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diff --git a/old/12059-8.txt b/old/12059-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e260d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12059-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11899 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The World's Greatest Books, Vol IX. +by Edited by Arthur Mee and J.A. Hammerton + +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: The World's Greatest Books, Vol IX. + +Author: Edited by Arthur Mee and J.A. Hammerton + +Release Date: April 16, 2004 [EBook #12059] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS, IX. *** + + + + +Produced by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS + +JOINT EDITORS + +ARTHUR MEE Editor and Founder of the Book of Knowledge + +J.A. HAMMERTON Editor of Harmsworth's Universal Encyclopaedia + +VOL. IX LIVES AND LETTERS + +MCMX + + * * * * * + +Table of Contents + +ABÉLARD AND HÉLOÏSE + Love-Letters + +AMIEL, H.F. + Fragments of an Intimate Diary + +AUGUSTINE, SAINT + Confessions + +BOSWELL, JAMES + Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. + +BREWSTER, SIR DAVID + Life of Sir Isaac Newton + +BUNYAN, JOHN + Grace Abounding + +CARLYLE, ALEXANDER + Autobiography + +CARLYLE, THOMAS + Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell + Life of Schiller + +CELLINI, BENVENUTO + Autobiography + +CHATEAUBRIAND, FRANÇOIS RENÉ DE + Memoirs from Beyond the Grave + +CHESTERFIELD, EARL OF + Letters to His Son + +CICERO, MARCUS TULLIUS + Letters + +COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR + Biographia Literaria + +COWPER, WILLIAM + Letters + +DE QUINCEY, THOMAS + Confessions of an English Opium-Eater + +DUMAS, ALEXANDRE + Memoirs + +EVELYN, JOHN + Diary + +FORSTER, JOHN + Life of Goldsmith + +FOX, GEORGE + Journal + +FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN + Autobiography + +GASKELL, MRS. + The Life of Charlotte Brontë + +GIBBON, EDWARD + Memoirs + +GOETHE, J.W. VON + Letters to Zelter + Poetry and Truth + Conversations with Eckermann + +GRAY, THOMAS + Letters + +HAMILTON, ANTONY + Memoirs of the Count De Grammont + +HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL + Our Old Home + +A Complete Index of THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS will be found at the end +of Volume XX. + + * * * * * + + + + +ABÉLARD AND HÉLOÏSE + + +Love-Letters + + + In the Paris cemetery of Père-Lachaise, on summer Sundays, + flowers and wreaths are still laid on the tomb of a woman who + died nearly 750 years ago. It is the grave of Heloise and of + her lover Abelard, the hero and heroine of one of the world's + greatest love stories. Born in 1079, Abelard, after a + scholastic activity of twenty-five years, reached the highest + academic dignity in Christendom--the Chair of the Episcopal + School in Paris. When he was 38 he first saw Heloise, then a + beautiful girl of 17, living with her uncle, Canon Fulbert. + Abelard became her tutor, and fell madly in love with her. The + passion was as madly returned. The pair fled to Brittany, + where a child was born. There was a secret marriage, but + because she imagined it would hinder Abelard's advancement, + Heloise denied the marriage. Fulbert was furious. With hired + assistance, he invaded Abelard's rooms and brutally mutilated + him. Abelard, distressed by this degradation, turned monk. But + he must have Heloise turn nun; she agreed, and at 22 took the + veil. Ten years later she learned that Abelard had not found + content in his retirement, and wrote to him the first of the + five famous letters. Abelard died in 1142, and his remains + were given into the keeping of Heloise. Twenty years + afterwards she died, and was buried beside him at Paraclete. + In 1800 their remains were taken to Paris, and in 1817 + interred in Père-Lachaise Cemetery. The love-letters, + originally written in Latin, about 1128, were first published + in Paris in 1616. + + +_I.--Héloïse to Abélard_ + + +Heloise has just seen a "consolatory" letter of Abelard's to a friend. +She had no right to open it, but in justification of the liberty she +took, she flatters herself that she may claim a privilege over +everything which comes from that hand. + +"But how dear did my curiosity cost me! What disturbance did it +occasion, and how surprised I was to find the whole letter filled with a +particular and melancholy account of our misfortunes! Though length of +time ought to have closed up my wounds, yet the seeing them described by +you was sufficient to make them all open and bleed afresh. Surely all +the misfortunes of lovers are conveyed to them through the eyes. Upon +reading your letter I feel all mine renewed. Observe, I beseech you, to +what a wretched condition you have reduced me; sad, afflicted, without +any possible comfort unless it proceed from you. Be not then unkind, nor +deny me, I beg of you, that little relief which you only can give. Let +me have a faithful account of all that concerns you; I would know +everything, be it ever so unfortunate. Perhaps by mingling my sighs with +yours I may make your sufferings less, for it has been said that all +sorrows divided are made lighter. + +"I shall always have this, if you please, and it will always be +agreeable to me that, when I receive a letter from you, I shall know you +still remember me. I have your picture in my room. I never pass it +without stopping to look at it. If a picture, which is but a mute +representation of an object, can give such pleasure, what cannot letters +inspire? We may write to each other; so innocent a pleasure is not +denied us. I shall read that you are my husband, and you shall see me +sign myself your wife. In spite of all our misfortunes, you may be what +you please in your letter. Having lost the substantial pleasures of +seeing and possessing you, I shall in some measure compensate this loss +by the satisfaction I shall find in your writing. There I shall read +your most sacred thoughts; I shall carry them always about with me; I +shall kiss them every moment. I cannot live if you will not tell me that +you still love me. + +"When you write to me you will write to your wife; marriage has made +such a correspondence lawful and since you can without the least scandal +satisfy me why will you not? I am not only engaged by my vows, but I +have the fear of my uncle before me. There is nothing, then, that you +need dread. You have been the occasion of all my misfortunes, you +therefore must be the instrument of my comfort. You cannot but remember +(for lovers cannot forget) with what pleasure I have passed whole days +in hearing your discourse; how, when you were absent, I shut myself from +everyone to write to you; how uneasy I was till my letter had come to +your hands; what artful management it required to engage messengers. +This detail perhaps surprises you, and you are in pain for what may +follow. But I am no longer ashamed that my passion for you had no +bounds, for I have done more than all this. + +"I have hated myself that I might love you; I came hither to ruin myself +in a perpetual imprisonment that I might make you live quietly and at +ease. Nothing but virtue, joined to a love perfectly disengaged from the +senses, could have produced such effects. Vice never inspires anything +like this; it is too much enslaved to the body. This was my cruel +uncle's notion; he measured my virtue by the frailty of my sex, and +thought it was the man and not the person I loved. But he has been +guilty to no purpose. I love you more than ever, and so revenge myself +on him. I will still love you with all the tenderness of my soul till +the last moment of my life." + +Formerly, she tells him, the man was the least she valued in him. It was +his heart she desired to possess. "You cannot but be entirely persuaded +of this by the extreme unwillingness I showed to marry you, though I +knew that the name of wife was honourable in the world and holy in +religion; yet the name of your mistress had greater charms because it +was more free. The bonds of matrimony, however honourable, still bear +with them a necessary engagement, and I was very unwilling to be +necessitated to love always a man who would perhaps not always love me. +I despised the name of wife that I might live happy with that of +mistress." + +And then, ecstatically recalling the old happy times, she deplores that +she has nothing left but the painful memory that they are past. Beyond +that, she has no regret except that against her will she must now be +innocent. "My misfortune was to have cruel relatives whose malice +destroyed the calm we enjoyed; had they been reasonable, I had now been +happy in the enjoyment of my dear husband. Oh, how cruel were they when +their blind fury urged a villain to surprise you in your sleep! Where +was I--where was your Heloise then? What joy should I have had in +defending my lover! I would have guarded you from violence at the +expense of my life. Oh, whither does this excess of passion hurry me? +Here love is shocked, and modesty deprives me of words." + +She goes on to reproach him with his neglect and silence these ten +years. When she pronounced her "sad vow," he had protested that his +whole being was hers; that he would never live but to love Heloise. But +he has proved the "unfaithful one." Though she is immured in the +convent, it was only harsh relatives and "the unhappy consequences of +our love and your disgrace" that made her put on the habit of chastity. +She is not penitent for the past. At one moment she is swayed by the +sentiment of piety, and next moment she yields up her imagination to all +that is amorous and tender. "Among those who are wedded to God I am +wedded to a man; among the heroic supporters of the Cross I am the slave +of a human desire; at the head of a religious community I am devoted to +Abelard alone. Even here I love you as much as ever I did in the world. +If I had loved pleasures could I not have found means to gratify myself? +I was not more than twenty-two years old, and there were other men left +though I was deprived of Abelard. And yet I buried myself in a nunnery, +and triumphed over life at an age capable of enjoying it to its full +latitude. It is to you I sacrifice these remains of a transitory beauty, +these widowed nights and tedious days." + +And then she closes passionately: "Oh, think of me--do not forget +me--remember my love, and fidelity, and constancy: love me as your +mistress, cherish me as your child, your sister, your wife! Remember I +still love you, and yet strive to avoid loving you. What a terrible +saying is this! I shake with horror, and my very heart revolts against +what I say. I shall blot all my paper with tears. I end my long letter +wishing you, if you desire it (would to Heaven I could!), for ever +adieu!" + + +_II. Abélard to Héloïse_ + + +Abelard's answer to this letter is almost as passionate. He tells how he +has vainly sought in philosophy and religion a remedy for his disgrace; +how with equal futility he has tried to secure himself from love by the +rigours of the monastic life. He has gained nothing by it all. "If my +passion has been put under a restraint, my thoughts yet run free. I +promise myself that I will forget you, and yet cannot think of it +without loving you. After a multitude of useless endeavours I begin to +persuade myself that it is a superfluous trouble to strive to free +myself; and that it is sufficient wisdom to conceal from all but you how +confused and weak I am. I remove to a distance from your person with an +intention of avoiding you as an enemy; and yet I incessantly seek for +you in my mind; I recall your image in my memory, and in different +disquietudes I betray and contradict myself. I hate you! I love you! You +call me your master; it is true you were entrusted to my care. I saw +you, I was earnest to teach you; it cost you your innocence and me my +liberty. If now, having lost the power of satisfying my passion, I had +also lost that of loving you, I should have some consolation. But I find +myself much more guilty in my thoughts of you, even amidst my tears, +than in possessing you when I was in full liberty. I continually think +of you; I continually call to mind your tenderness." + +He explains some of the means he has tried to make himself forget. He +has tried several fasts, and redoubled studies, and exhausted his +strength in constant exercises, but all to no purpose. "Oh, do not," he +exclaims, "add to my miseries by your constancy. Forget, if you can, +your favours and that right which they claim over me; allow me to be +indifferent. Why use your eloquence to reproach me for my flight and for +my silence? Spare the recital of our assignations and your constant +exactness to them; without calling up such disturbing thoughts I have +enough to suffer. What great advantages would philosophy give us over +other men if, by studying it, we could learn to govern our passions? +What a troublesome employment is love!" + +Then he tries to excuse himself for his original betrayal. "Those +charms, that beauty, that air, which I yet behold at this instant, +occasioned my fall. Your looks were the beginning of my guilt; your +eyes, your discourse, pierced my heart; and, in spite of that ambition +and glory which tried to make a defence, love was soon the master." Even +now "my love burns fiercer amidst the happy indifference of those who +surround me. The Gospel is a language I do not understand when it +opposes my passion. Void of all relish for virtue, without concern for +my condition and without application to my studies, I am continually +present by my imagination where I ought not to be, and I find I have no +power to correct myself." He advises her to give up her mind to her holy +vocation as a means of forgetting him. "Make yourself amends by so +glorious a choice; make your virtue a spectacle worthy of men and +angels. Drink of the chalice of saints, even to the bottom, without +turning your eyes with uncertainty upon me. To forget Heloise, to see +her no more, is what Heaven demands of Abelard; and to expect nothing +from Abelard, to forget him even as an idea, is what Heaven enjoins on +Heloise." + +He acknowledges that he made her take the veil for his own selfish +reasons, but is now bound to admit that "God rejected my offering and my +prayer, and continued my punishment by suffering me to continue my love. +Thus I bear alike the guilt of your vows and of the passion that +preceded them, and must be tormented all the days of my life." Once more +he adjures her to deliver herself from the "shameful remains" of a +passion which has taken too deep root. "To love Heloise truly," he +closes, "is to leave her to that quiet which retirement and virtue +afford. I have resolved it: this letter shall be my last fault. Adieu! I +hope you will be willing, when you have finished this mortal life, to be +buried near me. Your cold ashes need then fear nothing, and my tomb +shall be more rich and renowned." + + +_III.--Héloïse to Abélard_ + + +The passion of Heloise is only inflamed by this letter from Abelard. She +has got him to write, and now she wants to see him and to hear more +about him. She cynically remarks that he has made greater advances in +the way of devotion than she could wish. There, alas! she is too weak to +follow him. But she must have his advice and spiritual comfort. "Can you +have the cruelty to abandon me? The fear of this stabs my heart." She +reproaches him for the "fearful presages" of death he had made in his +letter. And as regards his wish that she should take care of his +remains, she says: "Heaven, severe as it has been to me, is not so +insensible as to permit me to live one moment after you. Life without +Abelard were an insupportable punishment, and death a most exquisite +happiness if by that means I could be united to him. If Heaven but +hearken to my continual cry, your days will be prolonged and you will +bury me." It is his part, she says, to prepare _her_ for the great +crisis, to receive her last sighs. What could she hope for if _he_ were +taken away? "I have renounced without difficulty all the charms of life, +preserving only my love, and the secret pleasure of thinking incessantly +of you and hearing that you live. Dear Abelard, pity my despair! The +higher you raised me above other women, who envied me your love, the +more sensible am I now of the loss of your heart. I was exalted to the +top of happiness only that I might have the more terrible fall. Nothing +could be compared to my pleasures, and now nothing can equal my misery." + +She blames herself entirely for Abelard's present position. "I, wretched +I, have ruined you, and have been the cause of all your misfortunes. How +dangerous it is for a great man to suffer himself to be moved by our +sex! He ought from his infancy to be inured to insensibility of heart +against all our charms. I have long examined things, and have found that +death is less dangerous than beauty. It is the shipwreck of liberty, a +fatal snare, from which it is impossible ever to get free." + +She protests that she cannot forget. "Even into holy places before the +altar I carry the memory of our love; and, far from lamenting for having +been seduced by pleasures, I sigh for having lost them." She counts +herself more to be pitied than Abelard, because grace and misfortune +have helped him, whereas she has still her relentless passions to fight. +"Our sex is nothing but weakness, and I have the greater difficulty in +defending myself, because the enemy that attacks me pleases me. I doat +on the danger which threatens. How, then, can I avoid yielding? I seek +not to conquer for fear I should be overcome; happiness enough for me to +escape shipwreck and at last reach port. Heaven commands me to renounce +my fatal passion for you; but, oh! my heart will never be able to +consent to it. Adieu." + + +_IV.--Héloïse to Abelard_ + + +Abelard has not replied to this letter, and Heloise begins by +sarcastically thanking him for his neglect. She pretends to have subdued +her passion, and, addressing him rather as priest than lover, demands +his spiritual counsel. Thus caustically does she proclaim her +inconstancy. "At last, Abelard, you have lost Heloise for ever. +Notwithstanding all the oaths I made to think of nothing but you, and to +be entertained by nothing but you, I have banished you from my thoughts; +I have forgot you. Thou charming idea of a lover I once adored, thou +wilt be no more my happiness! Dear image of Abelard! thou wilt no longer +follow me, no longer shall I remember thee. Oh, enchanting pleasures to +which Heloise resigned herself--you, you have been my tormentors! I +confess my inconstancy, Abelard, without a blush; let my infidelity +teach the world that there is no depending on the promises of women--we +are all subject to change. When I tell you what Rival hath ravished my +heart from you, you will praise my inconstancy, and pray this Rival to +fix it. By this you will know that 'tis God alone that takes Heloise +from you." + +She explains how she arrived at this decision by being brought to the +gates of death by a dangerous illness. Her passion now seemed criminal. +She has therefore torn off the bandages which blinded her, and "you are +to me no longer the loving Abelard who constantly sought private +conversations with me by deceiving the vigilance of our observers." She +enlarges on her resolution. She will "no more endeavour, by the relation +of those pleasures our passion gave us, to awaken any guilty fondness +you may yet feel for me. I demand nothing of you but spiritual advice +and wholesome discipline. You cannot now be silent without a crime. When +I was possessed with so violent a love, and pressed you so earnestly to +write to me, how many letters did I send you before I could obtain one +from you?" + +But, alas! her woman's weakness conquers again. For the moment she +forgets her resolution, and exclaims: "My dear husband (for the last +time I use that title!), shall I never see you again? Shall I never have +the pleasure of embracing you before death? What dost thou say, wretched +Heloise? Dost thou know what thou desirest? Couldst thou behold those +brilliant eyes without recalling the tender glances which have been so +fatal to thee? Couldst thou see that majestic air of Abelard without +being jealous of everyone who beholds so attractive a man? That mouth +cannot be looked upon without desire; in short, no woman can view the +person of Abelard without danger. Ask no more to see Abelard; if the +memory of him has caused thee so much trouble, Heloise, what would not +his presence do? What desires will it not excite in thy soul? How will +it be possible to keep thy reason at the sight of so lovable a man?" + +She reverts to her delightful dreams about Abelard, when "you press me +to you and I yield to you, and our souls, animated with the same +passion, are sensible of the same pleasures." Then she recalls her +resolution, and closes with these words: "I begin to perceive that I +take too much pleasure in writing to you; I ought to burn this letter. +It shows that I still feel a deep passion for you, though at the +beginning I tried to persuade you to the contrary. I am sensible of +waves both of grace and passion, and by turns yield to each. Have pity, +Abelard, on the condition to which you have brought me, and make in some +measure my last days as peaceful as my first have been uneasy and +disturbed." + + +_V.--Abélard to Héloïse_ + + +Abelard remains firm. "Write no more to me, Heloise, write no more to +me; 'tis time to end communications which make our penances of no +avail," he says. "Let us no more deceive ourselves with remembrance of +our past pleasures; we but make our lives troubled and spoil the sweets +of solitude. Let us make good use of our austerities, and no longer +preserve the memories of our crimes amongst the severities of penance. +Let a mortification of body and mind, a strict fasting, continual +solitude, profound and holy meditations, and a sincere love of God +succeed our former irregularities." + +Both, he deplores, are still very far from this enviable state. "Your +heart still burns with that fatal fire you cannot extinguish, and mine +is full of trouble and unrest. Think not, Heloise, that I here enjoy a +perfect peace; I will for the last time open my heart to you; I am not +yet disengaged from you, and though I fight against my excessive +tenderness for you, in spite of all my endeavours I remain but too +sensible of your sorrows, and long to share in them. The world, which is +generally wrong in its notions, thinks I am at peace, and imagining that +I loved you only for the gratification of the senses, have now forgot +you. What a mistake is this!" + +He exhorts her to strive, to be more firm in her resolutions, to "break +those shameful chains which bind you to the flesh." He pictures the +death of a saint and he works upon her fears by impressing upon her the +terrors of hell. His last recorded words to her are these: + +"I question not, Heloise, but you will hereafter apply yourself in good +earnest to the business of your salvation; this ought to be your whole +concern. Banish me, therefore, for ever from your heart--it is the best +advice I can give you, for the remembrance of a person we have loved +guiltily cannot but be hurtful, whatever advances we may have made in +the way of virtue. When you have extirpated your unhappy inclination +towards me, the practice of every virtue will become easy; and when at +last your life is conformable to that of Christ, death will be desirable +to you. Your soul will joyfully leave this body, and direct its flight +to heaven. Then you will appear with confidence before your Saviour; you +will not read your reprobation in the Judgement Book, but you will hear +your Saviour say: 'Come, partake of My glory, and enjoy the eternal +reward I have appointed for those virtues you have practised.' + +"Farewell, Heloise, this is the last advice of your dear Abelard; for +the last time let me persuade you to follow the rules of the Gospel. +Heaven grant that your heart, once so sensible of my love, may now yield +to be directed by my zeal. May the idea of your loving Abelard, always +present to your mind, be now changed into the image of Abelard truly and +sincerely penitent; and may you shed as many tears for your salvation as +you have done for our misfortunes." + +Then the silence falls for ever. + + * * * * * + + + + +HENRI FRÉDÉRIC AMIEL + + +Fragments of an Intimate Diary + + + Henri Frédéric Amiel, born at Geneva on September 21, 1821, + was educated there, and later at the University of Berlin; and + held a professorship at the University of Geneva from 1849 + until his death, on March 11, 1881. The "Journal Intime," of + which we give a summary, was published in 1882-84, and an + English translation by Mrs. Humphrey Ward appeared in 1885. + The book has the profound interest which attaches to all + genuine personal confessions of the interior life; but it has + the further claim to notice that it is the signal expression + of the spirit of its time, though we can no longer call it the + modern spirit. The book perfectly renders the disillusion, + languor and sentimentality which characterise a self-centred + scepticism. It is the record, indeed, of a morbid mind, but of + a mind gifted with extraordinary acuteness and with the utmost + delicacy of perception. Amiel wrote also several essays and + poems, but it is for the "Intimate Diary" alone that his name + will be remembered. + + +_Thoughts on Life and Conduct_ + + +Only one thing is needful--to possess God. The senses, the powers of the +soul, and all outward resources are so many vistas opening upon +Divinity, so many ways of tasting and adoring God. To be detached from +all that is fugitive, and to seize only on the eternal and the absolute, +using the rest as no more than a loan, a tenancy! To worship, +understand, receive, feel, give, act--this is your law, your duty, your +heaven! + +After all, there is only one object which we can study, and that is the +modes and metamorphoses of the human spirit. All other studies lead us +back to this one. + +I have never felt the inward assurance of genius, nor the foretaste of +celebrity, nor of happiness, nor even the prospect of being husband, +father, or respected citizen. This indifference to the future is itself +a sign; my dreams are vague, indefinite; I must not now live, because I +am now hardly capable of living. Let me control myself; let me leave +life to the living, and betake myself to my ideas; let me write the +testament of my thoughts and of my heart. + + +_Heroism and Duty_ + + +Heroism is the splendid and wonderful triumph of the soul over the +flesh; that is to say, over fear--the fear of poverty, suffering, +calumny, disease, isolation and death. There is no true piety without +this dazzling concentration of courage. + +Duty has this great value--it makes us feel reality of the positive +world, while yet it detaches us from it. + +How vulnerable am I! If I were a father, what a host of sorrows a child +could bring on me! As a husband, I should suffer in a thousand ways, +because a thousand conditions are necessary to my happiness. My heart is +too sensitive, my imagination anxious, and despair is easy. The "might +be" spoils for me what is, the "should be" devours me with melancholy; +and this reality, present, irreparable, inevitable, disgusts or +frightens me. So it is that I put away the happy images of family life. +Every hope is an egg which may hatch a serpent instead of a dove; every +joy that fails is a knife-wound; every seed-time entrusted to destiny +has its harvest of pain. + +What is duty? Is it to obey one's nature at its best and most spiritual; +or is it to vanquish one's nature? That is the deepest question. Is life +essentially the education of the spirit and of the intelligence, or is +it the education of the will? And does will lie in power or in +resignation? + +Therefore are there two worlds--Christianity affords and teaches +salvation by the conversion of the will; but humanism brings salvation +by the emancipation of the spirit. The first seizes upon the heart, and +the other upon the brain. The first aims at illumining by healing, the +other at healing by illumining. Now, moral love, the first of these two +principles, places the centre of the individual in the centre of his +being. For to love is virtually to know; but to know is not virtually to +love. Redemption by knowledge or by intellectual love is inferior to +redemption by the will or by moral love. The former is critical and +negative; the latter is life-giving, fertilising, positive. Moral force +is the vital point. + + +_The Era of Mediocrity_ + + +The era of mediocrity in all things is beginning, and mediocrity freezes +desire. Equality engenders uniformity; and evil is got rid of by +sacrificing all that is excellent, remarkable, extraordinary. Everything +becomes less coarse but more vulgar. The epoch of great men is passing +away; the epoch of the ant-hill is upon us. The age of individualism is +in danger of having no real individuals. Things are certainly +progressing, but souls decline. + +The point of view of Schleiermacher's "Monologues," which is also that +of Emerson, is great indeed, but proud and egotistical, since the Self +is made the centre of the universe. It is man rejoicing in himself, +taking refuge in the inaccessible sanctuary of self-consciousness, and +becoming almost a god. It is a triumph which is not far removed from +impiety; it is a superhuman point of view which does away with humility; +it is precisely the temptation to which man first succumbed when he +desired to become his own master by becoming like the gods. + +We are too much encumbered with affairs, too busy, too active; we even +read too much. We must throw overboard all our cargo of anxieties, +preoccupations and pedantry to recover youth, simplicity, childhood, and +the present moment with its happy mood of gratitude. By that leisure +which is far from idleness, by an attentive and recollected inaction, +the soul loses her creases, expands, unfolds, repairs her injuries like +a bruised leaf, and becomes once more new, spontaneous, true, original +Reverie, like showers at night, refreshes the thoughts which have become +worn and discoloured by the heat of day. + +I have been walking in the garden in a fine autumnal rain. All the +innumerable, wonderful symbols which the forms and colours of Nature +afford charm me and catch at my heart. There is no country scene that is +not a state of the soul, and whoever will read the two together will be +astonished by their detailed similarity. Far truer is true poetry than +science; poetry seizes at first glance in her synthetic way that +essential thing which all the sciences put together can only hope to +reach at the very