if I once enter, I never shall come back." + +The princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation or +reproof, and, embracing her, told her, that she should stay in the tent, +till their return. Pekuah was yet not satisfied, but entreated the +princess not to pursue so dreadful a purpose, as that of entering the +rececess of the pyramid. "Though I cannot teach courage," said Nekayah, +"I must not learn cowardice; nor leave, at last, undone what I came +hither only to do." + +[a] It may not be unacceptable to our readers, to quote, in this place, +a stanza, from an Ode to Horror in the Student, ii. 313. It alludes +to the story of a French gentleman, who, going into the catacombs, +not far from Cairo, with some Arab guides, was there robbed by them, +and left; a huge stone being placed over the entrance. + + What felt the Gallic, traveller, + When far in Arab desert, drear, + He found within the catacomb, + Alive, the terrors of a tomb? + While many a mummy, through the shade, + In hieroglyphic stole arrayed, + Seem'd to uprear the mystic head, + And trace the gloom with ghostly tread; + Thou heard'st him pour the stifled groan, + Horror! his soul was all thy own! ED. + +[b] See Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions. It is to be regretted, that + Coleridge has never yet gratified the wish he professed to feel, in + the first volume of his Friend, p. 246, to devote an entire work to + the subject of dreams, visions, ghosts, witchcraft, &c; in it we + should have had the satisfaction of tracing the workings of a most + vivid imagination, analyzed by the most discriminating judgment. See + Barrow's sermon on the being of God, proved from supernatural + effects. We need scarcely request the reader to bear in mind, that + Barrow was a mathematician, and one of the most severe of + reasoners.--ED. + +CHAP. XXXII. + +THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID. + +Pekuah descended to the tents, and the rest entered the pyramid: they +passed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, and +examined the chest, in which the body of the founder is supposed to have +been reposited. They then sat down in one of the most spacious chambers, +to rest awhile before they attempted to return. + +"We have now," said Imlac, "gratified our minds with an exact view of +the greatest work of man, except the wall of China. + +"Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive. It secured a wealthy +and timorous nation from the incursions of barbarians, whose +unskilfulness in arts made it easier for them to supply their wants by +rapine than by industry, and who, from time to time, poured in upon the +habitations of peaceful commerce, as vultures descend upon domestick +fowl. Their celerity and fierceness, made the wall necessary, and their +ignorance made it efficacious. + +"But, for the pyramids, no reason has ever been given adequate to the +cost and labour of the work. The narrowness of the chambers proves that +it could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures might have been +reposited, at far less expense, with equal security. It seems to have +been erected only in compliance with that hunger of imagination, which +preys incessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by some +employment. Those who have already all that they can enjoy, must enlarge +their desires. He that has built for use, till use is supplied, must +begin to build for vanity, and extend his plan to the utmost power of +human performance, that he may not be soon reduced to form another wish. + +"I consider this mighty structure, as a monument of the insufficiency of +human enjoyments. A king, whose power is unlimited, and whose treasures +surmount all real and imaginary wants, is compelled to solace, by the +erection of a pyramid, the satiety of dominion and tastelessness of +pleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life, by seeing +thousands labouring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid +upon another. Whoever thou art, that, not content with a moderate +condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that +command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty, with perpetual +gratifications, survey the pyramids, and confess thy folly!" + +CHAP. XXXIII. + +THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. + +They rose up, and returned through the cavity, at which they had +entered, and the princess prepared for her favourite a long narrative of +dark labyrinths, and costly rooms, and of the different impressions, +which the varieties of the way had made upon her. But, when they came to +their train, they found every one silent and dejected: the men +discovered shame and fear in their countenances, and the women were +weeping in the tents. + +What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediately +inquired. "You had scarcely entered into the pyramid," said one of the +attendants, "when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us; we were too few to +resist them, and too slow to escape. They were about to search the +tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when the +approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight; but they seized +the lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them away: the Turks are +now pursuing them by our instigation, but, I fear, they will not be able +to overtake them." + +The princess was overpowered with surprise and grief. Rasselas, in the +first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants to follow him, and +prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand. "Sir," said +Imlac, "what can you hope from violence or valour? the Arabs are mounted +on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have only beasts of burden. +By leaving our present station we may lose the princess, but cannot hope +to regain Pekuah." + +In a short time, the Turks returned, having not been able to reach the +enemy. The princess burst out into new lamentations, and Rasselas could +scarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice; but Imlac was of +opinion, that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their +misfortune, for, perhaps, they would have killed their captives, rather +than have resigned them. + +CHAP. XXXIV. + +THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH. + +There was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned to Cairo, +repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of the +government, lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected to procure +a guard, imagining many expedients, by which the loss of Pekuah might +have been prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery, +though none could find any thing proper to be done. + +Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to comfort +her, by telling her, that all had their troubles, and that lady Pekuah +had enjoyed much happiness in the world, for a long time, and might +reasonably expect a change of fortune. They hoped, that some good would +befall her, wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would find +another friend, who might supply her place. + +The princess made them no answer, and they continued the form of +condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was +lost. + +Next day the prince presented, to the bassa, a memorial of the wrong +which he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The bassa threatened +to punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch them, nor, indeed, +could any account or description be given, by which he might direct the +pursuit. + +It soon appeared, that nothing would be done by authority. Governours, +being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can punish, and more +wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate +negligence, and presently forget the request, when they lose sight of +the petitioner. + +Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private agents. He +found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts of the +Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and who readily +undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Of these, some were furnished with +money for their journey, and came back no more; some were liberally paid +for accounts which a few days discovered to be false. But the princess +would not suffer any means, however improbable, to be left untried. +While she was doing something, she kept her hope alive. As one expedient +failed, another was suggested; when one messenger returned unsuccessful, +another was despatched to a different quarter. + +Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard; the +hopes, which they had endeavoured to raise in each other, grew more +languid, and the princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunk +down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand times she reproached +herself with the easy compliance, by which she permitted her favourite +to stay behind her. "Had not my fondness," said she, "lessened my +authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrours. She ought to +have feared me more than spectres. A severe look would have overpowered +her; a peremptory command would have compelled obedience. Why did +foolish indulgence prevail upon me? Why did I not speak, and refuse to +hear?" + +"Great princess," said Imlac, "do not reproach yourself for your virtue, +or consider that as blamable by which evil has accidentally been caused. +Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous and kind. When +we act according to our duty, we commit the event to him, by whose laws +our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to be finally +punished for obedience. When, in prospect of some good, whether natural +or moral, we break the rules prescribed us, we withdraw from the +direction of superiour wisdom, and take all consequences upon ourselves. +Man cannot so far know the connexion of causes and events, as that he +may venture to do wrong, in order to do right. When we pursue our end by +lawful means, we may always console our miscarriage by the hope of +future recompense. When we consult only our own policy, and attempt to +find a nearer way to good, by overleaping the settled boundaries of +right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success, because we cannot +escape the consciousness of our fault; but, if we miscarry, the +disappointment is irremediably imbittered. How comfortless is the sorrow +of him, who feels, at once, the pangs of guilt, and the vexation of +calamity, which guilt has brought upon him? + +"Consider, princess, what would have been your condition, if the lady +Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to stay in +the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have borne the +thought, if you had forced her into the pyramid, and she had died before +you in agonies of terrour?" + +"Had either happened," said Nekayah, "I could not have endured life till +now: I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance of such +cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself." + +"This, at least," said Imlac, "is the present reward of virtuous +conduct, that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it." + +CHAP. XXXV. + +THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH. + +Nekayah, being thus reconciled to herself, found, that no evil is +insupportable, but that which is accompanied with consciousness of +wrong. She was, from that time, delivered from the violence of +tempestuous sorrow, and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy +tranquillity. She sat, from morning to evening, recollecting all that +had been done or said by her Pekuah; treasured up, with care, every +trifle on which Pekuah had set an accidental value, and which might +recall to mind any little incident or careless conversation. The +sentiments of her, whom she now expected to see no more, were treasured +in her memory as rules of life, and she deliberated to no other end, +than to conjecture, on any occasion, what would have been the opinion +and counsel of Pekuah. + +The women, by whom she was attended, knew nothing of her real condition, +and, therefore, she could not talk to them, but with caution and +reserve. She began to remit her curiosity, having no great care to +collect notions which she had no convenience of uttering. Rasselas +endeavoured first to comfort, and afterwards to divert her; he hired +musicians, to whom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them, and +procured masters, to instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when +they visited her again, were again to be repeated. She had lost her +taste of pleasure, and her ambition of excellence. And her mind, though +forced into short excursions, always recurred to the image of her +friend. + +Imlac was, every morning, earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries, and +was asked, every night, whether he had yet heard of Pekuah, till, not +being able to return the princess the answer that she desired, he was +less and less willing to come into her presence. She observed his +backwardness, and commanded him to attend her. "You are not," said she, +"to confound impatience with resentment, or to suppose, that I charge +you with negligence, because I repine at your unsuccessfulness. I do not +much wonder at your absence; I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, +and that all naturally avoid the contagion of misery. To hear complaints +is wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy; for who would cloud, +by adventitious grief, the short gleams of gaiety which life allows us? +or who, that is struggling under his own evils, will add to them the +miseries of another? + +"The time is at hand, when none shall be disturbed any longer by the +sighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end. I am +resolved to retire from the world, with all its flatteries and deceits, +and will hide myself in solitude, without any other care than to compose +my thoughts, and regulate my hours by a constant succession of innocent +occupations, till, with a mind purified from all earthly desires, I +shall enter into that state, to which all are hastening, and in which I +hope again to enjoy the friendship of Pekuah." + +"Do not entangle your mind," said Imlac, "by irrevocable determinations, +nor increase the burden of life by a voluntary accumulation of misery: +the weariness of retirement will continue or increase, when the loss of +Pekuah is forgotten. That you have been deprived of one pleasure, is no +very good reason for rejection of the rest." + +"Since Pekuah was taken from me," said the princess, "I have no pleasure +to reject or to retain. She that has no one to love or trust has little +to hope. She wants the radical principle of happiness. We may, perhaps, +allow that what satisfaction this world can afford, must arise from the +conjunction of wealth, knowledge, and goodness. Wealth is nothing, but +as it is bestowed, and knowledge nothing, but as it is communicated: +they must, therefore, be imparted to others, and to whom could I now +delight to impart them? Goodness affords the only comfort, which can be +enjoyed without a partner, and goodness may be practised in retirement." + +"How far solitude may admit goodness, or advance it, I shall not," +replied Imlac, "dispute at present. Remember the confession of the pious +hermit. You will wish to return into the world, when the image of your +companion has left your thoughts." "That time," said Nekayah, "will +never come. The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness, and the +faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah, will always be more missed, as I +shall live longer to see vice and folly." + +"The state of a mind, oppressed with a sudden calamity," said Imlac, "is +like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new-created earth, who, +when the first night came upon them, supposed that day would never +return. When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond +them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet a new day +succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn of ease. +But they who restrain themselves from receiving comfort, do as the +savages would have done, had they put out their eyes when it was dark. +Our minds, like our bodies, are in continual flux; something is hourly +lost, and something acquired. To lose much, at once, is inconvenient to +either, but, while the vital powers remain uninjured, nature will find +the means of reparation. Distance has the same effect on the mind, as on +the eye, and, while we glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave +behind us, is always lessening, and that which we approach increasing in +magnitude. Do not suffer life to stagnate; it will grow muddy for want +of motion: commit yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah +will vanish by degrees; you will meet, in your way, some other +favourite, or learn to diffuse yourself in general conversation." + +"At least," said the prince, "do not despair before all remedies have +been tried; the inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued, +and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on condition that +you will promise to wait a year for the event, without any unalterable +resolution." + +Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her +brother, who had been advised, by Imlac, to require it. Imlac had, +indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah, but he supposed, that, if he +could secure the interval of a year, the princess would be then in no +danger of a cloister. + +CHAP. XXXVI. + +PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED. THE PROGRESS OF SORROW. + +Nekayah, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her +favourite, and having, by her promise, set her intention of retirement +at a distance, began, imperceptibly, to return to common cares, and +common pleasures. She rejoiced, without her own consent, at the +suspension of her sorrows, and sometimes caught herself, with +indignation, in the act of turning away her mind from the remembrance of +her, whom yet she resolved never to forget. + +She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the +merits and fondness of Pekuah, and, for some weeks, retired constantly, +at the time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen, and her +countenance clouded. By degrees, she grew less scrupulous, and suffered +any important and pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily +tears. She then yielded to less occasions; sometimes forgot what she +was, indeed, afraid to remember, and, at last, wholly released herself +from the duty of periodical affliction. + +Her real love of Pekuah was yet not diminished. A thousand occurrences +brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which nothing but the +confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted. She, +therefore, solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave no +art of intelligence untried, that, at least, she might have the comfort +of knowing, that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. "Yet, +what," said she, "is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when +we find the state of life to be such, that happiness itself is the cause +of misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that, of which the +possession cannot be secured? I shall, henceforward, fear to yield my +heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, +lest I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah." + +CHAP. XXXVII. + +THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH. + +In seven months, one of the messengers, who had been sent away, upon the +day when the promise was drawn from the princess, returned, after many +unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that +Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle, or +fortress, on the extremity of Egypt. The Arab, whose revenue was +plunder, was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, for two +hundred ounces of gold. + +The price was no subject of debate. The princess was in ecstasies when +she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply be +ransomed. She could not think of delaying, for a moment, Pekuah's +happiness or her own, but entreated her brother to send back the +messenger with the sum required. Imlac, being consulted, was not very +confident of the veracity of the relater, and was still more doubtful of +the Arab's faith, who might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain, +at once, the money and the captives. He thought it dangerous to put +themselves in the power of the Arab, by going into his district, and +could not expect that the rover would so much expose himself as to come +into the lower country, where he might be seized by the forces of the +bassa. + +It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac, after +some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose, that Pekuah should +be conducted, by ten horsemen, to the monastery of St. Anthony, which is +situated in the deserts of upper Egypt, where she should be met by the +same number, and her ransome should be paid. + +That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal would not +be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery; and, +when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messenger to the +Arab's fortress. Rasselas was desirous to go with them; but neither his +sister nor Imlac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom of his +nation, observed the laws of hospitality, with great exactness, to those +who put themselves into his power, and, in a few days, brought Pekuah, +with her maids, by easy journeys, to the place appointed, where, +receiving the stipulated price, he restored her, with great respect, to +liberty and her friends, and undertook to conduct them back towards +Cairo, beyond all danger of robbery or violence. + +The princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport, too +violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of +tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and +gratitude. After a few hours, they returned into the refectory of the +convent, where, in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the +prince required of Pekuah the history of her adventures. + +CHAP. XXXVIII. + +THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH. + +"At what time, and in what manner I was forced away," said Pekuah, "your +servants have told you. The suddenness of the event struck me with +surprise, and I was, at first, rather stupified, than agitated with any +passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was increased by the +speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed by the Turks, +who, as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of +those whom they made a show of menacing. + +"When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their +course, and, as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to +feel more uneasiness in my mind. After some time, we stopped near a +spring, shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set upon +the ground, and offered such refreshments, as our masters were +partaking. I was suffered to sit, with my maids, apart from the rest, +and none attempted to comfort or insult us. Here I first began to feel +the full weight of my misery. The girls sat weeping in silence, and, +from time to time, looked on me for succour. I knew not to what +condition we were doomed, nor could conjecture where would be the place +of our captivity, or whence to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in +the hands of robbers and savages, and had no reason to suppose, that +their pity was more than their justice, or that they would forbear the +gratification of any ardour of desire, or caprice of cruelty. I, +however, kissed my maids, and endeavoured to pacify them, by remarking, +that we were yet treated with decency, and that, since we were now +carried beyond pursuit, there was no danger of violence to our lives. + +"When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round me, and +refused to be parted, but I commanded them not to irritate those who had +us in their power. We travelled, the remaining part of the day, through +an unfrequented and pathless country, and came, by moonlight, to the +side of a hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed. Their tents +were pitched, and their fires kindled, and our chief was welcomed, as a +man much beloved by his dependants. + +"We were received into a large tent, where we found women, who had +attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us the +supper, which they had provided, and I ate rather to encourage my maids +than to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat was taken +away, they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hoped to +find, in sleep, that remission of distress which nature seldom denies. +Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I observed that the women +looked submissively attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they +were, apparently, struck with the splendour of my clothes, and one of +them timorously laid her hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, +and, in a short time, came back with another woman, who seemed to be of +higher rank and greater authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual +act of reverence, and, taking me by the hand, placed me in a smaller +tent, spread with finer carpets, where I spent the night quietly with my +maids. + +"In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troop +came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with great +respect. 'Illustrious lady,' said he, 'my fortune is better than I had +presumed to hope; I am told, by my women, that I have a princess in my +camp.' 'Sir,' answered I, 'your women have deceived themselves and you; +I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger, who intended soon to have +left this country, in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.' +'Whoever, or whencesoever, you are,' returned the Arab, 'your dress, and +that of your servants, show your rank to be high, and your wealth to be +great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransome, think +yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose of my incursions +is to increase my riches, or, more properly, to gather tribute. The sons +of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part of the +continent, which is usurped by late invaders, and low-born tyrants, from +whom we are compelled to take, by the sword, what is denied to justice. +The violence of war admits no distinction: the lance that is lifted at +guilt and power, will, sometimes, fall on innocence and gentleness.' + +"'How little,' said I, 'did I expect that yesterday it should have +fallen upon me!' + +"'Misfortunes,' answered the Arab, 'should always be expected. If the +eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence, like yours, +had been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread their +toils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the +mean. Do not be disconsolate: I am not one of the lawless and cruel +rovers of the desert; I know the rules of civil life: I will fix your +ransome, give a passport to your messenger, and perform my stipulation, +with nice punctuality.' + +"You will easily believe, that I was pleased with his courtesy: and, +finding, that his predominant passion was desire of money, I began now +to think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought too +great for the release of Pekuah. I told him, that he should have no +reason to charge me with ingratitude, if I was used with kindness, and +that any ransome, which could be expected for a maid of common rank, +would be paid; but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He +said he would consider what he should demand, and then, smiling, bowed +and retired. + +"Soon after the women came about me, each contending to be more +officious than the other, and my maids, themselves, were served with +reverence. We travelled onwards by short journeys. On the fourth day the +chief told me, that my ransome must be two hundred ounces of gold; which +I not only promised him, but told him, that I would add fifty more, if I +and my maids were honourably treated. + +"I never knew the power of gold before. From that time, I was the leader +of the troop. The march of every day was longer, or shorter, as I +commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest. We now had +camels, and other conveniencies for travel; my own women were always at +my side, and I amused myself with observing the manners of the vagrant +nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices, with which these +deserted countries appear to have been, in some distant age, lavishly +embellished. + +"The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able to +travel by the stars, or the compass, and had marked, in his erratick +expeditions, such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger. +He observed to me, that buildings are always best preserved in places +little frequented, and difficult of access: for, when once a country +declines from its primitive splendour, the more inhabitants are left, +the quicker ruin will be made. Walls supply stones more easily than +quarries, and palaces and temples will be demolished, to make stables of +granite, and cottages of porphyry. + +CHAP. XXXIX. + +THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH CONTINUED. + +"We wandered about, in this manner, for some weeks, whether, as our +chief pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for +some convenience of his own. I endeavoured to appear contented, where +sullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and that endeavour +conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart was always with +Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much overbalanced the amusements +of the day. My women, who threw all their cares upon their mistress, set +their minds at ease, from the time when they saw me treated with +respect, and gave themselves up to the incidental alleviations of our +fatigue, without solicitude or sorrow. I was pleased with their +pleasure, and animated with their confidence. My condition had lost much +of its terrour, since I found that the Arab ranged the country merely to +get riches. Avarice is an uniform and tractable vice: other intellectual +distempers are different in different constitutions of mind; that which +sooths the pride of one, will offend the pride of another; but to the +favour of the covetous, there is a ready way: bring money, and nothing +is denied. + +"At last we came to the dwelling of our chief, a strong and spacious +house, built with stone, in an island of the Nile, which lies, as I was +told, under the tropick. 