end. + + +_Lessons from the Greeks_ + + +How much we have to learn from our immortal forefathers, the Greeks; and +how far better than we did they solve their problem! Their type was not +ours, but how much better did they revere, cultivate and ennoble the man +they knew! Beside them we are barbarians in a thousand ways, as in +education, eloquence, public life, poetry, and the like. If the number +of its accomplished men be the measure of a civilization, ours is far +below theirs. We have not slaves beneath us, but we have them among us. +Barbarism is not at our frontiers, but at our doors. We bear within us +greater things, but we ourselves are how much smaller! Strange paradox: +that their objective civilisation should have created great men as it +were by accident, while our subjective civilisation, contrary to its +express mission, turns out paltry halflings. Things are becoming +majestic, but man is diminishing. + + +_The Glory of Motherhood_ + + +A mother should be to her child as the sun in the heavens, a changeless +and ever radiant star, whither the inconstant little creature, so ready +with its tears and its daughter, so light, so passionate, so stormy, may +come to calm and to fortify itself with heat and light. A mother +represents goodness, providence, law, nay, divinity itself, under the +only form in which childhood can meet with these high things. If, +therefore, she is passionate, she teaches that God is capricious or +despotic, or even that there are several gods in conflict. The child's +religion depends on the way in which its mother and its father have +lived, and not on the way in which they have spoken. The inmost tone of +their life is precisely what reaches their child, who finds no more than +comedy or empty thunder in their maxims, remonstrances and punishments. +Their actual and central worship--that is what his instinct infallibly +perceives. A child sees what we are, through all the fictions of what we +would be. + +It is curious to see, in discussions on speculative matters, how +abstract minds, who move from ideas to facts, always do battle for +concrete reality; while concrete minds, on the other hand, who move from +facts to ideas, are usually the champions of abstract notions. The more +intellectual nature trusts to an ethical theory; the more moral nature +has an intellectualist morality. + +The centre of life is neither in thought, nor in feeling, nor in will; +nor even in consciousness in so far as it thinks, feels, or wills; for a +moral truth may have been penetrated and possessed in all these ways, +and yet escape us still. Far below our consciousness is our being, our +substance, our nature. Those truths alone which have entered this +profound region, and have become ourselves, and are spontaneous, +involuntary, instinctive and unconscious--only these are really our life +and more than our external possessions. Now, it is certain that we can +find our peace only in life, and, indeed, only in eternal life; and +eternal life is God. Only when the creature is one, by a unity of love, +with his Creator--only then is he what he is meant to be. + + +_The Secret of Perpetual Youth_ + + +There are two degrees of pride--one, wherein a man is self-complacent; +the other, wherein he is unable to accept himself. Of these two degrees, +the second is probably the more subtle. + +The whole secret of remaining young in spite of years is to keep an +enthusiasm burning within, by means of poetry, contemplation and +charity, or, more briefly, by keeping a harmony in the soul. When +everything is rightly ordered within us, we may rest in equilibrium with +the work of God. A certain grave enthusiasm for the eternal beauty and +order; a glowing mind and cloudless goodwill: these are, perhaps, the +foundation of wisdom. How inexhaustible is the theme of wisdom! A +peaceful aureole surrounds this rich conception. Wisdom includes all +treasures of moral experience, and is the ripest fruit of a well-spent +life. She never ages, for she is the very expression of order, and order +is eternal. Only the wise man tastes all the savour of life and of every +age, because only he can recognise their beauty, dignity and worth. To +see all things in God, to make of one's own life a voyage to the ideal, +to live with gratitude, recollection, kindness and courage--this was the +admirable spirit of Marcus Aurelius. Add to these a kneeling humility +and a devoted charity, and you have the wisdom of God's children, the +undying joy of true Christians. + + +_The Fascination of Love_ + + +Woman would be loved without reason, without analysis; not because she +is beautiful, or good, or cultivated, or gracious, or spiritual, but +because she exists. Every analysis seems to her an attenuation and a +subordination of her personality to something which dominates and +measures it. She rejects it therefore, and rightly rejects it. For as +soon as one can say "because," one is no longer under the spell; one +appreciates or weighs, and at least in principle one is free. If the +empire of woman is to continue, love must remain a fascination, an +enchantment; once her mystery is gone, her power is gone also. So love +must appear indivisible, irreducible, superior to all analysis, if it is +to retain those aspects of infinitude, of the supernatural and the +miraculous, which constitute its beauty. Most people hold cheaply +whatever they understand, and bow down only before the inexplicable. +Woman's triumph is to demonstrate the obscurity of that male +intelligence which thinks itself so enlightened; and when women inspire +love, they are not without the proud joy of this triumph. Their vanity +is not altogether baseless; but a profound love is a light and a calm, a +religion and a revelation, which in its turn despises these lesser +triumphs of vanity. Great souls wish nothing but the great, and all +artifices seem shamefully puerile to one immersed in the infinite. + + +_Man's Useless Yearning_ + + +Eternal effort is the note of modern morality. This painful restless +"becoming" has taken the place of harmony, equilibrium, joy, that is to +say, of "being." We are all fauns and satyrs aspiring to become angels, +ugly creatures labouring at our embellishment, monstrous chrysalids +trying to become butterflies. Our ideal is no longer the tranquil beauty +of the soul, it is the anguish of Laocoon fighting with the hydra of +evil. No longer are there happy and accomplished men; we are candidates, +indeed, for heaven, but on earth galley-slaves, and we row away our life +in the expectation of harbour. It seems possible that this perfecting of +which we are so proud is nothing else but a pretentious imperfection. + +The "becoming" seems rather negative than positive; it is the lessening +of evil, but is not itself the good; it is a noble discontent, but is by +no means felicity. This ceaseless pursuit of an endless end is a +generous madness, but is not reason; it is the yearning for what can +never be, a touching malady, but it is not wisdom. Yet there is none who +may not achieve harmony; and when he has it, he is within the eternal +order, and represents the divine thought at least as clearly as a flower +does, or a solar system. Harmony seeks nothing that is outside herself. +She is exactly that which she should be; she expresses goodness, order, +law, truth, honour; she transcends time and reveals the eternal. + + +_Memories of the Golden Age_ + + +In the world of society one must seem to live on ambrosia and to know +none but noble thoughts. Anxiety, want, passion, simply do not exist. +All realism is suppressed as brutal. It is a world which amuses itself +with the flattering illusion that it lives above the clouds and breathes +mythological air. That is why all vehemence, the cry of Nature, all +suffering, thoughtless familiarity, and every frank sign of love shock +this delicate medium like a bombshell; they shatter this collective +fabric, this palace of clouds, this enchanted architecture, just as +shrill cockcrow scatters the fairies into hiding. These fine receptions +are unconsciously a work of art, a kind of poetry, by which cultivated +society reconstructs an idyll that is age-long dead. They are confused +memories of the golden age, or aspirations after a harmony which mundane +reality has not in it to give. + + +_Goethe Under the Lash_ + + +I cannot like Goethe: he has little soul. His understanding of love, +religion, duty, patriotism, is paltry and even shocking. He lacks an +ardent generosity. A central dryness, an ill-cloaked egoism show through +his supple and rich talent. True, this selfishness of his at least +respects everyone's liberty and applauds all originality; but it helps +no one, troubles itself for no one, bears no one's burden; in a word, it +lacks charity, the great Christian virtue. To his mind perfection lies +in personal nobility, and not in love. His keynote is æsthetic and not +moral. He ignores sanctity, and has never so much as reflected on the +terrible problem of evil. He believes in the opportunity of the +individual, but neither in liberty nor in responsibility. He is a +stranger to the social and political aspirations of the multitude; he +has no more thought for the disinherited, the feeble, the oppressed, +than Nature has. + +The profound disquiet of our era never touches Goethe; discords do not +affect the deaf. Whoso has never heard the voice of conscience, regret +and remorse, cannot even guess at the anxiety of those who have two +masters, two laws, and belong to two worlds, the world of Nature and the +world of Liberty. His choice is already made; his only world is Nature. +But it is far otherwise with humanity. For men hear indeed the prophets +of Nature, but they hear also the voice of Religion; the joy of life +attracts them, but devotion moves them also; they no longer know whether +they hate or adore the crucifix. + + +_Nothing New Under the Sun_ + + +Jealousy is a terrible thing; it resembles love, but is in every way its +contrary; the jealous man desires, not the good of the loved one, but +her dependence on him and his triumph over her. Love is the +forgetfulness of Self; but jealousy is the most passionate form of +egoism, the exaltation of the despotic, vain and greedy Self, which +cannot forget and subordinate itself. The contrast is complete. + +The man of fifty years, contemplating the world, finds in it certainly +some new things; but a thousand times more does he find old things +furbished up, and plagiarisms and modifications rather than +improvements. Almost everything in the world is a copy of a copy, a +reflection of a reflection; and any real success or progress is as rare +to-day as it has ever been. Let us not complain of it, for only so can +the world last. Humanity advances at a very slow pace; that is why +history continues. It may be that progress fans the torch to burn away; +perhaps progress accelerates death. A society which should change +rapidly would only arrive the sooner at its catastrophe. Yes, progress +must be the aroma of life, and not its very substance. + +To renounce happiness and think only of duty; to enthrone conscience +where the heart has been: this willing immolation is a noble thing. Our +nature jibes at it, but the better self will submit to it. To hope for +justice is the proof of a sickly sensibility; we ought to be able to do +without justice. A virile character consists in just that independence. +Let the world think of us what it will; that is its affair, not ours. +Our business is to act as if our country were grateful, as if the world +judged in equity, as if public opinion could see the truth, as if life +were just, and as if men were good. + + +_The Only Art of Peace and Rest_ + + +Few people know of our physical sufferings; our nearest and dearest have +no idea of our interviews with the king of terrors. There are thoughts +for which there is no confidant, sorrows which may not be shared. +Kindness itself leads us to hide them. One suffers alone; one dies +alone; alone one hides away in the little apartment of six boards. But +we are not forbidden to open this solitude to our God. Thus the +soliloquy of anguish becomes a dialogue of peace, reluctance becomes +docility, suffocation becomes liberty. + +Willing what God wills is the only art of peace and rest. It is strange +to go to bed knowing that one may not see to-morrow. I knew it well last +night; yet here I am. When one counts the future by hours, and to-night +is already the unknown, one gives up everything and just talks with +oneself. I return to my mind and to my journal, as the hare returns to +its form to die. As long as I can hold pen and have a moment of solitude +I will recollect myself before this my echo, and converse with my God. +Not an examination of conscience, not an act of contrition, not a cry of +appeal. Only an Amen of submission ... "My child, give Me your heart." + + * * * * * + + + + +ST. AUGUSTINE + + +Confessions + + + Aurelius Augustine was born at Tagaste, a city of Numidia, on + November 13, 354. This greatest of the Latin Christian Fathers + was the son of a magistrate named Patricius, who was a pagan + till near the close of his life. Augustine was sent to school + at Madaura, and next to study at Carthage. His mother, Monica, + early became an ardent Christian, and her saintly influence + guided the youth towards the light; but entanglement in + philosophic doubts constrained him to associate with the + Manichæans, and then with the Platonists. His mental struggles + lasted eleven years. Going to Rome to teach rhetoric, he was + invited to Milan to lecture, and there was attracted by the + eloquent preaching of Bishop Ambrose. His whole current of + thought was changed, and the two became ardent friends. In + 391, Augustine was ordained priest by Valerius, Bishop of + Hippo, whose colleague he was appointed in 395. At the age of + 41, he was designated Bishop of Hippo, and filled the office + for 35 years, passing away in his 76th year, on August 28, + 430, during the third year of the siege of Hippo by the + Vandals under Genseric. His numerous and remarkable works + stamp him as one of the world's transcendent intellects. His + two monumental treatises are the "Confessions" and "The City + of God." + + +_I.--Regrets of a Mis-spent Youth_ + + +"Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised." My faith, Lord, +should call on Thee, which Thou hast given me by the incarnation of Thy +Son, through the ministry of the preacher, Ambrose. How shall I call +upon my God? What room is there within me, wherein my God can come? +Narrow is the house of my soul; enlarge Thou it, that it may be able to +receive Thee. Thou madest us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless +until they rest in Thee. + +I began, as yet a boy, to pray to Thee, that I might not be beaten at +school; but I sinned in disobeying the commands of parents and teachers +through love of play, delighting in the pride of victory in my contests. +I loved not study, and hated to be forced to it. Unless forced, I did +not learn at all. But no one does well against his will, even though +what he does is good. But what was well came to me from Thee, my God, +for Thou hast decreed that every inordinate affection should carry with +it its own punishment. + +But why did I so much hate the Greek which I was taught as a boy? I do +not yet fully know. For the Latin I loved; not what my first masters, +but what the so-called grammarians taught me. For those first +lessons--reading, writing, and arithmetic--I thought as great a burden +and as vexatious as any Greek. But in the other lessons I learned the +wanderings of Æneas, forgetful of my own, and wept for the dead Dido +because she killed herself for love; while, with dry eyes, I endured my +miserable self-dying among these things, far from Thee, my God, my life. + +Why, then, did I hate the Greek classics, full of like fictions to those +in Virgil? For Homer also curiously wove similar stories, and is most +pleasant, yet was disagreeable to my boyish taste. In truth, the +difficulty of a foreign tongue dashed as with gall all the sweetness of +the Greek fable. For not one word of it did I understand, and to make me +learn I was urged vehemently with cruel threats and stripes. Yet I +learned with delight the fictions in Latin concerning the wicked doings +of Jove and Juno, and for this I was pronounced a helpful boy, being +applauded above many of my own age and class. + +I will now call to mind my past uncleanness and the carnal corruptions +of my soul; not because I love them, but that I may love Thee, O my God. +What was it that I delighted in, but to love and to be loved? But I kept +not the measure of love of soul to soul, friendship's bright boundary, +for I could not discern the brightness of love from the fog of lust. +Where was I, and how far was I exiled from the delights of Thy house, in +that sixteenth year of my age, when the madness of licence took the rule +over me? My friends, meanwhile, took no care by marriage to prevent my +fall; their only care was that I should learn to speak excellently, and +become a great orator. Now, for that year my studies were intermitted; +whilst, after my return from Madaura--a neighbouring city whither I had +journeyed to learn grammar and rhetoric--the expenses for a further +journey to Carthage were provided for me; and that rather by sacrifice +than by the ordinary means of my father, who was but a poor citizen of +Tagaste. But yet this same father had no concern how I grew towards +Thee; or how chaste I were; or, so that I were but eloquent, how barren +I were to Thy culture, O God. + +But while in that my sixteenth year I lived with my parents, the briers +of unclean desires grew rank over my head, and there was no hand to root +them out. My father rejoiced to see me growing towards manhood, but in +my mother's breast Thou hadst already begun Thy temple, whereas my +father was as yet but a catechumen, and that but recently. I remember +how she, seized with a holy fear and trembling, in private warned me +with great anxiety against fornication. These seemed to me womanish +advices which I should blush to obey. But they were Thine, and I knew it +not. I ran headlong with such blindness that amongst my equals I was +ashamed of being less shameless than others when I heard them boast of +their wickedness. I would even say I had done what I had not done that I +might not seem contemptible exactly in proportion as I was innocent. + + +_II.--Monica's Prayers and Augustine's Paganism_ + + +To Carthage I came, where there sang in my ears a cauldron of unholy +loves. I denied the spring of friendship with the filth of +concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the hell of lust. + +Stage plays always carried me away, full of images of my miseries and of +fuel to my fire. In the theatres I rejoiced with lovers, when they +succeeded in their criminal intrigues, imaginary only in the play; and +when they lost one another I sorrowed with them. Those studies also +which were accounted commendable, led me away, having a view of +excelling in the courts of litigation, where I should be the more +praised the craftier I became. And now I was the head scholar in the +rhetoric school, whereat I swelled with conceit. I learned books of +eloquence, wherein I desired to be eminent. In the course of study I +fell upon a certain book of Cicero which contains an exhortation to +philosophy, and is called "Hortensius." This book changed my +disposition, and turned my prayers to Thyself, O Lord. I longed with an +incredible ardour for the immortality of wisdom, and began now to arise +a wish that I might return to Thee. I resolved then to turn my mind to +the Holy Scriptures, to see what they were; but when I turned to them my +pride shrank from their humility, disdaining to be one of the little +ones. + +Therefore, I fell among men proudly doting, exceeding carnal, and great +talkers, who served up to me, when hungering after Thee, the Sun and +Moon, beautiful works of Thine, but not Thyself. Yet, taking these +glittering phantasies to be Thee, I fed thereon, but was not nourished +by them, but rather became more empty. I knew not God to be a Spirit. +Nor knew I that true inward righteousness, which judgeth not according +to custom, but out of the most righteous laws of Almighty God. Under the +influence of these Manichæans I scoffed at Thy holy servants and +prophets. And Thou "sentest Thine hand from above," and deliveredst my +soul from that profound darkness. My mother, Thy faithful one, wept to +Thee for me, for she discerned the death wherein I lay, and Thou +heardest her, O Lord. Thou gavest her answers first in visions. There +passed yet nine years in which I wallowed in the mire of that deep pit +and the darkness of error. Thou gavest her meantime another answer by a +priest of Thine, a certain bishop brought up in Thy Church, and well +studied in books, whom she entreated to converse with me and to refute +my errors. He answered that I was as yet unteachable, being puffed up +with the novelty of that heresy. "But let him alone awhile," saith he; +"only pray to God for him, he will of himself, by reading, find what +that error is, and how great its impiety." He told her how he himself, +when a little one, had by his mother been consigned over to the +Manichæans, but had found out how much that sect was to be abhorred, and +had, therefore, avoided it. But he assured her that the child of such +tears as hers could not perish. Which answer she took as an oracle from +heaven. + +Thus, from my nineteenth year to my twenty-eighth we lived, hunting +after popular applause and poetic prizes, and secretly following a false +religion. In those years I taught rhetoric, and in those years I had +conversation with one--not in that which is called lawful marriage--yet +with but one, remaining faithful even unto her. Those impostors whom +they style astrologers I consulted without scruple. In those years, when +I first began to teach rhetoric in my native town, I had made one my +friend, only too dear to me from a community of studies and pursuits, of +my own age, and, as myself, in the first bloom of youth. I had perverted +him also to those superstitions and pernicious fables for which my +mother bewailed me. With me he now erred in mind, nor could my soul be +happy without him But behold Thou wert close on the steps of Thy +fugitives, at once "God of Vengeance" and Fountain of Mercies, turning +us to Thyself by wonderful means. Thou tookest that man out of this +life, when he had scarce filled up one whole year of my friendship, +sweet to me above all sweetness of that my life. For long, sore sick of +a fever, he lay senseless in a death-sweat; so that, his recovery being +despaired of, he was baptised in that condition. He was relieved and +restored, and I essayed to jest with him, expecting him to do the same, +at that baptism which he had received when in the swoon. But he shrank +from me as from an enemy, and forbade such language. A few days +afterwards he was happily taken from my folly, that with Thee he might +be preserved for my comfort. In my absence he was attacked again by the +fever, and so died. At this grief my heart was utterly darkened. My +native country was a torment, and my father's house a strange +unhappiness to me. At length I fled out of the country, for so my eyes +missed him less where they were wont to see him. And thus from Tagaste I +came to Carthage. + + +_III.--The Influence of St. Ambrose on Augustine's Life_ + + +I would lay open before my God that nine and twentieth year of my age. +There had then come to Carthage a certain Bishop of the Manichæans, +Faustus by name, a great snare of the Devil, and many were entangled by +him through the smooth lure of his language. Because he had read some of +Cicero's orations and a few of Seneca's books, some of the poets, and +such volumes of his own sect as were written in good Latin, he acquired +a certain seductive eloquence. But it soon became clear that he was +ignorant in those arts in which I thought he excelled, and I began to +despair of his solving the difficulties which perplexed me. He was +sensible of his ignorance in these things, and confessed it, and thus my +zeal for the writings of the Manichæans was blunted. Thus Faustus, to so +many a snare of death, had now, neither willing nor witting it, begun to +loosen that wherein I was taken. Thou didst deal with me that I should +be persuaded to go to Rome and to teach there rather what I was teaching +at Carthage, my chief and only reason being that I heard that young men +studied there more peacefully, and were kept under a more regular +discipline. My mother remained behind weeping and praying. And, behold, +at Rome I was received by the scourge of bodily sickness, and I was +going down to hell, carrying all the sins that I had committed. Thou +healdest me of that sickness that I might live for Thee to bestow upon +me a better and more abiding health. I began then diligently to teach +rhetoric in Rome when, lo! I found other offences committed in that +city, to which I had not been exposed in Africa, for, on a sudden, a +number of youths plot together to avoid paying their master's salary, +and remove to another school. When, therefore, they of Milan had sent to +Rome to the prefect of the city, to furnish them with a rhetoric reader +for their city, I made application that Symmachus, then prefect of the +city, would try me by setting me some subject for oration, and so send +me. Thus to Milan I came, to Ambrose the bishop, best known to the whole +world as among the best of men, Thy servant. To him I was unknowingly +led by Thee, that by him I might knowingly be led to Thee. That man of +God received me as a father, and showed me an episcopal kindness at my +coming. Thenceforth I began to love him. I was delighted with his +eloquence as he preached to the people, though I took no pains to learn +what he taught, but only to hear how he spake. + +My mother had now come to me. When I had discovered to her that I was +now no longer a Manichaean, though not yet a Catholic Christian, she was +not overjoyed as at something unexpected. But she redoubled her prayers +and tears for me now that what she had begged of Thee daily with tears +was in so great part realised; and she hurried the more eagerly to the +church, and hung on the lips of Ambrose, whom she loved as "an angel of +God," because she knew that by him I had been brought to that wavering I +was now in. I heard him every Lord's Day expound the word of truth, and +was sure that all the knots of the Manichæans could be unravelled. So I +was confounded and converted. Yet I panted after honours, gains, +marriage--and in these desires I underwent most bitter crosses. + +One day, when I was preparing to recite a panegyric on the Emperor +[probably the Emperor Valentinian the Younger], wherein I was to utter +many a lie, and, lying, was to be applauded by those who knew I lied, +while passing through the streets of Milan, I observed a poor beggar +joking and joyous. I sighed, and spoke to the friends around me of the +many sorrows of the phantoms we pursued--for by all our effort and toil +we yet looked to arrive only at the very joyousness whither that beggar +had arrived before us. I was racked with cares, but he, by saying "God +bless you!" had got some good wine; I, by talking lies, was hunting +after empty praise. Chiefly did I speak of such things with Alypius and +Bebridius, of whom Alypius was born in the same town with me, and had +studied under me, and loved me. But the whirlpool of Carthaginian habits +had, when he lived there, drawn him into follies of the circus. One day +as I sat teaching my scholars, he entered and listened attentively, +while I by chance had in hand a passage which, while I was explaining, +suggested to me a simile from the circensian races, not without a jibe +at those who were enthralled by that folly. Alpius took it wholly to +himself, and he returned no more to the filths of the circensian +pastimes in Carthage. But he had gone before me to Rome, and there he +was carried away with an incredible eagerness after the shows of +gladiators. Him I found at Rome, and he clave to me and went with me to +Milan, that he might be with me, and also practise something of the law +that he had studied. Bebridius also left Carthage, that with me he might +continue the search after truth. + +Meantime my sins were being multiplied. Continual effort was made to +have me married, chiefly through my mother's pains, that so once +married, the health-giving baptism might cleanse me. My concubine being +torn from my side as a hindrance to my marriage, my heart, which clave +unto her, was torn and wounded; and she returned to Africa, leaving with +me my son by her. But, unhappy, I procured another, though no wife. + +To Thee be praise, Fountain of Mercies! I was becoming more miserable, +and Thou drewest nearer to me in my misery! + + +_IV.--The Birth of a New Life_ + + +My evil and abominable youth was now dead. I was passing into early +manhood. Meeting with certain books of the Platonists, translated from +Greek into Latin, I therein read, not in the same words, but to the same +purpose, that "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, +and the Word was God." But that "the Word was made flesh and dwelt among +us" I read not there. That Jesus humbled Himself to the death of the +Cross, and was raised from the dead and exalted unto glory, that at His +name every knee should bow, I read not there. + +Then I sought a way of obtaining strength, and found it not until I +embraced "that Mediator between God and Man, the Man Christ Jesus." +Eagerly did I seize that venerable writing of Thy Spirit, and chiefly +the Apostle Paul. Whereupon those difficulties vanished wherein he +formerly seemed to me to contradict himself and the text of his +discourse not to agree with the testimonies of the Law and the Prophets. +But now they appeared to me to contain one pure and uniform doctrine; +and I learned to "rejoice with trembling." + +I had now found the goodly pearl, which, selling all I had, I ought to +have bought, and I hesitated. To Simplicianus [sent from Rome to be an +instructor and director to Ambrose], then I went, the spiritual father +of Ambrose and now a bishop, to whom I related the mazes of my +wanderings. He testified his joy that I had read certain books of the +Platonists and had not fallen on the writings of other deceitful +philosophers. And he related to me the story of the conversion of +Victorianus, the translator of those Platonist books, who was not +ashamed to become the humble little child of Thy Christ, after he had +for years with thundering eloquence inspired the people with the love of +Anubis, the barking deity, and all the monster gods who fought against +Neptune, Venus and Minerva, so that Rome now adored the deities she had +formerly conquered. But this proud worshipper of daemons suddenly and +unexpectedly said to Simplicianus, "Get us to the Church; I wish to be +made a Christian." And he was baptised to the wonder of Rome and the joy +of the Church. I was fired by this story and longed now to devote myself +entirely to God, but still did my two wills, one new and the other old, +one carnal and the other spiritual, struggle within me; and by their +discord undid my soul. + +And now Thou didst deliver me out of the bonds of desire, wherewith I +was bound most straitly to carnal concupiscence, I will now declare and +confess. Upon a day there came to see me and Alpius one Pontitianus, an +African fellow-countryman, in high office at the Emperor's court, who +was a Christian and baptised. He told us how one afternoon at Trier, +when the Emperor was taken up with the circensian games, he and three +companions went to walk in gardens near the city walls and lighten on a +certain cottage, inhabited by certain of Thy servants, and there they +found a little book containing the life of Antony. This some of them +began to read and admire; and he, as he read, began to meditate on +taking up such a life. By that book he was changed inwardly, as was one +of his companions also. Both had affianced brides, who, when they heard +of this change, also dedicated their virginity to God. + + +_V.--God's Command to Augustine and the Death of Monica_ + + +After much soul-sickness and torment of spirit took place an incident by +which Thou didst wholly break my chains. I was bewailing and weeping in +my heart, when, lo! I heard from a neighbouring house a voice as of a +boy or girl, I know not what, chanting, and oft repeating "Tolle, lege; +tolle, lege" ["Take up and read; take up and read"]. Instantly I rose +up, interpreting it to be no other than the voice of God, to open the +Book and read the first chapter I should find. Eagerly I seized the +volume of the apostle and opened and read that section on which my eyes +fell first: "Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and +wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord Jesus +Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts +thereof." No further would I read, nor needed I, for a light as it were +of serenity diffused in my heart, and all the darkness of doubt vanished +away. + +When shall I recall all that passed in those holy days? The +vintage-vacation I gave notice to the Milanese to provide their scholars +with another master to sell words to them; for I had made my choice to +serve Thee. It pleased Alypius also, when the time was come for my +baptism, to be born again with me in Thee. We joined with us the boy +Adeodatus, born of me, in my sin. Excellently hadst Thou made him. He +was not quite fifteen, and in wit surpassed many grave and learned men. +We were baptised, and anxiety for our past life vanished from us. + +The time was now approaching when Thy handmaid, my mother Monica, was to +depart this life. She fell sick of a fever, and on the ninth day of that +sickness, and the fifty-sixth year of her age, and the three and +thirtieth of mine, was that religious and holy soul set free from the +body. Being thus forsaken of so great comfort in her, my soul was +wounded. Little by little the wound was healed as I recovered my former +thoughts of her holy conversation towards Thee and her holy tenderness +and observance towards us. May she rest in peace with her sometime +husband Patricius, whom she obeyed, "with patience bringing forth fruit" +unto Thee, that she might win him also unto Thee. + +This is the object of my confessions now of what I am, not of what I +have been--to confess this not before Thee only, but in the ears also of +the believing sons of men. Too late I loved Thee! Thou wast with me, but +I was not with Thee. And now my whole hope is in nothing but Thy great +mercy. Since Thou gavest me continency I have observed it; but I retain +the memory of evil habits, and their images come up oft before me. And +Thou hast taught me concerning eating and drinking, that I should set +myself to take food as medicine. I strive daily against concupiscence in +eating and drinking. Thou hast disentangled me from the delights of the +ear and from the lusts of the eye. Into many snares of the senses my +mind wanders miserably, but Thou pluckest me out mercifully. By pride, +vainglory, and love of praise I am tempted, but I seek Thy mercy till +what is lacking in me by Thee be renewed and perfected. Thou knowest my +unskillfulness; teach me the wondrous things out of Thy law and heal me. + + * * * * * + + + + +JAMES BOSWELL + + +The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. + + + James Boswell, born on October 18, 1740, was the son of + Alexander Boswell of Auchinleck, better known as Lord + Auchinleck, one of the senators of the College of Justice, or + Supreme Court, of Scotland. Boswell was educated at Edinburgh + and Utrecht universities, and was called both to the Scots and + the English Bar. He was early interested in letters, and while + still a student, published some poems and magazine articles. + Boswell was introduced to Dr. Johnson on May 16, 1763. The + friendship rapidly ripened, and from 1772 to the death of the + illustrious moralist, was unbroken. As an introduction to "The + Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D."--perhaps the greatest of all + biographies--we can hardly do better than use the words of the + biographer himself. "To write the life of him who excelled all + mankind in writing the lives of others, and who, whether we + consider his extraordinary endowments or his various works, + has been equalled by few in any age, is an arduous, and may be + reckoned in me a presumptuous, task. But as I had the honour + and happiness of enjoying Dr. Johnson's friendship for upwards + of twenty years; as I had the scheme of writing his life + constantly in view; as he was well apprised of this + circumstance, and from time to time obligingly satisfied my + inquiries by communicating to me the incidents of his early + years; and as I have spared no pains in obtaining materials + concerning him, I flatter myself that few biographers have + entered upon such a work as this with more advantages, + independent of literary abilities, in which I am not vain + enough to compare myself with some great names who have gone + before me in this kind of writing." The "Life" was a signal + success at the time of its publication, and even yet is + unrivalled in the field of biography. Boswell latterly resided + permanently in London, and was proprietor of, and principal + contributor to, the "London Magazine". He died in his house in + Great Portland Street on May 19, 1795. + + +_I.--Parentage and Education_ + + +Samuel Johnson was born at Lichfield, in Staffordshire, on September +18,1709, and was baptised on the day of his birth. His father was +Michael Johnson, a native of Derbyshire, of obscure extraction, who +settled in Lichfield as a bookseller and stationer. His mother was Sarah +Ford, descended of an ancient race of substantial yeomanry in +Warwickshire. They were well advanced in years when they were married, +and never had more than two children, both sons--Samuel, their first +born, whose various excellences I am to endeavour to record, and +Nathaniel, who died in his twenty-fifth year. + +Mr. Michael Johnson was a man of a large and robust body, and of a +strong and active mind; yet there was in him a mixture of that disease +the nature of which eludes the most minute inquiry, though the effects +are well known to be a weariness of life, an unconcern about those +things which agitate the greater part of mankind, and a general +sensation of gloomy wretchedness. From him, then, his son inherited, +with some other qualities, "a vile melancholy," which, in his too strong +expression of any disturbance of the mind, "made him mad all his +life--at least, not sober." Old Mr. Johnson was a pretty good Latin +scholar, and a citizen so creditable as to be made one of the +magistrates of Lichfield; and, being a man of good sense and skill in +his trade, he acquired a reasonable share of wealth, of which, however, +he afterwards lost the greatest part, by engaging unsuccessfully in a +manufacture of parchment. + +Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted with the scrofula, +or king's evil, which disfigured a countenance naturally well formed, +and hurt his visual nerves so much that he did not see at all with one +of his eyes, though its appearance was little different from that of the +other. Yet, when he and I were travelling in the Highlands of Scotland, +and I pointed out to him a mountain, which, I observed, resembled a +cone, he corrected my inaccuracy by showing me that it was indeed +pointed at the top, but that one side of it was larger than the other. +And the ladies with whom he was acquainted agree that no man was more +nicely and minutely critical in the elegance of female dress. + +He was first taught to read English by Dame Oliver, a widow, who kept a +school for young children in Lichfield. He began to learn Latin with Mr. +Hawkins, usher, or under-master, of Lichfield School. Then he rose to be +under the care of Mr. Hunter, the head-master, who, according to his +account "was very severe, and wrong-headedly severe. He used," said he, +"to beat us unmercifully, and he did not distinguish between ignorance +and negligence." Yet Johnson was very sensible how much he owed to Mr. +Hunter. Mr. Langton one day asked him how he had acquired so accurate a +knowledge of Latin, in which, I believe, he was exceeded by no man of +his time. He said, "My master whipped me very well. Without that, sir, I +should have done nothing." Indeed, upon all occasions, he expressed his +approbation of enforcing instruction by means of the rod. "The rod," +said he, "produces an effect which terminates in itself. A child is +afraid of being whipped, and gets his task, and there's an end on't; +whereas, by exciting emulation and comparisons of superiority, you lay +the foundation of lasting mischief." + +From his earliest years Johnson's superiority was perceived and +acknowledged. He was from the beginning a king of men. His schoolfellow, +Mr. Hector, has assured me that he never knew him corrected at school +but for talking and diverting other boys from their business. He seemed +to learn by intuition; for though indolence and procrastination were +inherent in his constitution, whenever he made an exertion he did more +than anyone else. He was uncommonly inquisitive; and his memory was so +tenacious that he never forgot anything that he either heard or read. +Mr. Hector remembers having recited to him eighteen verses, which, after +a little pause, he repeated _verbatim_. + +He never joined with the other boys in their ordinary diversions, for +his defective sight prevented him from enjoying them; and he once +pleasantly remarked to me "how wonderfully well he had contrived to be +idle without them." Of this inertness of disposition Johnson had all his +life too great a share. + +After having resided for some time at the house of his uncle, Cornelius +Ford, Johnson was, at the age of fifteen, removed to the school of +Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. Wentworth was then master. +At this school he did not receive so much benefit as was expected, and +remaining there little more than a year, returned home, where he may be +said to have loitered for two years. He had no settled plan of life, and +though he read a great deal in a desultory manner, he read only as +chance and inclination directed him. "What I read," he told me, "were +not voyages and travels, but all literature, sir, all ancient writers, +all manly; though but little Greek, only some of Anacreon and Hesiod. +But in this irregular manner I had looked into many books which were not +known at the universities, where they seldom read any books but what are +put into their hands by their tutors; so that when I came to Oxford, Dr. +Adams, now Master of Pembroke College, told me I was the best qualified +for the university that he had ever known come there." + + +_II--Marriage and Settlement in London_ + + +Compelled by his father's straitened circumstances, Johnson left +Pembroke College in the autumn of 1731, without taking a degree, having +been a member of it little more than three years. In December of this +year his father died. + +In this forlorn state of his circumstances, he accepted an offer to be +employed as usher in the school of Market Bosworth, in Leicestershire. +But he was strongly averse to the painful drudgery of teaching, and, +having quarrelled with Sir Wolstan Dixie, the patron of the school, he +relinquished after a few months a situation which all his life +afterwards he recollected with the strongest aversion and even a degree +of horror. Among the acquaintances he made at this period was Mr. +Porter, a mercer at Birmingham, whose widow he afterwards married. In +what manner he employed his pen in 1733 I have not been able to +ascertain. He probably got a little money for occasional work, and it is +certain that he was occupied about this time in the translation of +Lobo's "Voyage to Abyssinia," which was published in 1735, and brought +him five guineas from this same bookseller. It is reasonable to suppose +that his rendering of Lobo's work was the remote occasion of his +writing, many years after, his admirable philosophical tale, "Rasselas, +Prince of Abyssinia." + +Miss Porter told me that when Mr. Johnson was first introduced to her +mother his appearance was very forbidding; he was then lean and lank, so +that his immense structure of bones was hideously striking to the eye, +and the scars of the scrofula were deeply visible. He also wore his +hair, which was straight and stiff, and separated behind; and he often +had, seemingly, convulsive starts and odd gesticulations, which tended +to excite at once surprise and ridicule. Mrs. Porter was so much engaged +by his conversation that she overlooked all these external +disadvantages, and said to her daughter, "This is the most sensible man +that I ever saw in my life." + +Though Mrs. Porter, now a widow, was double the age of Johnson, and her +person and manner, as described to me by the late Mr. Garrick, were by +no means pleasing to others, she must have had a superiority of +understanding and talents, as she certainly inspired him with a more +than ordinary passion. The marriage took place at Derby, on July 9, +1736. + +He now set up a private academy, for which purpose he hired a large +house well situated near his native city. In the "Gentleman's Magazine" +for 1736 there is the following advertisement: + +"At Edial, near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young gentlemen are boarded +and taught the Latin and Greek languages, by SAMUEL JOHNSON." + +But the only pupils that were put under his care were the celebrated +David Garrick and his brother George, and a Mr. Offely, a young +gentleman of fortune, who died early. + +Johnson, indeed, was not more satisfied with his situation as the master +of an academy than with that of the usher of a school; we need not +wonder, therefore, that he did not keep his academy more than a year and +a half. From Mr. Garrick's account he did not appear to have been +profoundly reverenced by his pupils. His oddities of manner and uncouth +gesticulations could not but be the subject of merriment to them; and in +particular, the young rogues used to turn into ridicule his awkward +fondness for Mrs. Johnson, whom he used to name by the familiar +appellation of Tetty or Tetsey, which, like Betty or Betsey, is +provincially used as a contraction for Elizabeth, her Christian name, +but which to us seems ludicrous when applied to a woman of her age and +appearance. Mr. Garrick described her to me as very fat, with swelled +cheeks of a florid red produced by thick painting, and increased by the +liberal use of cordials; flaring and fantastic in her dress, and +affected both in her speech and her general behaviour. + +While Johnson kept his academy, I have not discovered that he wrote +anything except a great portion of his tragedy of "Irene." When he had +finished some part of it, he read what he had done to his friend, Mr. +Gilbert Walmsley, Registrar of the Prerogative Court of Lichfield, who +was so well pleased with this proof of Johnson's abilities as a dramatic +writer that he advised him to finish the tragedy and produce it on the +stage. Accordingly, Johnson and his friend and pupil, David Garrick, +went to try their fortunes in London in 1737, the former with the hopes +of getting work as a translator and of turning out a fine +tragedy-writer, the latter with the intention of completing his +education, and of following the profession of the law. How, indeed, +Johnson employed himself upon his first coming to London is not +particularly known. His tragedy, of which he had entertained such hopes, +was submitted to Mr. Fleetwood, the patentee of Drury Lane Theatre, and +rejected. + + +_III.--Poverty Stricken in London_ + + +Johnson's first performance in the "Gentleman's Magazine," which for +many years was his principal source of employment and support, was a +copy of Latin verses, in March, 1738, addressed to the editor. He was +now enlisted by Mr. Cave, as a regular coadjutor in his magazine, by +which he probably obtained a tolerable livelihood. What we certainly +know to have been done by him in this way were the debates in both +Houses of Parliament, under the name of "The Senate of Lilliput." + +Thus was Johnson employed during some of the best years of his life, +solely to obtain an honest support. But what first displayed his +transcendent powers, and "gave the world assurance of the Man," was his +"London, a Poem in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal," which came +out in May this year (1738), and burst forth with a splendour the rays +of which will forever encircle his name. + +But though thus elevated into fame, Johnson could not expect to produce +many such works as his "London," and he felt the hardships of writing +for bread. He was therefore willing to resume the office of a +schoolmaster, and, an offer being made to him of the mastership of a +school, provided he could obtain the degree of Master of Arts, Dr. Adams +was applied to by a common friend to know whether that could be granted +to him as a favour from the university of Oxford. But it was then +thought too great a favour to be asked. + +During the next five years, 1739-1743, Johnson wrote largely for the +"Gentleman's Magazine," and supplied the account of the Parliamentary +Debates from November 19, 1740, to February 23, 1743, inclusive. It does +not appear that he wrote anything of importance for the magazine in +1744. But he produced one work this year, fully sufficient to maintain +the high reputation which he had acquired. This was "The Life of Richard +Savage," a man of whom it is difficult to speak impartially without +wondering that he was for some time the intimate companion of Johnson; +for his character was marked by profligacy, insolence, and ingratitude; +yet, as he undoubtedly had a warm and vigorous, though unregulated mind, +had seen life in all its varieties, and been much in the company of the +statesmen and wits of his time, he could communicate to Johnson an +abundant supply of such materials as his philosophical curiosity most +eagerly desired; and so his visits to St. John's Gate--the office of the +"Gentleman's Magazine"--naturally brought Johnson and him together. + + +_IV.--Preparation of the "Dictionary"_ + + +It is somewhat curious that Johnson's literary career appears to have +been almost totally suspended in 1745 and 1746. But the year 1747 is +distinguished as the epoch when Johnson's arduous and important work, +his "Dictionary of the English Language," was announced to the world, by +the publication of its "Plan or Prospectus." + +The booksellers who contracted with Johnson, single and unaided, for the +execution of a work which in other countries has not been effected but +by the co-operating exertions of many, were Mr. Robert Dodsley, Mr. +Charles Hitch, Mr. Andrew Millar, the two Messieurs Longman, and the two +Messieurs Knapton. The price stipulated was fifteen hundred and +seventy-five pounds. The "Plan" was addressed to Philip Dormer, Earl of +Chesterfield, then one of his majesty's principal secretaries of state, +a nobleman who was very ambitious of literary distinction, and who, upon +being informed of the design, had expressed himself in terms very +favourable to its success. The plan had been put before him in +manuscript For the mechanical part of the work Johnson employed, as he +told me, six amanuenses. + +In the "Gentleman's Magazine" for May, 1748, he-wrote a "Life of +Roscommon," with notes, which he afterwards much improved and inserted +amongst his "Lives of the English Poets." And this same year he formed a +club in Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row, with a view to enjoy literary +discussion. + +In January, 1749, he published "Vanity of Human Wishes, being the Tenth +Satire of Juvenal Imitated"; and on February 6 Garrick brought out his +tragedy at Drury Lane. Dr. Adams was present at the first night of the +representation of "Irene," and gave me the following account. "Before +the curtain drew up, there were catcalls and whistling, which alarmed +Johnson's friends. The prologue, which was 'written by himself in a +manly strain, soothed the audience, and the play went off tolerably till +it came to the conclusion, when Mrs. Pritchard, the heroine of the +piece, was to be strangled on the stage, and was to speak two lines with +the bow-string around her neck. The audience cried out 'Murder! Murder!' +She several times attempted to speak, but in vain. At last she was +obliged to go off the stage alive." This passage was afterwards struck +out, and she was carried off to be put to death behind the scenes, as +the play now has it. + +Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as Garrick, Barry, +Mrs. Pritchard, and every advantage of dress and decoration, the tragedy +of "Irene" did not please the public. Mr. Garrick's zeal carried it +through for nine nights, so that the author had his three nights' +profit; and from a receipt signed by him it appears that his friend Mr. +Robert Dodsley gave him one hundred pounds for the copy, with his usual +reservation of the right of one edition. + +On occasion of his play being brought upon the stage, Johnson had a +fancy that as a dramatic author his dress should be more gay than he +ordinarily wore; he therefore appeared behind the scenes, and even in +one of the side boxes, in a scarlet waistcoat, with rich gold lace and a +gold laced hat. His necessary attendance while his play was in +rehearsal, and during its performance, brought him acquainted with many +of the performers of both sexes, which produced a more favourable +opinion of their profession than he had harshly expressed in his "Life +of Savage." With some of them he kept up an acquaintance as long as he +and they lived, and was ever ready to show them acts of kindness. He for +a considerable time used to visit the green room, and seemed to take +delight in dissipating his gloom by mixing in the sprightly chit-chat of +the motley circle then to be found there. But at last--as Mr. David Hume +related to me from Mr. Garrick--he denied himself this amusement from +considerations of rigid virtue. + + +_V.--"The Rambler" and New Acquaintance_ + + +In 1750 Johnson came forth in the character for which he was eminently +qualified, a majestic teacher of moral and religious wisdom. The vehicle +he chose was that of a periodical paper, which he knew had, upon former +occasions--those of the "Tattler," "Spectator," and "Guardian"--been +employed with great success. + +The first paper of "The Rambler" was published on Tuesday, March 20, +1750, and its author was enabled to continue it without interruption, +every Tuesday and Friday, till Saturday, March 17, 1752, on which day it +closed. During all this time he received assistance on four occasions +only. + +Posterity will be astonished when they are told, upon the authority of +Johnson himself, that many of these discourses, which we should suppose +had been laboured with all the slow attention of literary leisure, were +written in haste as the moments pressed, without even being read over by +him before they were printed. Such was his peculiar promptitude of mind. +He was wont to say, "A man may write at any time if he will set himself +doggedly to it." + +Though Johnson's circumstances were at this time--1751--far from being +easy, his humane and charitable disposition was constantly exerting +itself. Mrs. Anna Williams, daughter of a very ingenious Welsh +physician, and a woman of more than ordinary talents in literature, +having come to London in hopes of being cured of a cataract in both her +eyes, which afterwards ended in total blindness, was kindly received as +a constant visitor at his house while Mrs. Johnson lived; and after her +death, having come under his roof in order to have an operation upon her +eyes performed with more comfort to her than in lodgings, she had an +apartment from him until the rest of her life at all times when he had a +house. + +In 1752 he wrote the last papers of "The Rambler," but he was now mainly +occupied with his "Dictionary." This year, soon after closing his +periodical paper, he suffered a loss which affected him with the deepest +distress. For on March 17 his wife died. That his sufferings upon her +death were severe, beyond what are commonly endured, I have no doubt, +from the information of many who were then about him. + +The circle of Johnson's friends, indeed, at this time was extensive and +various, far beyond what has been generally imagined. To trace his +acquaintance with each particular person were unprofitable. But +exceptions are to be made, one of which must be a friend so eminent as +Sir Joshua Reynolds, with whom he maintained an uninterrupted intimacy +to the last hour of his life. + +When Johnson lived in Castle Street, Cavendish Square, he used +frequently to visit two ladies who lived opposite to him--Miss +Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell. Reynolds used also to visit +there, and thus they met. Mr. Reynolds had, from the first reading of +his "Life of Savage," conceived a very high admiration of Johnson's +powers of writing. His conversation no less delighted him, and he +cultivated his acquaintance with the laudable zeal of one who was +ambitious of general improvement. + +His acquaintance with Bennet Langton, Esq., of Langton, in Lincolnshire, +another much valued friend, commenced soon after the conclusion of the +"Rambler," which that gentleman, then a youth, had read with so much +admiration that he came to London chiefly with the view of endeavouring +to be introduced to its author. By a fortunate chance he happened to +take lodgings in a house where Mr. Levett frequently visited, who +readily obtained Johnson's permission to bring Mr. Langton to him; as +indeed, Johnson, during the whole course of his life, had no shyness, +real or affected, but was easy of access to all who were properly +recommended, and even wished to see numbers at his _levée_, as his +morning circle of company might, with strict propriety, be called, for +he received his friends when he got up from bed, which rarely happened +before noon. + + +_VI.--Lord Chesterfield and the "Dictionary"_ + + +In 1753 and 1754 Johnson relieved the drudgery of his "Dictionary" by +taking an active part in the composition of "The Adventurer," a new +periodical paper which his friends Dr. Hawkesworth and Dr. Bathurst had +commenced. + +Towards the end of the latter year, when the "Dictionary" was on the eve +of publication, Lord Chesterfield, who, ever since the plan of this +great work had been addressed to him, had treated its author with cold +indifference, attempted to conciliate him by writing to papers in "The +World" in recommendation of the undertaking. This courtly device failed +of its effect, and Johnson, indignant that Lord Chesterfield should, for +a moment, imagine that he could be the dupe of such an artifice, wrote +him that famous letter, dated February 7, 1755, which I have already +given to the public. I will quote one paragraph. + +"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 public should consider me as +owing that to a patron which Providence has enabled me to do for +myself." + +Thinking it desirable that the two letters intimating possession of the +master's degree should, for the credit both of Oxford and of Johnson, +appear after his name on the title page of his "Dictionary," his friends +obtained for him from his university this mark of distinction by diploma +dated February 20, 1755; and the "Dictionary" was published on April 15 +in two volumes folio. + +It won him much honour at home and abroad; the Academy of Florence sent +him their "Vocabulario," and the French Academy their "Dictionnaire." +But it had not set him above the necessity of "making provision for the +day that was passing over him," for he had spent during the progress of +the work all the money which it had brought him. + +He was compelled, therefore, to contribute to the monthly periodicals, +and during 1756 he wrote a few essays for "The Universal Visitor," and +superintended and contributed largely to another publication entitled +"The Literary Magazine, or Universal Review." Among the articles he +wrote for the magazine was a review of Mr. Jonas Hanway's "Essay on +Tea," to which the author made an angry answer. Johnson, after a full +and deliberate pause, made a reply to it, the only instance, I believe, +in the whole course of his life, when he condescended to oppose anything +that was written against him. + +His defence of tea was indeed made _con amore_. I suppose no person ever +enjoyed with more relish the infusion of that fragrant leaf than +Johnson. The quantities which he drank of it at all hours were so great +that his nerves must have been uncommonly strong not to have been +extremely relaxed by such an intemperate use of it. + +This year Johnson resumed the scheme, first proposed eleven years +previously, of giving an edition of Shakespeare with notes. He issued +proposals of considerable length, but his indolence prevented him from +pursuing the undertaking, and nine years more elapsed before it saw the +light. + +On April 15, 1758, he began a new periodical paper entitled "The Idler," +which came out every Saturday in a weekly newspaper called "The +Universal Chronicle, or Weekly Gazette." These essays were continued +till April 5, 1760, and of the total of one hundred and three, twelve +were contributed by his friends, including Reynolds, Langton, and Thomas +Warton. "The Idler" has less body and more spirit than "The Rambler," +and has more variety of real life, and greater facility of language. It +was often written as hastily as it predecessor. + +In 1759, in the month of January, Johnson's mother died, at the great +age of ninety, an event which deeply affected him, for his reverential +affection for her was not abated by years. Soon after, he wrote his +"Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia," in order that with the profits he might +defray the expenses of her funeral, and pay some little debts which she +had left. He told Sir Joshua Reynolds that he composed it in the +evenings of one week, and sent it to the press in portions, as it was +written. Mr. Strahan, Mr. Johnston, and Mr. Dodsley purchased it for +£100, but afterwards paid him £25 more when it came to a second edition. +Though Johnson had written nothing else this admirable performance would +have rendered his name immortal in the world of literature. None of his +writings has been so extensively diffused over Europe; for it has been +translated into most, if not all, of the modern languages. Voltaire's +"Candide," written to refute the system of optimism, which it has +accomplished with brilliant success, is wonderfully similar in its plan +and conduct to Johnson's "Rasselas." + +Early in 1762, having been represented to the king as a very learned and +good person, without any certain provision, his majesty was pleased to +grant him a pension of £300 a year. The prime movers in suggesting that +Johnson ought to have a pension were Mr. Thomas Sheridan and Mr. Murphy. +Having, in his "Dictionary," defined _pension_ as "generally understood +to mean pay given to a state hireling for treason to his country," +Johnson at first doubted the propriety of his accepting this mark of the +royal favour. But Sir Joshua having given his opinion that there could +be no objection to his receiving from the king a reward for literary +merit, and Lord Bute having told him expressly, "It is not given you for +anything you are to do, but for what you have done," his scruples about +accepting it were soon removed. + + +_VII.