'Lady,' said the Arab, 'you shall rest, after +your journey, a few weeks, in this place, where you are to consider +yourself as sovereign. My occupation is war; I have, therefore, chosen +this obscure residence, from which I can issue unexpected, and to which +I can retire unpursued. You may now repose in security: here are few +pleasures, but here is no danger.' He then led me into the inner +apartments, and seating me on the richest couch, bowed to the ground. +His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me with malignity; +but, being soon informed that I was a great lady, detained only for my +ransome, they began to vie with each other in obsequiousness and +reverence. + +"Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty, I was, for +some days, diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place. The +turrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and afforded a view +of many windings of the stream. In the day, I wandered from one place to +another, as the course of the sun varied the splendour of the prospect, +and saw many things which I had never seen before. The crocodiles and +river-horses, are common in this unpeopled region, and I often looked +upon them with terrour, though I knew that they could not hurt me. For +some time I expected to see mermaids and tritons, which, as Imlac has +told me, the European travellers have stationed in the Nile, but no such +beings ever appeared, and the Arab, when I inquired after them, laughed +at my credulity. + +"At night the Arab always attended me to a tower, set apart for +celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names and +courses of the stars. I had no great inclination to this study, but an +appearance of attention was necessary to please my instructer, who +valued himself for his skill; and, in a little while, I found some +employment requisite to beguile the tediousness of time, which was to be +passed always amidst the same objects. I was weary of looking in the +morning, on things from which I had turned away weary in the evening. I, +therefore, was, at last, willing to observe the stars, rather than do +nothing, but could not always compose my thoughts, and was very often +thinking on Nekayah, when others imagined me contemplating the sky. Soon +after the Arab went upon another expedition, and then my only pleasure +was to talk with my maids, about the accident by which we were carried +away, and the happiness that we should all enjoy at the end of our +captivity." + +"There were women in your Arab's fortress," said the princess, "why did +you not make them your companions, enjoy their conversation, and partake +their diversions'? In a place, where they found business or amusement, +why should you alone sit corroded with idle melancholy? or, why could +not you bear, for a few months, that condition to which they were +condemned for life?" + +"The diversions of the women," answered Pekuah, "were only childish +play, by which the mind, accustomed to stronger operations, could not be +kept busy. I could do all which they delighted in doing by powers merely +sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were flown to Cairo. They +ran, from room to room, as a bird hops, from wire to wire, in his cage. +They danced for the sake of motion, as lambs frisk in a meadow. One +sometimes pretended to be hurt, that the rest might be alarmed; or hid +herself, that another might seek her. Part of their time passed in +watching the progress of light bodies, that floated on the river, and +part, in marking the various forms into which clouds broke in the sky. + +"Their business was only needlework in which I and my maids, sometimes +helped them; but you know that the mind will easily straggle from the +fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and absence from Nekayah +could receive solace from silken flowers. + +"Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation: for of +what could they be expected to talk? They had seen nothing; for they had +lived, from early youth, in that narrow spot: of what they had not seen +they could have no knowledge, for they could not read. They had no ideas +but of the few things that were within their view, and had hardly names +for any thing but their clothes and their food. As I bore a superiour +character, I was often called to terminate their quarrels, which I +decided as equitably as I could. If it could have amused me to hear the +complaints of each against the rest, I might have been often detained by +long stories; but the motives of their animosity were so small, that I +could not listen without intercepting the tale." + +"How," said Rasselas, "can the Arab, whom you represented as a man of +more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in his seraglio, +when it is filled only with women like these? Are they exquisitely +beautiful?" + +"They do not," said Pekuah, "want that unaffecting and ignoble beauty, +which may subsist without sprightliness or sublimity, without energy of +thought, or dignity of virtue. But to a man, like the Arab, such beauty +was only a flower, casually plucked, and carelessly thrown away. +Whatever pleasures he might find among them, they were not those of +friendship or society. When they were playing about him, he looked on +them with inattentive superiority: when they vied for his regard, he +sometimes turned away disgusted. As they had no knowledge, their talk +could take nothing from the tediousness of life; as they had no choice, +their fondness, or appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pride +nor gratitude; he was not exalted in his own esteem by the smiles of a +woman, who saw no other man, nor was much obliged by that regard, of +which he could never know the sincerity, and which he might often +perceive to be exerted, not so much to delight him, as to pain a rival. +That which he gave, and they received, as love, was only a careless +distribution of superfluous time, such love as man can bestow upon that +which he despises, such as has neither hope nor fear, neither joy nor +sorrow." + +"You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy," said Imlac, "that you +have been thus easily dismissed. How could a mind, hungry for knowledge, +be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a banquet as +Pekuah's conversation?" + +"I am inclined to believe," answered Pekuah, "that he was, for sometime, +in suspense; for, notwithstanding his promise, whenever I proposed to +despatch a messenger to Cairo, he found some excuse for delay. While I +was detained in his house, he made many incursions into the neighbouring +countries, and, perhaps, he would have refused to discharge me, had his +plunder been equal to his wishes. He returned always courteous, related +his adventures, delighted to hear my observations, and endeavoured to +advance my acquaintance with the stars. When I importuned him to send +away my letters, he soothed me with professions of honour and sincerity; +and, when I could be no longer decently denied, put his troop again in +motion, and left me to govern in his absence. I was much afflicted by +this studied procrastination, and was sometimes afraid, that I should be +forgotten; that you would leave Cairo, and I must end my days in an +island of the Nile. + +"I grew, at last, hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to +entertain him, that he, for awhile, more frequently talked with my +maids. That he should fall in love with them, or with me, might have +been equally fatal, and I was not much pleased with the growing +friendship. My anxiety was not long; for, as I recovered some degree of +cheerfulness, he returned to me, and I could not forbear to despise my +former uneasiness. + +"He still delayed to send for my ransome, and would, perhaps, never have +determined, had not your agent found his way to him. The gold, which he +would not fetch, he could not reject, when it was offered. He hastened +to prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered from the pain of +an intestine conflict. I took leave of my companions in the house, who +dismissed me with cold indifference." + +Nekayah, having heard her favourite's relation, rose and embraced her, +and Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold, which she presented to +the Arab for the fifty that were promised. + +CHAP. XL. + +THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING. + +They returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at finding themselves +together, that none of them went much abroad. The prince began to love +learning, and, one day, declared to Imlac, that he intended to devote +himself to science, and pass the rest of his days in literary solitude. + +"Before you make your final choice," answered Imlac, "you ought to +examine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are grown old +in the company of themselves. I have just left the observatory of one of +the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty years in +unwearied attention to the motions and appearances of the celestial +bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless calculations. He admits a +few friends, once a month, to hear his deductions, and enjoy his +discoveries. I was introduced, as a man of knowledge worthy of his +notice. Men of various ideas, and fluent conversation, are commonly +welcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a single +point, and who find the images of other things stealing away. I +delighted him with my remarks; he smiled at the narrative of my travels, +and was glad to forget the constellations, and descend, for a moment, +into the lower world. + +"On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so fortunate as +to please him again. He relaxed, from that time, the severity of his +rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice. I found him always +busy, and always glad to be relieved. As each knew much which the other +was desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions with great delight. I +perceived that I had, every day, more of his confidence, and always +found new cause of admiration in the profundity of his mind. His +comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourse +is methodical, and his expression clear. + +"His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning. His deepest +researches, and most favourite studies, are willingly interrupted for +any opportunity of doing good, by his counsel or his riches. To his +closest retreat, at his most busy moments, all are admitted that want +his assistance: 'For, though I exclude idleness and pleasure, I will +never,' says he, bar my doors against charity. To man is permitted the +contemplation of the skies, but the practice of virtue is commanded.'" + +"Surely," said the princess, "this man is happy." + +"I visited him," said Imlac, "with more and more frequency, and was +every time more enamoured of his conversation: he was sublime without +haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative without +ostentation. I was, at first, great princess, of your opinion; thought +him the happiest of mankind; and often congratulated him on the blessing +that he enjoyed. He seemed to hear nothing with indifference but the +praises of his condition, to which he always returned a general answer, +and diverted the conversation to some other topick. + +"Amidst this willingness to be pleased, and labour to please, I had, +quickly, reason to imagine, that some painful sentiment pressed upon his +mind. He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let his voice +fall in the midst of his discourse. He would sometimes, when we were +alone, gaze upon me, in silence, with the air of a man, who longed to +speak what he was yet resolved to suppress. He would often send for me, +with vehement injunctions of haste, though, when I came to him, he had +nothing extraordinary to say. And sometimes, when I was leaving him, +would call me back, pause a few moments, and then dismiss me." + +CHAP. XLI. + +THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS. + +"At last the time came, when the secret burst his reserve. We were +sitting together, last night, in the turret of his house, watching the +emersion of a satellite of Jupiter. A sudden tempest clouded the sky, +and disappointed our observation. We sat awhile silent in the dark, and +then he addressed himself to me in these words: 'Imlac, I have long +considered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of my life. +Integrity, without knowledge, is weak and useless; and knowledge, +without integrity, is dangerous and dreadful. I have found in thee all +the qualities requisite for trust--benevolence, experience, and +fortitude. I have long discharged an office, which I must soon quit at +the call of nature, and shall rejoice, in the hour of imbecility and +pain, to devolve it upon thee.' + +"I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested, that +whatever could conduce to his happiness, would add likewise to mine. + +"'Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not, without difficulty, credit. I have +possessed, for five years, the regulation of weather, and the +distribution of the seasons: the sun has listened to my dictates, and +passed, from tropick to tropick, by my direction; the clouds, at my +call, have poured their waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my +command; I have restrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the +fervours of the crab. The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, +have, hitherto, refused my authority, and multitudes have perished by +equinoctial tempests, which I found myself unable to prohibit or +restrain. I have administered this great office with exact justice, and +made, to the different nations of the earth, an impartial dividend of +rain and sunshine. What must have been the misery of half the globe, if +I had limited the clouds to particular regions, or confined the sun to +either side of the equator!' + +CHAP. XLII. + +THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED. + +"I suppose he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room, some +tokens of amazement and doubt, for, after a short pause, he proceeded +thus: + +"'Not to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend me; for I +am, probably, the first of human beings to whom this trust has been +imparted. Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction a reward or +punishment; since I have possessed it, I have been far less happy than +before, and nothing but the consciousness of good intention could have +enabled me to support the weariness of unremitted vigilance.' + +"How long, sir, said I, has this great office been in your hands?" + +"'About ten years ago,' said he, 'my daily observations of the changes +of the sky, led me to consider, whether, if I had the power of the +seasons, I could confer greater plenty upon the inhabitants of the +earth. This contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat, days and +nights, in imaginary dominion, pouring, upon this country and that, the +showers of fertility, and seconding every fall of rain with a due +proportion of sunshine. I had yet only the will to do good, and did not +imagine that I should ever have the power. + +"'One day, as I was looking on the fields withering with heat, I felt, +in my mind, a sudden wish that I could send rain on the southern +mountains, and raise the Nile to an inundation. In the hurry of my +imagination, I commanded rain to fall, and, by comparing the time of my +command with that of the inundation, I found, that the clouds had +listened to my lips.' + +"Might not some other cause," said I, "produce this concurrence? the +Nile does not always rise on the same day. + +"'Do not believe,' said he, with impatience, 'that such objections could +escape me: I reasoned long against my own conviction, and laboured +against truth with the utmost obstinacy. I sometimes suspected myself of +madness, and should not have dared to impart this secret, but to a man +like you, capable of distinguishing the wonderful from the impossible, +and the incredible from the false.' + +"Why, sir," said I, "do you call that incredible, which you know, or +think you know, to be true? + +"'Because,' said he, 'I cannot prove it by any external evidence; and I +know, too well, the laws of demonstration, to think that my conviction +ought to influence another, who cannot, like me, be conscious of its +force. I, therefore, shall not attempt to gain credit by disputation. It +is sufficient, that I feel this power, that I have long possessed, and +every day exerted it. But the life of man is short, the infirmities of +age increase upon me, and the time will soon come, when the regulator of +the year must mingle with the dust. The care of appointing a successour +has long disturbed me; the night and the day have been spent in +comparisons of all the characters which have come to my knowledge, and I +have yet found none so worthy as thyself.' + +CHAP. XLIII. + +THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS. + +"'Hear, therefore, what I shall impart, with attention, such as the +welfare of the world requires. If the task of a king be considered as +difficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot do +much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him, on whom depends the +action of the elements, and the great gifts of light and heat!--Hear me, +therefore, with attention. + +"'I have diligently considered the position of the earth and sun, and +formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed their situation. I have +sometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes varied the +ecliptick of the sun: but I have found it impossible to make a +disposition, by which the world may be advantaged; what one region +gains, another loses by an imaginable alteration, even without +considering the distant parts of the solar system, with which ye are +unacquainted. Do not, therefore, in thy administration of the year, +indulge thy pride by innovation; do not please thyself with thinking, +that thou canst make thyself renowned to all future ages, by disordering +the seasons. The memory of mischief is no desirable fame. Much less will +it become thee to let kindness or interest prevail. Never rob other +countries of rain to pour it on thine own. For us the Nile is +sufficient.' + +"I promised, that when I possessed the power, I would use it with +inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my hand. 'My heart,' +said he, 'will be now at rest, and my benevolence will no more destroy +my quiet: I have found a man of wisdom and virtue, to whom I can +cheerfully bequeath the inheritance of the sun.'" + +The prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but the +princess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter. "Ladies," +said Imlac, "to mock the heaviest of human afflictions, is neither +charitable nor wise. Few can attain this man's knowledge, and few +practise his virtues; but all may suffer his calamity. Of the +uncertainties of our present state, the most dreadful and alarming is +the uncertain continuance of reason." + +The princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed. Rasselas, +more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac, whether he thought such +maladies of the mind frequent, and how they were contracted. + +CHAP. XLIV. + +THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION. + +"Disorders of intellect," answered Imlac, "happen much more often than +superficial observers will easily believe. Perhaps, if we speak with +rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right state[a]. There is no +man, whose imagination does not, sometimes, predominate over his reason, +who can regulate his attention wholly by his will, and whose ideas will +come and go at his command. No man will be found, in whose mind airy +notions do not, sometimes, tyrannize, and force him to hope or fear +beyond the limits of sober probability. All power of fancy over reason, +is a degree of insanity; but, while this power is such as we can control +and repress, it is not visible to others, nor considered as any +deprivation of the mental faculties: it is not pronounced madness, but +when it becomes ungovernable, and apparently influences speech or +action. + +"To indulge the power of fiction, and send imagination out upon the +wing, is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent +speculation. When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour of +excogitation is too violent to last long; the ardour of inquiry will, +sometimes, give way to idleness or satiety. He who has nothing external +that can divert him, must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must +conceive himself what he is not; for who is pleased with what he is? He +then expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls, from all imaginable +conditions, that which, for the present moment, he should most desire; +amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers upon his +pride unattainable dominion. The mind dances from scene to scene, unites +all pleasures in all combinations, and riots in delights, which nature +and fortune, with all their bounty, cannot bestow. + +"In time, some particular train of ideas fixes the attention; all other +intellectual gratifications are rejected; the mind, in weariness or +leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts on +the luscious falsehood, whenever she is offended with the bitterness of +truth. By degrees, the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first +imperious, and in time despotick. Then fictions begin to operate as +realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in +dreams of rapture or of anguish. + +"This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit has +confessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomer's misery +has proved to be not always propitious to wisdom." + +"I will no more," said the favourite, "imagine myself the queen of +Abissinia. I have often spent the hours, which the princess gave to my +own disposal, in adjusting ceremonies, and regulating the court; I have +repressed the pride of the powerful, and granted the petitions of the +poor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations, planted groves +upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence of +royalty, till, when the princess entered, I had almost forgotten to bow +down before her." + +"And I," said the princess, "will not allow myself any more to play the +shepherdess in my waking dreams. I have often soothed my thoughts with +the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments, till I have, in my +chamber, heard the winds whistle, and the sheep bleat: sometimes freed +the lamb entangled in the thicket, and, sometimes, with my crook, +encountered the wolf. I have a dress like that of the village maids, +which I put on to help my imagination, and a pipe, on which I play +softly, and suppose myself followed by my flocks." + +"I will confess," said the prince, "an indulgence of fantastick delight +more dangerous than yours. I have frequently endeavoured to image the +possibility of a perfect government, by which all wrong should be +restrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects preserved in +tranquillity and innocence. This thought produced innumerable schemes of +reformation, and dictated many useful regulations and salutary edicts. +This has been the sport, and sometimes the labour, of my solitude; and I +start, when I think, with how little anguish I once supposed the death +of my father and my brothers." + +"Such," said Imlac, "are the effects of visionary schemes; when we first +form them, we know them to be absurd, but familiarize them by degrees, +and, in time, lose sight of their folly." + +[a] See Traite Medico-philosophique sur l'Alienation Mentale, par +Pinel. Dr. Willis defined, in remarkable accordance with this case +in Rasselas, insanity to be the tendency of a mind to cherish one +idea, or one set of ideas, to the exclusion of others.--ED. + +CHAP. XLV. + +THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN. + +The evening was now far past, and they rose to return home. As they +walked along the bank of the Nile, delighted with the beams of the moon +quivering on the water, they saw, at a small distance, an old man, whom +the prince had often heard in the assembly of the sages. "Yonder," said +he, "is one whose years have calmed his passions, but not clouded his +reason: let us close the disquisitions of the night, by inquiring, what +are his sentiments of his own state, that we may know whether youth +alone is to struggle with vexation, and whether any better hope remains +for the latter part of life." + +Here the sage approached and saluted them. They invited him to join +their walk, and prattled awhile, as acquaintance that had unexpectedly +met one another. The old man was cheerful and talkative, and the way +seemed short in his company. He was pleased to find himself not +disregarded, accompanied them to their house, and, at the prince's +request, entered with them. They placed him in the seat of honour, and +set wine and conserves before him. "Sir," said the princess, "an evening +walk must give, to a man of learning, like you, pleasures which +ignorance and youth can hardly conceive. You know the qualities and the +causes of all that you behold, the laws by which the river flows, the +periods in which the planets perform their revolutions. Every thing must +supply you with contemplation, and renew the consciousness of your own +dignity." + +"Lady," answered he, "let the gay and the vigorous expect pleasure in +their excursions; it is enough that age can obtain ease. To me, the +world has lost its novelty: I look round, and see what I remember to +have seen in happier days. I rest against a tree, and consider, that in +the same shade I once disputed upon the annual overflow of the Nile, +with a friend who is now silent in the grave. I cast my eyes upwards, +fix them on the changing moon, and think, with pain, on the vicissitudes +of life. I have ceased to take much delight in physical truth; for what +have I to do with those things which I am soon to leave?" + +"You may, at least, recreate yourself," said Imlac, "with the +recollection of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise +which all agree to give you." + +"Praise," said the sage, with a sigh, "is, to an old man, an empty +sound. I have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation of her +son, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband. I have outlived my +friends and my rivals. Nothing is now of much importance; for I cannot +extend my interest beyond myself. Youth is delighted with applause, +because it is considered, as the earnest of some future good, and +because the prospect of life is far extended; but to me, who am now +declining to decrepitude, there is little to be feared from the +malevolence of men, and yet less to be hoped from their affection or +esteem. Something they may yet take away, but they can give me nothing. +Riches would now be useless, and high employment would be pain. My +retrospect of life recalls to my view many opportunities of good +neglected, much time squandered upon trifles, and more lost in idleness +and vacancy. I leave many great designs unattempted, and many great +attempts unfinished. My mind is burdened with no heavy crime, and, +therefore, I compose myself to tranquillity; endeavour to abstract my +thoughts from hopes and cares, which, though reason knows them to be +vain, still try to keep their old possession of the heart; expect, with +serene humility, that hour which nature cannot long delay; and hope to +possess, in a better state, that happiness, which here I could not find, +and that virtue, which here I have not attained." + +He rose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with the +hope of long life. The prince consoled himself with remarking, that it +was not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for age had never +been considered as the season of felicity, and, if it was possible to be +easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour and +alacrity might be happy; that the noon of life might be bright, if the +evening could be calm. + +The princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, and +delighted to repress the expectations of those, who had newly entered +the world. She had seen the possessours of estates look with envy on +their heirs, and known many who enjoyed pleasure no longer than they +could confine it to themselves. + +Pekuah conjectured, that the man was older than he appeared, and was +willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection: or else +supposed that he had been unfortunate, and was, therefore, discontented: +"For nothing," said she, "is more common than to call our own condition, +the condition of life." + +Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the comforts +which they could so readily procure to themselves, and remembered, that, +at the same age, he was equally confident of unmingled prosperity, and +equally fertile of consolatory expedients. He forbore to force upon them +unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon impress. The +princess and her lady retired; the madness of the astronomer hung on +their minds, and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and delay +next morning, the rising of the sun. + +CHAP. XLVI. + +THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER. + +The princess and Pekuah having talked in private of Imlac's astronomer, +thought his character at once so amiable and so strange, that they could +not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge; and Imlac was requested to +find the means of bringing them together. + +This was somewhat difficult; the philosopher had never received any +visits from women, though he lived in a city that had in it many +Europeans, who followed the manners of their own countries, and many, +from other parts of the world, that lived there with European liberty. +The ladies would not be refused, and several schemes were proposed for +the accomplishment of their design. It was proposed to introduce them as +strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible; but, +after some deliberation, it appeared, that by this artifice, no +acquaintance could be