--Boswell's First Meeting with Johnson_ + + +Johnson, who thought slightingly of Sheridan's art, and perhaps resented +that a player should be rewarded in the same manner with him, upon +hearing that a pension of £200 a year had been given to Sheridan, +exclaimed, "What! Have they given _him_ a pension? Then it's time for me +to give up mine." + +A man who disliked Johnson repeated his sarcasm to Mr. Sheridan, who +could never forgive this hasty, contemptuous expression, and ever after +positively declined Johnson's repeated offers of reconciliation. + +It was Mr. Thomas Davies, the actor, turned bookseller, who introduced +me to Johnson. On Monday, May 16, 1763. I was sitting in Mr. Davies's +back parlour at 8 Russell Street, Covent Garden, after having drunk tea +with him and Mrs. Davies, when Johnson unexpectedly came into the shop. +Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully introduced me to him. I +was much agitated at my long-wished-for introduction to the sage, and +recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard +much, I said to Davies, "Don't tell where I come from----" "From +Scotland!" cried Davies roguishly. "Mr. Johnson," said I, "I do, indeed, +come from Scotland, but I cannot help it"--meaning this as light +pleasantry to reconciliate him. But with that quickness of wit for which +he was so remarkable he seized the expression "come from Scotland," and +as if I had said that I had come away from it, or left it, remarked, +"That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot +help." This stroke, and another check which I subsequently received, +stunned me a good deal; but eight days later I boldly repaired to his +chambers on the first floor of No. 1, Inner Temple Lane, and he received +me very courteously. His morning dress was sufficiently uncouth; his +brown suit of clothes looked very rusty. He had on a little, old, +shrivelled, unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head; his +shirt-neck and knees of his breeches were loose; his black worsted +stockings ill-drawn up; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of +slippers. But all these slovenly particularities were forgotten the +moment that he began to talk. + +In February of the following year was founded that club which existed +long without a name, but at Mr. Garrick's funeral became distinguished +by the title of "The Literary Club." Sir Joshua Reynolds had the merit +of being the first proposer of it, to which Johnson acceded, and the +original members were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Edmund +Burke, Dr. Nugent (Mr. Burke's father-in-law), Mr. Beauclerk, Mr. +Langton, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John Hawkins. They met at +the Turk's Head in Gerard Street, Soho, one evening in every week at +seven, and generally continued their conversation till a very late hour. +After about ten years, instead of supping weekly, it was resolved to +dine together once a fortnight during the meeting of parliament, and, +their original tavern having been converted into a private house, they +moved first to Prince's in Sackville Street, then to Le Telier's in +Dover Street, and now meet at Parsloe's, St. James's Street. Between the +time of its formation and the time at which the second edition of this +work is passing through the press (June 1792), its numbers have been +raised to thirty-five, and the following persons have belonged to it: +Mr. Dunning (afterwards Lord Ashburton), Mr. Garrick, Dr. Shepley +(Bishop of St. Asaph), Mr. Thomas Warton, Mr. Joseph Warton, Dr. Adam +Smith, Lord Charlemont, Sir Robert Chambers, Dr. Percy (Bishop of +Dromore), Dr. Barnard (Bishop of Killaloe), Mr. Charles James Fox, Mr. +Gibbon, Mr. R.B. Sheridan, Mr. Colman, Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, Dr. +Burney, and the writer of this account. + +This year Johnson was receiving his "Shakespeare," but he published a +review of Grainger's "Sugar Cane: A Poem" in the "London Chronicle," and +also wrote in "The Critical Review" an account of Goldsmith's excellent +poem, "The Traveller." In July 1765, Trinity College, Dublin, surprised +him with a spontaneous compliment of the highest academical honours, by +creating him Doctor of Laws, and in October he at length gave to the +world his edition of Shakespeare. This year was also distinguished by +his being introduced into the family of Mr. Thrale, an eminent brewer, +who was member for Southwark. The Thrales were so much pleased with him +that his invitations to their house were more and more frequent, till at +last he became one of the family, and an apartment was appropriated to +him, both in their house in Southwark and at Streatham. + + +_VIII.--Tours in the Hebrides and in Wales_ + + +His friend, the Rev. Dr. Maxwell, speaks as follows on Johnson's general +mode of life: "About twelve o'clock I commonly visited him, and +frequently found him in bed, or declaiming over his tea, which he drank +very plentifully. He generally had a _levée_ of morning visitors, +chiefly men of letters--Hawkesworth, Goldsmith, Murphy, Langton, +Stevens, Beauclerk, etc., etc., and sometimes learned ladies, +particularly I remember a French lady of wit and fashion doing him the +honour of a visit. He seemed to me to be considered as a kind of public +oracle, whom everybody thought they had a right to visit and to consult; +and doubtless they were well rewarded. I never could discover how he +found time for his compositions. He declaimed all the morning, then went +to dinner at a tavern, where he commonly stayed late, and then drank his +tea at some friend's house, over which he loitered a great while, but +seldom took supper. I fancy he must have read and wrote chiefly in the +night, for I can scarcely recollect that he ever refused going with me +to a tavern, and he often went to Ranelagh, which he deemed a place of +innocent recreation." + +In 1773 Johnson's only publication was an edition of his folio +"Dictionary," with additions and corrections, and the preface to his old +amanuensis, Machean's "Dictionary of Ancient Geography." His +"Shakespeare," indeed, was republished this year by George Stevens, +Esq., a gentleman of acute discernment and elegant taste. + +On April 23, 1773, I was nominated by Johnson for membership of the +Literary Club, and a week later I was elected to the society. There I +saw for the first time Mr. Edmund Burke, whose splendid talents had made +me ardently wish for his acquaintance. + +This same year Johnson made, in my company, his visit to Scotland, which +lasted from August 14, on which day he arrived, till November 22, when +he set out on his return to London; and I believe one hundred days were +never passed by any men in a more vigorous exertion. His various +adventures, and the force and vivacity of his mind, as exercised during +this peregrination, upon innumerable topics, have been faithfully, and +to the best of my ability, displayed in my "Journal of a Tour to the +Hebrides." + +On his return to London his humane, forgiving dispositions were put to a +pretty strong test by a liberty which Mr. Thomas Davies had taken, which +was to publish two volumes, entitled "Miscellaneous and Fugitive +Pieces," which he advertised in the newspapers, "By the Author of the +Rambler." In some of these Johnson had no concern whatever. He was at +first very angry, but, upon consideration of his poor friend's narrow +circumstances, and that he meant no harm, he soon relented. + +Dr. Goldsmith died on April 4 of the following year, a year in which I +was unable to pay my usual spring visit to London, and in which Johnson +made a long autumn tour in Wales with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. In response +to some inquiries of mine about poor Goldsmith, he wrote: "Of poor, dear +Goldsmith there is little to be told more than the papers have made +public. He died of a fever, made, I am afraid, more violent by +uneasiness of mind. His debts began to be heavy, and all his resources +were exhausted. Sir Joshua is of the opinion that he owed not less than +£2,000. Was ever poet so trusted before?" + +This year, too, my great friend again came out as a politician, for +parliament having been dissolved in September, and Mr. Thrale, who was a +steady supporter of government, having again to encounter the storm of a +contested election in Southwark, Johnson published a short political +pamphlet, entitled "The Patriot," addressed to the electors of Great +Britain. It was written with energetic vivacity; and except those +passages in which it endeavours to vindicate the glaring outrage of the +House of Commons in the case of the Middlesex election and to justify +the attempt to reduce our fellow-subjects in America to unconditional +submission, it contained an admirable display of the properties of a +real patriot, in the original and genuine sense. + + +_IX.--Johnson's Physical Courage and Fear of Death_ + + +The "Rambler's" own account of our tour in the Hebrides was published in +1775 under the title of "A journey to the Western Islands of Scotland," +and soon involved its author, who had expressed his disbelief in the +authenticity of Ossian's poems, in a controversy with Mr. Macpherson. +Johnson called for the production of the old manuscripts from which Mr. +Macpherson said that he had copied the poems. He wrote to me: "I am +surprised that, knowing as you do the disposition of your countrymen to +tell lies in favour of each other, you can be at all affected by any +reports that circulate among them." And when Mr. Macpherson, exasperated +by this scepticism, replied in words that are generally said to have +been of a nature very different from the language of literary contest, +Johnson answered him in a letter that opened: "I received your foolish +and impudent letter. Any violence offered me I shall do my best to +repel, and what I cannot do for myself the law shall do for me. I hope I +shall never be deterred from detecting what I think a cheat by the +menaces of a ruffian." + +Mr. Macpherson knew little the character of Dr. Johnson if he supposed +that he could be easily intimidated, for no man was ever more remarkable +for personal courage. He had, indeed, an awful dread of death, or, +rather, "of something after death"; and he once said to me, "The fear of +death is so much natural to man that the whole of life is but keeping +away the thoughts of it," and confessed that "he had never had a moment +in which death was not terrible to him." But his fear was from +reflection, his courage natural. Many instances of his resolution may be +mentioned. One day, at Mr. Beauclerk's house in the country, when two +large dogs were fighting, he went up to them and beat them till they +separated. + +At another time, when Foote threatened to _take him off_ on the stage, +he sent out for an extra large oak stick; and this mere threat, repeated +by Davies to Foote, effectually checked the wantonness of the mimic. On +yet another occasion, in the playhouse at Lichfield, as Mr. Garrick +informed me, Johnson having for a moment quitted a chair which was +placed for him between the side scenes, a gentleman took possession of +it, and when Johnson on his return civilly demanded his seat, rudely +refused to give it up; upon which Johnson laid hold of it, and tossed +him and the chair into the pit. + +My revered friend had long before indulged most unfavourable sentiments +of our fellow-subjects in America. As early as 1769 he had said to them: +"Sir, they are a race of convicts, and ought to be grateful for anything +we allow them short of hanging." He had recently published, at the +desire of those in power, a pamphlet entitled "Taxation no Tyranny; an +Answer to the Resolutions and Address of the American Congress." Of this +performance I avoided to talk with him, having formed a clear and +settled opinion against the doctrine of its title. + +In the autumn Dr. Johnson went to Ashbourne to France with Mr. and Mrs. +Thrale and Mr. Baretti, which lasted about two months. But he did not +get into any higher acquaintance; and Foote, who was at Paris at the +time with him, used to give a description of my friend while there and +of French astonishment at his figure, manner, and dress, which was +abundantly ludicrous. He was now a Doctor of Laws of Oxford, his +university having conferred that degree on him by diploma in the spring. + + +_X.--Johnson's "Seraglio"_ + + +A circumstance which could not fail to be very pleasing to Johnson +occurred in 1777. The tragedy of "Sir Thomas Overbury," written by his +early companion in London, Richard Savage, was brought out, with +alterations, at Covent Garden Theatre, on February 1; and the prologue +to it, written by Mr. Richard Brinsley Sheridan, introduced an elegant +compliment to Johnson on his "Dictionary." Johnson was pleased with +young Mr. Sheridan's liberality of sentiment, and willing to show that +though estranged from the father he could acknowledge the brilliant +merit of the son, he proposed him, and secured his election, as a member +of the Literary Club, observing that "he who has written the two best +comedies of his age ["The Rivals" and "The Duenna"] is surely a +considerable man." + +In the autumn Dr. Johnson went to Ashbourne to stop with his friend, the +Rev. Dr. Taylor, and I joined him there. I was somewhat disappointed in +finding that the edition of the "English Poets" for which he was to +write prefaces and lives was not an undertaking directed by him, but +that he was to furnish a preface and life to any poet the booksellers +pleased. I asked him if he would do this to any dunce's works if they +should ask him. Johnson: "Yes, sir, and _say_ he was a dunce." My friend +seemed now not much to relish talking of this edition; it had been +arranged by the forty chief booksellers of London, and Johnson had named +his own terms for the "Lives," namely, two hundred guineas. + +During this visit he put into my hands the whole series of his writings +in behalf of the Rev. Dr. William Dodd, who, having been +chaplain-in-ordinary to his majesty, and celebrated as a very popular +preacher, was this year convicted and executed for forging a bond on his +former pupil, the young Earl of Chesterfield. Johnson certainly made +extraordinary exertions to save Dodd. He wrote several petitions and +letters on the subject, and composed for the unhappy man not only his +"Speech to the Recorder of London," at the Old Bailey, when sentence of +death was about to be pronounced upon him, and "The Convict's Address to +his Unhappy Brethren," a sermon delivered by Dr. Dodd in the chapel of +Newgate, but also "Dr. Dodd's Last Solemn Declaration," which he left +with the sheriff at the place of execution. + +In 1778, I arrived in London on March 18, and next day met Dr. Johnson +at his old friend's, in Dean's Yard, for Dr. Taylor was a prebendary of +Westminster. On Friday, March 2d, I found him at his own house, sitting +with Mrs. Williams, and was informed that the room allotted to me three +years previously was now appropriated to a charitable purpose, Mrs. +Desmoulins, daughter of Johnson's godfather Dr. Swinfen, and, I think, +her daughter, and a Miss Carmichael, being all lodged in it. Such was +his humanity, and such his generosity, that Mrs. Desmoulins herself told +me he allowed her half-a-guinea a week. + +Unfortunately his "Seraglio," as he sometimes suffered me to call his +group of females, were perpetually jarring with one another. He thus +mentions them, together with honest Levett, in one of his letters to +Mrs. Thrale: "Williams hates everybody; Levett hates Desmoulins, and +does not love Williams--Desmoulins hates them both; Poll (Miss +Carmichael) loves none of them." + +On January 20, 1779, Johnson lost his old friend Garrick, and this same +year he gave the world a luminous proof that the vigour of his mind in +all its faculties, whether memory, judgement, and imagination, was not +in the least abated, by publishing the first four volumes of his +"Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, to the Most Eminent of the English +Poets." The remaining volumes came out in 1781. + +In 1780 the world was kept in impatience for the completion of his +"Lives of the Poets," upon which he was employed so far as his indolence +allowed him to labour. + +This year--on March 11--Johnson lost another old friend in Mr. Topham +Beauclerk, of whom he said: "No man ever was so free when he was going +to say a good thing, from a _look_ that expressed that it was coming; +or, when he had said it, from a look that expressed that it had come." + + +_XI.--Johnson's Humanity to Children, Servants, and the Poor_ + + +I was disappointed in my hopes of seeing Johnson in 1780, but I was able +to come to London in the spring of 1781, and on Tuesday, March 20, I met +him in Fleet Street, walking, or, rather, indeed, moving along--for his +peculiar march is thus correctly described in a short life of him +published very soon after his death: "When he walked the streets, what +with the constant roll of his head, and the concomitant motion of his +body, he appeared to make his way by that motion, independent of his +feet." That he was often much stared at while he advanced in this manner +may easily be believed, but it was not safe to make sport of one so +robust as he was. + +I waited on him next evening, and he gave me a great portion of his +original manuscript of his "Lives of the Poets," which he had preserved +for me. + +I found on visiting his friend, Mr. Thrale, that he was now very ill, +and had removed--I suppose by the solicitation of Mrs. Thrale--to a +house in Grosvenor Square. I was sorry to see him sadly changed in his +appearance. He died shortly after. + +He told me I might now have the pleasure to see Dr. Johnson drink wine +again, for he had lately returned to it. When I mentioned this to +Johnson, he said: "I drink it now sometimes, but not socially." The +first evening that I was with him at Thrale's, I observed he poured a +large quantity of it into a glass, and swallowed it greedily. Everything +about his character and manners was forcible and violent; there never +was any moderation; many a day did he fast, many a year did he refrain +from wine; but when he did eat, it was voraciously; when he did drink +wine, it was copiously. He could practice abstinence, but not +temperance. + +"I am not a severe man," Johnson once said; "as I know more of mankind I +expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man _a good man_ upon +easier terms than I was formerly." + +This kind indulgence--extended towards myself when overcome by wine--had +once or twice a pretty difficult trial, but on my making an apology, I +always found Johnson behave to me with the most friendly gentleness. In +fact, Johnson was not severe, but he was pugnacious, and this pugnacity +and roughness he displayed most conspicuously in conversation. He could +not brook appearing to be worsted in argument, even when, to show the +force and dexterity of his talents, he had taken the wrong side. When, +therefore, he perceived that his opponent gained ground, he had recourse +to some sudden mode of robust sophistry. Once when I was pressing upon +him with visible advantage, he stopped me thus: "My dear Boswell, let's +have no more of this. You'll make nothing of it. I'd rather have you +whistle a Scotch tune." + +Goldsmith used to say, in the witty words of one of Cibber's comedies, +"There is no arguing with Johnson, for when his pistol misses fire, he +knocks you down with the butt end of it." + +In 1782 his complaints increased, and the history of his life this year +is little more than a mournful recital of the variations of his illness. +In one of his letters to Mr. Hector he says, indeed, "My health has +been, from my twentieth year, such as has seldom afforded me a single +day of ease." At a time, then, when he was less able than he had once +been to sustain a shock, he was suddenly deprived of Mr. Levett, who +died on January 17. But, although his health was tottering, the powers +of his mind were in no ways impaired, as his letters and conversation +showed. Moreover, during the last three or four years of his life he may +be said to have mellowed. + +His love of little children, which he discovered upon all occasions, +calling them "pretty dears," and giving them sweetmeats, was an +undoubted proof of the real humanity and gentleness of his disposition. +His uncommon kindness to his servants, and serious concern, not only for +their comfort in this world, but their happiness in the next, was +another unquestionable evidence of what all who were intimately +acquainted with him knew to be true. Nor would it be just, under this +head, to omit the fondness that he showed for animals which he had taken +under his protection. I never shall forget the indulgence with which he +treated Hodge, his cat, for whom he himself used to go out and buy +oysters, lest the servants, having that trouble, should take a dislike +to the poor creature. + + +_XII.--The Last Year_ + + +In April, 1783, Johnson had a paralytic stroke, which deprived him, for +a time, of the powers of speech. But he recovered so quickly that in +July he was able to make a visit to Mr. Langton, at Rochester, where he +passed about a fortnight, and made little excursions as easily as at any +time of his life. In August he went as far as the neighbourhood of +Salisbury, to Heale, the seat of William Bowles, Esq.; and it was while +he was here that he had a letter from his physician, Dr. Brocklesby, +acquainting him of the death of Mrs. Williams, which affected him a good +deal. + +In the end of 1783, in addition to his gout and his catarrhous cough, he +was seized with a spasmodic asthma of such violence that he was confined +to the house in great pain, being sometimes obliged to sit all night in +his chair, a recumbent posture being so hurtful to his respiration that +he could not endure lying in bed; and there came upon him at the same +time that oppressive and fatal disease of dropsy. His cough he used to +cure by taking laudanum and syrup of poppies, and he was a great +believer in the advantages of being bled. But this year the very severe +winter aggravated his complaints, and the asthma confined him to the +house for more than three months; though he got almost complete relief +from the dropsy by natural evacuation in February. + +On Wednesday, May 5, 1784--the last year of Dr. Johnson's life--I +arrived in London for my spring visit; and next morning I had the +pleasure to find him greatly recovered. But I was in his company +frequently and particularly remember the fine spirits he was in one +evening at our Essex Head Club. He praised Mr. Burke's constant stream +of conversation, saying, "Yes, sir; if a man were to go by chance at the +same time with Burke under a shed, to shun a shower, he would say, 'This +is an extraordinary man.'" + +He had now a great desire to go to Oxford, as his first jaunt after his +illness; we talked of it for some days, and on June 3 the Oxford +post-coach took us up at Bolt Court, and we spent an agreeable fortnight +with Dr. Adams at Pembroke College. + +The anxiety of his friends to preserve so estimable a life made them +plan for him a retreat from the severity of a British winter to the mild +climate of Italy; and, after consulting with Sir Joshua Reynolds, I +wrote to Lord Thurlow, the Lord Chancellor, for such an addition to +Johnson's income as would enable him to bear the expense. + +Lord Thurlow, who highly valued Johnson, and whom Johnson highly valued, +at first made a very favourable reply, which being communicated to Dr. +Johnson, greatly affected him; but eventually he had to confess that his +application had been unsuccessful, and made a counter proposal, very +gratefully refused by Johnson, that he should draw upon him to the +amount of £500 or £600. + +On Wednesday, June 30, I dined with him, for the last time, at Sir +Joshua Reynolds's, no other company being present; and on July 2 I left +London for Scotland. + +Soon afterwards he had the mortification of being informed by Mrs. +Thrale that she was actually going to marry Signor Piozzi, a papist, and +her daughter's music-master. He endeavoured to prevent the marriage, but +in vain. + +Eleven days after I myself had left town, Johnson set out on a jaunt to +Staffordshire and Derbyshire, flattering himself that he might be, in +some degree, relieved; but towards the end of October he had to confess +that his progress was slight. But there was in him an animated and lofty +spirit, and such was his love of London that he languished when absent +from it. To Dr. Brocklesby he wrote: "I am not afraid either of a +journey to London, or of a residence in it. The town is my element; +there are my friends, there are my books, to which I have not yet bid +farewell, and there are my amusements. Sir Joshua told me long ago that +my vocation was to public life, and I hope still to keep my station, +till God shall bid me 'Go in peace.'" + +He arrived in London on November 16. Soon after his return both the +asthma and the dropsy became more violent and distressful, and though he +was attended by Dr. Heberden, Dr. Brocklesby, Dr. Warren, and Dr. +Butter, who all refused fees, and though he himself co-operated with +them, and made deep incisions in his body to draw off the water from it, +he gradually sank. On December 2, he sent directions for inscribing +epitaphs for his father, mother, and brother on a memorial slab in St. +Michael's Church, Lichfield. On December 8 and 9 he made his will; and +on Monday, December 13, he expired about seven o'clock in the evening, +with so little apparent pain that his attendants hardly perceived when +his dissolution took place. A week later he was buried in Westminster +Abbey, his old schoolfellow, Dr. Taylor, reading the service. + +I trust I shall not be accused of affectation when I declare that I find +myself unable to express all that I felt upon the loss of such a "Guide, +Philosopher, and Friend." I shall, therefore, not say one word of my +own, but adopt those of an eminent friend, which he uttered with an +abrupt felicity: "He has made a chasm, which not only nothing can fill +up, but which nothing has a tendency to fill up. Johnson is dead. Let us +go to the next best: there is nobody; no man can be said to put you in +mind of Johnson." + + * * * * * + + + + +SIR DAVID BREWSTER + + +Life of Sir Isaac Newton + + + Sir David Brewster, a distinguished physicist, was born at + Jedburgh, on December 11, 1781. He was educated at Edinburgh + University, and was licensed as a clergyman of the Church of + Scotland by the Presbytery of Edinburgh. Nervousness in the + pulpit compelled him to retire from clerical life and devote + himself to scientific work, and in 1808 he became editor of + the "Edinburgh Encyclopaedia." His chief scientific interest + was optics, and he invented the kaleidoscope, and improved + Wheatstone's stereoscope by introducing the divided lenses. In + 1815 he was elected a member of the Royal Society, and, later, + was awarded the Rumford gold and silver medals for his + discoveries in the polarisation of light. In 1831 he was + knighted. From 1859 he held the office of Principal of + Edinburgh University until his death on February 10, 1868. The + "Life of Sir Isaac Newton" appeared in 1831, when it was first + published in Murray's "Family Library." Although popularly + written, not only does it embody the results of years of + investigation, but it throws a unique light on the life of the + celebrated scientist. Brewster supplemented it in 1855 with + the much fuller "Memoirs of the Life, Writings, and + Discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton." + + +_I.