formed, for their conversation would be short, and +they could not decently importune him often. "This," said Rasselas, "is +true; but I have yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation +of your state. I have always considered it as treason against the great +republick of human nature, to make any man's virtues the means of +deceiving him, whether on great or little occasions. All imposture +weakens confidence, and chills benevolence. When the sage finds that you +are not what you seemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man +who, conscious of great abilities, discovers that he has been tricked by +understandings meaner than his own, and, perhaps, the distrust, which he +can never afterwards wholly lay aside, may stop the voice of counsel, +and close the hand of charity; and where will you find the power of +restoring his benefactions to mankind, or his peace to himself?" + +To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their +curiosity would subside; but, next day, Pekuah told him, she had now +found an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she would +solicit permission to continue, under him, the studies in which she had +been initiated by the Arab, and the princess might go with her, either +as a fellow-student, or because a woman could not decently come alone. +"I am afraid," said Imlac, "that he will be soon weary of your company: +men, advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the elements of +their art, and I am not certain that even of the elements, as he will +deliver them, connected with inferences, and mingled with reflections, +you are a very capable auditress." "That," said Pekuah, "must be my +care: I ask of you only to take me thither. My knowledge is, perhaps, +more than you imagine it, and, by concurring always with his opinions, I +shall make him think it greater than it is." + +The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told, that a +foreign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his +reputation, and was desirous to become his scholar. The uncommonness of +the proposal raised, at once, his surprise and curiosity; and when, +after a short deliberation, he consented to admit her, he could not +stay, without impatience, till the next day. + +The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by Imlac +to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached with +respect by persons of so splendid an appearance. In the exchange of the +first civilities, he was timorous and bashful; but, when the talk became +regular, he recollected his powers, and justified the character which +Imlac had given. Inquiring of Pekuah, what could have turned her +inclination toward astronomy, he received from her a history of her +adventure at the pyramid, and of the time passed in the Arab's island. +She told her tale with ease and elegance, and her conversation took +possession of his heart. The discourse was then turned to astronomy; +Pekuah displayed what she knew: he looked upon her as a prodigy of +genius, and entreated her not to desist from a study, which she had so +happily begun. + +They came again and again, and were, every time, more welcome than +before. The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might prolong +their visits, for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company; +the clouds of solicitude vanished by degrees, as he forced himself to +entertain them, and he grieved, when he was left, at their departure, to +his old employment of regulating the seasons. + +The princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for several +months, and could not catch a single word, from which they could judge +whether he continued, or not, in the opinion of his preternatural +commission. They often contrived to bring him to an open declaration; +but he easily eluded all their attacks, and on which side soever they +pressed him, escaped from them to some other topick. + +As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house of +Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect. He began, +gradually, to delight in sublunary pleasures. He came early, and +departed late; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity and +compliance; excited their curiosity after new arts, that they might +still want his assistance; and, when they made any excursion of +pleasure, or inquiry, entreated to attend them. + +By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the prince and his +sister were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and, lest +he should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received, +discovered to him their condition, with the motives of their journey; +and required his opinion on the CHOICE OF LIFE. + +"Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you, which you +shall prefer," said the sage, "I am not able to instruct you. I can only +tell, that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in study, without +experience; in the attainment of sciences, which can, for the most part, +be but remotely useful to mankind. I have purchased knowledge at the +expense of all the common comforts of life: I have missed the endearing +elegance of female friendship, and the happy commerce of domestick +tenderness. If I have obtained any prerogatives above other students, +they have been accompanied with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but, +even of these prerogatives, whatever they were, I have, since my +thoughts have been diversified by more intercourse with the world, begun +to question the reality. When I have been, for a few days, lost in +pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that my inquiries +have ended in errour, and that I have suffered much, and suffered it in +vain." + +Imlac was delighted to find that the sage's understanding was breaking +through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planets, till he +should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recover its +original influence. + +From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship, and +partook of all their projects and pleasures: his respect kept him +attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much time +unengaged. Something was always to be done; the day was spent in making +observations which furnished talk for the evening, and the evening was +closed with a scheme for the morrow. + +The sage confessed to Imlac, that since he had mingled in the gay +tumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, he +found the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually from +his mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never could +prove to others, and which he now found subject to variation, from +causes in which reason had no part. "If I am accidentally left alone for +a few hours," said he, "my inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, +and my thoughts are chained down by some irresistible violence; but they +are soon disentangled by the prince's conversation, and instantaneously +released at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually afraid of +spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread which +harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels again +the terrours which he knows, that when it is light he shall feel no +more. But I am sometimes afraid, lest I indulge my quiet by criminal +negligence, and voluntarily forget the great charge with which I am +intrusted. If I favour myself in a known errour, or am determined, by my +own ease, in a doubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my +crime!" + +"No disease of the imagination," answered Imlac, "is so difficult of +cure, as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt: fancy and +conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift their +places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the +dictates of the other. If fancy presents images not moral or religious, +the mind drives them away when they give it pain, but when melancholick +notions take the form of duty, they lay hold on the faculties without +opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or banish them. For this +reason, the superstitious are often melancholy, and the melancholy +almost always superstitious. + +"But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better +reason: the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of the +obligation, which, when you consider it with freedom, you find very +little, and that little growing every day less. Open your heart to the +influence of the light, which, from time to time, breaks in upon you: +when scruples importune you, which you, in your lucid moments know to be +vain, do not stand to parley, but fly to business or to Pekuah, and keep +this thought always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass of +humanity, and have neither such virtue nor vice, as that you should be +singled out for supernatural favours or afflictions." + +CHAP. XLVII. + +THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPICK. + +"All this," said the astronomer, "I have often thought, but my reason +has been so long subjugated by an uncontroulable and overwhelming idea, +that it durst not confide in its own decisions. I now see how fatally I +betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon me in secret; but +melancholy shrinks from communication, and I never found a man before, +to whom I could impart my troubles, though I had been certain of relief. +I rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not +easily deceived, and can have no motive or purpose to deceive. I hope +that time and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so long +surrounded me, and the latter part of my days will be spent in peace." + +"Your learning and virtue," said Imlac, "may justly give you hopes." + +Rasselas then entered with the princess and Pekuah, and inquired, +whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day? "Such," +said Nekayah, "is the state of life, that none are happy, but by the +anticipation of change: the change itself is nothing: when we have made +it, the next wish is to change again. The world is not yet exhausted; +let me see something to-morrow, which I never saw before." + +"Variety," said Rasselas, "is so necessary to content, that even the +happy valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries; yet I could +not forbear to reproach myself with impatience, when I saw the monks of +St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life not of uniform delight, +but uniform hardship." + +"Those men," answered Imlac, "are less wretched in their silent convent, +than the Abissinian princes in their prison of pleasure. Whatever is +done by the monks is incited by an adequate and reasonable motive. Their +labour supplies them with necessaries; it, therefore, cannot be omitted, +and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them for another +state, and reminds them of its approach, while it fits them for it. +Their time is regularly distributed; one duty succeeds another, so that +they are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost +in the shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be +performed at an appropriated hour; and their toils are cheerful, because +they consider them as acts of piety, by which they are always advancing +towards endless felicity." + +"Do you think," said Nekayah, "that the monastick rule is a more holy +and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope for +future happiness, who converses openly with mankind, who succours the +distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and +contributes, by his industry, to the general system of life: even though +he should omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the +cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights, as his condition may +place within his reach." + +"This," said Imlac, "is a question which has long divided the wise, and +perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He that lives +well in the world, is better than he that lives well in a monastery. +But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the temptations of publick +life; and, if he cannot conquer, he may properly retreat. Some have +little power to do good, and have, likewise, little strength to resist +evil. Many are weary of their conflicts with adversity, and are willing +to eject those passions which have long busied them in vain. And many +are dismissed, by age and disease, from the more laborious duties of +society. In monasteries, the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, +the weary may repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of +prayer and contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man, +that, perhaps, there is scarcely one that does not propose to close his +life in pious abstraction with a few associates, serious as himself." + +"Such," said Pekuah, "has often been my wish; and I have heard the +princess declare, that she should not willingly die in a crowd." + +"The liberty of using harmless pleasures," proceeded Imlac, "will not be +disputed; but it is still to be examined, what pleasures are harmless. +The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image, is not in the act +itself, but in its consequences. Pleasure, in itself harmless, may +become mischievous, by endearing to us a state which we know to be +transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that, of +which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning, and of which no +length of time will bring us to the end. Mortification is not virtuous +in itself, nor has any other use, but that it disengages us from the +allurements of sense. In the state of future perfection, to which we all +aspire, there will be pleasure without danger, and security without +restraint." + +The princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer, asked +him, whether he could not delay her retreat, by showing her something +which she had not seen before. + +"Your curiosity," said the sage, "has been so general, and your pursuit +of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very easily to be +found; but what you can no longer procure from the living, may be given +by the dead. Among the wonders of this country are the catacombs, or the +ancient repositories, in which the bodies of the earliest generations +were lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums which embalmed them, +they yet remain without corruption." + +"I know not," said Rasselas, "what pleasure the sight of the catacombs +can afford; but, since nothing else offers, I am resolved to view them, +and shall place this with many other things which I have done, because I +would do something." + +They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the catacombs. +When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves, "Pekuah," +said the princess, "we are now again invading the habitations of the +dead: I know that you will stay behind; let me find you safe when I +return." "No, I will not be left," answered Pekuah; "I will go down +between you and the prince." + +They then all descended, and roved, with wonder, through the labyrinth +of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rows on either +side. + +CHAP. XLVIII. + +IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL. + +"What reason," said the prince, "can be given, why the Egyptians should +thus expensively preserve those carcasses which some nations consume +with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all agree to remove +from their sight, as soon as decent rites can be performed?" + +"The original of ancient customs," said Imlac "is commonly unknown; for +the practice often continues when the cause has ceased; and, concerning +superstitious ceremonies, it is vain to conjecture; for what reason did +not dictate, reason cannot explain. I have long believed that the +practice of embalming arose only from tenderness to the remains of +relations or friends; and to this opinion I am more inclined, because it +seems impossible that this care should have been general: had all the +dead been embalmed, their repositories must, in time, have been more +spacious than the dwellings of the living. I suppose only the rich or +honourable were secured from corruption, and the rest left to the course +of nature. + +"But it is commonly supposed, that the Egyptians believed the soul to +live as long as the body continued undissolved, and, therefore, tried +this method of eluding death." + +"Could the wise Egyptians," said Nekayah, "think so grossly of the soul? +If the soul could once survive its separation, what could it afterwards +receive or suffer from the body?" + +"The Egyptians would, doubtless, think erroneously," said the +astronomer, "in the darkness of heathenism, and the first dawn of +philosophy. The nature of the soul is still disputed, amidst all our +opportunities of clearer knowledge; some yet say, that it may be +material, who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal." + +"Some," answered Imlac, "have, indeed, said, that the soul is material, +but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it, who knew how to +think; for all the conclusions of reason enforce the immateriality of +mind, and all the notices of sense and investigations of science concur +to prove the unconsciousness of matter. + +"It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter, or that +every particle is a thinking being. Yet, if any part of matter be devoid +of thought, what part can we suppose to think? Matter can differ from +matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion: to +which of these, however varied or combined, can consciousness be +annexed? To be round or square, to be solid or fluid, to be great or +little, to be moved slowly or swiftly one way or another, are modes of +material existence, all equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If +matter be once without thought, it can only be made to think by some new +modification, but all the modifications which it can admit, are equally +unconnected with cogitative powers." + +"But the materialists," said the astronomer, "urge, that matter may have +qualities, with which we are unacquainted." + +"He who will determine," returned Imlac, "against that which he knows, +because there may be something, which he knows not; he that can set +hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is not to be +admitted among reasonable beings. All that we know of matter is, that +matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and, if this conviction cannot +be opposed but by referring us to something that we know not, we have +all the evidence that human intellect can admit. If that which is known +may be overruled by that which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, can +arrive at certainty." + +"Yet let us not," said the astronomer, "too arrogantly limit the +creator's power." + +"It is no limitation of omnipotence," replied the poet, "to suppose that +one thing is not consistent with another; that the same proposition +cannot be, at once, true and false; that the same number cannot be even +and odd; that cogitation cannot be conferred on that which is created +incapable of cogitation." + +"I know not," said Nekayah, "any great use of this question. Does that +immateriality, which, in my opinion, you have sufficiently proved, +necessarily include eternal duration?" + +"Of immateriality," said Imlac, "our ideas are negative, and, therefore, +obscure. Immateriality seems to imply a natural power of perpetual +duration, as a consequence of exemption from all causes of decay: +whatever perishes is destroyed by the solution of its contexture, and +separation of its parts; nor can we conceive how that which has no +parts, and, therefore, admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted or +impaired." + +"I know not," said Rasselas, "how to conceive any thing without +extension; what is extended must have parts, and you allow, that +whatever has parts may be destroyed." + +"Consider your own conceptions," replied Imlac, "and the difficulty will +be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal form is no +less real than material bulk: yet an ideal form has no extension. It is +no less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind possesses +the idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid itself is standing. What +space does the idea of a pyramid occupy more than the idea of a grain of +corn? or how can either idea suffer laceration? As is the effect, such +is the cause: as thought, such is the power that thinks; a power +impassive and indiscerptible." + +"But the being," said Nekayah, "whom I fear to name, the being which +made the soul, can destroy it." + +"He, surely, can destroy it," answered Imlac, "since, however +unperishable, it receives from a superiour nature its power of duration. +That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay, or principle of +corruption, may be shown by philosophy; but philosophy can tell no more. +That it will not be annihilated by him that made it, we must humbly +learn from higher authority." + +The whole assembly stood, awhile, silent and collected. "Let us return," +said Rasselas, "from this scene of mortality. How gloomy would be these +mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he should never die; +that what now acts shall continue its agency, and what now thinks shall +think on for ever. Those that lie here, stretched before us, the wise +and the powerful of ancient times, warn us to remember the shortness of +our present state: they were, perhaps, snatched away, while they were +busy, like us, in the choice of life." + +"To me," said the princess, "the choice of life is become less +important; I hope, hereafter, to think only on the choice of eternity." + +They then hastened out of the caverns, and, under the protection of +their guard, returned to Cairo. + +CHAP. XLIX. + +THIS CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED. + +It was now the time of the inundation of the Nile: a few days after +their visit to the catacombs the river began to rise. + +They were confined to their house. The whole region, being under water, +gave them no invitation to any excursions, and, being well supplied with +materials for talk, they diverted themselves with comparisons of the +different forms of life, which they had observed, and with various +schemes of happiness, which each of them had formed. + +Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the convent of St. +Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the princess, and wished only to +fill it with pious maidens, and to be made prioress of the order: she +was weary of expectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed in some +unvariable state. + +The princess thought, that, of all sublunary things, knowledge was the +best: she desired, first, to learn all sciences, and then purposed to +found a college of learned women, in which she would preside; that, by +conversing with the old, and educating the young, she might divide her +time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise up, +fur the next age, models of prudence, and patterns of piety. + +The prince desired a little kingdom, in which he might administer +justice in his own person, and see all the parts of government with his +own eyes; but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and was +always adding to the number of his subjects. + +Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream of +life, without directing their course to any particular port. Of these +wishes, that they had formed, they well knew that none could be +obtained. They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and resolved, +when the inundation should cease, to return to Abissinia. + + + + + +LETTERS. + +I.--To MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON. + +Sept. 25th, 1750. + +DEAR SIR,--You have, as I find by every kind of evidence, lost an +excellent mother; and I hope you will not think me incapable of +partaking of your grief. I have a mother, now eighty-two years of age, +whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please God that she rather +should mourn for me. I read the letters in which you relate your +mother's death to Mrs. Strahan, and think I do myself honour, when I +tell you that I read them with tears; but tears are neither to you, nor +to me, of any farther use, when once the tribute of nature has been +paid. The business of life summons us away from useless grief, and calls +us to the exercise of those virtues, of which we are lamenting our +deprivation. + +The greatest benefit which one friend can confer upon another, is to +guard and excite and elevate his virtues. This your mother will still +perform, if you diligently preserve the memory of her life, and of her +death: a life, so far as I can learn, useful, wise, and innocent; and a +death, resigned, peaceful, and holy. I cannot forbear to mention, that +neither reason nor revelation denies you to hope, that you may increase +her happiness, by obeying her precepts; and that she may, in her present +state, look, with pleasure, upon every act of virtue, to which her +instructions or example have contributed. Whether this be more than a +pleasing dream, or a just opinion of separate spirits, is, indeed, of no +great importance to us, when we consider ourselves as acting under the +eye of God: yet, surely, there is something pleasing in the belief, that +our separation from those, whom we love, is merely corporeal; and it may +be a great incitement to virtuous friendship, if it can be made +probable, that that union, which has received the divine approbation, +shall continue to eternity. + +There is one expedient, by which you may, in some degree, continue her +presence. If you write down minutely what you remember of her from your +earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure, and receive from +it many hints of soothing recollection, when time shall remove her yet +farther from you, and your grief shall be matured to veneration. To +this, however painful for the present, I cannot but advise you, as to a +source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to come; for all comfort +and all satisfaction is sincerely wished you by, + + Dear sir, + Your most obliged, most obedient, + And most humble servant, + SAM. JOHNSON. + + +II.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, Aug. 13, 1765. + +MADAM,--If you have really so good an opinion of me as you express, it +will not be necessary to inform you how unwillingly I miss the +opportunity of coming to Brighthelmstone in Mr. Thrale's company; or, +since I cannot do what I wish first, how eagerly I shall catch the +second degree of pleasure, by coming to you and him, as soon as I can +dismiss my work from my hands. + +I am afraid to make promises, even to myself; but I hope that the week +after the next will be the end of my present business. When business is +done, what remains but pleasure? and where should pleasure be sought, +but under Mrs. Thrale's influence? + +Do not blame me for a delay by which I must suffer so much, and by which +I suffer alone. If you cannot think I am good, pray think I am mending, +and that in time I may deserve to be, dear madam, your, &c. + + +III.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, July 20, 1767. + +Madam,--Though I have been away so much longer than I purposed or +expected, I have found nothing that withdraws my affections from the +friends whom I left behind, or which makes me less desirous of reposing +at that place, which your kindness and Mr. Thrale's allows me to call my +home. + +Miss Lucy[a] is more kind and civil than I expected, and has raised my +esteem by many excellencies, very noble and resplendent, though a little +discoloured by hoary virginity. Every thing else recalls to my +remembrance years, in which I proposed what, I am afraid, I have not +done, and promised myself pleasure which I have not found. But complaint +can be of no use; and why then should I depress your hopes by my +lamentations? I suppose it is the condition of humanity to design what +never will be done, and to hope what never will be obtained. But, among +the vain hopes, let me not number the hope which I have, of being long, +dear madam, your, &c. + +[a] Miss Lucy Porter, daughter to Dr. Johnson's wife, by a former +husband. + + + +IV.--TO THE SAME. + +Lichfield, August 14, 1769. + +MADAM,--I set out on Thursday morning, and found my companion, to whom I +was very much a stranger, more agreeable than I expected. We went +cheerfully forward, and passed the night at Coventry. We came in late, +and went out early; and, therefore, I did not send for my cousin Tom: +but I design to make him some amends for the omission. + +Next day we came early to Lucy, who was, I believe, glad to see us. She +had saved her best gooseberries upon the tree for me; and, as Steele +says, "I was neither too proud nor too wise" to gather them. I have +rambled a very little "inter fontes et flumina nota," but I am not yet +well. They have cut down the trees in George lane. Evelyn, in his book +of Forest Trees, tells us of wicked men that cut down trees, and never +prospered afterwards; yet nothing has deterred these audacious aldermen +from violating the Hamadryads of George lane. As an impartial traveller, +I must however tell, that, in Stow street, where I left a draw-well, I +have found a pump; but the lading-well, in this ill fated George lane, +lies shamefully neglected. + +I am going to-day, or to-morrow, to Ashbourne; but I am at a loss how I +shall get back in time to London. Here are only chance coaches, so that +there is no certainty of a place. If I do not come, let it not hinder +your journey. I can be but a few days behind you; and I will follow in +the Brighthelmstone coach. But I hope to come. + +I took care to tell Miss Porter, that I have got another Lucy. I hope +she is well. Tell Mrs. Salusbury that I beg her stay at Streatham, for +little Lucy's sake. I am, &c. + + +V.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, July 11, 1770. + +MADAM,--Since my last letter, nothing extraordinary has happened. +Rheumatism, which has been very troublesome, is grown better. I have not +yet seen Dr. Taylor, and July runs fast away. I shall not have much time +for him, if he delays much longer to come or send. Mr. Green, the +apothecary, has found a book, which tells who paid levies in our parish, +and how much they paid, above a hundred years ago. Do you not think we +study this book hard? Nothing is like going to the bottom of things. +Many families, that paid the parish-rates, are now extinct, like the +race of Hercules: "Pulvis et umbra sumus." What is nearest us, touches +us most. The passions rise higher at domestick, than at imperial, +tragedies. I am not wholly unaffected by the revolutions of Sadler +street; nor can forbear to mourn a little when old names vanish away, +and new come into their place. + +Do not imagine, madam, that I wrote this letter for the sake of these +philosophical meditations; for when I began it, I had neither Mr. Green, +nor his book, in my thoughts; but was resolved to write, and did not +know what I had to send, but my respects to Mrs. Salusbury, and Mr. +Thrale, and Harry, and the Misses. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +VI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, July 23, 1770. + +DEAREST MADAM,--There had not been so long an interval between my two +last letters, but that, when I came hither, I did not at first +understand the hours of the post. + +I have seen the great bull; and very great he is. I have seen, likewise, +his heir apparent, who promises to inherit all the bulk, and all the +virtues, of his sire. I have seen the man who offered a hundred guineas +for the young bull, while he was yet little better than a calf. Matlock, +I am afraid, I shall not see, but I purpose to see Dovedale; and, after +all this seeing, I hope to see you. I am, &c. + + +VII.--TO THE SAME. + +Ashbourne, July 3, 1771. + +DEAR MADAM,--Last Saturday I came to Ashbourne; the dangers or the +pleasures of the journey I have, at present, no disposition to recount; +else might I paint the beauties of my native plains; might I tell of the +"smiles of nature, and the charms of art;" else might I relate, how I +crossed the Staffordshire canal, one of the great efforts of human +labour, and human contrivance, which, from the bridge on which I viewed +it, passed away on either side, and loses itself in distant regions, +uniting waters that nature had divided, and dividing lands which nature +had united. I might tell how these reflections fermented in my mind, +till the chaise stopped at Ashbourne, at Ashbourne in the Peak. Let not +the barren name of the Peak terrify you; I have never wanted +strawberries and cream. The great bull has no disease but age. I hope, +in time, to be like the great bull; and hope you will be like him, too, +a hundred years hence. I am, &c. + + +VIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, July 10, 1771. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am obliged to my friend Harry, for his remembrance, +but think it a little hard that I hear nothing from Miss. + +There has been a man here to-day to take a farm. After some talk, he +went to see the bull, and said, that he had seen a bigger. Do you think +he is likely to get the farm? + +_Toujours_ strawberries and cream. + +Dr. Taylor is much better, and my rheumatism is less painful. Let me +hear, in return, as much good of you and of Mrs. Salusbury. You despise +the Dog and Duck: things that are at hand are always slighted. I +remember that Dr. Grevil, of Gloucester, sent for that water when his +wife was in the same danger; but he lived near Malvern, and you live +near the Dog and Duck. Thus, in difficult cases, we naturally trust most +what we least know. + +Why Bromefield, supposing that a lotion can do good, should despise +laurel-water, in comparison with his own receipt, I do not see; and see, +still less, why he should laugh at that which Wall thinks efficacious. I +am afraid philosophy will not warrant much hope in a lotion. + +Be pleased to make my compliments from Mrs. Salusbury to Susy. I am, &c. + + +IX.--To THE SAME. + +October 31, 1772. + +MADAM,--Though I am just informed, that, by some accidental negligence, +the letter, which I wrote on Thursday, was not given to the post, yet I +cannot refuse myself the gratification of writing again to my mistress; +not that I have any thing to tell, but that, by showing how much I am +employed upon you, I hope to keep you from forgetting me. + +Doctor Taylor asked me, this morning, on what I was thinking; and I was +thinking on Lucy. I hope Lucy is a good girl. But she cannot yet be so +good as Queeney. I have got nothing yet for Queeney's cabinet. + +I hope dear Mrs. Salusbury grows no worse. I wish any thing could be +found that would make her better. You must remember her admonition, and +bustle in the brewhouse. When I come, you may expect to have your hands +full with all of us. + +Our bulls and cows are all well, but we yet hate the man that had seen a +bigger bull. Our deer have died, but many are left. Our waterfall, at +the garden, makes a great roaring this wet weather. + +And so no more at present from, madam, your, &c. + + +X.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 23, 1772. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sorry that none of your letters bring better news of +the poor dear lady. I hope her pain is not great. To have a disease +confessedly incurable, and apparently mortal, is a very heavy +affliction; and it is still more grievous, when pain is added to +despair. + +Every thing else in your letter pleased me very well, except that when I +come I entreat I may not be flattered, as your letters flatter me. You +have read of heroes and princes ruined by flattery, and, I question, if +any of them had a flatterer so dangerous as you. Pray keep strictly to +your character of governess. + +I cannot yet get well; my nights are flatulent and unquiet, but my days +are tolerably easy, and Taylor says, that I look much better than when I +came hither. You will see when I come, and I can take your word. + +Our house affords no revolutions. The great bull is well. But I write, +not merely to think on you, for I do that without writing, but to keep +you a little thinking on me. I perceive that I have taken a broken piece +of paper, but that is not the greatest fault that you must forgive in, +madam, your, &c. + + +XI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 27, 1772. + +DEAR MADAM,--If you are so kind as to write to me on Saturday, the day +on which you will receive this, I shall have it before I leave +Ashbourne. I am to go to Lichfield on Wednesday, and purpose to find my +way to London, through Birmingham and Oxford. + +I was yesterday at Chatsworth. It is a very fine house. I wish you had +been with me to see it; for then, as we are apt to want matter of talk, +we should have gained something new to talk on. They complimented me +with playing the fountain, and opening the cascade. But I am of my +friend's opinion, that when one has seen the ocean, cascades are but +little things. + +I am in hope of a letter to-day from you or Queeney, but the post has +made some blunder, and the packet is not yet distributed. I wish it may +bring me a little good of you all. I am, &c. + + +XII.--To THE SAME. + +Tuesday, Jan. 26, 1773. + +MADAM,--The inequalities of human life have always employed the +meditation of deep thinkers, and I cannot forbear to reflect on the +difference between your condition and my own. You live upon mock-turtle, +and stewed rumps of beef; I dined, yesterday, upon crumpets. You sit +with parish officers, caressing and caressed, the idol of the table, and +the wonder of the day. I pine in the solitude of sickness, not bad +enough to be pitied, and not well enough to be endured. You sleep away +the night, and laugh, or scold away the day. I cough and grumble, and +grumble and cough. Last night was very tedious, and this day makes no +promises of much ease. However, I have this day put on my shoe, and hope +that gout is gone. I shall have only the cough to contend with, and I +doubt whether I shall get rid of that without change of place. I caught +cold in the coach as I went away, and am disordered by very little +things. Is it accident or age? I am, dearest madam, &c. + + +XIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +March 17, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--To tell you that I am sorry, both for the poor lady and for +you, is useless. I cannot help either of you. The weakness of mind is, +perhaps, only a casual interruption or intermission of the attention, +such as we all suffer when some weighty care or urgent calamity has +possession of the mind. She will compose herself. She is unwilling to +die, and the first conviction of approaching death raised great +perturbation. I think she has but very lately thought death close at +hand. She will compose herself to do that as well as she can, which +must, at last, be done. May she not want the divine assistance! + +You, madam, will have a great loss; a greater than is common in the loss +of a parent. Fill your mind with hope of her happiness, and turn your +thoughts first to him who gives and takes away, in whose presence the +living and dead are standing together. Then remember, that when this +mournful duty is paid, others yet remain of equal obligation, and, we +may hope, of less painful performance. Grief is a species of idleness, +and the necessity of attention to the present preserves us, by the +merciful disposition of providence, from being lacerated and devoured by +sorrow for the past. You must think on your husband and your children, +and do what this dear lady has done for you. + +Not to come to town while the great struggle continues is, undoubtedly, +well resolved. But do not harass yourself into danger; you owe the care +of your health to all that love you, at least to all whom it is your +duty to love. You cannot give such a mother too much, if you do not give +her what belongs to another. I am, &c. + + +XIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +April 27, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--Hope is more pleasing than fear, but not less fallacious; +you know, when you do not try to deceive yourself, that the disease, +which at last is to destroy, must be gradually growing worse, and that +it is vain to wish for more than, that the descent to death may be slow +and easy. In this wish I join with you, and hope it will be granted. +Dear, dear lady, whenever she is lost she will be missed, and whenever +she is remembered she will be lamented. Is it a good or an evil to me, +that she now loves me? It is surely a good; for you will love me better, +and we shall have a new principle of concord; and I shall be happier +with honest sorrow, than with sullen indifference: and far happier still +than with counterfeited sympathy. + +I am reasoning upon a principle very far from certain, a confidence of +survivance. You or I, or both, may be called into the presence of the +supreme judge before her. I have lived a life of which I do not like the +review. Surely I shall, in time, live better. + +I sat down with an intention to write high compliments; but my thoughts +have taken another course, and some other time must now serve to tell +you with what other emotions, benevolence, and fidelity, I am, &c. + + +XV.--To THE SAME. + +May 17, 1773. + +MADAM,--Never imagine that your letters are long; they are always too +short for my curiosity. I do not know that I was ever content with a +single perusal. + +Of dear Mrs. Salusbury I never expect much better news than you send me; +_de pis en pis_ is the natural and certain course of her dreadful +malady. I am content, when it leaves her ease enough for the exercise of +her mind. Why should Mr. **** suppose, that what I took the liberty of +suggesting, was concerted with you? He does not know how much I revolve +his affairs, and how honestly I desire his prosperity. I hope he has let +the hint take some hold of his mind. + +Your declaration to Miss **** is more general than my opinions allow. I +think an unlimited promise of acting by the opinion of another so wrong, +that nothing, or hardly anything, can make it right. All unnecessary +vows are folly, because they suppose a prescience of the future which +has not been given us. They are, I think, a crime, because they resign +that life to chance which God has given us to be regulated by reason; +and superinduce a kind of fatality, from which it is the great privilege +of our nature to be free. Unlimited obedience is due only to the +universal father of heaven and earth. My parents may be mad and foolish; +may be wicked and malicious; may be erroneously religious, or absurdly +scrupulous. I am not bound to compliance with mandates, either positive +or negative, which either religion condemns, or reason rejects. There +wanders about the world a wild notion, which extends over marriage more +than over any other transaction. If Miss **** followed a trade, would it +be said, that she was bound, in conscience, to give or refuse credit at +her father's choice? And is not marriage a thing in which she is more +interested, and has, therefore, more right of choice? When I may suffer +for my own crimes, when I may be sued for my own debts, I may judge, by +parity of reason, for my own happiness. The parent's moral right can +arise only from his kindness, and his civil right only from his money. + +Conscience cannot dictate obedience to the wicked, or compliance with +the foolish; and of interest mere prudence is the judge. + +If the daughter is bound without a promise, she promises nothing; +and if she is not bound, she promises too much. + +What is meant by tying up money in trade I do not understand No money is +so little tied, as that which is employed in trade. Mr. ****, perhaps, +only means, that in consideration of money to be advanced, he will +oblige his son to be a trader. This is reasonable enough. Upon ten +thousand pounds, diligently occupied, they may live in great plenty and +splendour, without the mischiefs of idleness. + +I can write a long letter, as well as my mistress; and shall be glad +that my long letters may be as welcome as hers. + +My nights are grown again very uneasy and troublesome. I know not that +the country will mend them; but I hope your company will mend my days. +Though I cannot now expect much attention, and would not wish for more +than can be spared from the poor dear lady, yet I shall see you and hear +you every now and then; and to see and hear you, is always to hear wit, +and to see virtue. + +I shall I hope, see you to-morrow, and a little on the two next days; +and with that little I must, for the present, try to be contented. I am, +&c. + + +XVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +August 12, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--We left London on Friday, the 6th, not very early, and +travelled, without any memorable accident, through a country which I had +seen before. In the evening I was not well, and was forced to stop at +Stilton, one stage short of Stamford, where we intended to have lodged. + +On the 7th we passed through Stamford and Grantham, and dined at Newark, +where I had only time to observe, that the market-place was uncommonly +spacious and neat. In London, we should call it a square, though the +sides were neither straight nor parallel. We came, at night, to +Doncaster, and went to church in the morning, where Chambers found the +monument of Robert of Doncaster, who says on his stone something like +this:--What I gave, that I have; what I spent, that I had; what I left, +that I lost.--So saith Robert of Doncaster, who reigned in the world +sixty-seven years, and all that time lived not one. Here we were invited +to dinner, and, therefore, made no great haste away. + +We reached York, however, that night; I was much disordered with old +complaints. Next morning we saw the minster, an edifice of loftiness and +elegance, equal to the highest hopes of architecture. I remember +nothing, but the dome of St. Paul's, that can be compared with the +middle walk. The chapter-house is a circular building, very stately, +but, I think, excelled by the chapter-house of Lincoln. + +I then went to see the ruins of the abbey, which are almost vanished, +and I remember nothing of them distinct. The next visit was to the gaol, +which they call the castle; a fabrick built lately, such is terrestrial +mutability, out of the materials of the ruined abbey. The under gaoler +was very officious to show his fetters, in which there was no +contrivance. The head gaoler came in, and seeing me look, I suppose, +fatigued, offered me wine, and, when I went away, would not suffer his +servant to take money. The gaol is accounted the best in the kingdom, +and you find the gaoler deserving of his dignity. + +We dined at York, and went on to Northallerton, a place of which I know +nothing, but that it afforded us a lodging on Monday night, and about +two hundred and seventy years ago gave birth to Roger Ascham. + +Next morning we changed our horses at Darlington, where Mr. Cornelius +Harrison, a cousin-german of mine, was perpetual curate. He was the only +one of my relations who ever rose in fortune above penury, or in +character above neglect. + +The church is built crosswise, with a fine spire, and might invite a +traveller to survey it; but I, perhaps, wanted vigour, and thought I +wanted time. + +The next stage brought us to Durham, a place of which Mr. Thrale bade me +take particular notice. The bishop's palace has the appearance of an old +feudal castle, built upon an eminence, and looking down upon the river, +upon which was formerly thrown a drawbridge, as I suppose, to be raised +at night, lest the Scots should pass it. + +The cathedral has a massiness and solidity, such as I have seen in no +other place; it rather awes than pleases, as it strikes with a kind of +gigantick dignity, and aspires to no other praise than that of rocky +solidity and indeterminate duration. I had none of my friends resident, +and, therefore, saw but little. The library is mean and scanty. + +At Durham, beside all expectation, I met an old friend: Miss Fordyce is +married there to a physician. We met, I think, with honest kindness on +both sides. I thought her much decayed, and having since heard that the +banker had involved her husband in his extensive ruin, I cannot forbear +to think, that I saw in her withered features more impression of sorrow +than that of time-- + + "Qua terra patet, sera regnat Erinnys." + +He that wanders about the world sees new forms of human misery, and if +he chances to meet an old friend, meets a face darkened with troubles. + +On Tuesday night we came hither; yesterday I took some care of myself, +and to-day I am _quite polite_. I have been taking a view of all that +could be shown me, and find that all very near to nothing. You have +often heard me complain of finding myself disappointed by books of +travels; I am afraid travel itself will end likewise in disappointment. +One town, one country, is very like another: civilized nations have the +same customs, and barbarous nations have the same nature: there are, +indeed, minute discriminations both of places and manners, which, +perhaps, are not wanting of curiosity, but which a traveller seldom +stays long enough to investigate and compare. The dull utterly neglect +them; the acute see a little, and supply the rest with fancy and +conjecture. + +I shall set out again to-morrow; but I shall not, I am afraid, see +Alnwick, for Dr. Percy is not there. I hope to lodge to-morrow night at +Berwick, and the next at Edinburgh, where I shall direct Mr. Drummond, +bookseller at Ossian's head, to take care of my letters. + +I hope the little dears are all well, and that my dear master and +mistress may go somewhither; but, wherever you go, do not forget, madam, +your most humble servant. + +I am pretty well. + +August 15. + +Thus far I had written at Newcastle. I forgot to send it. I am now at +Edinburgh; and have been this day running about. I run pretty well. + + +XVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, August 17, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--On the 13th, I left Newcastle, and, in the afternoon, came +to Alnwick, where we were treated with great civility by the duke: I +went through the apartments, walked on the wall, and climbed the towers. +That night we lay at Belford, and, on the next night, came to Edinburgh. +On Sunday (15th) I went to the English chapel. After dinner, Dr. +Robertson came in, and promised to show me the place. On Monday I saw +their publick buildings: the cathedral, which I told Robertson I wished +to see, because it had once been a church; the courts of justice, the +parliament-house, the advocates' library, the repository of records, the +college, and its library, and the palace, particularly the old tower, +where the king of Scotland seized David Rizzio in the queen's presence. +Most of their buildings are very mean; and the whole town bears some +resemblance to the old part of Birmingham. + +Boswell has very handsome and spacious rooms, level with the ground, on +one side of the house, and, on the other, four stories high. + +At dinner, on Monday, were the dutchess of Douglas, an old lady, who +talks broad Scotch with a paralytick voice, and is scarcely understood +by her own countrymen; the lord chief baron, sir Adolphus Oughton, and +many more. At supper there was such a conflux of company, that I could +scarcely support the tumult. I have never been well in the whole +journey, and am very easily disordered. + +This morning I saw, at breakfast, Dr. Blacklock, the blind poet, who +does not remember to have seen light, and is read to, by a poor scholar, +in Latin, Greek, and French. He was, originally, a poor scholar himself. +I looked on him with reverence. Tomorrow our journey begins; I know not +when I shall write again. I am but poorly. I am, &c. + + +XVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Bamff, August 25, 1773. + +Dear Madam,--It has so happened, that, though I am perpetually thinking +on you, I could seldom find opportunity to write; I have, in fourteen +days, sent only one letter; you must consider the fatigues of travel, +and the difficulties encountered in a strange country. + +August 18th. I passed, with Boswell, the frith of Forth, and began our +journey; in the passage we observed an island, which I persuaded my +companions to survey. We found it a rock somewhat troublesome to climb, +about a mile long, and half a mile broad; in the middle were the ruins +of an old fort, which had, on one of the stones,--"Maria Re. 1564." It +had been only a blockhouse, one story high. I measured two apartments, +of which the walls were entire, and found them twenty-seven feet long, +and twenty-three broad. The rock had some grass and many thistles; both +cows and sheep were grazing. There was a spring of water. The name is +Inchkeith. Look on your maps. This visit took about an hour. We pleased +ourselves with being in a country all our own, and then went back to the +boat, and landed at Kinghorn, a mean town; and, travelling through +Kirkaldie, a very long town, meanly built, and Cowpar, which I could not +see, because it was night, we came late to St. Andrew's, the most +ancient of the Scotch universities, and once the see of the primate of +Scotland. The inn was full; but lodgings were provided for us at the +house of the professor of rhetorick, a man of elegant manners, who +showed us, in the morning, the poor remains of a stately cathedral, +demolished in Knox's reformation, and now only to be imagined, by +tracing its foundation, and contemplating the little ruins that are +left. Here was once a religious house. Two of the vaults or cellars of +the sub-prior are even yet entire. In one of them lives an old woman, +who claims an hereditary residence in it, boasting that her husband was +the sixth tenant of this gloomy mansion, in a lineal descent, and +claims, by her marriage with this lord of the cavern, an alliance with +the Bruces. Mr. Boswell staid awhile to interrogate her, because he +understood her language; she told him, that she and her cat lived +together; that she had two sons somewhere, who might, perhaps, be dead; +that, when there were quality in the town, notice was taken of her, and +that now she was neglected, but did not trouble them. Her habitation +contained all that she had; her turf, for fire, was laid in one place, +and her balls of coal-dust in another, but her bed seemed to be clean. +Boswell asked her, if she never heard any noises; but she could tell him +of nothing supernatural, though she often wandered in the night among +the graves and ruins; only she had, sometimes, notice, by dreams, of the +death of her relations. We then viewed the remains of a castle, on the +margin of the sea, in which the archbishops resided, and in which +cardinal Beatoun was killed. + +The professors, who happened to be readout in the vacation, made a +publick dinner, and treated us very kindly and respectfully. They showed +us their colleges, in one of which there is a library that, for +luminousness and elegance, may vie, at least, with the new edifice at +Streatham. But learning seems not to prosper among them; one of their +colleges has been lately alienated, and one of their churches lately +deserted. An experiment was made of planting a shrubbery in the church, +but it did not thrive. + +Why the place should thus fall to decay, I know not; for education, such +as is here to be had, is sufficiently cheap. The term, or, as they call +it, their session, lasts seven months in the year, which the students of +the highest rank and greatest expense, may pass here for twenty pounds, +in which are included board, lodging, books, and the continual +instruction of three professors. + +20th. We left St. Andrew's, well satisfied with our reception, and, +crossing the frith of Tay, came to Dundee, a dirty, despicable town. We +passed, afterwards, through Aberbrothick, famous once for an abbey, of +which there are only a few fragments left; but those fragments testify +that the fabrick was once of great extent, and of stupendous +magnificence. Two of the towers are yet standing, though shattered; into +one of them Boswell climbed, but found the stairs broken: the way into +the other we did not see, and had not time to search; I believe it might +be ascended, but the top, I think, is open. + +We lay at Montrose, a neat place, with a spacious area for the market, +and an elegant town-house. + +21st. We travelled towards Aberdeen, another university, and, in the +way, dined at lord Monboddo's, the Scotch judge, who has lately written +a strange book about the origin of language, in which he traces monkeys +up to men, and says that, in some countries, the human species have +tails like other beasts. He inquired for these long-tailed men of Banks, +and was not well pleased, that they had not been found in all his +peregrination. He talked nothing of this to me, and I hope we parted +friends; for we agreed pretty well, only we disputed in adjusting the +claims of merit between a shopkeeper of London, and a savage of the +American wildernesses. Our opinions were, I think, maintained, on both +sides, without full conviction: Monboddo declared boldly for the savage; +and I, perhaps, for that reason, sided with the citizen. + +We came late to Aberdeen, where I found my dear mistress's letter, and +learned that all our little people were happily recovered of the +measles. Every part of your letter was pleasing. + +There are two cities of the name of Aberdeen: the old town, built about +a mile inland, once the see of a bishop, which contains the king's +college, and the remains of the cathedral; and the new town, which +stands, for the sake of trade, upon a frith or arm of the sea, so that +ships rest against the quay. + +The two cities have their separate magistrates; and the two colleges +are, in effect, two universities, which confer degrees independently of +each other. + +New Aberdeen is a large town, built almost wholly of that granite which +is used for the new pavement in London, which, hard as it is, they +square with very little difficulty. Here I first saw the women in +plaids. The plaid makes, at once, a hood and cloak, without cutting or +sewing, merely by the manner of drawing the opposite sides over the +shoulders. The maids, at the inns, run over the house barefoot; and +children, not dressed in rags, go without shoes or stockings. Shoes are, +indeed, not yet in universal use; they came late into this country. One +of the professors told us, as we were mentioning a fort, built by +Cromwell, that the country owed much of its present industry to +Cromwell's soldiers. They taught us, said he, to raise cabbage, and make +shoes. How they lived without shoes may yet be seen; but, in the passage +through villages, it seems to him, that surveys their gardens, that when +they had not cabbage, they had nothing. + +Education is here of the same price as at St. Andrew's, only the session +is but from the 1st of November to the 1st of April. The academical +buildings seem rather to advance than decline. They showed their +libraries, which were not very splendid, but some manuscripts were so +exquisitely penned, that I wished my dear mistress to have seen them. I +had an unexpected pleasure, by finding an old acquaintance, now +professor of physick, in the king's college: we were, on both sides, +glad of the interview, having not seen, nor, perhaps, thought on one +another, for many years; but we had no emulation, nor had either of us +risen to the other's envy, and our old kindness was easily renewed. I +hope we shall never try the effect of so long an absence, and that I +shall always be, madam your, &c. + + +XIX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Inverness, August 28, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--August 23rd, I had the honour of attending the lord provost +of Aberdeen, and was presented with the freedom of the city, not in a +gold box, but in good Latin. Let me pay Scotland one just praise! there +was no officer gaping for a fee; this could have been said of no city on +the English side of the Tweed. I wore my patent of freedom, _pro more_, +in my hat, from the new town to the old, about a mile. I then dined with +my friend, the professor of physick, at his house, and saw the king's +college. Boswell was very angry, that the Aberdeen professors would not +talk. When I was at the English church, in Aberdeen, I happened to be +espied by lady Di. Middleton, whom I had sometime seen in London; she +told what she had seen to Mr. Boyd, lord Errol's brother, who wrote us +an invitation to lord Errol's house, called Slane's castle We went +thither on the next day, (24th of August,) and found a house, not old, +except but one tower, built on the margin of the sea, upon a rock, +scarce accessible from the sea; at one corner, a tower makes a +perpendicular continuation of the lateral surface of the rock, so that +it is impracticable to walk round; the house inclosed a square court, +and on all sides within the court is a piazza, or gallery, two stories +high. We came in, as we were invited to dinner, and, after dinner, +offered to go; but lady Errol sent us word by Mr. Boyd, that if we went +before lord Errol came home, we must never be forgiven, and ordered out +the coach to show us two curiosities. We were first conducted, by Mr. +Boyd, to Dunbuys, or the yellow rock. Dunbuys is a rock, consisting of +two protuberances, each, perhaps, one hundred yards round, joined +together by a narrow neck, and separated from the land by a very narrow +channel or gully. These rocks are the haunts of seafowl, whose clang, +though this is not their season, we heard at a distance. The eggs and +the young are gathered here, in great numbers, at the time of breeding. +There is a bird here, called a coot, which, though not much bigger than +a duck, lays a larger egg than a goose. We went then to see the Buller, +or Bouilloir, of Buchan: Buchan is the name of the district, and the +Buller is a small creek, or gulf, into which the sea flows through an +arch of the rock. We walked round it, and saw it black, at a great +depth. It has its name from the violent ebullition of the water, when +high winds or high tides drive it up the arch into the basin. Walking a +little farther, I spied some boats, and told my companions that we would +go into the Buller and examine it. There was no danger; all was calm; we +went through the arch, and found ourselves in a narrow gulf, surrounded +by craggy rocks, of height not stupendous, but, to a mediterranean +visitor, uncommon. On each side was a cave, of which the fisherman knew +not the extent, in which smugglers hide their goods, and sometimes +parties of pleasure take a dinner. I am, &c. + + +XX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, September 6, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am now looking on the sea, from a house of sir +Alexander Macdonald, in the isle of Skie. Little did I once think of +seeing this region of obscurity, and little did you once expect a +salutation from this verge of European life. I have now the pleasure of +going where nobody goes, and seeing what nobody sees. Our design is to +visit several of the smaller islands, and then pass over to the south-west +of Scotland. + +I returned from the sight of Buller's Buchan to lord Errol's, and, +having seen his library, had, for a time, only to look upon the sea, +which rolled between us and Norway. Next morning, August 25th, we +continued our journey through a country not uncultivated, but so denuded +of its woods, that, in all this journey, I had not travelled a hundred +yards between hedges, or seen five trees fit for the carpenter. A few +small plantations may be found, but I believe scarcely any thirty years +old; at least, they are all posterior to the union. This day we dined +with a country-gentleman, who has in his grounds the remains of a +Druid's temple, which, when it is complete, is nothing more than a +circle, or double circle, of stones, placed at equal distances, with a +flat stone, perhaps an altar, at a certain point, and a stone, taller +than the rest, at the opposite point. The tall stone is erected, I +think, at the south. Of these circles, there are many in all the +unfrequented parts of the island. The inhabitants of these parts respect +them as memorials of the sculpture of some illustrious person. Here I +saw a few trees. We lay at Bamff. + +August 26th. We dined at Elgin, where we saw the ruins of a noble +cathedral; the chapter-house is yet standing. A great part of Elgin is +built with small piazzas to the lower story. We went on to Foris, over +the heath where Macbeth met the witches, but had no adventure; only in +the way we saw, for the first time, some houses with fruit-trees about +them. The improvements of the Scotch are for immediate profit; they do +not yet think it quite worth their while to plant what will not produce +something to be eaten, or sold, in a very little time. We rested at +Foris. + +A very great proportion of the people are barefoot; shoes are not yet +considered as necessaries of life. It is still the custom to send out +the sons of gentlemen without them into the streets and ways. There are +more beggars than I have ever seen in England; they beg, if not +silently, yet very modestly. + +Next day we came to Nairn, a miserable town, but a royal burgh, of which +the chief annual magistrate is styled lord provost. In the neighbourhood +we saw the castle of the old thane of Cawdor. There is one ancient +tower, with its battlements and winding stairs, yet remaining; the rest +of the house is, though not modern, of later erection. + +On the 28th we went to Fort George, which is accounted the most regular +fortification in the island. The major of artillery walked with us round +the walls, and showed us the principles upon which every part was +constructed, and the way in which it could be defended. We dined with +the governour, sir Eyre Coote, and his officers. It was a very pleasant +and instructive day; but nothing puts my honoured mistress out of my +mind. + +At night we came to Inverness, the last considerable town in the north, +where we staid all the next day, for it was Sunday, and saw the ruins of +what is called Macbeth's castle. It never was a large house, but was +strongly situated. From Inverness we were to travel on horseback. + +August 30th. We set out with four horses. We had two highlanders to run +by us, who were active, officious, civil, and hardy. Our journey was, +for many miles, along a military way, made upon the banks of Lough Ness, +a water about eighteen miles long, but not, I think, half a mile broad. +Our horses were not bad, and the way was very pleasant; the rock, out of +which the road was cut, was covered with birch-trees, fern, and heath. +The lake below was beating its bank by a gentle wind, and the rocks +beyond the water, on the right, stood sometimes horrid, and wild, and +sometimes opened into a kind of bay, in which there was a spot of +cultivated ground, yellow with corn. In one part of the way we had trees +on both sides, for, perhaps, half a mile. Such a length of shade, +perhaps Scotland cannot show in any other place. + +You are not to suppose, that here are to be any more towns or inns. We +came to a cottage, which they call the General's Hut, where we alighted +to dine, and had eggs and bacon, and mutton, with wine, rum, and +whiskey. I had water. + +At a bridge over the river, which runs into the Ness the rocks rise on +three sides, with a direction almost perpendicular, to a great height; +they are, in part, covered with trees, and exhibit a kind of dreadful +magnificence:--standing like the barriers of nature, placed to keep +different orders of being in perpetual separation. Near this bridge is +the fall of Fiers, a famous cataract, of which, by clambering over the +rocks, we obtained a view. The water was low, and, therefore, we had +only the pleasure of knowing that rain would make it, at once, pleasing +and formidable; there will then be a mighty flood, foaming along a rocky +channel, frequently obstructed by protuberances, and exasperated by +reverberation, at last precipitated with a sudden descent, and lost in +the depth of a gloomy chasm. + +We came, somewhat late, to Fort Augustus, where the lieutenant-governour +met us beyond the gates, and apologized that, at that hour, he could +not, by the rules of a garrison, admit us, otherwise than at a narrow +door, which only one can enter at a time. We were well entertained and +well lodged, and, next morning, after having viewed the fort, we pursued +our journey. + +Our way now lay over the mountains, which are not to be passed by +climbing them directly, but by traversing; so that, as we went forward, +we saw our baggage following us below, in a direction exactly contrary. +There is, in these ways, much labour, but little danger, and, perhaps, +other places, of which very terrifick representations are made, are not, +in themselves, more formidable. These roads have all been made by hewing +the rock away with pickaxes, or bursting it with gunpowder. The stones, +so separated, are often piled loose, as a wall by the wayside. We saw an +inscription, importing the year in which one of the regiments made two +thousand yards of the road eastward. + +After tedious travel of some hours, we came to what, I believe, we must +call a village, a place where there were three huts built of turf; at +one of which we were to have our dinner and our bed, for we could not +reach any better place that night. This place is called Enoch in +Glenmorrison. The house, in which we lodged, was distinguished by a +chimney, the rest had only a hole for the smoke. Here we had eggs, and +mutton, and a chicken, and a sausage, and rum. In the afternoon tea was +made by a very decent girl in a printed linen: she engaged me so much, +that I made her a present of Cocker's arithmetick. I am, &c. + + +XXI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 14,1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--The post, which comes but once a week into these parts, +is so soon to go, that I have not time to go on where I left off in my +last letter. I have been several days in the island of Raarsa, and am +now again in the isle of Skie, but at the other end of it. + +Skie is almost equally divided between the two great families of +Macdonald and Macleod, other proprietors having only small districts. +The two great lords do not know, within twenty square miles, the +contents of their own territories. + +--kept up but ill the reputation of highland hospitality; we are now +with Macleod, quite at the other end of the island, where there is a +fine young gentleman and fine ladies. The ladies are studying Erse. I +have a cold, and am miserably deaf, and am troublesome to lady Macleod; +I force her to speak loud, but she will seldom speak loud enough. + +Raarsa is an island about fifteen miles long and two broad, under the +dominion of one gentleman, who has three sons and ten daughters; the +eldest is the beauty of this part of the world, and has been polished at +Edinburgh: they sing and dance, and, without expense, have upon their +table most of what sea, air, or earth can afford. I intended to have +written about Raarsa, but the post will not wait longer than while I +send my compliments to my dear master and little mistresses. I am, &c. + + +XXII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 21, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am so vexed at the necessity of sending yesterday so +short a letter, that I purpose to get a long letter beforehand, by +writing something every day, which I may the more easily do, as a cold +makes me now too deaf to take the usual pleasure in conversation. Lady +Macleod is very good to me; and the place, at which we now are, is +equal, in strength of situation, in the wildness of the adjacent +country, and in the plenty and elegance of the domestick entertainment, +to a castle in Gothick romances. The sea, with a little island, is +before us; cascades play within view. Close to the house is the +formidable skeleton of an old castle, probably Danish; and the whole +mass of building stands upon a protuberance of rock, inaccessible till +of late, but by a pair of stairs on the seaside, and secure, in ancient +times, against any enemy that was likely to invade the kingdom of Skie. + +Macleod has offered me an island; if it were not too far off, I should +hardly refuse it: my island would be pleasanter than Brighthelmstone, if +you and my master could come to it; but I cannot think it pleasant to +live quite alone, + + "Oblitusque meorum, obliviscendus et illis." + +That I should be elated, by the dominion of an island to forgetfulness +of my friends at Streatham, I cannot believe, and I hope never to +deserve that they should be willing to forget me. + +It has happened, that I have been often recognised in my journey, where +I did not expect it. At Aberdeen, I found one of my acquaintance +professor of physick: turning aside to dine with a country-gentleman, I +was owned, at table, by one who had seen me at a philosophical lecture: +at Macdonald's I was claimed by a naturalist, who wanders about the +islands to pick up curiosities: and I had once, in London, attracted the +notice of lady Macleod. I will now go on with my account. + +The highland girl made tea, and looked and talked not inelegantly; her +father was by no means an ignorant or a weak man; there were books in +the cottage, among which were some volumes of Prideaux's Connexion: this +man's conversation we were glad of while we staid. He had been out, as +they call it, in forty-five, and still retained his old opinions. He was +going to America, because his rent was raised beyond what he thought +himself able to pay. + +At night our beds were made, but we had some difficulty in persuading +ourselves to lie down in them, though we had put on our own sheets; at +last we ventured, and I slept very soundly in the vale of Glenmorrison, +amidst the rocks and mountains. Next morning our landlord liked us so +well, that he walked some miles with us for our company, through a +country so wild and barren, that the proprietor does not, with all his +pressure upon his tenants, raise more than four hundred pounds a year +for near one hundred square miles, or sixty thousand acres. He let us +know, that he had forty head of black cattle, a hundred goats, and a +hundred sheep, upon a farm that he remembered let at five pounds a year, +but for which he now paid twenty. He told us some stories of their march +into England. At last, he left us, and we went forward, winding among +mountains, sometimes green and sometimes naked, commonly so steep, as +not easily to be climbed by the greatest vigour and activity: our way +was often crossed by little rivulets, and we were entertained with small +streams trickling from the rocks, which, after heavy rains, must be +tremendous torrents. + +About noon we came to a small glen, so they call a valley, which, +compared with other places, appeared rich and fertile; here our guides +desired us to stop, that the horses might graze, for the journey was +very laborious, and no more grass would be found. We made no difficulty +of compliance, and I sat down to take notes on a green bank, with a +small stream running at my feet, in the midst of savage solitude, with +mountains before me, and, on either hand, covered with heath. I looked +around me, and wondered, that I was not more affected, but the mind is +not at all times equally ready to be put in motion; if my mistress, and +master, and Queeney had been there, we should have produced some +reflections among us, either poetical or philosophical; for though +"solitude be the nurse of woe," conversation is often the parent of +remarks and discoveries. + +In about an hour we remounted, and pursued our journey. The lake, by +which we had travelled for some time, ended in a river, which we passed +by a bridge, and came to another glen, with a collection of huts, called +Auknashealds; the huts were, generally, built of clods of earth, held +together by the intertexture of vegetable fibres, of which earth there +are great levels in Scotland, which they call mosses. Moss in Scotland +is bog in Ireland, and moss-trooper is bog-trotter; there was, however, +one hut built of loose stones, piled up, with great thickness, into a +strong, though not solid wall. From this house we obtained some great +pails of milk, and having brought bread with us, we were liberally +regaled. The inhabitants, a very coarse tribe, ignorant of any language +but Erse, gathered so fast about us, that, if we had not had highlanders +with us, they might have caused more alarm than pleasure; they are +called the clan of Macrae. + +We had been told, that nothing gratified the highlanders so much as +snuff and tobacco, and had, accordingly, stored ourselves with both at +Fort Augustus. Boswell opened his treasure, and gave them each a piece +of tobacco roll. We had more bread than we could eat for the present, +and were more liberal than provident. Boswell cut it in slices, and gave +them an opportunity of tasting wheaten bread, for the first time. I then +got some half-pence for a shilling, and made up the deficiencies of +Boswell's distribution, who had given some money among the children. We +then directed, that the mistress of the stone-house should be asked, +what we must pay her. She, who, perhaps, had never before sold any thing +but cattle, knew not, I believe, well what to ask, and referred herself +to us: we obliged her to make some demand, and one of the Highlanders +settled the account with her at a shilling. One of the men advised her, +with the cunning that clowns never can be without, to ask more; but she +said that a shilling was enough. We gave her half-a-crown, and she +offered part of it again. The Macraes were so well pleased with our +behaviour, that they declared it the best day they had seen, since the +time of the old laird of Macleod, who, I suppose, like us, stopped in +their valley, as he was travelling to Skie. + +We were mentioning this view of the highlander's life at Macdonald's, +and mentioning the Macraes, with some degree of pity, when a highland +lady informed us, that we might spare our tenderness, for she doubted +not but the woman, who supplied us with milk, was mistress of thirteen +or fourteen milch cows. + +I cannot forbear to interrupt my narrative. Boswell, with some of his +troublesome kindness, has informed this family, and reminded me, that +the 18th of September is my birthday. The return of my birthday, if I +remember it, fills me with thoughts which it seems to be the general +care of humanity to escape. I can now look back upon threescore and four +years, in which little has been done, and little has been enjoyed; a +life, diversified by misery, spent part in the sluggishness of penury, +and part under the violence of pain, in gloomy discontent, or +importunate distress. But, perhaps, I am better than I should have been, +if I had been less afflicted. With this I will try to be content. + +In proportion as there is less pleasure in retrospective considerations, +the mind is more disposed to wander forward into futurity; but, at +sixty-four, what promises, however liberal, of imaginary good can +futurity venture to make? yet something will be always promised, and +some promises will be always credited. I am hoping, and I am praying, +that I may live better in the time to come, whether long or short, than +I have yet lived, and, in the solace of that hope, endeavour to repose. +Dear Queeney's day is next: I hope she, at sixty-four, will have less to +regret. + +I will now complain no more, but tell my mistress of my travels. + +After we left the Macraes, we travelled on through a country like that +which we passed in the morning. The highlands are very uniform, for +there is little variety in universal barrenness; the rocks, however, are +not all naked, for some have grass on their sides, and birches and +alders on their tops, and in the valleys are often broad and clear +streams, which have little depth, and commonly run very quick; the +channels are made by the violence of the wintry floods; the quickness of +the stream is in proportion to the declivity of the descent, and the +breadth of the channel makes the water shallow in a dry season. + +There are red deer and roe bucks in the mountains, but we found only +goats in the road, and had very little entertainment, as we travelled, +either for the eye or ear. There are, I fancy, no singing birds in the +highlands. + +Towards night we came to a very formidable hill, called Rattiken, which +we climbed with more difficulty than we had yet experienced, and, at +last, came to Glanelg, a place on the seaside, opposite to Skie. We +were, by this time, weary and disgusted, nor was our humour much mended +by our inn, which, though it was built of lime and slate, the +highlander's description of a house, which he thinks magnificent, had +neither wine, bread, eggs, nor any thing that we could eat or drink. +When we were taken up stairs, a dirty fellow bounced out of the bed, +where one of us was to lie. Boswell blustered, but nothing could be got. +At last, a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who heard of our arrival, +sent us rum and white sugar. Boswell was now provided for, in part, and +the landlord prepared some mutton chops, which we could not eat, and +killed two hens, of which Boswell made his servant broil a limb; with +what effect I know not. We had a lemon and a piece of bread, which +supplied me with my supper. When the repast was ended, we began to +deliberate upon bed: Mrs. Boswell had warned us, that we should _catch +something_, and had given us _sheets_, for our _security_, for--and--, +she said, came back from Skie, so scratching themselves. I thought +sheets a slender defence against the confederacy with which we were +threatened, and, by this time, our Highlanders had found a place, where +they could get some hay: I ordered hay to be laid thick upon the bed, +and slept upon it in my great coat: Boswell laid sheets upon his bed, +and reposed in linen, like a gentleman. The horses were turned out to +grass, with a man to watch them. The hill Rattiken, and the inn at +Glanelg, were the only things of which we, or travellers yet more +delicate, could find any pretensions to complain. + +Sept. 2nd. I rose, rustling from the hay, and went to tea, which I +forget, whether we found or brought. We saw the isle of Skie before us, +darkening the horizon with its rocky coast. A boat was procured, and we +lanched into one of the straits of the Atlantick ocean. We had a passage +of about twelve miles to the point where--resided, having come from his +seat in the middle of the island, to a small house on the shore, as we +believe, that he might, with less reproach, entertain us meanly. If he +aspired to meanness, his retrograde ambition was completely gratified, +but he did not succeed equally in escaping reproach. He had no cook, +nor, I suppose, much provision, nor had the lady the common decencies of +her tea-table; we picked up our sugar with our fingers. Boswell was very +angry, and reproached him with his improper parsimony; I did not much +reflect upon the conduct of a man with whom I was not likely to converse +as long at any other time. + +You will now expect that I should give you some account of the isle of +Skie, of which, though I have been twelve days upon it, I have little to +say. It is an island, perhaps, fifty miles long, so much indented by +inlets of the sea, that there is no part of it removed from the water +more than six miles. No part, that I have seen, is plain; you are always +climbing or descending, and every step is upon rock or mire. A walk upon +ploughed ground in England is a dance upon carpets, compared to the +toilsome drudgery of wandering in Skie. There is neither town nor +village in the island, nor have I seen any house but Macleod's, that is +not much below your habitation at Brighthelmstone. In the mountains +there are stags and roe bucks, but no hares, and few rabbits; nor have I +seen any thing that interested me, as a zoologist, except an otter, +bigger than I thought an otter could have been. + +You are, perhaps, imagining that I am withdrawing from the gay and the +busy world, into regions of peace and pastoral felicity, and am enjoying +the relicks of the golden age; that I am surveying nature's magnificence +from a mountain, or remarking her minuter beauties on the flowery bank +of a winding rivulet; that I am invigorating myself in the sunshine, or +delighting my imagination with being hidden from the invasion of human +evils and human passions, in the darkness of a thicket; that I am busy +in gathering shells and pebbles on the shore, or contemplative on a +rock, from which I look upon the water, and consider how many waves are +rolling between me and Streatham. + +The use of travelling is to regulate imagination by reality, and, +instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are. Here are +mountains which I should once have climbed; but to climb steeps is now +very laborious, and to descend them, dangerous; and I am now content +with knowing, that, by scrambling up a rock, I shall only see other +rocks, and a wider circuit of barren desolation. Of streams, we have +here a sufficient number; but they murmur not upon pebbles, but upon +rocks. Of flowers, if Chloris herself were here, I could present her +only with the bloom of heath. Of lawns and thickets, he must read that +would know them, for here is little sun, and no shade. On the sea I look +from my window, but am not much tempted to the shore; for since I came +to this island, almost every breath of air has been a storm, and, what +is worse, a storm with all its severity, but without its magnificence, +for the sea is here so broken into channels, that there is not a +sufficient volume of water either for lofty surges, or a loud roar. + +On Sept. 6th, we left--to visit Raarsa, the island which I have already +mentioned. We were to cross part of Skie on horseback; a mode of +travelling very uncomfortable, for the road is so narrow, where any road +can be found, that only one can go, and so craggy, that the attention +can never be remitted; it allows, therefore, neither the gaiety of +conversation, nor the laxity of solitude; nor has it, in itself, the +amusement of much variety, as it affords only all the possible +transpositions of bog, rock, and rivulet. Twelve miles, by computation, +make a reasonable journey for a day. + +At night we came to a tenant's house, of the first rank of tenants, +where we were entertained better than at the landlord's. There were +books, both English and Latin. Company gathered about us, and we heard +some talk of the second sight, and some talk of the events of forty-five; +a year which will not soon be forgotten among the islanders. The +next day we were confined by a storm. The company, I think, increased, +and our entertainment was not only hospitable, but elegant. At night, a +minister's sister, in very fine brocade, sung Erse songs; I wished to +know the meaning; but the highlanders are not much used to scholastick +questions, and no translations could be obtained. + +Next day, Sept. 8th, the weather allowed us to depart; a good boat was +provided us, and we went to Raarsa, under the conduct of Mr. Malcolm +Macleod, a gentleman who conducted prince Charles through the mountains +in his distresses. The prince, he says, was more active than himself; +they were, at least, one night without any shelter. + +The wind blew enough to give the boat a kind of dancing agitation, and, +in about three or four hours, we arrived at Raarsa, where we were met by +the laird, and his friends, upon the shore. Raarsa, for such is his +title, is master of two islands; upon the smaller of which, called Rona, +he has only flocks and herds. Rona gives title to his eldest son. The +money which he raises annually by rent from all his dominions, which +contain, at least, fifty thousand acres, is not believed to exceed two +hundred and fifty pounds; but, as he keeps a large farm in his own +hands, he sells, every year, great numbers of cattle, which add to his +revenue, and his table is furnished from the farm and from the sea, with +very little expense, except for those things this country does not +produce, and of those he is very liberal. The wine circulates +vigorously; and the tea, chocolate, and coffee, however they are got, +are always at hand. I am, &c. + +We are this morning trying to get out of Skie. + + +XXIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Skie, Sept. 24, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am still in Skie. Do you remember the song, + + "Every island is a prison, + Strongly guarded by the sea." + +We have, at one time, no boat, and, at another, may have too much wind; +but, of our reception here, we have no reason to complain. We are now +with colonel Macleod, in a more pleasant place than I thought Skie could +afford. Now to the narrative. + +We were received at Raarsa on the seaside, and after clambering, with +some difficulty, over the rocks, a labour which the traveller, wherever +he reposes himself on land, must, in these islands, be contented to +endure; we were introduced into the house, which one of the company +called the court of Raarsa, with politeness, which not the court of +Versailles could have thought defective. The house is not large, though +we were told, in our passage, that it had eleven fine rooms, nor +magnificently furnished; but our utensils were, most commonly, silver. +We went up into a dining-room, about as large as your blue room, where +we had something given us to eat, and tea and coffee. + +Raarsa himself is a man of no inelegant appearance, and of manners +uncommonly refined. Lady Raarsa makes no very sublime appearance for a +sovereign, but is a good housewife, and a very prudent and diligent +conductress of her family. Miss Flora Macleod is a celebrated beauty; +has been admired at Edinburgh; dresses her head very high; and has +manners so lady-like, that I wish her head-dress was lower. The rest of +the nine girls are all pretty; the youngest is between Queeney and Lucy. +The youngest boy, of four years old, runs barefoot, and wandered with us +over the rocks to see a mill: I believe he would walk on that rough +ground, without shoes, ten miles in a day. + +The laird of Raarsa has sometimes disputed the chieftainry of the clan +with Macleod of Skie, but, being much inferiour in extent of +possessions, has, I suppose, been forced to desist. Raarsa, and its +provinces, have descended to its present possessour, through a +succession of four hundred years, without any increase or diminution. It +was, indeed, lately in danger of forfeiture, but the old laird joined +some prudence with his zeal, and when prince Charles landed in Scotland, +made over his estate to this son, the present laird, and led one hundred +men of Raarsa into the field, with officers of his own family. Eighty-six +only came back after the last battle. The prince was hidden, in his +distress, two nights at Raarsa, and the king's troops burnt the whole +country, and killed some of the cattle. + +You may guess at the opinions that prevail in this country; they are, +however, content with fighting for their king; they do not drink for +him. We had no foolish healths. At night, unexpectedly to us, who were +strangers, the carpet was taken up; the fiddler of the family came up, +and a very vigorous and general dance was begun. As I told you, we were +two and thirty at supper; there were full as many dancers; for, though +all who supped did not dance, some danced of the young people who did +not sup. Raarsa himself danced with his children, and old Malcolm, in +his fillibeg, was as nimble, as when he led the prince over