--The Young Scientist_ + + +Sir Isaac Newton was born at the hamlet of Woolsthorpe on December 25, +1642. His father, a yeoman farmer, died a few months after his marriage, +and never saw his son. + +When Isaac was three years old his mother married again, and he was +given over to the charge of his maternal grandmother. While still a boy +at school, his mechanical genius began to show itself, and he +constructed various mechanisms, including a windmill, a water-clock, and +a carriage put in motion by the person who sat in it. He was also fond +of drawing, and wrote verses. Even at this age he began to take an +interest in astronomy. In the yard of the house where he lived he traced +the varying movements of the sun upon the walls of the buildings, and by +means of fixed pins he marked out the hourly and half-hourly +subdivisions. + +At the age of fifteen his mother took him from school, and sent him to +manage the farm and country business at Woolsthorpe, but farming and +marketing did not interest him, and he showed such a passion for study +that eventually he was sent back to school to prepare for Cambridge. + +In the year 1660 Newton was admitted into Trinity College, Cambridge. +His attention was first turned to the study of mathematics by a desire +to inquire into the truth of judicial astrology, and he is said to have +discovered the folly of that study by erecting a figure with the aid of +one or two of the problems in Euclid. The propositions contained in +Euclid he regarded as self-evident; and, without any preliminary study, +he made himself master of Descartes' "Geometry" by his genius and +patient application. Dr. Wallis's "Arithmetic of Infinites," Sanderson's +"Logic," and the "Optics" of Kepler, were among the books which he +studied with care; and he is reported to have found himself more deeply +versed in some branches of knowledge than the tutor who directed his +studies. + +In 1665 Newton took his Bachelor of Arts degree, and in 1666, in +consequence of the breaking out of the plague, he retired to +Woolsthorpe. In 1668 he took his Master of Arts degree, and was +appointed to a senior fellowship. And in 1669 he was made Lucasian +professor of mathematics. + +During the years 1666-69, Newton was engaged in optical researches which +culminated in his invention of the first reflecting telescope. On +January 11, 1761, it was announced to the Royal Society that his +reflecting telescope had been shown to the king, and had been examined +by the president, Sir Robert Murray, Sir Paul Neale, and Sit Christopher +Wren. + +In the course of his optical researches, Newton discovered the different +refrangibility of different rays of light, and in his professorial +lectures during the years 1669, 1670, and 1671 he announced his +discoveries; but not till 1672 did he communicate them to the Royal +Society. No sooner were these discoveries given to the world than they +were opposed with a degree of virulence and ignorance which have seldom +been combined in scientific controversy. The most distinguished of his +opponents were Robert Hooke and Huyghens. Both attacked his theory from +the standpoint of the undulatory theory of light which they upheld. + + +_II.--The Colours of Natural Bodies_ + + +In examining the nature and origin of colours as the component parts of +white light, the attention of Newton was directed to the explanation of +the colours of natural bodies. His earliest researches on this subject +were communicated, in his "Discourse on Light and Colours," to the Royal +Society in 1675. + +Dr. Hooke had succeeded in splitting a mineral substance called mica +into films of such extreme thinness as to give brilliant colours. One +plate, for example, gave a yellow colour, another a blue colour, and the +two together a deep purple, but as plates which produced this colour +were always less than the twelve-thousandth part of an inch thick it was +quite impracticable, by any contrivance yet discovered, to measure their +thickness, and determine the law according to which the colours varied +with the thickness of the film. Newton surmounted this difficulty by +laying a double convex lens, the radius of the curvature of each side of +which was fifty feet, upon the flat surface of a plano-convex +object-glass, and in the way he obtained a plate of air, or of space, +varying from the thinnest possible edge at the centre of the +object-glass where it touched the plane surface to a considerable +thickness at the circumference of the lens. When the light was allowed +to fall upon the object-glass, every different thickness of the plate of +air between the object-glasses gave different colours, so that the point +where the two object-glasses touched one another was the centre of a +number of concentric coloured rings. Now, as the curvature of the +object-glass was known, it was easy to calculate the thickness of the +plate of air at which any particular colour appeared, and thus to +determine the law of the phenomena. + +By accurate measurements Newton found that the thickness of air at which +the most luminous parts of the first rings were produced were, in parts +of an inch, as 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, and 11 to 178,000. + +If the medium or the substance of the thin plate is water, as in the +case of the soap-bubble, which produces beautiful colours according to +its different degrees of thinness, the thicknesses at which the most +luminous parts of the ring appear are produced at 1/1.336 the thickness +at which they are produced in air, and, in the case of glass or mica, at +1/1.525 at thickness, the numbers 1.336, 1.525 expressing the ratio of +the sines of the angles of incidence and refraction which produce the +colours. + +From the phenomena thus briefly described, Newton deduced that +ingenious, though hypothetical, property of light called its "fits of +easy reflection and transmission." This property consists in supposing +that every particle of light from its first discharge from a luminous +body possesses, at equally distant intervals, dispositions to be +reflected from, and transmitted through, the surfaces of the bodies upon +which it is incident. Hence, if a particle of light reaches a reflecting +surface of glass _when in its fit of easy reflection_, or in its +disposition to be reflected, it will yield more readily to the +reflecting force of the surface; and, on the contrary, if it reaches the +same surface _while in a fit of easy transmission_, or in a disposition +to be transmitted, it will yield with more difficulty to the reflecting +force. + +The application of the theory of alternate fits of transmission and +reflection to explain the colours of thin plates is very simple. + +Transparency, opacity and colour were explained by Newton on the +following principles. + +Bodies that have the greatest refractive powers reflect the greatest +quantity of light from their surfaces, and at the confines of equally +refracting media there is no reflection. + +The least parts of almost all natural bodies are in some measure +transparent. + +Between the parts of opaque and coloured bodies are many spaces, or +pores, either empty or filled with media of other densities. + +The parts of bodies and their interstices or pores must not be less than +of some definite bigness to render them coloured. + +The transparent parts of bodies, according to their several sizes, +reflect rays of one colour, and transmit those of another on the same +ground that thin plates do reflect or transmit these rays. + +The parts of bodies on which their colour depend are denser than the +medium which pervades their interstices. + +The bigness of the component parts of natural bodies may be conjectured +by their colours. + +_Transparency_ he considers as arising from the particles and their +intervals, or pores, being too small to cause reflection at their common +surfaces; so that all light which enters transparent bodies passes +through them without any portion of it being turned from its path by +reflexion. + +_Opacity_, he thinks, arises from an opposite cause, _viz._, when the +parts of bodies are of such a size to be capable of reflecting the light +which falls upon them, in which case the light is "stopped or stifled" +by the multitude of reflections. + +The _colours_ of natural bodies have, in the Newtonian hypothesis, the +same origin as the colours of thin plates, their transparent particles, +according to their several sizes, reflecting rays of one colour and +transmitting those of another. + +Among the optical discoveries of Newton those which he made on the +inflection of light hold a high place. They were first published in his +"Treatise on Optics," in 1707. + + +_III--The Discovery of the Law of Gravitation_ + + +From the optical labours of Newton we now proceed to the history of his +astronomical discoveries, those transcendent deductions of human reason +by which he has secured to himself an immortal name, and vindicated the +intellectual dignity of his species. + +In the year 1666, Newton was sitting in his garden at Woolsthorpe, +reflecting on the nature of gravity, that remarkable power which causes +all bodies to descend towards the centre of the earth. As this power +does not sensibly diminish at the greatest height we can reach he +conceived it possible that it might reach to the moon and affect its +motion, and even hold it in its orbit. At such a distance, however, he +considered some diminution of the force probable, and in order to +estimate the diminution, he supposed that the primary planets were +carried round the sun by the same force. On this assumption, by +comparing the periods of the different planets with their distances from +the sun, he found that the force must decrease as the squares of the +distances from the sun. In drawing this conclusion he supposed the +planets to move in circular orbits round the sun. + +Having thus obtained a law, he next tried to ascertain if it applied to +the moon and the earth, to determine if the force emanating from the +earth was sufficient, if diminished in the duplicate ratio of the moon's +distance, to retain the moon in its orbit. For this purpose it was +necessary to compare the space through which heavy bodies fall in a +second at the surface of the earth with the space through which the +moon, as it were, falls to the earth in a second of time, while +revolving in a circular orbit. Owing to an erroneous estimate of the +earth's diameter, he found the facts not quite in accordance with the +supposed law; he found that the force which on this assumption would act +upon the moon would be one-sixth more than required to retain it in its +orbit. + +Because of this incongruity he let the matter drop for a time. But, in +1679, his mind again reverted to the subject; and in 1682, having +obtained a correct measurement of the diameter of the earth, he repeated +his calculations of 1666. In the progress of his calculations he saw +that the result which he had formerly expected was likely to be +produced, and he was thrown into such a state of nervous irritability +that he was unable to carry on the calculation. In this state of mind he +entrusted it to one of his friends, and he had the high satisfaction of +finding his former views amply realised. The force of gravity which +regulated the fall of bodies at the earth's surface, when diminished as +the square of the moon's distance from the earth, was found to be +exactly equal to the centrifugal force of the moon as deduced from her +observed distance and velocity. + +The influence of such a result upon such a mind may be more easily +conceived than described. The whole material universe was opened out +before him; the sun with all his attending planets; the planets with all +their satellites; the comets wheeling in every direction in their +eccentric orbits; and the system of the fixed stars stretching to the +remotest limits of space. All the varied and complicated movements of +the heavens, in short, must have been at once presented to his mind as +the necessary result of that law which he had established in reference +to the earth and the moon. + +After extending this law to the other bodies of the system, he composed +a series of propositions on the motion of the primary planets about the +sun, which was sent to London about the end of 1683, and was soon +afterwards communicated to the Royal Society. + +Newton's discovery was claimed by Hooke, who certainly aided Newton to +reach the truth, and was certainly also on the track of the same law. + +Between 1686 and 1687 appeared the three books of Newton's immortal +work, known as the "Principia." The first and second book are entitled +"On the Motion of Bodies," and the third "On the System of the World." + +In this great work Newton propounds the principle that "every particle +of matter in the universe is attracted by, or gravitates to, every other +particle of matter with a force inversely proportional to the squares of +their distances." From the second law of Kepler, namely, the +proportionality of the areas to the times of their description, Newton +inferred that the force which keeps a planet in its orbit is always +directed to the sun. From the first law of Kepler, that every planet +moves in an ellipse with the sun in one of its foci, he drew the still +more general inference that the force by which the planet moves round +that focus varies inversely as the square of its distance from the +focus. From the third law of Kepler, which connects the distances and +periods of the planets by a general rule, Newton deduced the equality of +gravity in them all towards the sun, modified only by their different +distances from its centre; and in the case of terrestrial bodies, he +succeeded in verifying the equality of action by numerous and accurate +experiments. + +By taking a more general view of the subject, Newton showed that a conic +section was the only curve in which a body could move when acted upon by +a force varying inversely as the square of the distance; and he +established the conditions depending on the velocity and the primitive +position of the body which were requisite to make it describe a +circular, an elliptical, a parabolic, or a hyperbolic orbit. + +It still remained to show whether the force resided in the centre of +planets or in their individual particles; and Newton demonstrated that +if a spherical body acts upon a distant body with a force varying as the +distance of this body from the centre of the sphere, the same effect +will be produced as if each of its particles acted upon the distant body +according to the same law. + +Hence it follows that the spheres, whether they are of uniform density, +or consist of concentric layers of varying densities, will act upon each +other in the same manner as if their force resided in their centres +alone. But as the bodies of the solar system are nearly spherical, they +will all act upon one another and upon bodies placed on their surface, +as if they were so many centres of attraction; and therefore we obtain +the law of gravity, that one sphere will act upon another sphere with a +force directly proportional to the quantity of matter, and inversely as +the square of the distance between the centres of the spheres. From the +equality of action and reaction, to which no exception can be found, +Newton concluded that the sun gravitates to the planets and the planets +to their satellites, and the earth itself to the stone which falls upon +its surface, and consequently that the two mutually gravitating bodies +approach one another with velocities inversely proportional to their +quantities of matter. + +Having established this universal law, Newton was able not only to +determine the weight which the same body would have at the surface of +the sun and the planets, but even to calculate the quantity of matter in +the sun and in all the planets that had satellites, and also to +determine their density or specific gravity. + +With wonderful sagacity Newton traced the consequences of the law of +gravitation. He showed that the earth must be an oblate spheroid, formed +by the revolution of an ellipse round its lesser axis. He showed how the +tides were caused by the moon, and how the effect of the moon's action +upon the earth is to draw its fluid parts into the form of an oblate +spheroid, the axis of which passes through the moon. He also applied the +law of gravitation to explain irregularities in the lunar motions, the +precession of the equinoctial points, and the orbits of comets. + +In the "Principia" Newton published for the first time the fundamental +principle of the fluxionary calculus which he had discovered about +twenty years before; but not till 1693 was his whole work communicated +to the mathematical world. This delay in publication led to the +historical controversy between him and Leibnitz as to priority of +discovery. + +In 1676 Newton had communicated to Leibnitz the fact that he had +discovered a general method of drawing tangents, concealing the method +in two sentences of transposed characters. In the following year +Leibnitz mentioned in a letter to Oldenburg (to be communicated to +Newton) that he had been for some time in possession of a method for +drawing tangents, and explains the method, which was no other than the +differential calculus. Before Newton had published a single word upon +fluxions the differential calculus had made rapid advances on the +Continent. + +In 1704 a reviewer of Newton's "Optics" insinuated that Newton had +merely improved the method of Leibnitz, and had indeed stolen Leibnitz's +discovery; and this started a controversy which raged for years. +Finally, in 1713, a committee of the Royal Society investigated the +matter, and decided that Newton was the first inventor. + + +_IV.--Later Years of Newton's Life_ + + +In 1692, when Newton was attending divine service, his dog Diamond upset +a lighted taper on his desk and destroyed some papers representing the +work of years. Newton is reported merely to have exclaimed: "O Diamond, +Diamond, little do you know the mischief you have done me!" But, +nevertheless, his excessive grief is said for a time to have affected +his mind. + +In 1695 Newton was appointed Warden of the Mint, and his mathematical +and chemical knowledge were of eminent use in carrying on the recoinage +of the mint. Four years later he was made Master of the Mint, and held +this office during the remainder of his life. In 1701 he was elected one +of the members of parliament for Oxford University, and in 1705 he was +knighted. + +Towards the end of his life Newton began to devote special attention to +the theological questions, and in 1733 he published a work entitled +"Observations upon the Prophecies of Daniel and the Apocalypse of St. +John," which is characterised by great learning and marked with the +sagacity of its distinguished author. Besides this religious work, he +also published his "Historical Account of Two Notable Corruptions of +Scripture," and his "Lexicon Propheticum." + +In addition to theology, Newton also studied chemistry; and in 1701 a +paper by him, entitled "Scala graduum caloris," was read at the Royal +Society; while the queries at the end of his "Optics" are largely +chemical, dealing with such subjects as fire, flame, vapour, heat, and +elective attractions. + +He regards fire as a body heated so hot as to emit light copiously; and +flame as a vapour, fume, or exhalation, heated so hot as to shine. + +In explaining the structure of solid bodies, he is of the opinion "that +the smallest particles of matter may cohere by the strongest +attractions, and compose bigger particles of weaker virtue; and many of +these may cohere and compose bigger particles whose virtue is still +weaker; and so on for diverse successions, until the progression end in +the biggest particles on which the operations in chemistry and the +colours of natural bodies depend, and which, by adhering, compose bodies +of a sensible magnitude. If the body is compact, and bends or yields +inward to pressure without any sliding of its parts, it is hard and +elastic, returning to its figure with a force arising from the mutual +attraction of its parts. + +"If the parts slide upon one another the body is malleable and soft. If +they slip easily, and are of a fit size to be agitated by heat, and the +heat is big enough to keep them in agitation, the body is fluid; and if +it be apt to stick to things it is humid; and the drops of every fluid +affect a round figure by the mutual attraction of their parts, as the +globe of the earth and sea affects a round figure by the mutual +attraction of its parts by gravity." + +In a letter to Mr. Boyle (1678-79) Newton explains his views respecting +the ether. He considers that the ether accounts for the refraction of +light, the cohesion of two polished pieces of metal in an exhausted +receiver, the adhesion of quick-silver to glass tubes, the cohesion of +the parts of all bodies, the phenomena of filtration and of capillary +attraction, the action of menstrua on bodies, the transmutation of gross +compact substances into aerial ones, and gravity. If a body is either +heated or loses its heat when placed in vacuo, he ascribes the +conveyance of the heat in both cases "to the vibration of a much subtler +medium than air"; and he considers this medium also the medium by which +light is refracted and reflected, and by whose vibrations light +communicates heat to bodies and is put into fits of easy reflection and +transmission. Light, Newton regards as a peculiar substance composed of +heterogeneous particles thrown off with great velocity in all directions +from luminous bodies, and he supposes that these particles while passing +through the ether excite in it vibrations, or pulses, which accelerate +or retard the particles of light, and thus throw them into alternate +"fits of easy reflection and transmission." He computes the elasticity +of the ether to be 490,000,000,000 times greater than air in proportion +to its density. + +In 1722, in his eightieth year, Newton began to suffer from stone; but +by means of a strict regimen and other precautions he was enabled to +alleviate the complaint, and to procure long intervals of ease. But a +journey to London on February 28, 1727, to preside at a meeting of the +Royal Society greatly aggravated the complaint. On Wednesday, March 15, +he appeared to be somewhat better. On Saturday morning he carried on a +pretty long conversation with Dr. Mead; but at six o'clock the same +evening he became insensible, and continued in that state until Monday, +the 20th, when he expired, without pain, between one and two o'clock in +the morning, in the eighty-fifth year of his age. + + * * * * * + + + + +JOHN BUNYAN + + +Grace Abounding + + + During his life of sixty years Bunyan wrote sixty books, and + of all these undoubtedly the most popular are the "Pilgrim's + Progress," "The Holy War," and "Grace Abounding." His "Grace + Abounding to the Chief of Sinners," generally called simply + "Grace Abounding," is a record of his own religious + experiences. (Bunyan, biography: see FICTION.) + + +_I.--To the Chief of Sinners_ + + +In this relation of the merciful working of God upon my soul I do in the +first place give you a hint of my pedigree and manner of bringing up. My +descent was, as is well-known to many, of a low and inconsiderable +generation, my father's house being of that rank that is meanest and +most despised of all the families in the land. Though my parents put me +to school, to my shame I confess I did soon lose that little I learnt. +As for my own natural life, for the time that I was without God in the +world, it was indeed according to the course of this world, and the +spirit that worketh in the children of disobedience, for from a child I +had but few equals for cursing, lying, and blaspheming. In these days +the thoughts of religion were very grievous to me. I could neither +endure it myself, nor that any other should. But God did not utterly +leave me, but followed me with judgements, yet such as were mixed with +mercy. + +Once I fell into a creek of the sea and hardly escaped drowning; and +another time I fell out of a boat into Bedford river, but mercy yet +preserved me alive. When I was a soldier, I and others were drawn to +such a place to besiege it; but when I was ready to go, one of the +company desired to go in my place, to which I consented. Coming to the +siege, as he stood sentinel, he was shot in the head with a musket +bullet, and died. Here were judgement and mercy, but neither of them did +awaken my soul to righteousness. + +Presently, after this I changed my condition into a married state, and +my mercy was to light upon a wife whose father was counted godly. Though +we came together so poor that we had not so much household stuff as a +dish or a spoon betwixt us both, yet she had two books which her father +left her when he died: "The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven," and "The +Practice of Piety." In these I sometimes read with her, and in them +found some things that were pleasing to me, but met with no conviction. +Yet through these books I fell in very eagerly with the religion of the +times, to wit, to go to church twice a day, though yet retaining my +wicked life. But one day, as I was standing at a neighbour's +shop-window, cursing after my wonted manner, the woman of the house +protested that she was made to tremble to hear me, and told me I by thus +doing was able to spoil all the youth in the whole town. + +At this reproof I was put to shame, and that, too, as I thought, before +the God of Heaven. Hanging down my head, I wished with all my heart that +I might be a little child again. How it came to pass I know not, but I +did from this time so leave off my swearing that it was a wonder to +myself to observe it. Soon afterwards I fell in company with one poor +man that made profession of religion. Falling into some liking to what +he said, I betook me to my Bible, especially to the historical part. +Wherefore I fell to some outward reformation, and did strive to keep the +commandments, and thus I continued about a year, all which time our +neighbours wondered at seeing such an alteration in my life. For though +I was as yet nothing but a poor painted hypocrite, I loved to be talked +of as one that was godly. Yet, as my conscience was beginning to be +tender, I after a time gave up bell-ringing and dancing, thinking I +could thus the better please God. But, poor wretch as I was, I was still +ignorant of Jesus Christ, and was going about to establish my own +righteousness. + +But upon a day the good providence of God took me to Bedford, to work on +my calling, and in that town I came on three or four poor women sitting +at a door in the sun and talking about the things of God. I listened in +silence while they spoke of the new birth and the work of God on their +hearts. At this I felt my own heart began to shake, for their words +convinced me that I wanted the true tokens of a godly man. I now began +to look into my Bible with new eyes, and became conscious of my lack of +faith, and was often ready to sink with faintness in my mind, lest I +should prove not to be an elect vessel of the mercy of God. I was long +vexed with fear, until one day a sweet light broke in upon me as I came +on the words, "Yet there is room." Still I wavered many months between +hopes and fears, though as to act of sinning I never was more tender +than now. I was more loathsome in my own eyes than a toad, and I thought +I was so in God's eyes, too. I thought none but the devil could equalise +me for inward wickedness; and thus I continued a long while, even some +years together. But afterwards the Lord did more fully and graciously +discover Himself to me, and at length I was indeed put into my right +mind, even as other Christians are. + +I remember that one day as I was travelling into the country, and musing +on the wickedness of my heart, that Scripture came to my mind. "He hath +made peace by the blood of His cross." I saw that the justice of God and +my sinful soul could embrace each other through this blood. This was a +good day to me. At this time I sat under the ministry of holy Mr. +Gifford, whose doctrine was, by God's grace, much for my stability. My +soul was now led from truth to truth, even from the birth and cradle of +the Son of God to His ascension and His second coming to judge the +world. + +One day there fell into my hands a book of Martin Luther. It was his +"Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians," and the volume was so old +that it was ready to fall to pieces. When I had but a little way perused +it, I found that my condition was in his experience so handled as if his +book had been written out of my heart. I do here wish to set forth that +I do prefer this book of Martin Luther upon the Galatians (excepting the +Holy Bible) before all the books I have ever seen, as most fit for a +wounded conscience. About this time I was beset with tormenting fears +that I had committed the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost, and an +ancient Christian to whom I opened my mind told me he thought so, too, +which gave me cold comfort. Thus, by strange and unusual assaults of the +tempter was my soul, like a broken vessel, tossed and driven with winds. +There was now nothing that I longed for but to be put out of doubt as to +my full pardon. One morning when I was at prayer, and trembling under +fear that no word of God could help me, that piece of a sentence darted +in upon me: "My grace is sufficient." By these words I was sweetly +sustained for about eight weeks, though not without conflicts, until at +last these same words did break in with great power suddenly upon me: +"My grace is sufficient for thee," repeated three times, at which my +understanding was so enlightened that I was as though I had seen the +Lord Jesus look down from Heaven through the tiles upon me, and direct +these words to me. + +One day, as I was passing in the field, with some dashes on my +conscience, fearing lest yet all was not right, suddenly this sentence +fell upon my soul: "Thy righteousness is in Heaven." I saw in a moment +that my righteousness was not my good frame of heart, but Jesus Christ +Himself, "the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." Now shall I go +forward to give you a relation of other of the Lord's dealings with me. +I shall begin with what I met when I first did join in fellowship with +the people of God in Bedford. Upon a time I was suddenly seized with +much sickness, and was inclining towards consumption. Now I began to +give myself up to fresh serious examination, and there came flocking +into my mind an innumerable company of my sins and transgressions, my +soul also being greatly tormented between these two considerations: Live +I must not, die I dare not. But as I was walking up and down in the +house, a man in a most woeful state, that word of God took hold of my +heart: "Ye are justified freely by His grace, through the redemption +that is in Jesus Christ." But oh, what a turn it made upon me! At this I +was greatly lightened in my mind, and made to understand that God could +justify a sinner at any time. And as I was thus in a muse, that +Scripture also came with great power upon my spirit: "Not by works of +righteousness that we have done, but according to His mercy He hath +saved us." Now was I got on high; I saw myself verily within the arms of +grace and mercy; and though I was before afraid to think of a dying +hour, yet now I cried with my whole heart: "Let me die." + + +_II.