the +mountains. When they had danced themselves weary, two tables were +spread, and, I suppose, at least twenty dishes were upon them. In this +country, some preparations of milk are always served up at supper, and +sometimes, in the place of tarts, at dinner. The table was not coarsely +heaped, but, at once, plentiful and elegant. They do not pretend to make +a loaf; there are only cakes, commonly of oats or barley, but they made +me very nice cakes of wheat flour. I always sat at the left hand of lady +Raarsa; and young Macleod of Skie, the chieftain of the clan, sat on the +right. + +After supper, a young lady, who was visiting, sung Erse songs, in which +lady Raarsa joined, prettily enough, but not gracefully; the young +ladies sustained the chorus better. They are very little used to be +asked questions, and not well prepared with answers. When one of the +songs was over, I asked the princess, that sat next to me, "What is that +about?" I question if she conceived that I did not understand it. "For +the entertainment of the company," said she. "But, madam, what is the +meaning of it?" "It is a love song." This was all the intelligence that +I could obtain; nor have I been able to procure the translation of a +single line of Erse. + +At twelve it was bed-time. I had a chamber to myself, which, in eleven +rooms to forty people, was more than my share. How the company and the +family were distributed, is not easy to tell. Macleod, the chieftain, +and Boswell, and I, had all single chambers, on the first floor. There +remained eight rooms only, for, at least, seven and thirty lodgers. I +suppose they put up temporary beds in the dining-room, where they stowed +all the young ladies. There was a room above stairs with six beds, in +which they put ten men. The rest in my next. + + +XXIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ostich in Skie, Sept. 30, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--I am still confined in Skie. We were unskilful +travellers, and imagined that the sea was an open road, which we could +pass at pleasure; but we have now learned, with some pain, that we may +still wait, for a long time, the caprices of the equinoctial winds, and +sit reading or writing, as I now do, while the tempest is rolling the +sea, or roaring in the mountains. I am now no longer pleased with the +delay; you can hear from me but seldom, and I cannot at all hear from +you. It comes into my mind, that some evil may happen, or that I might +be of use while I am away. But these thoughts are vain; the wind is +violent and adverse, and our boat cannot yet come. I must content myself +with writing to you, and hoping that you will sometime receive my +letter. Now to my narrative. + +Sept. 9th. Having passed the night as is usual, I rose, and found the +dining-room full of company; we feasted and talked, and when the evening +came it brought musick and dancing. Young Macleod, the great proprietor +of Skie, and head of his clan, was very distinguishable; a young man of +nineteen, bred awhile at St. Andrew's, and afterwards at Oxford, a pupil +of G. Strahan. He is a young man of a mind, as much advanced as I have +ever known; very elegant of manners, and very graceful in his person. He +has the full spirit of a feudal chief; and I was very ready to accept +his invitation to Dunvegan. All Raarsa's children are beautiful. The +ladies, all, except the eldest, are in the morning dressed in their +hair. The true highlander never wears more than a riband on her head, +till she is married. + +On the third day Boswell went out, with old Malcolm, to see a ruined +castle, which he found less entire than was promised, but he saw the +country. I did not go, for the castle was, perhaps, ten miles off, and +there is no riding at Raarsa, the whole island being rock or mountain, +from which the cattle often fall, and are destroyed. It is very barren, +and maintains, as near as I could collect, about seven hundred +inhabitants, perhaps ten to a square mile. In these countries you are +not to suppose that you shall find villages or inclosures. The traveller +wanders through a naked desert, gratified sometimes, but rarely, with +the sight of cows, and now and then finds a heap of loose stones and +turf, in a cavity between rocks, where a being, born with all those +powers which education expands, and all those sensations which culture +refines, is condemned to shelter itself from the wind and rain. +Philosophers there are, who try to make themselves believe, that this +life is happy; but they believe it only while they are saying it, and +never yet produced conviction in a single mind; he whom want of words or +images sunk into silence still thought, as he thought before, that +privation of pleasure can never please, and that content is not to be +much envied, when it has no other principle than ignorance of good. + +This gloomy tranquillity, which some may call fortitude, and others, +wisdom, was, I believe, for a long time, to be very frequently found in +these dens of poverty; every man was content to live like his +neighbours, and, never wandering from home, saw no mode of life +preferable to his own, except at the house of the laird, or the laird's +nearest relations, whom he considered as a superiour order of beings, to +whose luxuries or honours he had no pretensions. But the end of this +reverence and submission seems now approaching; the highlanders have +learned, that there are countries less bleak and barren than their own, +where, instead of working for the laird, every man will till his own +ground, and eat the produce of his own labour. Great numbers have been +induced, by this discovery, to go, every year, for some time past, to +America. Macdonald and Macleod, of Skie, have lost many tenants and many +labourers; but Raarsa has not yet been forsaken by a single inhabitant. + +Rona is yet more rocky and barren than Raarsa, and, though it contains, +perhaps, four thousand acres, is possessed only by a herd of cattle and +the keepers. + +I find myself not very able to walk upon the mountains, but one day I +went out to see the walls, yet standing, of an ancient chapel. In almost +every island the superstitious votaries of the Romish church erected +places of worship, in which the drones of convents, or cathedrals, +performed the holy offices; but, by the active zeal of protestant +devotion, almost all of them have sunk into ruin. The chapel at Raarsa +is now only considered as the burying-place of the family, and, I +suppose, of the whole island. + +We would now have gone away, and left room for others to enjoy the +pleasures of this little court; but the wind detained us till the 12th, +when, though it was Sunday, we thought it proper to snatch the +opportunity of a calm day. Raarsa accompanied us in his six-oared boat, +which, he said, was his coach and six. It is, indeed, the vehicle in +which the ladies take the air, and pay their visits, but they have taken +very little care for accommodations. There is no way, in or out of the +boat, for a woman, but by being carried; and in the boat thus dignified +with a pompous name, there is no seat, but an occasional bundle of +straw. Thus we left Raarsa; the seat of plenty, civility, and +cheerfulness. + +We dined at a publick house at Port Re; so called, because one of the +Scottish kings landed there, in a progress through the western isles. +Raarsa paid the reckoning privately. We then got on horseback, and, by a +short, but very tedious journey, came to Kingsburgh, at which the same +king lodged, after he landed. Here I had the honour of saluting the +far-famed Miss Flora Macdonald, who conducted the prince, dressed as her +maid, through the English forces, from the island of Lewes; and, when +she came to Skie, dined with the English officers, and left her maid +below. She must then have been a very young lady; she is now not old; of +a pleasing person, and elegant behaviour. She told me, that she thought +herself honoured by my visit; and, I am sure, that whatever regard she +bestowed on me was liberally repaid. "If thou likest her opinions, thou +wilt praise her virtue." She was carried to London, but dismissed +without a trial, and came down with Malcolm Macleod, against whom +sufficient evidence could not be procured. She and her husband are poor, +and are going to try their fortune in America: + + "Sic rerum volvitur orbis." + +At Kingsburgh we were very liberally feasted, and I slept in the bed in +which the prince reposed in his distress; the sheets which he used were +never put to any meaner offices, but were wrapped up by the lady of the +house, and at last, according to her desire, were laid round her in her +grave. These are not whigs. + +On the 13th, travelling partly on horseback, where we could not row, and +partly on foot, where we could not ride, we came to Dunvegan, which I +have described already. Here, though poor Macleod had been left by his +grandfather overwhelmed with debts, we had another exhibition of feudal +hospitality. There were two stags in the house, and venison came to the +table every day in its various forms. Macleod, besides his estate in +Skie, larger, I suppose, than some English counties, is proprietor of +nine inhabited isles; and, of his islands uninhabited, I doubt if he +very exactly knows the number. I told him that he was a mighty monarch. +Such dominions fill an Englishman with envious wonder; but, when he +surveys the naked mountains, and treads the quaking moor, and wanders +over the wild regions of gloomy barrenness, his wonder may continue, but +his envy ceases. The unprofitableness of these vast domains can be +conceived only by the means of positive instances. The heir of Col, an +island not far distant, has lately told me, how wealthy he should be, if +he could let Rum, another of his islands, for twopence halfpenny an +acre; and Macleod has an estate, which the surveyor reports to contain +eighty thousand acres, rented at six hundred pounds a year. + +While we were at Dunvegan, the wind was high, and the rain violent, so +that we were not able to put forth a boat to fish in the sea, or to +visit the adjacent islands, which may be seen from the house; but we +filled up the time, as we could, sometimes by talk, sometimes by +reading. I have never wanted books in the isle of Skie. + +We were invited one day by the laird and lady of Muck, one of the +western islands, two miles long, and three quarters of a mile high. He +has half his island in his own culture, and upon the other half live one +hundred and fifty dependants, who not only live upon the product, but +export corn sufficient for the payment of their rent. + +Lady Macleod has a son and four daughters; they have lived long in +England, and have the language and manners of English ladies. We lived +with them very easily. The hospitality of this remote region is like +that of the golden age. We have found ourselves treated, at every house, +as if we came to confer a benefit. + +We were eight days at Dunvegan, but we took the first opportunity which +the weather afforded, after the first days, of going away, and, on the +21st, went to Ulinish, where we were well entertained, and wandered a +little after curiosities. In the afternoon, an interval of calm sunshine +courted us out, to see a cave on the shore, famous for its echo. When we +went into the boat, one of our companions was asked, in Erse, by the +boatmen, who they were, that came with him. He gave us characters, I +suppose, to our advantage, and was asked, in the spirit of the +highlands, whether I could recite a long series of ancestors. The +boatmen said, as I perceived afterwards, that they heard the cry of an +English ghost. This, Boswell says, disturbed him. We came to the cave, +and, clambering up the rocks, came to an arch, open at one end, one +hundred and eighty feet long, thirty broad, in the broadest part, and +about thirty high. There was no echo: such is the fidelity of report; +but I saw, what I had never seen before, muscles and whilks, in their +natural state. There was another arch in the rock, open at both ends. + +September 23rd. We removed to Talisker, a house occupied by Mr. Macleod, +a lieutenant colonel in the Dutch service. Talisker has been long in the +possession of gentlemen, and, therefore, has a garden well cultivated, +and, what is here very rare, is shaded by trees; a place where the +imagination is more amused cannot easily be found. The mountains about +it are of great height, with waterfalls succeeding one another so fast, +that as one ceases to be heard, another begins. Between the mountains +there is a small valley, extending to the sea, which is not far off, +beating upon a coast, very difficult of access. + +Two nights before our arrival, two boats were driven upon this coast by +the tempest; one of them had a pilot that knew the passage; the second +followed, but a third missed the true course, and was driven forward, +with great danger of being forced into the vast ocean, but, however, +gained, at last, some other island. The crews crept to Talisker, almost +lifeless with wet, cold, fatigue, and terrour, but the lady took care of +them. She is a woman of more than common qualifications; having +travelled with her husband, she speaks four languages. + +You find, that all the islanders, even in these recesses of life, are +not barbarous. One of the ministers, who has adhered to us almost all +the time, is an excellent scholar. We have now with us the young laird +of Col, who is heir, perhaps, to two hundred square miles of land. He +has first studied at Aberdeen, and afterwards gone to Hertfordshire, to +learn agriculture, being much impressed with desire of improvement; he, +likewise, has the notions of a chief, and keeps a piper. At Macleod's +the bagpipe always played, while we were dining. + +Col has undertaken, by permission of the waves and wind, to carry us +about several of the islands, with which he is acquainted enough to show +us whatever curious is given by nature, or left by antiquity; but we +grew afraid of deviating from our way home, lest we should be shut up +for months upon some little protuberance of rock, that just appears +above the sea, and, perhaps, is scarcely marked upon a map. + +You remember the doge of Genoa, who being asked, what struck him most at +the French court, answered, "myself." I cannot think many things here +more likely to affect the fancy, than to see Johnson ending his +sixty-fourth year in the wilderness of the Hebrides. But now I am here, it +will gratify me very little to return without seeing, or doing my best +to see, what those places afford. I have a desire to instruct myself in +the whole system of pastoral life, but I know not whether I shall be +able to perfect the idea. However, I have many pictures in my mind, +which I could not have had without this journey, and should have passed +it with great pleasure, had you, and master, and Queeney, been in the +party. We should have excited the attention, and enlarged the +observation of each other, and obtained many pleasing topicks of future +conversation. As it is, I travel with my mind too much at home, and, +perhaps, miss many things worthy of observation, or pass them with +transient notice; so that the images, for want of that reimpression +which discussion and comparison produce, easily fade away; but I keep a +book of remarks, and Boswell writes a regular journal of our travels, +which, I think, contains as much of what I say and do, as of all other +occurrences together; "for such a faithful chronicler as Griffith." + +I hope, dearest madam, you are equally careful to reposit proper +memorials of all that happens to you and your family, and then, when we +meet, we shall tell our stories. I wish you had gone this summer, in +your usual splendour, to Brighthelmstone. + +Mr. Thrale probably wonders, how I live all this time without sending to +him for money. Travelling in Scotland is dear enough, dearer, in +proportion to what the country affords, than in England, but residence +in the isles is unexpensive. Company is, I think, considered as a supply +of pleasure, and a relief of that tediousness of life which is felt in +every place, elegant or rude. Of wine and punch they are very liberal, +for they get them cheap; but as there is no custom-house on the island, +they can hardly be considered as smugglers. Their punch is made without +lemons, or any substitute. + +Their tables are very plentiful; but a very nice man would not be +pampered. As they have no meat but as they kill it, they are obliged to +live, while it lasts, upon the same flesh. They kill a sheep, and set +mutton boiled and roast on the table together. They have fish, both of +the sea and of the brooks; but they can hardly conceive that it requires +any sauce. To sauce, in general, they are strangers: now and then butter +is melted, but I dare not always take, lest I should offend by disliking +it. Barley broth is a constant dish, and is made well in every house. A +stranger, if he is prudent, will secure his share, for it is not certain +that he will be able to eat any thing else. + +Their meat, being often newly killed, is very tough, and, as nothing is +sufficiently subdued by the fire, is not easily to be eaten. Carving is +here a very laborious employment, for the knives are never whetted. +Table knives are not of long subsistence in the highlands: every man, +while arms were a regular part of dress, had his knife and fork +appendant to his dirk. Knives they now lay upon the table, but the +handles are apt to show that they have been in other hands, and the +blades have neither brightness nor edge. + +Of silver, there is no want, and it will last long, for it is never +cleaned. They are a nation just rising from barbarity: long contented +with necessaries, now somewhat studious of convenience, but not yet +arrived at delicate discriminations. Their linen is, however, both clean +and fine. Bread, such as we mean by that name, I have never seen in the +isle of Skie. They have ovens, for they bake their pies; but they never +ferment their meal, nor mould a loaf. Cakes of oats and barley are +brought to the table, but I believe wheat is reserved for strangers. +They are commonly too hard for me, and, therefore, I take potatoes to my +meat, and am sure to find them on almost every table. + +They retain so much of the pastoral life, that some preparation of milk +is commonly one of the dishes, both at dinner and supper. Tea is always +drunk at the usual times; but, in the morning, the table is polluted +with a plate of slices of strong cheese. This is peculiar to the +highlands; at Edinburgh there are always honey and sweetmeats on the +morning tea-table. + +Strong liquors they seem to love. Every man, perhaps, woman, begins the +day with a dram; and the punch is made both at dinner and supper. + +They have neither wood nor coal for fuel, but burn peat or turf in their +chimneys. It is dug out of the moors or mosses, and makes a strong and +lasting fire, not always very sweet, and somewhat apt to smoke the pot. + +The houses of inferiour gentlemen are very small, and every room serves +many purposes. In the bed-rooms, perhaps, are laid up stores of +different kinds; and the parlour of the day is a bed-room at night. In +the room which I inhabited last, about fourteen feet square, there were +three chests of drawers, a long chest for larger clothes, two +closet-cupboards, and the bed. Their rooms are commonly dirty, of which +they seem to have little sensibility, and if they had more, clean floors +would be difficultly kept, where the first step from the door is into +the dirt. They are very much inclined to carpets, and seldom fail to lay +down something under their feet, better or worse, as they happen to be +furnished. + +The highland dress, being forbidden by law, is very little used; +sometimes it may be seen, but the English traveller is struck with +nothing so much as the _nudite des pieds_ of the common people. + +Skie is the greatest island, or the greatest but one, among the +Hebrides. Of the soil, I have already given some account: it is +generally barren, but some spots are not wholly unfruitful. The gardens +have apples and pears, cherries, strawberries, raspberries, currants, +and gooseberries, but all the fruit, that I have seen, is small. They +attempt to sow nothing but oats and barley. Oats constitute the bread-corn +of the place. Their harvest is about the beginning of October; and, +being so late, is very much subject to disappointments from the rains +that follow the equinox. This year has been particularly disastrous. +Their rainy season lasts from autumn to spring. They have seldom very +hard frosts; nor was it ever known that a lake was covered with ice +strong enough to bear a skater. The sea round them is always open. The +snow falls, but soon melts; only in 1771, they had a cold spring, in +which the island was so long covered with it, that many beasts, both +wild and domestick, perished, and the whole country was reduced to +distress, from which I know not if it is even yet recovered. + +The animals here are not remarkably small; perhaps they recruit their +breed from the mainland. The cows are sometimes without horns. The +horned and unhorned cattle are not accidental variations, but different +species: they will, however, breed together. + +October 3rd. The wind is now changed, and if we snatch the moment of +opportunity, an escape from this island is become practicable; I have no +reason to complain of my reception, yet I long to be again at home. + +You and my master may, perhaps, expect, after this description of Skie, +some account of myself. My eye is, I am afraid, not fully recovered; my +ears are not mended; my nerves seem to grow weaker, and I have been +otherwise not as well as I sometimes am, but think myself, lately, +better. This climate, perhaps, is not within my degree of healthy +latitude. + +Thus I have given my most honoured mistress the story of me and my +little ramble. We are now going to some other isle, to what we know not; +the wind will tell us. I am, &c. + + +XXV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Mull, Oct. 15, 1773. + +DEAR MADAM,--Though I have written to Mr. Thrale, yet having a little +more time than was promised me, I would not suffer the messenger to go +without some token of my duty to my mistress, who, I suppose, expects +the usual tribute of intelligence, a tribute which I am not very able to +pay. + +October 3rd. After having been detained, by storms, many days in Skie, +we left it, as we thought, with a fair wind; but a violent gust, which +Bos. had a great mind to call a tempest, forced us into Col, an obscure +island; on which + +--"nulla campis Arbor aestiva recreatur aura." + +There is literally no tree upon the island, part of it is a sandy waste, +over which it would be really dangerous to travel in dry weather, and +with a high wind. It seems to be little more than one continued rock, +covered, from space to space, with a thin layer of earth. It is, +however, according to the highland notion, very populous, and life is +improved beyond the manners of Skie; for the huts are collected into +little villages, and every one has a small garden of roots and cabbage. +The laird has a new house built by his uncle, and an old castle +inhabited by his ancestors. The young laird entertained us very +liberally; he is heir, perhaps, to three hundred square miles of land, +which, at ten shillings an acre, would bring him ninety-six thousand +pounds a year. He is desirous of improving the agriculture of his +country; and, in imitation of the czar, travelled for improvement, and +worked, with his own hands, upon a farm in Hertfordshire, in the +neighbourhood of your uncle, sir Thomas Salusbury. He talks of doing +useful things, and has introduced turnips for winter fodder. He has made +a small essay towards a road. + +Col is but a barren place. Description has here few opportunities of +spreading her colours. The difference of day and night is the only +vicissitude. The succession of sunshine to rain, or of calms to +tempests, we have not known; wind and rain have been our only weather. + +At last, after about nine days, we hired a sloop; and having lain in it +all night, with such accommodations as these miserable vessels can +afford, were landed yesterday on the isle of Mull; from which we expect +an easy passage into Scotland. I am sick in a ship, but recover by lying +down. + +I have not good health; I do not find that travelling much helps me. My +nights are flatulent, though not in the utmost degree, and I have a +weakness in my knees, which makes me very unable to walk. Pray, dear +madam, let me have a long letter. I am, &c. + + +XXVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Inverary, Oct. 24, 1773. + +HONOURED MISTRESS,--My last letters to you, and my dear master, were +written from Mull, the third island of the Hebrides in extent. There is +no post, and I took the opportunity of a gentleman's passage to the +mainland. + +In Mull we were confined two days by the weather; on the third we got on +horseback, and, after a journey, difficult and tedious, over rocks +naked, and valleys untracked, through a country of barrenness and +solitude, we came, almost in the dark, to the seaside, weary and +dejected, having met with nothing but water falling from the mountains +that could raise any image of delight. Our company was the young laird +of Col, and his servant. Col made every Maclean open his house, where he +came, and supply us with horses, when we departed; but the horses of +this country are small, and I was not mounted to my wish. + +At the seaside we found the ferryboat departed; if it had been where it +was expected, the wind was against us, and the hour was late, nor was it +very desirable to cross the sea, in darkness, with a small boat. The +captain of a sloop, that had been driven thither by the storms, saw our +distress, and, as we were hesitating and deliberating, sent his boat, +which, by Col's order, transported us to the isle of Ulva. We were +introduced to Mr. Macquarry, the head of a small clan, whose ancestors +have reigned in Ulva beyond memory, but who has reduced himself, by his +negligence and folly, to the necessity of selling this venerable +patrimony. + +On the next morning we passed the strait to Inch Kenneth, an island +about a mile in length, and less than half a mile broad; in which +Kenneth, a Scottish saint, established a small clerical college, of +which the chapel walls are still standing. At this place I beheld a +scene, which I wish you, and my master, and Queeney had partaken. + +The only family on the island is that of sir Allan, the chief of the +ancient and numerous clan of Maclean; the clan which claims the second +place, yielding only to Macdonald in the line of battle. Sir Allan, a +chieftain, a baronet, and a soldier, inhabits, in this insulated desert, +a thatched hut, with no chambers. Young Col, who owns him as his chief, +and whose cousin was his lady, had, I believe, given him some notice of +our visit; he received us with the soldier's frankness, and the +gentleman's elegance, and introduced us to his daughters, two young +ladies, who have not wanted education suitable to their birth, and who, +in their cottage, neither forgot their dignity, nor affected to remember +it. Do not you wish to have been with us? + +Sir Allan's affairs are in disorder, by the fault of his ancestors: and, +while he forms some scheme for retrieving them, he has retreated hither. + +When our salutations were over, he showed us the island. We walked, +uncovered, into the chapel, and saw, in the reverend ruin, the effects +of precipitate reformation. The floor is covered with ancient +grave-stones, of which the inscriptions are not now legible; and without, +some of the chief families still continue the right of sepulture. The +altar is not yet quite demolished; beside it, on the right side, is a +bass-relief of the virgin with her child, and an angel hovering over her. +On the other side still stands a hand-bell, which, though it has no +clapper, neither presbyterian bigotry, nor barbarian wantonness, has yet +taken away. The chapel is thirty-eight feet long, and eighteen broad. +Boswell, who is very pious, went into it at night, to perform his +devotions, but came back, in haste, for fear of spectres. Near the +chapel is a fountain, to which the water, remarkably pure, is conveyed +from a distant hill, through pipes laid by the Romish clergy, which +still perform the office of conveyance, though they have never been +repaired, since popery was suppressed. + +We soon after went in to dinner, and wanted neither the comforts nor the +elegancies of life. There were several dishes, and variety of liquors. +The servants live in another cottage; in which, I suppose, the meat is +dressed. + +Towards evening, sir Allan told us, that Sunday never passed over him, +like another day. One of the ladies read, and read very well, the +evening service;--and paradise was opened in the wild. + +Next day, 18th, we went and wandered among the rocks on the shore, while +the boat was busy in catching oysters, of which there is a great bed. +Oysters lie upon the sand, one, I think, sticking to another, and +cockles are found a few inches under the sand. + +We then went in the boat to Sondiland, a little island very near. We +found it a wild rock, of about ten acres; part naked, part covered with +sand, out of which we picked shells; and part clothed with a thin layer +of mould, on the grass of which a few sheep are sometimes fed. We then +came back and dined. I passed part of the afternoon in reading, and in +the evening one of the ladies played on her harpsichord, and Boswell and +Col danced a reel with the other. + +On the 19th, we persuaded sir Allan to lanch his boat again, and go with +us to Icolmkill, where the first great preacher of Christianity to the +Scots built a church, and settled a monastery. In our way we stopped to +examine a very uncommon cave on the coast of Mull. We had some +difficulty to make our way over the vast masses of broken rocks that lie +before the entrance, and at the mouth were embarrassed with stones, +which the sea had accumulated, as at Brighthelmstone; but, as we +advanced, we reached a floor of soft sand, and, as we left the light +behind us, walked along a very spacious cavity, vaulted over head with +an arch almost regular, by which a mountain was sustained, at least a +very lofty rock. From this magnificent cavern, went a narrow passage to +the right hand, which we entered with a candle; and though it was +obstructed with great stones, clambered over them to a second expansion +of the cave, in which there lies a great square stone, which might serve +as a table. The air here was very warm, but not oppressive, and the +flame of the candle continued pyramidal. The cave goes onward to an +unknown extent, but we were now one hundred and sixty yards under +ground; we had but one candle, and had never heard of any that went +farther and came back; we, therefore, thought it prudent to return. + +Going forward in our boat, we came to a cluster of rocks, black and +horrid, which sir Allan chose for the place where he would eat his +dinner. We climbed till we got seats. The stores were opened, and the +repast taken. + +We then entered the boat again; the night came upon us; the wind rose; +the sea swelled; and Boswell desired to be set on dry ground: we, +however, pursued our navigation, and passed by several little islands in +the silent solemnity of faint moonshine, seeing little, and hearing only +the wind and the water. At last, we reached the island, the venerable +seat of ancient sanctity; where secret piety reposed, and where falling +greatness was reposited. The island has no house of entertainment, and +we manfully made our bed in a farmer's barn. The description I hope to +give you another time. I am, &c. + + +XXVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, Nov. 12, 1773. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Among the possibilities of evil, which my imagination +suggested at this distance, I missed that which has really happened. I +never had much hope of a will in your favour, but was willing to believe +that no will would have been made. The event is now irrevocable; it +remains only to bear it. Not to wish it had been different, is +impossible; but as the wish is painful without use, it is not prudent, +perhaps, not lawful, to indulge it. As life, and vigour of mind, and +sprightliness of imagination, and flexibility of attention, are given us +for valuable and useful purposes, we must not think ourselves at liberty +to squander life, to enervate intellectual strength, to cloud our +thoughts, or fix our attention, when, by all this expense, we know that +no good can be produced. Be alone as little as you can; when you are +alone, do not suffer your thoughts to dwell on what you might have done, +to prevent this disappointment. You, perhaps, could not have done what +you imagine, or might have done it without effect. But even to think in +the most reasonable manner, is, for the present, not so useful, as not +to think. Remit yourself solemnly into the hands of God, and then turn +your mind upon the business and amusements which lie before you. "All is +best," says Chene, "as it has been, excepting the errours of our own +free will." Burton concludes his long book upon Melancholy, with this +important precept: "Be not solitary; be not idle." Remember Chene's +position, and observe Burton's precept. + +We came hither on the ninth of this month. I long to come under your +care, but, for some days, cannot decently get away. They congratulate +our return, as if we had been with Phipps, or Banks; I am ashamed of +their salutations. + +I have been able to collect very little for Queeney's cabinet; but she +will not want toys now, she is so well employed. I wish her success; and +am not without some thought of becoming her schoolfellow. I have got an +Italian Rasselas. + +Surely my dear Lucy will recover; I wish, I could do her good. I love +her very much; and should love another godchild, if I might have the +honour of standing to the next baby. I am, &c. + + +XXVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Edinburgh, Nov. 18, 1773. + +MY DEAREST MISTRESS,--This is the last letter that I shall write; while +you are reading it, I shall be coming home. + +I congratulate you upon your boy; but you must not think that I will +love him, all at once, as well as I love Harry; for Harry, you know, is +so rational. I shall love him by degrees. + +Poor, pretty, dear Lucy! Can nothing do her good? I am sorry to lose +her. But, if she must be taken from us, let us resign her, with +confidence, into the hands of him who knows, and who only knows, what is +best both for us and her. + +Do not suffer yourself to be dejected. Resolution and diligence will +supply all that is wanting, and all that is lost. But if your health +should be impaired, I know not where to find a substitute. I shall have +no mistress; Mr. Thrale will have no wife; and the little flock will +have no mother. + +I long to be home, and have taken a place in the coach for Monday; I +hope, therefore, to be in London on Friday, the 26th, in the evening. +Please to let Mrs. Williams know. I am, &c. + + +XXIX.--To THE SAME. + +Lichfield, June 23, 1775. + +DEAR MADAM,--Now I hope you are thinking: Shall I have a letter to-day +from Lichfield? Something of a letter you will have; how else can I +expect that you should write? and the morning, on which I should miss a +letter, would be a morning of uneasiness, notwithstanding all that would +be said or done by the sisters of Stowhill, who do and say whatever good +they can. They give me good words, and cherries, and strawberries. Lady +****, and her mother and sister, were visiting there yesterday, and +Lady ---- took her tea before her mother. + +Mrs. Cobb is to come to Miss Porter's this afternoon. Miss A--comes +little near me. Mr. Langley, of Ashbourne, was here to-day, in his way +to Birmingham, and every body talks of you. + +The ladies of the Amicable society are to walk, in a few days, from the +townhall to the cathedral, in procession, to hear a sermon. They walk in +linen gowns, and each has a stick, with an acorn; but for the acorn they +could give no reason, till I told them of the civick crown. + +I have just had your sweet letter, and am glad that you are to be at the +regatta. You know how little I love to have you left out of any shining +part of life. You have every right to distinction, and should, +therefore, be distinguished. You will see a show with philosophick +superiority, and, therefore, may see it safely. It is easy to talk of +sitting at home, contented, when others are seeing, or making shows. +But, not to have been where it is supposed, and seldom supposed falsely, +that all would go if they could; to be able to say nothing, when every +one is talking; to have no opinion, when every one is judging; to hear +exclamations of rapture, without power to depress; to listen to +falsehoods, without right to contradict, is, after all, a state of +temporary inferiority, in which the mind is rather hardened by +stubbornness, than supported by fortitude. If the world be worth +winning, let us enjoy it; if it is to be despised, let us despise it by +conviction. But the world is not to be despised, but as it is compared +with something better. Company is, in itself, better than solitude, and +pleasure better than indolence: "Ex nihilo nihil fit," says the moral, +as well as the natural, philosopher. By doing nothing, and by knowing +nothing, no power of doing good can be obtained. He must mingle with the +world, that desires to be useful. Every new scene impresses new ideas, +enriches the imagination, and enlarges the power of reason, by new +topicks of comparison. You, that have seen the regatta, will have +images, which we, who miss it, must want; and no intellectual images are +without use. But, when you are in this scene of splendour and gaiety, do +not let one of your fits of negligence steal upon you. "Hoc age," is the +great rule, whether you are serious or merry; whether you are stating +the expenses of your family, learning science, or duty, from a folio, or +floating on the Thames in a fancied dress. Of the whole entertainment, +let me not hear so copious, nor so true an account, from any body as +from you. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +XXX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sure I write and write, and every letter that comes +from you charges me with not writing. Since I wrote to Queeney I have +written twice to you, on the 6th and the 9th: be pleased to let me know +whether you have them, or have them not. That of the 6th you should +regularly have had on the 8th, yet your letter of the 9th seems not to +mention it; all this puzzles me. + +Poor dear ****! He only grows dull, because he is sickly; age has not +yet begun to impair him; nor is he such a chameleon as to take +immediately the colour of his company. When you see him again you will +find him reanimated. Most men have their bright and their cloudy days; +at least they have days when they put their powers into action, and days +when they suffer them to repose. + +Fourteen thousand pounds make a sum sufficient for the establishment of +a family, and which, in whatever flow of riches or confidence of +prosperity, deserves to be very seriously considered. I hope a great +part of it has paid debts, and no small part bought land. As for +gravelling, and walling, and digging, though I am not much delighted +with them, yet something, indeed much, must be allowed to every man's +taste. He that is growing rich has a right to enjoy part of the growth +his own way. I hope to range in the walk, and row upon the water, and +devour fruit from the wall. + +Dr. Taylor wants to be gardening. He means to buy a piece of ground in +the neighbourhood, and surround it with a wall, and build a gardener's +house upon it, and have fruit, and be happy. Much happiness it will not +bring him; but what can he do better? If I had money enough, what would +I do? Perhaps, if you and master did not hold me, I might go to Cairo, +and down the Red sea to Bengal, and take a ramble in India. Would this +be better than building and planting? It would surely give more variety +to the eye, and more amplitude to the mind. Half fourteen thousand would +send me out to see other forms of existence, and bring me back to +describe them. + +I answer this the day on which I had yours of the 9th, that is on the +11th. Let me know when it comes. I am, &c. + + +XXXI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, August 2, 1775. + +MADAM,--I dined to-day at Stowhill, and am come away to write my letter. +Never, surely, was I such a writer before. Do you keep my letters? I am +not of your opinion, that I shall not like to read them hereafter; for +though there is in them not much history of mind, or anything else, they +will, I hope, always be, in some degree, the records of a pure and +blameless friendship, and, in some hours of languor and sadness, may +revive the memory of more cheerful times. + +Why you should suppose yourself not desirous hereafter to read the +history of your own mind, I do not see. Twelve years, on which you now +look, as on a vast expanse of life, will, probably, be passed over +uniformly and smoothly, with very little perception of your progress, +and with very few remarks upon the way. The accumulation of knowledge, +which you promise to yourself, by which the future is to look back upon +the present, with the superiority of manhood to infancy, will, perhaps, +never be attempted, or never will be made; and you will find, as +millions have found before you, that forty-five has made little sensible +addition to thirty-three. + +As the body, after a certain time, gains no increase of height, and +little of strength, there is, likewise, a period, though more variable +by external causes, when the mind commonly attains its stationary point, +and very little advances its powers of reflection, judgment, and +ratiocination. The body may acquire new modes of motion, or new +dexterities of mechanick operations, but its original strength receives +not improvement: the mind may be stored with new languages, or new +sciences, but its power of thinking remains nearly the same, and, unless +it attains new subjects of meditation, it commonly produces thoughts of +the same force and the same extent, at very distant intervals of life; +as the tree, unless a foreign fruit be ingrafted, gives, year after +year, productions of the same form, and the same flavour. + +By intellectual force, or strength of thought, is meant the degree of +power which the mind possesses of surveying the subject of meditation, +with its circuit of concomitants, and its train of dependence. + +Of this power, which all observe to be very different in different +minds, part seems the gift of nature, and part the acquisition of +experience. When the powers of nature have attained their intended +energy, they can be no more advanced. The shrub can never become a tree. +And it is not unreasonable to suppose, that they are, before the middle +of life, in their full vigour. + +Nothing then remains but practice and experience; and, perhaps, why they +do so little, may be worth inquiry. + +But I have just now looked, and find it so late, that I will inquire +against the next post night. I am, &c. + + +XXXII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, Augusts, 1775. + +DEAR MADAM,--Instead of forty reasons for my return, one is sufficient, +--that you wish for my company. I purpose to write no more till you see +me. The ladies at Stowhill and Greenhill are unanimously of opinion, +that it will be best to take a post chaise, and not to be troubled with +the vexations of a common carriage. I will venture to suppose the ladies +at Streatham to be of the same mind. + +You will now expect to be told, why you will not be so much wiser, as +you expect, when you have lived twelve years longer. + +It is said, and said truly, that experience is the best teacher; and it +is supposed, that, as life is lengthened, experience is increased. But a +closer inspection of human life will discover, that time often passes +without any incident which can much enlarge knowledge, or ratify +judgment. When we are young we learn much, because we are universally +ignorant; we observe every thing, because every thing is new. But, after +some years, the occurrences of daily life are exhausted; one day passes +like another, in the same scene of appearances, in the same course of +transactions: we have to do what we have often done, and what we do not +try, because we do not wish to do much better; we are told what we +already know, and, therefore, what repetition cannot make us know with +greater certainty. + +He that has early learned much, perhaps, seldom makes, with regard to +life and manners, much addition to his knowledge; not only, because, as +more is known, there is less to learn, but because a mind, stored with +images and principles, turns inwards for its own entertainment, and is +employed in settling those ideas, which run into confusion, and in +recollecting those which are stealing away; practices by which wisdom +may be kept, but not gained. The merchant, who was at first busy in +acquiring money, ceases to grow richer, from the time when he makes it +his business only to count it. + +Those who have families, or employments, are engaged in business of +little difficulty, but of great importance, requiring rather assiduity +of practice than subtilty of speculation, occupying the attention with +images too bulky for refinement, and too obvious for research. The right +is already known: what remains is only to follow it. Daily business adds +no more to wisdom, than daily lesson to the learning of the teacher. But +of how few lives does not stated duty claim the greater part! + +Far the greater part of human minds never endeavour their own +improvement. Opinions, once received from instruction, or settled by +whatever accident, are seldom recalled to examination; having been once +supposed to be right, they are never discovered to be erroneous, for no +application is made of any thing that time may present, either to shake +or to confirm them. From this acquiescence in preconceptions none are +wholly free; between fear of uncertainty, and dislike of labour, every +one rests while he might yet go forward; and they that were wise at +thirty-three, are very little wiser at forty-five. + +Of this speculation you are, perhaps, tired, and would rather hear of +Sophy. I hope, before this comes, that her head will be easier, and your +head less filled with fears and troubles, which you know are to be +indulged only to prevent evil, not to increase it. + +Your uneasiness about Sophy is, probably, unnecessary, and, at worst, +your own children are healthful, and your affairs prosperous. Unmingled +good cannot be expected; but, as we may lawfully gather all the good +within our reach, we may be allowed to lament after that which we lose. +I hope your losses are at an end, and that, as far as the condition of +our present existence permits, your remaining life will be happy. I am, +&c. + + +XXXIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, March 25, 1776. + +DEAR MADAM,--This letter will not, I hope, reach you many days before +me; in a distress which can be so little relieved, nothing remains for a +friend, but to come and partake it. + +Poor, dear, sweet little boy! When I read the letter this day to Mrs. +Aston, she said, "such a death is the next to translation." Yet, however +I may convince myself of this, the tears are in my eyes, and yet I could +not love him as you loved him, nor reckon upon him for a future comfort, +as you and his father reckoned upon him. + +He is gone, and we are going! We could not have enjoyed him long, and +shall not long be separated from him. He has, probably, escaped many +such pangs as you are now feeling. + +Nothing remains, but that, with humble confidence we resign ourselves to +almighty goodness, and fall down, without irreverent murmurs, before the +sovereign distributer of good and evil, with hope, that though sorrow +endureth for a night, yet joy may come in the morning. + +I have known you, madam, too long to think that you want any arguments +for submission to the supreme will; nor can my consolation have any +effect, but that of showing that I wish to comfort you. What can be +done, you must do for yourself. Remember first, that your child is +happy; and then, that he is safe, not only from the ills of this world, +but from those more formidable dangers which extend their mischief to +eternity. You have brought into the world a rational being; have seen +him happy during the little life that has been granted him; and can have +no doubt but that his happiness is now permanent and immutable. + +When you have obtained, by prayer, such tranquillity as nature will +admit, force your attention, as you can, upon your accustomed duties and +accustomed entertainments. You can do no more for our dear boy, but you +must not, therefore, think less on those whom your attention may make +fitter for the place to which he is gone. I am, dearest, dearest madam, +your most affectionate humble servant. + + +XXXIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Sept. 6, 1777. + +DEAREST LADY,--It is true, that I have loitered, and, what is worse, +loitered with very little pleasure. The time has run away, as most time +runs, without account, without use, and without memorial. But, to say +this of a few weeks, though not pleasing, might be borne; but what ought +to be the regret of him who, in a few days, will have so nearly the same +to say of sixty-eight years? But complaint is vain. + +If you have nothing to say from the neighbourhood of the metropolis, +what can occur to me, in little cities and petty towns; in places which +we have both seen, and of which no description is wanted? I have left +part of the company with which you dined here, to come and write this +letter, in which I have nothing to tell, but that my nights are very +tedious. I cannot persuade myself to forbear trying something. + +As you have now little to do, I suppose you are pretty diligent at the +Thraliana; and a very curious collection posterity will find it. Do not +remit the practice of writing down occurrences as they arise, of +whatever kind, and be very punctual in annexing the dates. Chronology, +you know, is the eye of history; and every man's life is of importance +to himself. Do not omit painful casualties, or unpleasing passages; they +make the variegation of existence; and there are many transactions, of +which I will not promise, with Aeneas, "et haec olim meminisse juvabit;" +yet that remembrance which is not pleasant, may be useful. There is, +however, an intemperate attention to slight circumstances, which is to +be avoided, lest a great part of life be spent in writing the history of +the rest. Every day, perhaps, has something to be noted; but in a +settled and uniform course, few days can have much. + +Why do I write all this, which I had no thought of when I began! The +Thraliana drove it all into my head. It deserves, however, an hour's +reflection, to consider how, with the least loss of time, the loss of +what we wish to retain may be prevented. + +Do not neglect to write to me, for when a post comes empty, I am really +disappointed. + +Boswell, I believe, will meet me here. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XXXV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, October 3, 1777, + +DEAR MADAM,--This is the last time that I shall write, in this +excursion, from this place. To-morrow I shall be, I hope, at Birmingham; +from which place I shall do my best to find the nearest way home. I come +home, I think, worse than I went; and do not like the state of my +health. But, "vive hodie," make the most of life. I hope to get better, +and--sweep the cobwebs. But I have sad nights. Mrs. Aston has sent me to +Mr. Greene, to be cured. + +Did you see Foote at Brighthelmstone?--Did you think he would so soon be +gone?--Life, says Falstaff, is a shuttle. He was a fine fellow in his +way; and the world is really impoverished by his sinking glories. Murphy +ought to write his life, at least, to give the world a Footeiana. Now, +will any of his contemporaries bewail him? Will genius change _his sex_ +to weep? I would really have his life written with diligence. + +It will be proper for me to work pretty diligently now for some time. I +hope to get through, though so many weeks have passed. Little lives and +little criticisms may serve. + +Having been in the country so long, with very little to detain me, I am +rather glad to look homewards. I am, &c. + + +XXXVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +October 13, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--Yet I do love to hear from you: such pretty, kind letters +as you send. But it gives me great delight to find that my master misses +me, I begin to wish myself with you more than I should do, if I were +wanted less. It is a good thing to stay away, till one's company is +desired, but not so good to stay, after it is desired. + +You know I have some work to do. I did not set to it very soon; and if I +should go up to London with nothing done, what would be said, but that I +was--who can tell what? I, therefore, stay till I can bring up something +to stop their mouths, and then-- + +Though I am still at Ashbourne, I receive your dear letters, that come +to Lichfield, and you continue that direction, for I think to get +thither as soon as I can. + +One of the does died yesterday, and I am afraid her fawn will be +starved; I wish Miss Thrale had it to nurse; but the doctor is now all +for cattle, and minds very little either does or hens. + +How did you and your aunt part? Did you turn her out of doors, to begin +your journey? or did she leave you by her usual shortness of visits? I +love to know how you go on. + +I cannot but think on your kindness and my master's. Life has, upon the +whole, fallen short, very short, of my early expectation; but the +acquisition of such a friendship, at an age, when new friendships are +seldom acquired, is something better than the general course of things +gives man a right to expect. I think on it with great delight: I am not +very apt to be delighted. I am, &c. + + +XXXVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Lichfield, October 27, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--You talk of writing and writing, as if you had all the +writing to yourself. If our correspondence were printed, I am sure +posterity, for posterity is always the author's favourite, would say +that I am a good writer too.--"Anch'io sono pittore." To sit down so +often with nothing to say; to say something so often, almost without +consciousness of saying, and without any remembrance of having said, is +a power of which I will not violate my modesty by boasting, but I do not +believe that every body has it. + +Some, when they write to their friends, are all affection; some are wise +and sententious; some strain their powers for efforts of gaiety; some +write news, and some write secrets; but to make a letter without +affection, without wisdom, without gaiety, without news, and without a +secret, is, doubtless, the great epistolick art. + +In a man's letters, you know, madam, his soul lies naked, his letters +are only the mirror of his breast; whatever passes within him, is shown, +undisguised, in its natural process; nothing is inverted, nothing +distorted: you see systems in their elements; you discover actions in +their motives. + +Of this great truth, sounded by the knowing to the ignorant, and so +echoed by the ignorant to the knowing, what evidence have you now before +you? Is not my soul laid open in these veracious pages? Do not you see +me reduced to my first principles? This is the pleasure of corresponding +with a friend, where doubt and distrust have no place, and every thing +is said as it is thought. The original idea is laid down in its simple +purity, and all the supervenient conceptions are spread over it, +"stratum super stratum," as they happen to be formed. These are the +letters by which souls are united, and by which minds, naturally in +unison, move each other, as they are moved themselves. I know, dearest +lady, that in the perusal of this, such is the consanguinity of our +intellects, you will be touched, as I am touched. I have, indeed, +concealed nothing from you, nor do I expect ever to repent of having +thus opened my heart. I am, &c. + + +XXXVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +November 10, 1777. + +DEAR MADAM,--And so, supposing that I might come to town, and neglect to +give you notice, or thinking some other strange thought, but certainly +thinking wrong, you fall to writing about me to Tom Davies, as if he +could tell you anything that I would not have you know. As soon as I +came hither, I let you know of my arrival; and the consequence is, that +I am summoned to Brighthelmstone, through storms, and cold, and dirt, +and all the hardships of wintry journeys. You know my natural dread of +all those evils; yet, to show my master an example of compliance, and to +let you know how much I long to see you, and to boast how little I give +way to disease, my purpose is to be with you on Friday. + +I am sorry for poor Nezzy, and hope she will, in time, be better; I hope +the same for myself. The rejuvenescency of Mr. Scrase gives us both +reason to hope, and, therefore, both of us rejoice in his recovery. I +wish him well, besides, as a friend to my master. + +I am just come home from not seeing my lord mayor's show, but I might +have seen, at least, part of it. But I saw Miss Wesley and her brothers; +she sends her compliments. Mrs. Williams is come home, I think, a very +little better. + +Every body was an enemy to that wig.--We will burn it, and get drunk; +for what is joy without drink? Wagers are laid in the city about our +success, which is yet, as the French call it, problematical. Well--but, +seriously, I think, I shall be glad to see you in your own hair; but do +not take too much time in combing, and twisting, and papering, and +unpapering, and curling, and frizling, and powdering, and getting out +the powder, with all the other operations required in the cultivation of +a head of hair; yet let it be combed, at least, once in three months on +the quarterday.--I could wish it might be combed once at least, in six +weeks; if I were to indulge my wishes but what are wishes without hopes, +I should fancy the operation performed--one knows not when one has +enough--perhaps, every morning. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XXXIX.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, June 14, 1779. + +DEAR MADAM,--Your account of Mr. Thrale's illness is very terrible; but +when I remember that he seems to have it peculiar to his constitution, +that, whatever distemper he has, he always has his head affected, I am +less frighted. The seizure was, I think, not apoplectical but +hysterical, and, therefore, not dangerous to life. I would have you, +however, consult such physicians as you think you can best trust. +Broomfield seems to have done well and, by his practice, appears not to +suspect an apoplexy. This is a solid and fundamental comfort. I remember +Dr. Marsigli, an Italian physician, whose seizure was more violent than +Mr. Thrale's, for he fell down helpless, but his case was not considered +as of much danger, and he went safe home, and is now a professor at +Padua. His fit was considered as only hysterical. + +I hope sir Philip, who franked your letter, comforts you as well as Mr. +Seward. If I can comfort you, I will come to you; but I hope you are now +no longer in want of any help to be happy. I am, &c. + +The doctor sends his compliments; he is one of the people that are +growing old. + + +XL.--To MRS. THRALE. + +Ashbourne, June 14, 1779. + +DEAR MADAM,--How near we are all to extreme danger. We are merry or sad, +or busy or idle, and forget that death is hovering over us. You are a +dear lady for writing again. The case, as you now describe it, is worse +than I conceived it, when I read your first letter. It is still, +however, not apoplectick, but seems to have something worse than +hysterical--a tendency to a palsy, which, I hope, however, is now over. +I am glad that you have Heberden, and hope we are all safer. I am the +more alarmed by this violent seizure, as I can impute it to no wrong +practices, or intemperance of any kind, and, therefore, know not how any +defence or preservative can be obtained. Mr. Thrale has, certainly, less +exercise than when he followed the foxes; but he is very far from +unwieldiness or inactivity, and further still from any vitious or +dangerous excess. I fancy, however, he will do well to ride more. + +Do, dear madam, let me know, every post, how he goes on. Such sudden +violence is very dreadful; we know not by what it is let loose upon us, +nor by what its effects are limited. + +If my coming can either assist or divert, or be useful to any purpose, +let me but know: I will soon be with you. Mrs. Kennedy, Queeney's +Baucis, ended, last week, a long life of disease and poverty. She had +been married about fifty years. + +Dr. Taylor is not much amiss, but always complaining. I am, &c. + + +XLI.