--Bunyan Becomes a Preacher_ + + +And now I will thrust in a word or two concerning my preaching of the +Word. For, after I had been about five or six years awakened, some of +the ablest of the saints with us desired me, with much earnestness, to +take a hand sometimes in one of the meetings, and to speak a word of +exhortation unto them. I consented to their request, and did twice at +two several assemblies, though with much weakness, discover my gift to +them. At which they did solemnly protest that they were much affected +and comforted, and gave thanks to the Father of Mercies for the grace +bestowed on me. After this, when some of them did go to the country to +teach, they would also that I should go with them. To be brief, after +some solemn prayer to the Lord with fasting, I was more particularly +called forth and appointed to a more ordinary and public preaching of +the Word. Though of myself of all saints the most unworthy, yet I did +set upon the work, and did according to my gift preach the blessed +Gospel, which, when the country people understood, they came in to hear +the Word by hundreds. I had not preached long before some began to be +touched at the apprehension of their need of Jesus Christ, and to bless +God for me as God's instrument that showed the way of salvation. + +In my preaching I took special notice of this one thing, that the Lord +did lead me to begin where His Word begins with sinners--that is, to +condemn all flesh, because of sin. Thus I went on for about two years, +crying out against men's sins, after which the Lord came in upon my soul +and gave me discoveries of His Blessed grace, wherefore I now altered in +my preaching, and did much labour to hold forth Christ in all His +relations, offices, and benefits unto the world. After this, God led me +into something of the mystery of union with Christ. Wherefore that I +discovered to them also. And when I had travelled through these three +chief points of the Word of God, about five years or more, I was cast +into prison, where I have lain above as long again, to confirm the truth +by way of suffering, as before in testifying of it by preaching +according to the Scriptures. + +When I went first to preach the Word, the doctors and priests of the +country did open wide against me. But I was persuaded not to render +railing for railing, but to see how many of their carnal professors I +could convince of their miserable state by the law, and of the want and +worth of Christ. I never cared to meddle with things that were +controverted among the saints, especially things of the lowest nature. I +have observed that where I have had a work to do for God, I have had +first, as it were, the going of God upon my spirit to desire I might +preach there. My great desire in my fulfilling my ministry was to get +into the darkest places of the country, even amongst these people that +were furthest off of profession. But in this work, as in all other work, +I had my temptations attending me, and that of divers kinds. Sometimes +when I have been preaching I have been violently assailed with thoughts +of blasphemy, and strangely tempted to speak the words with my mouth +before the congregation. But, I thank the Lord, I have been kept from +consenting to these so horrid suggestions. I have also, while found in +this blessed work of Christ, been often tempted to pride and liftings up +of heart, and this has caused hanging down of the head under all my +gifts and attainments. I have felt this thorn in the flesh the very +mercy of God to me. But when Satan perceived that his thus tempting and +assaulting of me would not answer his design--to wit, to overthrow my +ministry--then he tried another way, which was to load me with slanders +and reproaches. It began, therefore, to be rumoured up and down the +country that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman, and the like. To all +which I shall only say, God knows that I am innocent. Now, as Satan +laboured to make me vile among my countrymen, that, if possible, my +preaching might be of none effect, so there was added thereto a tedious +imprisonment, of which I shall in my next give you a brief account. + + +_III.--In a Prison Cell_ + + +Upon November 12, 1660, I was desired by some of the friends in the +country to come to teach at Samsell, by Harlington, in Bedfordshire, to +whom I made a promise to be with them. The justice, Mr. Francis Wingate, +hearing thereof, forthwith issued out his warrant to take me and bring +me before him. When the constable came in we were, with our Bibles in +our hands, just about to begin our exercise. So that I was taken and +forced to leave the room, but before I went away I spake some words of +counsel and encouragement to the people; for we might have been +apprehended as thieves or murderers. But, blessed be God, we suffer as +Christians for well-doing; and we had better be the persecuted than the +persecutors. But the constable and the justice's man would not be quiet +till they had me away. But because the justice was not at home on that +day, a friend of mine engaged to bring me to the constable next morning; +so on that day we went to him, and so to the justice. He asked the +constable what we did where we were met together, and what we had with +us? I know he meant whether we had armour or not; but when he heard that +there were only a few of us, met for preaching and hearing the Word, he +could not well tell what to say. Yet, because he had sent for me, he did +adventure to put a few proposals to me, to this effect: What did I +there? Why did I not content myself with following my calling? For it +was against the law that such as I should be admitted to do as I did. I +answered that my intent was to instruct the people to forsake their sins +and close in with Christ, lest they did perish miserably, and that I +could do both, follow my calling and also preach without confusion. + +At which words he was in a chafe, for he said he would break the neck of +our meetings. I said it might be so. Then he wished me to get sureties +to be bound for me, or else he would send me to the gaol. My sureties +being ready, I called them in, and when the bond for my appearance was +made, he told them that they were bound to keep me from preaching; and +that if I did preach, their bonds would be forfeited. To which I +answered that I should break them, for I should not leave preaching the +Word of God. Whereat that my mittimus must be made, and I sent to the +gaol, there to lie till the quarter sessions. + +After I had lain in the gaol for four or five days, the brethren sought +means again to get me out by bondsmen (for so runs my mittimus--that I +should lie there till I could find sureties). They went to a justice at +Elstow, one Mr. Crumpton, to desire him to take bond for my appearing at +quarter session. At first he told them he would; but afterwards he made +a demur at the business, and desired first to see my mittimus, which ran +to this purpose: That I went about to several conventicles in this +country, to the great disparagement of the government of the Church of +England, etc. When he had seen it, he said there might be something more +against me than was expressed in my mittimus; and that he was but a +young man, and, therefore, he durst not do it. This my gaoler told me; +whereat I was not at all daunted, but rather glad, and saw evidently +that the Lord had heard me; for before I went down to the justice, I +begged of God that if I might do more good by being at liberty than in +prison that then I might be set at liberty; but, if not, His will be +done. For I was not altogether without hopes that my imprisonment might +be an awakening to the saints in this country, therefore I could not +tell well which to choose; only I in that manner did commit the thing to +God. And verily, at my return, I did meet my God sweetly in the prison +again, comforting of me and satisfying of me that it was His will and +mind that I should be there. + +When I came back to prison, when I was musing at the slender answer of +the justice, this word dropped in upon my heart with some life: "For He +knew that for envy they had delivered him." + +Thus have I, in short, declared the manner and occasion of my being in +prison, where I lie waiting the good will of God, to do with me as he +pleaseth; knowing that not one hair of my head can fall to the ground +without the will of my Father. + + +_IV.--Bunyan's Story Supplemented_ + + +The continuation by an intimate friend of Bunyan, written anonymously. + +Reader--The painful and industrious author of this book has given you a +faithful and very moving relation of the beginning and middle of the +days of his pilgrimage on earth. As a true and intimate acquaintance of +Mr. Bunyan's, that his good end may be known, as well as his evil +beginning, I have taken upon me to piece this to the thread too soon +broke off. + +After his being freed from his twelve years' imprisonment, wherein he +had time to furnish the world with sundry good books, etc., and by his +patience to move Dr. Barlow, the then Bishop of Lincoln, and other +churchmen, to pity his hard and unreasonable sufferings so far as to +procure his enlargement, or there perhaps he had died by the noisomeness +and ill-usage of the place. Being again at liberty, he went to visit +those who had been a comfort to him in his tribulation, giving +encouragement by his example, if they happened to fall into affliction +or trouble, then to suffer patiently for the sake of a good conscience, +so that the people found a wonderful consolation in his discourse and +admonition. + +As often as opportunity would permit, he gathered them together in +convenient places, though the law was then in force against meetings, +and fed them with the sincere milk of the Word, that they might grow in +grace thereby. He sent relief to such as were anywhere taken and +imprisoned on these accounts. He took great care to visit the sick, nor +did he spare any pains or labour in travel though to the remote +counties, where any might stand in need of his assistance. + +When in the late reign liberty of conscience was unexpectedly given, he +gathered his congregation at Bedford, where he mostly lived and had +spent most of his life. Here a new and larger meeting-house was built, +and when, for the first time, he appeared there to edify, the place was +so thronged that many were constrained to stay without, though the house +was very spacious. + +Here he lived in much peace and quiet of mind, contenting himself with +that little God had bestowed on him, and sequestering himself from all +secular employments to follow that of his call to the ministry. + +During these things there were regulators sent into all the cities and +towns corporate, to new model the government in the magistracy, etc., by +turning out some and putting in others. Against this Mr. Bunyan +expressed zeal with some weariness, and laboured with his congregation +to prevent their being imposed on in this kind. And when a great man in +those days, coming to Bedford upon such an errand, sent for him, as it +is supposed, to give him a place of public trust, he would by no means +come at him, but sent his excuse. + +When he was at leisure from writing and teaching, he often came up to +London, and there went among the congregations of the Nonconformists, +and used his talent to the great good-liking of the hearers. Thus he +spent his latter years. But let me come a little nearer to particulars +of time. After he was sensibly convicted of the wicked state of his life +and converted, he was baptised into the congregation, and admitted a +member thereof in the year 1655, and became speedily a very zealous +professor. But upon the return of King Charles II. to the Crown in 1660, +he was on November 12 taken as he was edifying some good people, and +confined in Bedford Gaol for the space of six years; till the Act of +Indulgence to dissenters being allowed, he obtained his freedom by the +intercession of some in power that took pity on his sufferings; but was +again taken up, and was then confined for six years more. He was chosen +to the care of the congregation at Bedford on December 12, 1671. In this +charge he often had disputed with scholars that came to oppose him, as +thinking him an ignorant person; but he confuted, and put to silence, +one after another, all his method being to keep close to Scripture. + +At length, worn out with sufferings, age, and often teaching, the day of +his dissolution drew near. Riding to Reading in order to plead with a +young man's father for reconciliation to him, he journeyed on his return +by way of London, where, through being overtaken by excessive rains and +coming to his lodgings extremely wet, he fell sick of a violent fever, +which he bore with much constancy and patience. Finding his vital +strength decay, he resigned his soul into the hands of his most merciful +Redeemer, following his Pilgrim from the City of Destruction to the New +Jerusalem. He died at the house of one Mr. Straddocks, a grocer, at the +Star on Snow Hill, in the Parish of St. Sepulchre, London, in the +sixtieth year of his age, after ten days' sickness; and was buried in +the new burying ground in Artillery Place. + + * * * * * + + + + +ALEXANDER CARLYLE + + +Autobiography + + + Alexander Carlyle, minister of the Church of Scotland and + author of the celebrated "Autobiography," was born at + Cummmertrees Manse, Dumfriesshire, on January 26, 1722, and + died at Inveresk on August 25, 1805. His commanding appearance + won for him the sobriquet of "Jupiter Carlyle," and Sir Walter + Scott spoke of him as "the grandest demi-god I ever saw." He + was greatly respected in Scotland as a wise and tolerant man, + where too many were narrow, bitter, and inquisitorial. With + regard to freedom in religious thought he was in advance of + his time, and brought the clerical profession into greater + respect by showing himself a cultured man of the world as well + as a leader of his Church. Carlyle, however, would hardly be + remembered now but for the glimpses which his book gives of + contemporary persons and manners. The work was first edited in + 1860 by John Hill Burton. + + +_I.--In the Days of Prince Charlie_ + + +I have been too late in beginning this work, as I have entered on the +seventy-ninth year of my age, but I will endeavour, with God's blessing, +to serve posterity to the best of my ability with such a faithful +picture of times and characters as came within my view in the humble and +private sphere of life in which I have always acted. + +My father, minister of Prestonpans, was of a warm and benevolent temper, +and an orthodox and eloquent orator. My mother was a person of an +elegant and reflecting mind, and was as much respected as my father was +beloved. Until 1732, when I was ten years of age, they were in very +narrow circumstances, but in that year the stipend was raised from £70 +to £140 per annum. In 1735 I was sent to college. + +Yielding to parental wishes, I consented, in 1738, to become a student +of divinity, and pursued my studies in Edinburgh and, from 1743, in +Glasgow, passing my trials in the presbytery of Haddington in the summer +of 1745. Early in September I was at Moffat, when I heard that the +Chevalier Prince Charles had landed in the north. I repaired to +Edinburgh, and joined a company of volunteers for the defence of the +city. Edinburgh was in great ferment, and of divided allegiance; there +was no news of the arrival of Sir John Cope with the government forces; +the Highlanders came on, no resistance was made, and the city +surrendered on the sixteenth. That night, my brother and I walked along +the sands to Prestonpans, and carried the news. Proceeding to Dunbar, +where Sir John Cope's army lay, I inquired for Colonel Gardiner, whom I +found very dejected. + +"Sandie," said Colonel Gardiner, "I'll tell you in confidence that I +have not above ten men in my regiment whom I am certain will follow me. +But we must give them battle now, and God's will be done!" + +Cope's small army was totally defeated at Prestonpans on the morning of +the twenty-first. I heard the first cannon that was fired, and started +to my clothes. My father had been up before daylight, and had resorted +to the steeple. I ran into the garden. Within ten minutes after firing +the first cannon the whole prospect was filled with runaways, and +Highlanders pursuing them. The next week I saw Prince Charles twice in +Edinburgh. He was a good-looking man; his hair was dark red and his eyes +black. His features were regular, his visage long, much sunburnt and +freckled, and his countenance thoughtful and melancholy. + +In October of the same year I went to Leyden, to study at the university +there. Here there were twenty-two British students, among them the +Honourable Charles Townshend, afterwards a distinguished statesman, and +Mr. Doddeswell, afterwards Chancellor of the Exchequer. We passed our +time very agreeably, and very profitably, too; for the conversations at +our evening meetings of young men of good knowledge could not fail to be +instructive, much more so than the lectures, which were very dull. On my +return from Holland, I was introduced by my cousin, Captain Lyon, to +some families of condition in London, and was carried to court of an +evening, for George II. at that time had evening drawing rooms, where +his majesty and Princess Amelia, who had been a lovely woman, played at +cards. + +I had many agreeable parties with the officers of the Horse Guards, who +were all men of the world, and some of them of erudition and +understanding. I was introduced to Smollett at this time, and was in the +coffee-house with him when the news of the Battle of Culloden came, and +when London all over was in a perfect uproar of joy. The theatres were +not very attractive this season, as Garrick had gone over to Dublin; but +there remained Mrs. Pritchard, Mrs. Clive, and Macklin, who were all +excellent in their way. Of the literary people I met with I must not +forget Thomson, the poet, and Dr. Armstrong. + +In June, 1746, I was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of Haddington, +and was ordained minister of Inveresk on August 2, 1748. There were many +resident families of distinction, and my situation was envied as +superior to that of most clergymen for agreeable society. As one of the +"Moderate" party, I now became much implicated in ecclesiastical +politics. Dr. Robertson, John Home, and I had an active hand in the +restoration of the authority of the General Assembly over the +Presbyteries. + + +_II.--Literary Lions of Edinburgh_ + + +It was in one of these years that Smollett visited Scotland, and came +out to Musselburgh. He was a man of very agreeable conversation and of +much genuine humour, and, though not a profound scholar, possessed a +philosophical mind, and was capable of making the soundest observations +on human life, and of discerning the excellence or seeing the ridicule +of every character he met with. Fielding only excelled him in giving a +dramatic story to his novels, but was inferior to him in the true comic +vein. At this time David Hume was living in Edinburgh, and composing his +"History of Great Britain." He was a man of great knowledge, and of a +social and benevolent temper, and truly the best-natured man in the +world. + +I was one of those who never believed that David Hume's sceptical +principles had laid fast hold on his mind, but thought that his books +proceeded rather from affectation of superiority and pride of +understanding. When his circumstances were narrow, he accepted the +office of librarian to the Faculty of Advocates, worth £40 per annum, +and to my certain knowledge he gave every farthing of the salary to +families in distress. For innocent mirth and agreeable raillery I never +knew his match. + +Adam Smith, though perhaps only second to David in learning and +ingenuity, was far inferior to him in conversational talents. He was the +most absent man in company that I ever saw, moving his lips, and talking +to himself, and smiling, in the midst of large companies. If you awaked +him from his reverie and made him attend to the subject of conversation, +he immediately began a harangue, and never stopped till he told you all +he knew about it, with the utmost philosophical ingenuity. Though Smith +had some little jealousy in his temper, he had the most unbounded +benevolence. + +Dr. Adam Ferguson was a very different kind of man. He had been chaplain +to the 42nd, adding all the decorum belonging to the clerical character +to the manners of a gentleman, the effect of which was that he was +highly respected by all the officers, and adored by his countrymen and +the common soldiers. His office turned his mind to the study of war, +which appears in his "Roman History," where many of the battles are +better described than by any historian but Polybius, who was an +eyewitness to so many. He had a boundless vein of humour, which he +indulged when none but intimates were present; but he was apt to be +jealous of his rivals and indignant against assumed superiority. + +They were all honourable men in the highest degree, and John Home and I +together kept them on very good terms. With respect to taste, we held +David Hume and Adam Smith inferior to the rest, for they were both +prejudiced in favour of the French tragedies, and did not sufficiently +appreciate Shakespeare and Milton; their taste was a rational act rather +than the instantaneous effect of fine feeling. In John Home's younger +days he had much sprightliness and vivacity, so that he infused joy +wherever he came. But all his opinions of men and things were +prejudices, which, however, did not disqualify him for writing admirable +poetry. + +In 1754, the Select Society was established, which improved and gave a +name to the _literati_ of this country. Of the first members were Lord +Dalmeny, elder brother of the present Lord Rosebery; the Duke of +Hamilton of that period, a man of letters could he have kept himself +sober; and Mr. Robert Alexander, wine merchant, a very worthy man but a +bad speaker, who entertained us all with warm suppers and excellent +claret. In the month of February, 1755, John Home's tragedy of "Douglas" +was completely prepared for the stage, and he set out with it for +London, attended by six or seven of us. Were I to relate all the +circumstances of this journey, I am persuaded they would not be exceeded +by any novelist who has wrote since the days of "Don Quixote." Poor Home +had no success, for Garrick, after reading the play, returned it as +totally unfit for the stage. "Douglas," however, was acted in Edinburgh +in 1756, and had unbounded success for many nights; but the +"high-flying" set in the Church were unanimous against it, as they +thought it a sin for a clergyman to write any play, let it be ever so +moral. I was summoned before the Presbytery for my conduct in attending +the play, but was exonerated by the General Assembly. + +About the end of February, 1758, I went to London with my sister +Margaret to get her married with Dr. Dickson. It is to be noted that we +could get no four-wheeled chaise till we came to Durham, those +conveyances being then only in their infancy, and turnpike roads being +only in their commencement in the North. Dr. Robertson having come to +London to offer his "History of Scotland" for sale, we went to see the +lions together. Home was now very friendly with Garrick, and I was often +in company with this celebrated actor. + +Garrick gave a dinner to John Home and his friends at his house at +Hampton, and told us to bring golf clubs and balls that we might play on +Molesey Hurst. Garrick had built a handsome temple with a statue of +Shakespeare in it on the banks of the Thames. The poet and the actor +were well pleased with one another, and we passed a very agreeable +afternoon. + +We yielded to a request of Sir David Kinloch to accompany him on a jaunt +to Portsmouth, and were much pleased with the diversified beauty of the +country. We viewed with much pleasure the solid foundation of the naval +glory of Great Britain, in the amazing extent and richness of the +dockyards and warehouses, and in the grandeur of her fleet in the +harbour and in the Downs. There was a fine fleet of ten ships of the +line in the Downs, with the Royal George at their head, all ready for +sea. + + +_III.--Scottish Social Life_ + + +The clergy of Scotland, being under apprehensions that the window tax +would be extended to them, had given me in charge to state our case to +some of the Ministers, and try to make an impression in our favour. The +day came when we were presented to Lord Bute, but our reception was cold +and dry. We soon took our leave, and no sooner were we out of hearing +than Robert Adam, the architect, who was with us, fell a-cursing and +swearing--"What! had he been most graciously received by all the princes +in Italy and France, to come and be treated with such distance and pride +by the youngest earl but one in all Scotland?" They were better friends +afterwards, and Robert found him a kind patron when his professional +merit was made known to him. Lord Bute was a worthy and virtuous man, +but he was not versatile enough for a Prime Minister; and though +personally brave, was void of that political firmness which is necessary +to stand the storms of state. We returned to Scotland by Oxford, +Warwick, and Birmingham. + +In August, 1758, I rode to Inverary, being invited by the Milton family, +who always were with the Duke of Argyll. We sat down every day fifteen +or sixteen to dinner, and the duke had the talent of conversing with his +guests so as to distinguish men of knowledge and ability without +neglecting those who valued themselves on their birth and their +rent-rolls. After the ladies were withdrawn and he had drunk his bottle +of claret, he retired to an easy-chair by the fireplace; drawing a black +silk nightcap over his eyes, he slept, or seemed to sleep, for an hour +and a half. + +In the meantime, the toastmaster pushed about the bottle, and a more +noisy or regardless company could hardly be. Dinner was always served at +two o'clock, and about six o'clock the toastmaster and the gentlemen +drew off, when the ladies returned, and his grace awoke and called for +his tea. Tea being over, he played two rubbers at sixpenny whist. Supper +was served soon after nine, and he drank another bottle of claret, and +could not be got to go to bed till one in the morning. I stayed over +Sunday and preached to his grace. The ladies told me that I had pleased +him, which gratified me not a little, as without him no preferment could +be obtained in Scotland. + +It was after this that I wrote what was called the "Militia Pamphlet," +which had a great and unexpected success; it hit the tone of the +country, which was irritated at the refusal to allow the establishment +of a militia in Scotland. + +The year 1760 was the most important of my life, for before the end of +it I was united with the most valuable friend and companion that any +mortal ever possessed. I owed my good fortune to the friendship of John +Home, who pointed out the young lady to me as a proper object of suit, +without which I should never have attempted it, for she was then just +past seventeen, when I was thirty-eight. With a superior understanding +and great discernment for her age, she had an ease and propriety of +manners which made her much distinguished in every company. She had not +one selfish corner in her whole soul, and was willing to sacrifice her +life for those she loved. + + * * * * * + + + + +THOMAS CARLYLE + + +Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell + + + Thomas Carlyle, the celebrated literary moralist, was born at + Ecclefechan, Scotland, Dec. 4, 1795. He was educated at the + village school and at the Annan Grammar School, proceeding to + Edinburgh University in 1809. The breakdown of his dogmatic + beliefs made it impossible for him to enter the clerical + profession, and neither school-teaching nor the study of law + attracted him. Supporting himself by private teaching, Carlyle + made the beginnings of a literary connection. He fought his + way under great difficulties; he was hard to govern; he was a + painfully slow writer; and ignorance and rusticity mar his + work to the very end. Yet a fiery revolt against impostures, + an ardent sympathy for humanity, a worship of the heroic, an + immutable confidence in the eternal verities, and occasionally + a wonderful perception of beauty, made Carlyle one of the most + influential English writers of the nineteenth century. His + marriage in 1826 with Jane Baillie Welsh was an unhappy one. + Carlyle died on February 4, 1881, having survived his wife + fifteen years. The three volumes of "Cromwell's Letters and + Speeches," with elucidations by Carlyle, were published in + 1845; the first work, one might say, conveying a sympathetic + appreciation of the great Protector, all histories of the man + and his times having been hitherto written from the point of + view either of the Royalists or of the revolutionary Whigs. To + neither of these was an understanding of Puritanism at all + possible. Moreover, to the Cavaliers, Cromwell was a regicide; + to the Whigs he was a military usurper who dissolved + parliaments. To both he was a Puritan who applied Biblical + phraseology to practical affairs--therefore, a canting + hypocrite, though undoubtedly a man of great capacity and + rugged force. + + +_I.--Puritan Oliver_ + + +One wishes there were a history of English Puritanism, the last of all +our heroisms. At bottom, perhaps, no nobler heroism ever transacted +itself upon this earth; and it lies as good as lost to us in the elysium +we English have provided for our heroes! The Rushworthian elysium. +Dreariest continent of shot-rubbish the eye ever saw. Puritanism is not +of the nineteenth century, but of the seventeenth; it is grown +unintelligible, what we may call incredible. Heroes who knew in every +fibre, and with heroic daring laid to heart, that an Almighty justice +does verily rule this world; that it is good to fight on God's side, and +bad to fight on the devil's side. Well, it would seem the resuscitation +of a heroism from the past is no easy enterprise. + +Of Biographies of Cromwell, there are none tolerable. Oliver's father +was a country gentleman of good estate, not a brewer; grandson of Sir +Richard Cromwell, or Williams, nephew of Thomas Cromwell "mauler of +monasteries"; his mother a Stuart (Steward), twelfth cousin or so of +King Charles. He was born in 1599, went to Cambridge in the month that +Shakespeare died. Next year his father died, and Oliver went no more to +Cambridge. He was the only son. In 1620 he married. + +He sat in the Parliament of 1628-29; the Petition of Right Parliament; a +most brave and noble Parliament, ending with that scene when Holles held +the Speaker down in his chair. The last Parliament in England for above +eleven years. Notable years, what with soap-monopoly, ship-money, death +of the great Gustavus at Lûtzen, pillorying of William Prynne, Jenny +Geddes, and National Covenant, old Field-Marshal Lesley at Dunse Law and +pacification thereafter nowise lasting. + +To chastise the Scots, money is not attainable save by a Parliament, +which at last the king summons. This "Short Parliament," wherein Oliver +sits for Cambridge, is dismissed, being not prompt with supplies, which +the king seeks by other methods. But the army so raised will not fight +the Scots, who march into Northumberland and Durham. Money not to be had +otherwise than by a Parliament, which is again summoned; the Long +Parliament, which did not finally vanish till 1660. In which is Oliver +again, "very much hearkened unto," despite "linen plain and not very +clean, and voice sharp and untuneable." + +Protestations; execution of Strafford, "the one supremely able man the +king had"; a hope of compromise being for a time introduced by "royal +varnish." Then, in November, 1641, an Irish rebellion blazing into Irish +massacre; and in Parliament, the Grand Remonstrance carried by a small +majority. In January, the king rides over to St. Stephen's to arrest the +"five members." Then on one side Commissions of Array, on the other +Ordinance for the Militia. In July and August, Mr. Cromwell is active in +Cambridgeshire for the defence of that county, as others are elsewhere. +Then Captain Cromwell, with his troop of horse, is with Essex at +Edgehill, where he does his duty; and then back in Cambridgeshire, +organising the Eastern Association. So we are at 1643 with the war in +full swing. + +Letters have been few enough so far; vestiges, traces of Cromwell's +doings in the eastern counties; a successful skirmish at Grantham, a +"notable victory" at Gainsborough. In August, Manchester takes command +of the Association, with Cromwell for one of his colonels; in September, +first battle of Newbury, and signing of the Solemn League and Covenant +at Westminster. Cromwell has written "I have a lovely company; you would +respect them did you know them"--his "Ironsides." In October, Colonel +Cromwell does stoutly at Winceby fight; has his horse shot under him. +Lincolnshire is nearly cleared. + +On March 20, 1643, there is a characteristic letter to General Crawford, +concerning the dismissal of an officer, whom Cromwell would have +restored. "Ay, but the man is an Anabaptist. Are you sure of that? Admit +he be, shall that render him incapable to serve the public? Sir, the +state, in choosing men to serve it, takes no notice of their opinions. +Take heed of being too sharp against those to whom you can object little +but that they square not with you in every opinion concerning matters of +religion." + +In July was fought, in Yorkshire, the battle of Marston Moor, the +bloodiest of the whole war, which gave the whole north to the +Parliamentary party. Cromwell Writes to his brother-in-law, to tell him +of his son's death. Of the battle, he says, "It had all the evidences of +an absolute victory obtained by the Lord's blessing upon the godly +party. We never charged but we routed the enemy. God made them as +stubble to our swords." Soon after he is indignant with Manchester for +being "much slow in action," especially after the second battle of +Newbury. Hence comes the self-denying ordinance, in December, and +construction of New Model Army. + +From which ordinance Cromwell is virtually dispensed, being appointed +for repeated periods of forty days, and doing good work in Oxfordshire +and elsewhere; clearly indispensable, till the Lord General Fairfax gets +him appointed Lieutenant-general; and on his joining Fairfax, and +commanding the cavalry, the king's army is shattered at Naseby. "We +killed and took about 5,000," writes Cromwell to Lenthall. "Sir, this is +none other but the hand of God." + +Thenceforward, this war is only completing of the victory. After the +storming of Bristol, Cromwell writes, "Presbyterians, Independents, all +have here the same spirit of faith and prayer; they agree here, have no +names of difference; pity it is it should be otherwise anywhere." No +canting here! + +Cromwell captures Winchester, and Baring House, and sundry other +strongholds. Finally, this first civil war is ended with the king's +surrender of himself to the Scots. + + +_II.--Regicide_ + + +Thereafter, infinite negotiations, public and private; the king hoping +"so to draw, either the Presbyterians or the Independents, to side with +me for extirpating one another that I shall be really king again." +Ending with the Scots marching home, and the king being secluded in +Holmby House. We note during this time a letter to Bridget Cromwell, now +the wife of General Ireton. + +But now Parliament is busy carrying its Presbyterian uniformity +platform. London city and the Parliament are crying out to apply the +shears against sectaries and schismatics; the army is less drastic; +shows, indeed, an undue tolerance to Presbyterian alarm. With Cromwell's +approval the army is to be quartered not less than twenty-five miles +from London. This quarrel between army and Parliament waxes; the army +gains strength by securing the person of the king, finally marches onto +London, and gets its way. All is turmoil again, however, when Charles +escapes from Hampton Court, where they have lodged him, but is detained +at Carisbrooke. When 40,000 Scots are coming to liberate the king, the +army's patience breaks down. Hitherto, Cromwell has striven for an +honest settlement. Now we of the army conclude, with prayer and tears, +that these troubles are a penalty for our backslidings, conferences, +compromises, and the like; that "if the Lord bring us back in peace," +Charles Stuart, the Man of Blood, must be called to account. + +The eastern counties and Wales are up; the Scots are coming. Fairfax +goes to Colchester, Cromwell to Wales, where Pembroke keeps him a month; +thence, to cut up the Scots army in detail in the straggling battle +called Preston, of which he gives account, as also does "Dugald +Dalgetty" Turner. The clearance of the north detains him for some time, +during which he deals sternly with soldiers who plunder. In November he +is returning from Scotland, writing, too, a suitable letter to Colonel +Hammond, the king's custodian at Carisbrooke. Matters also are coming to +a head between army and the Parliament, which means to make +concessions--fatal in the judgement of the army--and to ignore the said +army; which, on the other hand, regards itself as an authority called +into being by God and having responsibilities, and purges the +Parliament, Cromwell arriving in town on the evening of the first day of +purging. Whereby the minority of the members is become majority. And +this chapter of history is grimly closed eight weeks later with a +certain death warrant. + +The Rump Parliament becomes concerned with establishment of the +Commonwealth Council of State; appoints Mr. Milton Secretary for Foreign +Languages, and nominates Lieutenant-general Cromwell to quell rebellion +in Ireland. Oliver's extant letters are concerned with domestic +matters--marriage of Richard. While the army for Ireland is getting +prepared, there is trouble with the Levellers, sansculottism of a sort; +shooting of valiant but misguided mutineers having notions as to +Millennium. + +On August 15, Cromwell is in Ireland. His later letters have been full +of gentle domesticities and pieties, strangely contrasted with the fiery +savagery and iron grimness of the next batch. Derry and Dublin are the +only two cities held for the Commonwealth. The Lord-lieutenant comes +offering submission with law and order, or death. The Irish have no +faith in promises; will not submit. Therefore, in the dispatches which +tell the story, we find a noteworthy phenomenon--an armed soldier, +solemnly conscious to himself that he is the soldier of God the Just, +terrible as death, relentless as doom, doing God's judgements on the +enemies of God. + +Tredah, that is Drogheda, is his first objective, with its garrison of +3,000 soldiers. Drogheda is summoned to surrender on pain of storm; +refuses, is stormed, no quarter being given to the armed garrison, +mostly English. "I believe this bitterness will save much effusion of +blood through the goodness of God." The garrison of Dundalk, not liking +the precedent, evacuated it; that of Trim likewise. No resistance, in +fact, was offered till Cromwell came before Wexford. After suffering a +cannonade, the commandant proposed to evacuate Wexford on terms which +"manifested the impudency of the men." Oliver would only promise quarter +to rank and file. Before any answer came, the soldiery stormed the town, +which Cromwell had not intended; but he looked upon the outcome as "an +unexpected providence." + +The rule of sending a summons to surrender before attacking was always +observed, and rarely disregarded. "I meddle not with any man's +conscience; but if liberty of conscience means liberty to exercise the +mass, that will not be allowed of." The Clonmacnoise Manifesto, inviting +the Irish "not to be deceived with any show of clemency exercised upon +them hitherto," hardly supports the diatribes against Cromwell's +"massacring" propensities. Also in Cromwell's counter-declaration is a +pregnant challenge. "Give us an instance of one man since my coming to +Ireland, not in arms, massacred, destroyed, or banished, concerning the +massacre or destruction of whom justice hath not been done or +endeavoured to be done." + +That the business at Drogheda and Wexford did prevent much effusion of +blood is manifest from the surrenders which invariably followed almost +immediately upon summons. The last he reports is Kilkenny (March, 1650); +his actual last fight is the storm of Clonmel; for, at the request of +Parliament, he returns to England to attend to other matters of gravity, +Munster and Leinster being now practically under control. + + +_III.--Crowning Mercies_ + + +Matters of gravity indeed; for Scotland, the prime mover in this +business of Puritanism, has for leaders Argyles, Loudons, and others of +the pedant species; no inspired Oliver. So these poor Scotch governors +have tried getting Charles II. to adopt the Covenant as best he +can--have "compelled him to sign it voluntarily." Scotland will either +invade us or be invaded by us--which we decide to be preferable. +Cromwell must go, since Fairfax will not resign his command in favour of +Cromwell; who does go, with the hundred-and-tenth psalm in the head and +heart of him. + +So he marches by way of Berwick to Musselburgh, where he finds David +Lesley entrenched in impregnable lines between him and Edinburgh. He +writes to the General Assembly of the Kirk in protest against a +declaration of theirs. "Is it, therefore, infallibly agreeable to the +Word of God, all that you say? I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, +think it possible that you may be mistaken." But shrewd Lesley lies +within his lines, will not be tempted out; provisions are failing, and +the weather breaking. We must fall back on Dunbar--where Lesley promptly +hems us in, occupying the high ground. + +But presently Lesley, at whatsoever urging, moves to change ground, +which movement gives Oliver his chance. He attacks instead of awaiting +attack; the Scots army is scattered, 3,000 killed and 10,000 prisoners +taken. Such is Dunbar Battle, or Dunbar Drove. Edinburgh is ours, though +the Castle holds out; surrenders only on December 19, on most honourable +terms. But what to do with Scotland, with its covenanted king, a +solecism incarnate? + +We have a most wifely letter to Cromwell from his wife, urging him to +write oftener to herself and to important persons: correspondence +concerning Dunbar medal, and Chancellorship of Oxford University; and +the lord general falls ill, with recoveries and relapses. + +Active military movements, however, become imperative, so far as the +general's health permits. In spring and early summer is some successful +skirmishing; in July Cromwell's army has, for the most part, got into +Fife, thereby cutting off the supplies of the king's army at Stirling, +which suddenly marches straight for the heart of England, the way being +open. Cromwell, having just captured Perth, starts in pursuit, leaving +George Monk to look after Scotland. + +The Scots march by the Lancashire route, keeping good discipline, but +failing to gather the Presbyterian allies or Royalist allies they had +looked for. On August 22, Charles erects his standard at +Worcester--ninth anniversary of the day Charles I. erected his at +Nottingham. On the anniversary of Dunbar fight his Scotch army is +crushed, battling desperately at Worcester; cut to pieces, with six or +seven thousand prisoners taken. Cromwell calls it "for aught I know, a +crowning mercy," and fears lest "the fullness of these continued mercies +may occasion pride and wantonness." Charles, however, escapes. The +general here sheaths his war-sword for good, and comes to town, to be +greeted with acclamations. + +Of the next nineteen months the history becomes very dim. There are but +five letters, none notable. The Rump sits, conspicuous with red-tapery; +does not get itself dissolved nor anything else done of consequence; +leaves much that is of consequence not done. Before twelve months the +officers are petitioning the lord general that something be done for a +new Representative House; to be, let us say, a sort of Convention of +Notables. At any rate, in April, 1653, the Rump propose to solve the +problem by continuing themselves; till the lord general ejects them +summarily in a manner that need not here be retold. With this for +consequence, that Cromwell himself, "with the advice of my Council of +Officers," nominates divers persons to form the new Parliament, which +shall be hereafter known as "Bare-bones." + +In this Parliament, which included not a few notable men, Cromwell made +the first speech extant, justifying his dismissal of the Rump, and the +summoning of this assembly, chosen as being godly men that have +principles. A speech intelligible to the intelligent. But this +Parliament failed of its business, which is no less than introducing the +Christian religion into real practice in the social affairs of this +nation; and dissolved itself after five months. Four days later the +Instrument of Government is issued, naming Oliver Protector of the +Commonwealth, Council of Fifteen, and other needful matters. + + +_IV.--Protector Oliver_ + + +A new Reformed Parliament, elected, with Scotch and Irish +representatives, is to meet on September 3. Parliament meets. Oliver's +speech on September 3 is unreported, but we have that on September 4, +and another eight days later. "You are met for healing and settling. We +are troubled with those who would destroy liberty, and with those who +would overturn all control. This government which has called you, a Free +Parliament, together, has given you peace instead of the foreign wars +that were going on; there remains plenty for you to do." But the +Parliament, instead of doing it, sets to debating the "Form of +Government" and its sanctioning. + +Hence our second speech. "I called not myself to this place. God be +judge between me and all men! I desired to be dismissed of my charge. +That was refused me. Being entreated, I did accept the place and title +of Protector. I do not bear witness to myself. My witnesses are the +officers, the soldiery, the City of London, the counties, the judges; +yea, you yourselves, who have come hither upon my writ. I was the +authority that called you, which you have recognised. I will not have +the authority questioned, nor its fundamental powers. You must sign a +declaration of fidelity to the constitution, or you shall not enter the +Parliament House." + +The Parliament, however, will not devote itself to business; will turn +off on side issues, and continue constitution debating. Therefore, at +the end of five months lunar, not calendar, the Protector makes another +speech. "You have healed nothing, settled nothing; dissettlement and +division, discontent and dissatisfaction are multiplied; real dangers, +too, from Cavalier party, and Anabaptist Levellers. Go!" + +First Protectorate Parliament being ended, the next is not due yet +awhile. The Lord Protector must look to matters which are threatening; +plots on all hands, issuing in Penruddock's insurrection, which is +vigorously dealt with. No easy matter to upset this Protector. He, with +his Council of State, establishes military administration under ten +major-generals; arbitrary enough, but beneficial. + +For war, money is needed, and the second Protectorate Parliament is +summoned--mostly favourable to Cromwell. The Protector addresses it. "We +have enemies about us; the greatest is the Spaniard, because he is the +enemy of God, and has been ours from the time of Queen Elizabeth. +Therefore, we are at war with Spain, all Protestant interests being +therein at one with ours. Danger also there is at home, both from +Cavaliers and Levellers, which necessitates us to erect the +major-generals. For these troubles, the remedies are in the first place +to prosecute the war with Spain vigorously; and in the second, not to +make religion a pretension for arms and blood. All men who believe in +Jesus Christ are members of Jesus Christ; whoever hath this faith, let +his form be what it will, whether he be under Baptism, or of the +Independent judgement, or of the Presbyterian." With much more. A speech +rude, massive, genuine, like a block of unbeaten gold. But the speech +being spoken, members find that, after all, near a hundred of them shall +have no admittance to this Parliament, seeing that this time the nation +shall and must be settled. + +For its wise temper and good practical tendency let us praise this +second Parliament; admit, nevertheless, that its history amounts to +little--that it handsomely did nothing, and left Oliver to do. But it +does propose to modify our constitution, increase the Protector's +powers--make him, in fact, a king--make also a second chamber. To the +perturbation of sundry officers. Out of confusion of documents and +speeches and conferences we extract this--that his highness is not, on +the whole, willing to be called king, because this will give offence to +many godly persons, and be a cause of stumbling. + +The petition being settled, Parliament is prorogued till January, 1658; +when there will be a House of Lords (not the old Peers!), and the +excluded members will be admitted. May there not then be new troubles? +The Spanish Charles Stuart invasion plot is indeed afoot, and that union +abroad of the Protestant powers for which we crave is by no means +accomplished. Therefore, says the Protector, you must be ready to fight +on land as well as by sea. No time this for disunion, trumpery quarrels +over points of form. Yet such debate has begun and continues. + +After this dissolution speech, and a letter as to Vaudois persecution, +there are no more letters or speeches. On September 3, 1658, for him +"the ugly evil is all over, and thy part in it manfully done--manfully +and fruitfully, to all eternity." Oliver is gone, and with him England's +Puritanism. + + * * * * * + + + + +The Life of Friedrich Schiller + + + Carlyle was under thirty years of age, and was occupied as a + private tutor, when he wrote the "Life of Friedrich Schiller; + comprehending an examination of his works," which had been + commissioned by the "London Magazine." It was his first essay + in the study of German literature, which he did so much to + popularise in Britain. It appeared in book form in 1825, and a + second edition was published in 1845 in order to prevent + piratical reprints. In his introduction to the second edition, + Carlyle pleads for the indulgence of the reader, asking him to + remember constantly that "it was written twenty years ago." It + has indeed been superseded by more temperate studies of + Schiller, but its tone of enthusiasm gives it a great value of + its own. + + +_Schiller's Youth_ (1759-1784) + + +Distinguished alike for the splendour of his intellectual faculties, and +the elevation of his tastes and feelings, Friedrich Schiller has left +behind him in his works a noble emblem of these great qualities. Much of +his life was deformed by inquietude and disease, and it terminated at +middle age; he composed in a language then scarcely settled into form; +yet his writings are remarkable for their extent, their variety, and +their intrinsic excellence, and his own countrymen are not his only, or, +perhaps, his principal admirers. + +Born on November 10, 1759, a few months later than Robert Burns, he was +a native of Marbach in Würtemberg. His father had been a surgeon in the +army, and was now in the pay of the Duke of Würtemberg; and the +benevolence, integrity and devoutness of his parents were expanded and +beautified in the character of their son. His education was irregular; +desiring at first to enter the clerical profession, he was put to the +study of law and then of medicine; but he wrenched asunder his fetters +with a force that was felt at the extremities of Europe. In his +nineteenth year he began the tragedy of the "Robbers," and its +publication forms an era in the literature of the world. + +It is a work of tragic interest, bordering upon horror. A grim, +inexpiable Fate is made the ruling principle; it envelops and +overshadows the whole; and under its souring influence, the fiercest +efforts of human will appear but like flashes that illuminate the wild +scene with a brief and terrible splendour, and are lost forever in the +darkness. The unsearchable abysses of man's destiny are laid open before +us, black and profound, and appalling, as they seem to the young mind +when it first attempts to explore them. + +Schiller had meanwhile become a surgeon in the Würtemberg army; and the +Duke, scandalised at the moral errors of the "Robbers," and not less at +its want of literary merit, forbade him to write more poetry. Dalberg, +superintendent of the Manheim theatre, put the play on the stage in +1781, and in October, 1782, Schiller decided his destiny by escaping +secretly from Stuttgart beyond the frontier. A generous lady, Madam von +Wollzogen, invited him to her estate of Bauerbach, near Meiningen. + +Here he resumed his poetical employments, and published, within a year, +the tragedies "Verschwörung des Fiesco" and "Kabale und Liebe." This +"Conspiracy of Fiesco," the story of the political and personal +relations of the Genoese nobility, has the charm of a kind of colossal +magnitude. The chief incidents have a dazzling magnificence; the chief +characters, an aspect of majesty and force. The other play, +"Court-intriguing and Love," is a tragedy of domestic life; it shows the +conflict of cold worldly wisdom with the pure impassioned movements of +the young heart. Now, in September, 1783, Schiller went to Manheim as +poet to the theatre, a post of respectability and reasonable profit. +Here he undertook his "Thalia," a periodical work devoted to poetry and +the drama, in 1784. Naturalised by law in his new country, surrounded by +friends that honoured him, he was now exclusively a man of letters for +the rest of his days. + + +_From His Settlement at Manheim to His Settlement at Jena_ (1783-1790) + + +Schiller had his share of trials to encounter, but he was devoted with +unchanging ardour to the cause he had embarked in. Few men have been +more resolutely diligent than he, and he was warmly seconded by the +taste of the public. For the Germans consider the stage as an organ for +refining the hearts and minds of men, and the theatre of Manheim was one +of the best in Germany. + +Besides composing dramatic pieces and training players, Schiller wrote +poems, the products of a mind brooding over dark and mysterious things, +and his "Philosophic Letters" unfold to us many a gloomy conflict of the +soul, surveying the dark morass of infidelity yet showing no causeway +through it. The first acts of "Don Carlos," printed in "Thalia," had +attracted the attention of the Duke of Sachsen-Weimar, who conferred on +their author the title of Counsellor. Schiller was loved and admired in +Manheim, yet he longed for a wider sphere of action, and he determined +to take up his residence at Leipzig. + +Here he arrived in March, 1785, and at once made innumerable +acquaintances, but went to Dresden in the end of the summer, and here +"Don Carlos" was completed. This, the story of a royal youth condemned +to death by his father, is the first of Schiller's plays to bear the +stamp of maturity. The Spanish court in the sixteenth century; its +rigid, cold formalities; its cruel, bigoted, but proud-spirited +grandees; its inquisitors and priests; and Philip, its head, the epitome +at once of its good and bad qualities, are exhibited with wonderful +distinctness and address. Herr Schiller's genius does not thrill, but +exalts us; it is impetuous, exuberant, majestic. The tragedy was, +received with immediate and universal approbation. + +He now contemplated no further undertaking connected with the stage, but +his mind was overflowing with the elements of poetry, and with these +smaller pieces he occupied himself at intervals through the remainder of +his life. "The Walk," the "Song of the Bell," contain exquisite +delineations of the fortunes of man; the "Cranes of Ibycus," and "Hero +and Leander," are among the most moving ballads in any language. +Schiller never wrote or thought with greater diligence than while at +Dresden. A novel, "The Ghostseer," was a great popular success, but +Schiller had begun to think of history. Very few of his projects in this +direction reached even partial execution; portions of a "History of the +Most Remarkable Conspiracies and Revolutions in the Middle and Later +Ages," and of a "History of the Revolt of the Netherlands," were +published. + +A visit to Weimar, the Athens of Germany, was accomplished in 1787; to +Goethe he was not introduced, but was welcomed by Wieland and Herder. +Thence he went to see his early patroness at Bauerbach, and on this +journey, at Rudolstadt, he met the Fräulein Lengefeld, whose attractions +made him loath to leave and eager to return. The visit was repeated next +year, and this lady honoured him with a return of love. At this time, +too, he first met the illustrious Goethe, whom we may contrast with +Schiller as we should contrast Shakespeare with Milton. Goethe was now +in his thirty-ninth year, Schiller ten years younger, and each affected +the other with feelings of estrangement, almost of repugnance. +Ultimately they liked each other better, and became friends; there are +few things on which Goethe should look back with greater pleasure than +on his treatment of Schiller. + +The "Revolt of the Netherlands," of which the first volume appeared in +1788, is accurate, vivid and coherent, and unites beauty to a calm +force. It happened that the professorship at the University of Jena was +about to be vacant, and through Goethe's solicitations Schiller was +appointed to it in 1789. In the February following he obtained the hand +of Fräulein Lengefeld. "Life is quite a different thing by the side of a +beloved wife," he wrote a few months later; "the world again clothes +itself around me in poetic forms." + + +_From His Settlement at Jena to His Death_ (1790-1805) + + +The duties of his new office called upon Schiller to devote himself with +double zeal to history. We have scarcely any notice of the plan or +success of his academical prelections; his delivery was not +distinguished by fluency or grace, but his matter, we suppose, would +make amends for these deficiencies of manner. His letters breathe a +spirit not only of diligence but of ardour, and he was now busied with +his "History of the Thirty-Years War." This work, published in 1791, is +considered his chief historical treatise, for the "Revolt of the +Netherlands" was never completed. In Schiller's view, the business of +the historian is not merely to record, but also to interpret; his +narrative should be moulded according to the science, and impregnated +with the liberal spirit of his time. + +In one of his letters he says--"The problem is, to choose and arrange +your materials so that, to interest, they shall not need the aid of +decoration. We moderns have a source of interest at our disposal, which +no Greek or Roman was acquainted with, and which the _patriotic_ +interest does not nearly equal. This last, in general, is chiefly of +importance to unripe nations, for the youth of the world. But we may +excite a very different sort of interest if we represent each remarkable +occurrence that happened to _men_ as of importance to _man_. It is a +poor and little aim to write for one nation; the most powerful nation is +but a fragment." + +In 1791, Schiller was overtaken by a violent and threatening disorder in +the chest, and though nature overcame it in the present instance, the +blessing of entire health never returned to him. Total cessation from +intellectual effort was prescribed to him, and his prospect was a hard +one; but the hereditary Prince of Holstein-Augustenberg came to his +assistance with a pension of a thousand crowns for three years, +presented with a delicate politeness which touched Schiller even more +than the gift itself. He bore bodily pain with a strenuous determination +and with an unabated zeal in the great business of his life. No period +of his life displayed more heroism than the present one. + +He now released his connection with the University; his weightiest +duties were discharged by proxy; and his historical studies were +forsaken. His mind was being attracted by the philosophy of Kant. This +transcendental system had filled Germany with violent contentions; +Herder and Wieland were opposing it vehemently; Goethe alone retained +his wonted composure, willing to allow this theory to "have its day, as +all things have." How far Schiller penetrated its arena we cannot say, +but he wrote several essays, imbued in its spirit, upon aesthetic +subjects; notably, "Grace and Dignity," "Naive and Sentimental Poetry," +and "Letters on the Aesthetic Culture of Man." + +The project of an epic poem brought Schiller back to his art; he first +thought of Gustavus Adolphus, then of Frederick the Great of Prussia, +for his hero, and intended to adopt the _ottave rime_, and in general +construction to follow the model of the "Iliad." He did not even begin +to execute this work, but devoted himself instead to the tragedy of +"Wallenstein," which occupied him for several years. Among other +engagements were, the editing of the "Thalia," which was relinquished at +the end of 1793; a new periodical, the "Horen," which began early in +1794; and another, the "Musen-Almanach," in which the collection of +epigrams known as the "Xenien" appeared. In these new publications +Schiller was supported by the co-operation of Goethe. + +"Wallenstein." by far the best work he had yet produced, was given to +the world in 1799. Wallenstein is the model of a high-souled, great, +accomplished