--To MR. THRALE. + +Lichfield, June 23, 1779. + +DEAR SIR,--To show how well I think of your health, I have sent you a +hundred pounds, to keep for me. It will come within one day of +quarterday, and that day you must give me. I came by it in a very +uncommon manner, and would not confound it with the rest. + +My wicked mistress talks as if she thought it possible for me to be +indifferent or negligent about your health or hers. If I could have done +any good, I had not delayed an hour to come to you; and I will come very +soon, to try if my advice can be of any use, or my company of any +entertainment. + +What can be done, you must do for yourself: do not let any uneasy +thought settle in your mind. Cheerfulness and exercise are your great +remedies. Nothing is, for the present, worth your anxiety. "Vivite +laeti" is one of the great rules of health. I believe it will be good to +ride often, but never to weariness, for weariness is, itself, a +temporary resolution of the nerves, and is, therefore, to be avoided. +Labour is exercise continued to fatigue--exercise is labour used only, +while it produces pleasure. + +Above all, keep your mind quiet: do not think with earnestness even of +your health; but think on such things as may please without too much +agitation; among which, I hope, is, dear sir, your, &c. + + +XLII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAR MADAM,--On Sunday I dined with poor Lawrence, who is deafer than +ever. When he was told that Dr. Moisy visited Mr. Thrale, he inquired +for what? and said there was nothing to be done, which nature would not +do for herself. On Sunday evening, I was at Mrs. Vesy's, and there was +inquiry about my master, but I told them all good. There was Dr. Bernard +of Eton, and we made a noise all the evening; and there was Pepys, and +Wraxal, till I drove him away. And I have no loss of my mistress, who +laughs, and frisks, and frolicks it all the long day, and never thinks +of poor Colin. + +If Mr. Thrale will but continue to mend, we shall, I hope, come together +again, and do as good things as ever we did; but, perhaps, you will be +made too proud to heed me, and yet, as I have often told you, it will +not be easy for you to find such another. + +Queeney has been a good girl, and wrote me a letter; if Burney said she +would write, she told you a fib. She writes nothing to me. She can write +home fast enough. I have a good mind not to let her know that Dr. +Bernard, to whom I had recommended her novel, speaks of it with great +commendation, and that the copy which she lent me, has been read by Dr. +Lawrence three times over. And yet what a gipsy it is. She no more minds +me than if I were a Brangton. Pray speak to Queeney to write again. + +I have had a cold and a cough, and taken opium, and think I am better. +We have had very cold weather; bad riding weather for my master, but he +will surmount it all. Did Mrs. Browne make any reply to your comparison +of business with solitude, or did you quite down her? I am much pleased +to think that Mrs. Cotton thinks me worth a frame, and a place upon her +wall; her kindness was hardly within my hope, but time does wonderful +things. All my fear is, that if I should come again, my print would be +taken down. I fear I shall never hold it. + +Who dines with you? Do you see Dr. Woodward, or Dr. Harrington? Do you +go to the house where they write for the myrtle? You are at all places +of high resort, and bring home hearts by dozens; while I am seeking for +something to say about men, of whom I know nothing, but their verses, +and, sometimes, very little of them. Now I have begun, however, I do not +despair of making an end. Mr. Nichols holds, that Addison is the most +taking of all that I have done. I doubt they will not be done, before +you come away. + +Now you think yourself the first writer in the world for a letter about +nothing. Can you write such a letter as this? So miscellaneous, with +such noble disdain of regularity, like Shakespeare's works; such +graceful negligence of transition, like the ancient enthusiasts? The +pure voice of nature and of friendship. Now, of whom shall I proceed to +speak? Of whom but Mrs. Montague? Having mentioned Shakespeare and +nature, does not the name of Montague force itself upon me? Such were +the transitions of the ancients, which now seem abrupt, because the +intermediate idea is lost to modern understandings. I wish her name had +connected itself with friendship; but, ah, Colin, thy hopes are in vain! +One thing, however, is left me, I have still to complain; but I hope I +shall not complain much, while you have any kindness for me. I am, +dearest, and dearest madam, your, &c. + +London, April, 11, 1780. + + +XLIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Mr. Thrale never will live abstinently, till he can +persuade himself to abstain by rule. I lived on potatoes on Friday, and +on spinage to-day; but I have had, I am afraid, too many dinners of +late. I took physick too both days, and hope to fast to-morrow. When he +comes home, we will shame him, and Jebb shall scold him into regularity. +I am glad, however, that he is always one of the company, and that my +dear Queeney is again another. Encourage, as you can, the musical girl. + +Nothing is more common than mutual dislike, where mutual approbation is +particularly expected. There is often on both sides a vigilance, not +over-benevolent; and as attention is strongly excited, so that nothing +drops unheeded, any difference in taste or opinion, and some difference, +where there is no restraint, will commonly appear, immediately generates +dislike. + +Never let criticisms operate upon your face, or your mind; it is very +rarely that an author is hurt by his criticks. The blaze of reputation +cannot be blown out, but it often dies in the socket; a very few names +may be considered as perpetual lamps, that shine unconsumed. From the +author of Fitzosborne's Letters, I cannot think myself in much danger. I +met him only once, about thirty years ago, and, in some small dispute, +reduced him to whistle; having not seen him since, that is the last +impression. Poor Moore, the fabulist, was one of the company. + +Mrs. Montague's long stay, against her own inclination, is very +convenient. You would, by your own confession, want a companion; and she +is "par pluribus," conversing with her you may "find variety in one." + +At Mrs. Ord's I met one Mrs. B--, a travelled lady, of great spirit, and +some consciousness of her own abilities. We had a contest of gallantry, +an hour long, so much to the diversion of the company, that at Ramsay's, +last night, in a crowded room, they would have pitted us again. There +were Smelt, and the bishop of St. Asaph, who comes to every place; and +lord Monboddo, and sir Joshua, and ladies out of tale. + +The exhibition, how will you do either to see or not to see! The +exhibition is eminently splendid. There is contour, and keeping, and +grace, and expression, and all the varieties of artificial excellence. +The apartments were truly very noble. The pictures, for the sake of a +skylight, are at the top of the house; there we dined, and I sat over +against the archbishop of York. See how I live, when I am not under +petticoat government. I am, &c. + +London, May 1, 1780. + + +XLIV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, June 9, 1780. + +DEAR MADAM,--To the question, Who was impressed with consternation? it +may, with great truth, be answered, that every body was impressed, for +nobody was sure of his safety. + +On Friday, the good protestants met in St. George's fields, at the +summons of lord George Gordon, and marching to Westminster, insulted the +lords and commons, who all bore it with great tameness. At night, the +outrages began, by the demolition of the mass-house by Lincoln's inn. + +An exact journal of a week's defiance of government, I cannot give you. +On Monday, Mr. Strahan, who had been insulted, spoke to lord Mansfield, +who had, I think been insulted too, of the licentiousness of the +populace; and his lordship treated it, as a very slight irregularity. On +Tuesday night, they pulled down Fielding's house and burnt his goods in +the street. They had gutted, on Monday sir George Saville's house, but +the building was saved. On Tuesday evening, leaving Fielding's ruins, +they went to Newgate, to demand their companions, who had been seized, +demolishing the chapel. The keeper could not release them, but by the +mayor's permission, which he went to ask; at his return, he found all +the prisoners released, and Newgate in a blaze. They then went to +Bloomsbury, and fastened upon lord Mansfield's house which they pulled +down; and as for his goods, they totally burnt them. They have since +gone to Caen wood, but a guard was there before them. They plundered +some papists, I think, and burnt a mass-house in Moorfields the same +night. + +On Wednesday, I walked with Dr. Scott, to look at Newgate, and found it +in ruins, with the fire yet glowing As I went by, the protestants were +plundering the Sessions house at the Old Bailey. There were not, I +believe, a hundred; but they did their work at leisure, in full +security, without sentinels, without trepidation, as men lawfully +employed in full day. Such is the cowardice of a commercial place. On +Wednesday they broke open the Fleet, and the King's Bench, and the +Marshalsea, and Wood street Counter, and Clerkenwell Bridewell, and +released all the prisoners. + +At night, they set fire to the Fleet, and to the King's Bench, and I +know not how many other places; and one might see the glare of +conflagration fill the sky from many parts. The sight was dreadful. Some +people were threatened; Mr. Strahan advised me to take care of myself. +Such a time of terrour you have been happy in not seeing. + +The king said, in council, that the magistrates had not done their duty, +but that he would do his own; and a proclamation was published, +directing us to keep our servants within doors, as the peace was now to +be preserved by force. The soldiers were sent out to different parts, +and the town is now at quiet. + +What has happened at your house, you will know; the harm is only a few +butts of beer; and I think you may be sure that the danger is over. +There is a body of soldiers at St. Margaret's hill. + +Of Mr. Tyson I know nothing, nor can guess to what he can allude; but I +know that a young fellow of little more than seventy is naturally an +unresisted conqueror of hearts. + +Pray tell Mr. Thrale that I live here and have no fruit, and if he does +not interpose, am not likely to have much; but, I think, he might as +well give me a little, as give all to the gardener. + +Pray make my compliments to Queeney and Burney. I am, &c. + + +XLV.--To MRS. THRALE. + +June 10, 1780. + +DEAR MADAM,--You have, ere now, heard and read enough to convince you, +that we have had something to suffer, and something to fear, and, +therefore, I think it necessary to quiet the solicitude which you +undoubtedly feel, by telling you that our calamities and terrours are +now at an end. The soldiers are stationed so as to be every where within +call; there is no longer any body of rioters, and the individuals are +hunted to their holes, and led to prison; the streets are safe and +quiet: lord George was last night sent to the Tower. Mr. John Wilkes +was, this day, with a party of soldiers, in my neighbourhood, to seize +the publisher of a seditious paper. Every body walks, and eats, and +sleeps in security. But the history of the last week would fill you with +amazement: it is without any modern example. + +Several chapels have been destroyed, and several inoffensive papists +have been plundered, but the high sport was to burn the gaols. This was +a good rabble trick. The debtors and the criminals were all set at +liberty; but, of the criminals, as has always happened, many are already +retaken, and two pirates have surrendered themselves, and it is expected +that they will be pardoned. + +Government now acts again with its proper force; and we are all again +under the protection of the king and the law. I thought that it would be +agreeable to you and my master, to have my testimony to the publick +security; and that you would sleep more quietly, when I told you, that +you are safe. I am, dearest lady, your, &c. + + +XLVI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, April 5, 1781. + +DEAREST MADAM,--Of your injunctions, to pray for you, and write to you, +I hope to leave neither unobserved; and I hope to find you willing, in a +short time, to alleviate your trouble by some other exercise of the +mind. I am not without my part of the calamity. No death, since that of +my wife, has ever oppressed me like this. But let us remember, that we +are in the hands of him who knows when to give and when to take away; +who will look upon us, with mercy, through all our variations of +existence, and who invites us to call on him in the day of trouble. Call +upon him in this great revolution of life, and call with confidence. You +will then find comfort for the past, and support for the future. He that +has given you happiness in marriage, to a degree of which, without +personal knowledge, I should have thought the description fabulous, can +give you another mode of happiness as a mother, and, at last, the +happiness of losing all temporal cares, in the thoughts of an eternity +in heaven. + +I do not exhort you to reason yourself into tranquillity. We must first +pray, and then labour; first implore the blessing of God, and use those +means which he puts into our hands. Cultivated ground has few weeds; a +mind, occupied by lawful business, has little room for useless regret. + +We read the will to-day; but I will not fill my first letter with any +other account, than that, with all my zeal for your advantage, I am +satisfied; and, that the other executors, more used to consider property +than I, commended it for wisdom and equity. Yet, why should I not tell +you, that you have five hundred pounds for your immediate expenses, and +two thousand pounds a year, with both the houses, and all the goods. + +Let us pray for one another, that the time, whether long or short, that +shall yet be granted us, may be well spent; and, that, when this life, +which, at the longest, is very short, shall come to an end, a better may +begin, which shall never end. I am, dearest madam, your, &c. + + +XLVII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +April 7, 1781. + +DEAR MADAM,--I hope you begin to find your mind grow clearer. My part of +the loss hangs upon me. I have lost a friend of boundless kindness, at +an age when it is very unlikely that I should find another. + +If you think change of place likely to relieve you, there is no reason +why you should not go to Bath; the distances are unequal, but with +regard to practice and business they are the same. It is a day's journey +from either place; and the post is more expeditious and certain to Bath. +Consult only your own inclination, for there is really no other +principle of choice. God direct and bless you. + +Mr. C--has offered Mr. P--money, but it was not wanted. I hope we shall +all do all we can to make you less unhappy, and you must do all you can +for yourself. What we, or what you can do, will, for a time, be but +little; yet, certainly, that calamity which may be considered as doomed +to fall inevitably on half mankind, is not finally without alleviation. + +It is something for me, that, as I have not the decrepitude, I have not +the callousness of old age. I hope, in time, to be less affected. I am, +&c. + + +XLVIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, April 9, 1781. + +DEAR MADAM,--That you are gradually recovering your tranquillity is the +effect to be humbly expected from trust in God. Do not represent life as +darker than it is. Your loss has been very great, but you retain more +than almost any other can hope to possess. You are high in the opinion +of mankind; you have children, from whom much pleasure may be expected; +and that you will find many friends you have no reason to doubt. Of my +friendship, be it worth more or less, I hope you think yourself certain, +without much art or care. It will not be easy for me to repay the +benefits that I have received; but I hope to be always ready at your +call. Our sorrow has different effects; you are withdrawn into solitude, +and I am driven into company. I am afraid of thinking what I have lost. +I never had such a friend before. Let me have your prayers and those of +my dear Queeney. + +The prudence and resolution of your design to return so soon to your +business and your duty, deserves great praise; I shall communicate it, +on Wednesday, to the other executors. Be pleased to let me know, whether +you would have me come to Streatham to receive you, or stay here till +the next day. I am, &c. + + +XLIX.--To THE SAME. + +Bolt court, Fleet street, June 19, 1783. + +DEAR MADAM,--I am sitting down, in no cheerful solitude, to write a +narrative, which would once have affected you with tenderness and +sorrow, but which you will, perhaps, pass over now with a careless +glance of frigid indifference. For this diminution of regard, however, I +know not whether I ought to blame you, who may have reasons which I +cannot know; and I do not blame myself, who have, for a great part of +human life, done you what good I could, and have never done you evil. + +I have been disordered in the usual way, and had been relieved, by the +usual methods, by opium and catharticks, but had rather lessened my dose +of opium. + +On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture, and walked a considerable +way, with little inconvenience. In the afternoon and evening, I felt +myself light and easy, and began to plan schemes of life. Thus I went to +bed, and, in a short time, waked and sat up, as has been long my custom, +when I felt a confusion and indistinctness in my head, which lasted, I +suppose, about half a minute; I was alarmed, and prayed God, that, +however he might afflict my body, he would spare my understanding. This +prayer, that I might try the integrity of my faculties, I made in Latin +verse. The lines were not very good, but I knew them not to be very +good: I made them easily, and concluded myself to be unimpaired in my +faculties. + +Soon after, I perceived that I had suffered a paralytick stroke, and +that my speech was taken from me. I had no pain, and so little +dejection, in this dreadful state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and +considered that, perhaps, death itself, when it should come, would +excite less horrour than seems now to attend it. + +In order to rouse the vocal organs, I took two drams. Wine has been +celebrated for the production of eloquence. I put myself into violent +motion, and, I think, repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed, +and, strange as it may seem, I think, slept. When I saw light, it was +time to contrive what I should do. Though God stopped my speech, he left +me my hand: I enjoyed a mercy, which was not granted to my dear friend +Lawrence, who now, perhaps, overlooks me, as I am writing, and rejoices +that I have what he wanted. My first note was, necessarily, to my +servant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend, why +he should read what I put into his hands. + +I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have a discreet friend at +hand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note, I had +some difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. I +then wrote to Dr. Taylor, to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden, and I +sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are very +friendly and very disinterested, and give me great hopes, but you may +imagine my situation. I have so far recovered my vocal powers, as to +repeat the Lord's prayer, with no very imperfect articulation. My +memory, I hope, yet remains as it was; but such an attack produces +solicitude for the safety of every faculty. + +How this will be received by you, I know not. I hope you will sympathize +with me; but, perhaps, + + "My mistress, gracious, mild, and good, + Cries: Is he dumb? 'Tis time he shou'd." + +But can this be possible? I hope it cannot. I hope that what, when I +could speak, I spoke of you, and to you, will be, in a sober and serious +hour, remembered by you; and, surely, it cannot be remembered but with +some degree of kindness. I have loved you with virtuous affection; I +have honoured you with sincere esteem. Let not all our endearments be +forgotten, but let me have, in this great distress, your pity and your +prayers. You see, I yet turn to you with my complaints, as a settled and +unalienable friend; do not, do not drive me from you, for I have not +deserved either neglect or hatred. + +To the girls, who do not write often, for Susy has written only once, +and Miss Thrale owes me a letter, I earnestly recommend, as their +guardian and friend, that they remember their creator in the days of +their youth. + +I suppose, you may wish to know, how my disease is treated by the +physicians. They put a blister upon my back, and two from my ear to my +throat, one on a side. The blister on the back has done little, and +those on the throat have not risen. I bullied and bounced, (it sticks to +our last sand,) and compelled the apothecary to make his salve according +to the Edinburgh dispensatory, that it might adhere better. I have two +on now of my own prescription. They, likewise, give me salt of +hartshorn, which I take with no great confidence, but I am satisfied +that what can be done, is done for me. + +O God! give me comfort and confidence in thee; forgive my sins; and, if +it be thy good pleasure, relieve my diseases, for Jesus Christ's sake. +Amen. + +I am almost ashamed of this querulous letter; but now it is written, let +it go. I am, &c. + + +L.--To MRS. THRALE. + +DEAR MADAM,--Among those that have inquired after me, sir Philip is one; +and Dr. Burney was one of those who came to see me. I have had no reason +to complain of indifference or neglect. Dick Burney is come home five +inches taller. + +Yesterday, in the evening, I went to church, and have been to-day to see +the great burning-glass, which does more than was ever done before, by +the transmission of the rays, but is not equal in power to those which +reflect them. It wastes a diamond placed in the focus, but causes no +diminution of pure gold. Of the rubies, exposed to its action, one was +made more vivid, the other paler. To see the glass, I climbed up stairs +to the garret, and then up a ladder to the leads, and talked to the +artist rather too long; for my voice, though clear and distinct for a +little while, soon tires and falters. The organs of speech are yet very +feeble, but will, I hope, be, by the mercy of God, finally restored: at +present, like any other weak limb, they can endure but little labour at +once. Would you not have been very sorry for me, when I could scarcely +speak? + +Fresh cantharides were this morning applied to my head, and are to be +continued some time longer. If they play me no treacherous tricks, they +give me very little pain. + +Let me have your kindness and your prayers; and think on me, as on a +man, who, for a very great portion of your life has done you all the +good he could, and desires still to be considered, madam, your, &c. + + +LI.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, July 1, 1783. + +DEAREST MADAM,--This morning I took the air by a ride to Hampstead, and +this afternoon I dined with the club. But fresh cantharides were this +day applied to my head. + +Mr. Cator called on me to-day, and told me, that he had invited you back +to Streatham. I showed the unfitness of your return thither, till the +neighbourhood should have lost its habits of depredation, and he seemed +to be satisfied. He invited me, very kindly and cordially, to try the +air of Beckenham; and pleased me very much by his affectionate attention +to Miss Vesy. There is much good in his character, and much usefulness +in his knowledge. + +Queeney seems now to have forgotten me. Of the different appearance of +the hills and valleys an account may, perhaps, be given, without the +supposition of any prodigy! If she had been out, and the evening was +breezy, the exhalations would rise from the low grounds very copiously; +and the wind that swept and cleared the hills, would only, by its cold, +condense the vapours of the sheltered valleys. + +Murphy is just gone from me; he visits me very kindly, and I have no +unkindness to complain of. + +I am sorry that sir Philip's request was not treated with more respect, +nor can I imagine what has put them so much out of humour; I hope their +business is prosperous. + +I hope that I recover by degrees, but my nights are restless; and you +will suppose the nervous system to be somewhat enfeebled. I am, madam, +your, &c. + + +LII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, October 9, 1783. + +Two nights ago, Mr. Burke sat with me a long time; he seems much pleased +with his journey. We had both seen Stonehenge this summer, for the first +time. I told him that the view had enabled me to confute two opinions +which have been advanced about it. One, that the materials are not +natural stones, but an artificial composition, hardened by time. This +notion is as old as Camden's time; and has this strong argument to +support it, that stone of that species is nowhere to be found. The other +opinion, advanced by Dr. Charlton, is, that it was erected by the Danes. + +Mr. Bowles made me observe, that the transverse stones were fixed on the +perpendicular supporters by a knob, formed on the top of the upright +stone, which entered into a hollow, cut in the crossing stone. This is a +proof, that the enormous edifice was raised by a people who had not yet +the knowledge of mortar; which cannot be supposed of the Danes, who came +hither in ships, and were not ignorant, certainly, of the arts of life. +This proves, likewise, the stones not to be factitious; for they that +could mould such durable masses, could do much more than make mortar, +and could have continued the transverse from the upright part with the +same paste. + +You have, doubtless, seen Stonehenge; and if you have not, I should +think it a hard task to make an adequate description. + +It is, in my opinion, to be referred to the earliest habitation of the +island, as a druidical monument of, at least, two thousand years; +probably the most ancient work of man, upon the island. Salisbury +cathedral, and its neighbour Stonehenge, are two eminent monuments of +art and rudeness, and may show the first essay, and the last perfection +in architecture. + +I have not yet settled my thoughts about the generation of light air, +which I, indeed, once saw produced, but I was at the height of my great +complaint. I have made inquiry, and shall soon be able to tell you how +to fill a balloon. I am, madam, your, &c. + + +LIII.--To MRS. THRALE. + +London, Dec. 27, 1783. + +DEAR MADAM,--The wearisome solitude of the long evenings did, indeed, +suggest to me the convenience of a club in my neighbourhood, but I have +been hindered from attending it by want of breath. If I can complete the +scheme, you shall have the names and the regulations. + +The time of the year, for I hope the fault is rather in the weather than +in me, has been very hard upon me. The muscles of my breast are much +convulsed. Dr. Heberden recommends opiates, of which I have such +horrour, that I do not think of them but _in extremis_. I was, however, +driven to them, last night, for refuge, and, having taken the usual +quantity, durst not go to bed, for fear of that uneasiness to which a +supine posture exposes me, but rested all night in a chair, with much +relief, and have been, to-day, more warm, active, and cheerful. + +You have more than once wondered at my complaint of solitude, when you +hear that I am crowded with visits. "Inopem me copia fecit." Visitors +are no proper companions in the chamber of sickness. They come, when I +could sleep or read, they stay till I am weary, they force me to attend, +when my mind calls for relaxation, and to speak, when my powers will +hardly actuate my tongue. The amusements and consolations of languor and +depression are conferred by familiar and domestick companions, which can +be visited or called at will, and can, occasionally, be quitted or +dismissed, who do not obstruct accommodation by ceremony, or destroy +indolence by awakening effort. + +Such society I had with Levet and Williams; such I had where--I am never +likely to have it more. + +I wish, dear lady, to you and my dear girls, many a cheerful and pious +Christmas. I am, your, &c. + + +LIV.--To MRS. Piozzi. + +London, July 8, 1784. + +DEAR MADAM,--What you have done, however I may lament it, I have no +pretence to resent, as it has not been injurious to me; I, therefore, +breathe out one sigh more of tenderness, perhaps useless, but at least +sincere. + +I wish that God may grant you every blessing, that you may be happy in +this world, for its short continuance, and eternally happy in a better +state; and whatever I can contribute to your happiness, I am very ready +to repay, for that kindness which soothed twenty years of a life +radically wretched. + +Do not think slightly of the advice which I now presume to offer. +Prevail upon Mr. Piozzi to settle in England; you may live here with +more dignity than in Italy, and with more security; your rank will be +higher, and your fortune more under your own eye. I desire not to detail +all my reasons; but every argument of prudence and interest is for +England, and only some phantoms of imagination seduce you to Italy. + +I am afraid, however, that my counsel is vain, yet I have eased my heart +by giving it. + +When queen Mary took the resolution of sheltering herself in England, +the archbishop of St. Andrew's, attempting to dissuade her, attended on +her journey; and when they came to the irremeable stream, that separated +the two kingdoms, walked by her side into the water, in the middle of +which he seized her bridle, and with earnestness, proportioned to her +danger and his own affection, pressed her to return. The queen went +forward.--If the parallel reaches thus far, may it go no farther.--The +tears stand in my eyes. + +I am going into Derbyshire, and hope to be followed by your good wishes, +for I am, with great affection, your, &c. + +END OF VOL. I. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and +Tales, Volume 1, by Samuel Johnson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHNSON'S WORKS, V1 *** + +***** This file should be named 10835.txt or 10835.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/8/3/10835/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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