man, whose ruling passion is ambition. A shade of horror, +of fateful dreariness, hangs over the hero's death, and except in +Macbeth or Othello we know not where to match it. This tragedy is the +greatest work of its century. + +Schiller now spent his winters in Weimar, and at last lived there +constantly, often staying for months with Goethe. The tragedy of "Maria +Stuart," which appeared in 1800, is a beautiful work, but compared with +"Wallenstein" its purpose is narrow and its result common. It has no +true historical delineation. The "Maid of Orleans," 1801, a tragedy on +the subject of Jeanne d'Arc, will remain one of the very finest of +modern dramas, and its reception was beyond example flattering. It was +followed, in 1803, by the "Bride of Messina," a tragedy which fails to +attain its object; there is too little action in the play and the +interest flags. But "Wilhelm Tell," 1804, exhibits some of the highest +triumphs which Schiller's genius, combined with his art, ever realised. +In Tell are combined all the attributes of a great man, without the help +of education or of great occasions to develop them. The play has a look +of nature and substantial truth, which neither of its rivals can boast +of. Its characters are a race of manly husbandmen, heroic without +ceasing to be homely, poetical without ceasing to be genuine. + +This was Schiller's last work. The spring of 1805 came in cold, bleak +and stormy, and along with it the malady returned. On May 9 the end +came. Schiller died at the age of forty-five years and a few months, +leaving a widow, two sons and two daughters. The news of his death fell +cold on many a heart throughout Europe. + + +_Schiller's Character_ + + +Physically, Schiller was tall and strongly boned, but unmuscular and +lean; his body wasted under the energy of a spirit too keen for it. His +face was pale, the cheeks and temples hollow, the chin projecting, the +nose aquiline, his hair inclined to auburn. Withal his countenance was +attractive, and had a certain manly beauty. To judge from his portraits, +his face expressed the features of his mind: it is mildness tempering +strength; fiery ardour shining through clouds of suffering and +disappointment; it is at once meek, tender, unpretending and heroic. + +In his dress and manner, as in all things, he was plain and unaffected. +Among strangers, shy and retiring; in his own family, or among his +friends, he was kind-hearted, free and gay as a little child. His looks +as he walked were constantly bent on the ground, so that he often failed +to notice a passing acquaintance. + +Schiller's mind was grand by nature, and cultivated by the assiduous +study of a life-time. It is not the predominating force of any one +faculty that impresses us, but the general force of all. His intellect +seems powerful and vast, rather than quick or keen; for he is not +notable for wit, though his fancy is ever prompt with his metaphors, +illustrations and comparisons. Perhaps his greatest faculty was a half +poetical, half philosophical imagination, a faculty teeming with +magnificence and brilliancy; now adorning a stately pyramid of +scientific speculation; now brooding over the abysses of thought and +feeling, till thoughts and feelings, else unutterable, were embodied in +expressive forms. + +Combined with these intellectual faculties was that vehemence of +temperament which is necessary for their full development. Schiller's +heart was at once fiery and tender; impetuous, soft, affectionate, his +enthusiasm clothed the universe with grandeur, and sent his spirit forth +to explore its secrets and mingle warmly in its interests. Thus poetry +in Schiller was not one but many gifts. It was, what true poetry is +always, the quintessence of general mental riches, the purified result +of strong thought and conception, and of refined as well as powerful +emotion. + +His works exhibit rather extraordinary strength than extraordinary +fineness or versatility. His power of dramatic imitation is perhaps +never of the highest; and in its best state, it is further limited to a +certain range of characters. It is with the grave, the earnest, the +exalted, the affectionate, the mournful that he succeeds; he is not +destitute of humour, but neither is he rich in it. + +The sentiments which animated Schiller's poetry were converted into +principles of conduct; his actions were as blameless as his writings +were pure. He was unsullied by meanness, unsubdued by the difficulties +or allurements of life. With the world, in fact, he had not much to do; +without effort, he dwelt apart from it; its prizes were not the wealth +which could enrich him. Wishing not to seem, but to be, envy was a +feeling of which he knew little, even before he rose above its level. To +all men he was humane and sympathising; among his friends, open-hearted, +generous, helpful; in his family tender, kind, sportive. Schiller gives +a fine example of the German character; he has all its good qualities. + +The kingdoms which Schiller conquered were not for one nation at the +expense of suffering to another; they are kingdoms conquered from the +barren realms of Darkness, to increase the happiness, and dignity, and +power, of all men; new forms of Truth, new maxims of Wisdom, new images +and scenes of Beauty, won from the "void and formless Infinite"; a +"possession for ever," to all the generations of the earth. + + * * * * * + + + + +BENVENUTO CELLINI + + +Autobiography + + + Benvenuto Cellini was born in Florence in the year 1500, and + died in the same city on December 13, 1569. He was the + greatest of the craftsmen during the height of the Renaissance + period. Kings and popes vied with each other in trying to + secure his services. His claims to be the king of craftsmen + were admitted by his fellow-artificers, and at the zenith of + his career he had no rivals. Trophies of his skill and + artistic genius remain to confirm the verdict of his own time. + His great bronze statue of Perseus in Florence; the Nymph of + Fontainebleau, now in the Louvre; his golden salt-cellar, made + for Francis I., and now in Vienna--these are a few of his + masterpieces, and any one of them is of a quality to stamp its + maker as a master craftsman of imaginative genius and + extraordinary manual skill. A goldsmith and sculptor, he was + also a soldier, and did service as a fighter and engineer in + the wars of his time. Of high personal courage, he was a + braggart and a ruffian, who used the dagger as freely as the + tools of his craft. His many qualities and complex personality + are revealed in his "Autobiography"--one of the most vivid and + remarkable records ever penned. He began the work in 1558. In + its history his account is accurate, but his testimony + regarding his martial exploits is untrustworthy. + + +_I.--The Making of a Craftsman_ + + +It is a duty incumbent on upright and credible men of all ranks, who +have performed anything noble or praiseworthy, to record the events of +their lives. Looking back on some delightful and happy events, and on +many misfortunes so truly overwhelming that the appalling retrospect +makes me wonder how I have reached my fifty-eighth year in vigour and +prosperity, through God's goodness, I have resolved to publish an +account of my life. + +My name is Benvenuto, the son of Maestro Giovanni Cellini; my mother was +Maria Lisabetta, daughter to Stefano Granacci; and both my parents were +citizens of Florence. My ancestors lived in the valley of Ambra, where +they were lords of considerable domains; they were all trained to arms, +and distinguished for military prowess. Andrea Cellini, my grandfather, +was tolerably well versed in the architecture of those days; and made it +his profession. Giovanni, my father, acquired great proficiency in the +art of designing. + +I was born on All Saints' Day, in the year 1500. A girl was anticipated; +but when my father saw with his own eyes the unexpected boy, clasping +his hands together, he lifted up his eyes to Heaven, saying: "Lord, I +thank Thee from the bottom of my heart for this present, which is very +dear and welcome to me." The standers-by asked him, joyfully, how he +proposed to call the child. He made no other answer than: "He is +Welcome." And this name of Welcome (Benvenuto) he resolved to give me at +the font, and so I was christened accordingly. At the age of fifteen I +engaged myself with a goldsmith called Marcone; and so great was my +inclination to improve that in a few months I rivalled most of the +journeymen in the business. I also practised the art of jewellery at +Siena, Bologna, Lucca, and Pisa, in all of which places I executed +several fine pieces of workmanship, which inspired me with an ardent +desire to become more eminent in my profession. I produced a +basso-relievo in silver, carved with a group of foliages and several +figures of youths, and other beautiful grotesques. This coming under the +inspection of the Goldsmiths' Company of Florence, I acquired the +reputation of the most expert young man in the trade. + +About this time there came to Florence a sculptor named Torrigiano, who +had just returned from England, where he had resided for several years. +Having inspected my drawings and workmanship, Torrigiano offered to take +me to England; but having abused the divine Michael Angelo, whose +exquisite manner I did my utmost to learn, far from having any +inclination to go with him to England, I could never more bear the sight +of him. + +In my nineteenth year I journeyed to Rome, where I went to work under +several masters, studied the antiquities of the city, earned a great +deal of money, and constantly sent the best part of my gains to my +father. At the expiration of two years I returned to Florence, where I +engaged a shop hard by Landi's bank, and executed many works. Envy began +then to rankle in the heart of my former masters, which led to quarrels +and trials before the magistrates. I had to fly back to Rome, disguised +as a friar, on account of a stabbing affray. There I joined Lucagnolo a +goldsmith, and was employed in making plate and jewels by the Cardinals +Cibo, Cornaro, and Salviati, the Bishop of Salamanca, and Signora Porzia +Chigi, and was able to open a shop entirely on my own account. I set +about learning seal engraving, desiring to rival Lautzio, the most +eminent master of that art, the business of medallist, and the elegant +art of enamelling, with the greatest ardour, so that the difficulties +appeared delightful to me. This was through the peculiar indulgence of +the Author of Nature, who had gifted me with a genius so happy that I +could with the utmost ease learn anything to which I gave my mind. + +During the plague in Rome I was seized with the disease, but to my own +great surprise survived that terrific attack. When better, I made some +vases of silver for the eminent surgeon, Giacomo Carti, who afterwards +showed them to the Duke of Ferrara and several other princes, assuring +them that they were antiques, and had been presented to him by a great +nobleman. Others were assured that there had not been a man these 3,000 +years able to make such figures. Encouraged by these declarations, I +confessed that they were my performances, and by this work I made +considerable gain. + + +_II.--A Soldier and Goldsmith_ + + +All Europe was now (1527) up in arms, involved in the wars between +Charles V. of Germany and Francis I. of France. Pope Clement VII. +alternately declared in favour of Charles and Francis, hoping to +preserve the balance of political power in Europe, and disbanded the +troops which had garrisoned Rome. Learning this, Charles, Duke of +Bourbon, Constable of France, advanced with a large army of Germans and +Spaniards through Italy, carrying terror and desolation, and appeared +before the walls of Rome. + +I raised a company of fifty brave young men, whom I led to the Campo +Santo. When the enemy was scaling the walls I determined to perform some +manly action, and, levelling my arquebuse where I saw the thickest +crowd, I discharged it with a deliberate aim at a person who seemed to +be lifted above the rest, and he fell wounded. He was, as I understood +afterwards, the Duke of Bourbon. On another day I shot at and wounded +the Prince of Orange. Leaving the Campo Santo I made for the Castle of +St. Angelo, just as the castellan was letting down the portcullis. When +I found myself on the castle walls, the artillery was deserted by the +bombardiers, and I took direction of the fire of the artillery and +falcons, and killed a considerable number of the enemy. This made some +cardinals and others bless me, and extol my activity to the skies. +Emboldened by this, I used my utmost exertions; let it suffice that it +was I who preserved the castle that morning. I continued to direct the +artillery with such signal execution as to acquire the favour and good +graces of his holiness the Pope. + +One day the Pope happened to walk upon the ramparts, when he saw me fire +a swivel at a Spanish colonel who had formerly been in his service, and +split the man into two pieces. Falling upon my knees, I entreated his +holiness to absolve me from the guilt of homicide and other crimes I had +committed in the castle in the service of the Church. The Pope, lifting +up his hands and making the Sign of the Cross over me, blessed me, and +gave his absolution for all the homicides I had ever committed, or ever +should commit, in the service of the Apostolic Church. After that I kept +up a constant fire, and scarcely once missed all the time. Later, Pope +Clement sent for me to a private apartment, and with his master of the +horse placed before me his regalia, with all the vast quantity of jewels +belonging to the apostolical chamber. I was ordered to take off the gold +in which they were set. I did as directed, and, wrapping up each jewel +in a little piece of paper, we sewed them in the skirts of the Pope's +clothes, and those of the master of the horse. The gold, which amounted +to about a hundred pounds' weight, I was ordered to melt with the utmost +secrecy, which I did, and carried to his holiness without being observed +by anyone. + +A few days after, a treaty was concluded with the Imperialists, and +hostilities ceased. Worn out with my exertions during the siege, I +returned to Florence and thence to Mantua, where, on the introduction of +the excellent painter, Giulio Romano, I executed many commissions for +the duke, including a shrine in gold in which to place the relic of the +Blood of Christ, which the Mantuans boast themselves to be possessed of, +and a pontifical seal for the duke's brother, the bishop. An attack of +fever and a quarrel with the duke induced me to return to Florence, to +find that my father and all belonging to my family, except my youngest +sister and brother, were dead of the plague. I opened a shop in the New +Market, and engraved many medals, which received the highest praise from +the divine Michael Angelo. + +On the invitation of Pope Clement VII. I retired from Florence, and +repaired to Rome. His holiness commissioned me to execute a button for +the pontifical cope, and to set into it the jewels which I had taken out +of the two crowns in the Castle of St. Angelo. The design was most +beautiful, and so pleased and astonished was the Pope that he employed +me to make new coinage, and appointed me stamp-master of the mint. My +gold coins were pronounced by the Pope's secretary to be superior to +those of the Roman emperors. When I finished my great work upon the +pontifical button it was looked upon as the most exquisite performance +of the kind that had ever been seen in Rome The Pope, I thought, would +never tire of praising it, and he appointed me to a post in the College +of Mace-Bearers, which brought me about 200 crowns a year. About this +time a tumult occurred in the city near the bridge of St. Angelo, in +which my soldier brother was wounded, and died the next day. I was +consumed with desire of revenge upon the musketeer who shot him. One +night I saw him standing at his door, and, with a long dagger, hit him +exactly upon the nape of the neck. The weapon penetrated so deep that, +though I made a great effort to recover it again, I found it impossible. +I took refuge in the palace of Duke Alesandro, and more than eight days +afterwards the Pope sent for me. When I came into his presence he +frowned upon me very much. However, upon viewing some work which I +submitted to him, his countenance grew serene, and he praised me highly. +Then, looking attentively at me, he said: "Now that you have recovered +your health, Benvenuto, take care of yourself." I understood his +meaning, and told him I should not neglect his advice. + + +_III.--Intrigues at the Papal Court_ + + +Cardinal Salviati more than once showed himself my enemy. He had sent +from Milan, of which city he was Legate, a goldsmith named Tobbia, as a +great artist, capable, so he said, of humbling the pride of his +holiness's favourite, Benvenuto. Another of my enemies was Pompeo, a +Milanese jeweller, and near relation to his holiness's most favoured +servant. At the instigation of this Pompeo I was deprived of my place in +the mint. On another day Pompeo ran in all haste to the Pope, and said: +"Most Holy Father, Benvenuto has just murdered Tobbia; I saw it with my +own eyes." The Pope flew into a violent passion, and ordered the +governor of Rome to seize and hang me directly. + +The Cardinal de Medici overheard this, and sent a Roman gentleman to +tell me it was impossible to save me, and advising me to fly from Rome. +I took horse, and bent my course instantly towards Naples. Afterwards I +found that Pope Clement had sent one of the two gentlemen of his +bed-chamber to inquire after Tobbia. That gentleman, upon finding Tobbia +at work, reported the real state of the case to the Pope. His holiness +thereupon turned to Pompeo and said: "You are a most abandoned wretch, +but one thing I can assure you of--you have stirred a snake that will +sting you, and that is what you well deserve." + +Arrived in Naples I was received by the viceroy, who showed me a +thousand civilities, and asked me to enter his service. However, having +received a letter from the Cardinal de Medici to return to Rome without +loss of time, I repaired thither on horseback. On reaching my own house +I finished a medal with the head of Pope Clement, and on the reverse a +figure representing Peace, and stamped upon gold, silver, and copper. +His holiness, when presented with the medals, told me they were very +fine, that he was highly pleased with them, and asked me to make another +reverse representing Moses striking the rock, and the water issuing from +it. This I did. + +Three days afterwards, Pope Clement died. I put on my sword, and +repaired to St. Peter's, where I kissed the feet of the deceased +pontiff, and could not refrain from tears. On returning, near the Campo +di Fiore, I met my adversary Pompeo, encircled with his bravoes. I +thereupon clapped my hand to a sharp dagger, forced my way through the +file of ruffians, laid hold of Pompeo by the throat, struck him under +the ear, and, upon repeating my blow, he fell down dead. I escaped, and +was protected by Cardinal Cornaro in his own palace. + +A few days after, Cardinal Farnese was elected as Pope Paul III. The new +pontiff inquired after me, and declared he would employ nobody else to +stamp his coins, A gentleman said that I was obliged to abscond for +having killed one Pompeo in a fray, to which the Pope made answer: "I +never heard of the death of Pompeo, but I have often heard of +Benvenuto's provocation; so let a safe-conduct be instantly made out, +and that will secure him from all other manner of dangers." A Milanese, +who was a favourite of the pontiff, told his holiness that it might be +of dangerous consequence to grant such favours immediately on being +raised to his new dignity. The Pope instantly said: "You do not +understand these matters; I must inform you that men who are masters in +their profession, like Benvenuto, should not be subject to the laws; but +he less than any other, for I am sensible that he was in the right in +the whole affair." So I entered into the Pope's service. + +However, the Pope's natural son having become my enemy, and having +employed a Corsican soldier to assassinate me, I escaped to Florence, +where I was appointed master of the mint by Duke Alessandro de Medici. +The coins which I stamped, with the duke's head on one side and a saint +on the other, his excellency declared were the finest in Christendom. +Shortly after I received from Rome an ample safe-conduct from the Pope, +directing me to repair forthwith to that city at the celebration of the +Feast of the Virgin Mary. This I did, and the Pope granted me a patent +of pardon for killing Pompeo, and caused it to be registered in the +Capitol. + +About this time Charles V. returned victorious from his enterprise +against Tunis. When he made his triumphant entry into Rome he was +received with great pomp, and I was nominated by his holiness to carry +his presents of massive gold work and jewels, executed by myself, to the +emperor, who invited me to his court and ordered five hundred gold +crowns to be given me. Stories to my prejudice having been carried to +his holiness, I felt myself to be neglected, and set out for France, but +made no stay there, and returned to Rome. Here I was accused falsely by +a Perugian servant of being possessed of great treasure, the greatest +part of which was said to consist of jewels which belonged to the +Church, and whose booty I had possessed myself of in the Castle of St. +Angelo at the time of the sack of Rome. At the instigation of Pier +Luigi, the Pope's illegitimate son, I was taken as prisoner to the +Castle of St. Angelo, where I was put under examination by the governor +of Rome and other magistrates. I vindicated myself, saying that I got +nothing else in the Church's service at the melancholy sack of Rome but +wounds. + +Accurate inquiry having been made, none of the Pope's jewels were found +missing; but I was left a prisoner in the castle, from which I made a +marvellous escape, only to be consigned again, at the instigation of +Luigi, to the deepest subterranean cell. I would have destroyed myself, +but I had wonderful revelations and visions of St. Peter, who pleaded my +cause with the beautiful Virgin Mary holding Christ in her arms. The +constable informed the Pope of the extraordinary things which I declared +I had seen. The pontiff, who neither believed in God nor in any other +article of religion, sent word that I was mad, and advised him to think +no more about me, but mind his own soul. + + +_IV.--At the French Court_ + + +About this time the Cardinal of Ferrara came to Rome from the court of +France, and in the name of King Francis urged my release, to which he +got the Pope's consent during a convivial meeting without the knowledge +of Luigi. The Pope's order was brought to the prison at night, and I was +conducted to the palace of the Cardinal. The Cardinal was summoned by +Francis I. to Paris, and to bring me with him. + +The French king received me graciously, and I presented him with a cup +and basin which I had executed for his majesty, who declared that +neither the ancients nor the greatest masters of Italy had ever worked +in so exquisite a taste. His majesty ordered me to make him twelve +silver statues. They were to be figures of six gods and six goddesses, +made exactly to his own height, which was very little less than three +cubits. I began zealously to make a model of Jupiter. Next day I showed +him in his palace the model of my great salt-cellar, which he called a +noble production, and commissioned me to make it in gold, commanding +that I should be given directly a thousand old gold crowns, good weight. + +As a mark of distinction, the king granted me letters of naturalisation +and a patent of lordship of the Castle of Nesle. Later, I submitted to +the king models of the new palace gates and the great fountain for +Fontainebleau, which appeared to him to be exceedingly beautiful. +Unluckily for me, his favourite, Madame d'Estampes, conceived a deep +resentment at my neglect for not taking notice of her in any of my +designs. When the silver statue of Jupiter was finished and set up in +the corridor of Fontainebleau alongside reproductions in bronze of all +the first-rate antiques recently discovered in Rome, the king cried out: +"This is one of the finest productions of art that was ever beheld; I +could never have conceived a piece of work the hundredth part so +beautiful. From a comparison with these admirable antique figures, it is +evident that this statue of Jupiter is vastly superior to them." + +Madame d'Estampes was more highly incensed than ever, but the king said +I was one of the ablest men the world had ever produced. The king +ordered me a thousand crowns, partly as a recompense for my labours, and +partly in payment of some disbursed by myself. I afterwards set about +finishing my colossal statue of Mars, which was to occupy the centre of +the fountain at Fontainebleau, and represented the king. Madame +d'Estampes continuing her spiteful artifices, I requested the Cardinal +of Ferrara to procure leave for me to make a tour to Italy, promising to +return whenever the king should think proper to signify his pleasure. I +departed in an unlucky hour, leaving under the care of my journeymen my +castle and all my effects; but all the way I could not refrain from +sighing and weeping. + +At this time Cosmo, Duke of Florence, resided at Poggio Cajano, a place +ten miles from Florence. I there waited upon him to pay my respects, and +he and his duchess received me with the greatest kindness. At the duke's +request I undertook to make a great statue of Perseus delivering +Andromeda from the Medusa. A site was found for me to erect a house in +which I might set up my furnaces, and carry on a variety of works both +of clay and bronze, and of gold and silver separately. While making +progress with my great statue of Perseus, I executed my golden vases, +girdles, and other jewels for the Duchess of Florence, and also a +likeness of the duke larger than life. + +For a time I discontinued working upon marble statues and went on with +Perseus, and eventually I triumphed over all the difficulties of casting +it in bronze, although the shop took fire at the critical moment, and +the sky poured in so much rain and wind that my furnace was cooled. I +was so highly pleased that my work had succeeded so well that I went to +Pisa to pay my respects to the duke, who received me in the most +gracious manner, while the duchess vied with him in kindness to me. + + +_V.--His Later Life in Florence_ + + +About this time the war with Siena broke out, and at the request of the +duke I carried out the repair of the fortifications of two of the gates +of the city of Florence. At last my statue of Perseus was erected in the +great square, and was shown to the populace, who set up so loud a shout +of applause that I began to be comforted for the mortifications I had +undergone. Sonnets and Latin and Greek odes were hung upon the gates in +praise of my performance, but what gave me the highest satisfaction was +that statuaries and painters emulated each other in commending it. Two +days having passed, I paid a visit to the duke, who said to me with +great complaisance: "My friend Benvenuto, you have given me the highest +satisfaction imaginable, and I promise to reward you in such a manner as +to excite your surprise." I shed tears of joy, and kissing the hem of +his excellency's garment, addressed him thus: "My most noble lord, +liberal patron of the arts, I beg leave to retire for a week to return +thanks to the Supreme Being, for I know how hard I have worked, and I am +sensible that my faith has prevailed with God to grant me His +assistance." Permission was given, and I made the pilgrimage to +Vallombrosa and Camaldoli, incessantly singing psalms and saying prayers +to the honour and glory of God. + +On my return there were great differences between the duke and myself as +to the reward to be given me for the statue of Perseus, during which the +duchess and the sculptor Bandinello interposed. Bandinello declared that +the work had proved so admirable a masterpiece, that, in his opinion, it +was worth 16,000 gold crowns and upwards. When the duke was informed of +this decision he was highly displeased, and down to the close of the +year 1566 I received no more than 3,000 gold crowns, given to me monthly +by payments of 25, 50, or 100 crowns. + +Subsequently, I was employed to erect two pulpits in the choir of St. +Maria del Fiore, and adorn them with historical figures in basso-relievo +of bronze, together with varieties of other embellishments. About this +period, the great block of marble, intended for the gigantic statue of +Neptune, to be placed near the fountain on the Ducal Piazza, was brought +up the River Arno, and thence by road to Florence. A competition took +place between the model which I had made for the statue of Neptune and +that designed by Bandinello. The duchess, who had become my implacable +enemy, favoured Bandinello, and I waited upon her, carrying to her some +pretty trifles of my making, which her excellency liked very much. Then +I added that I had undertaken one of the most laborious tasks in the +world--the carving of a Christ crucified, of the whitest marble, upon a +cross of the blackest, and as large as the life. Upon her asking me what +I proposed doing with it, I said I would freely make her a present of +it; that all I desired was that she would be neutral with respect to the +model of the Neptune which the duke had ordered to be made. + +When I had finished the model of Neptune, the duke came to see it. It +gave him high satisfaction, and he said I deserved the prize. Some weeks +later, Bandinello died, and it was generally thought that the grief +which he felt at losing the fine piece of marble out of which the statue +of Neptune was to be made greatly contributed to hasten his dissolution. +When I was working at my great model of Neptune, I was seized with +illness, caused by a dose of sublimate poison administered in food by a +man named Sbietta and his brother, a profligate priest, from whom I had +bought the annuity of a farm. Upon my recovery the duke and the duchess +came unexpectedly with a grand retinue to my workshop to see the image +of Christ upon the Cross, and it pleased them so greatly that they +bestowed the highest encomiums on me. Though I had undergone infinite +labour in its execution, yet with pleasure I made them a present of it, +thinking none more worthy of that fine piece of work than their +excellencies. They talked a long time in praise of my abilities, and the +duchess seemed, as it were, to ask pardon for her past treatment of me. + +At this juncture the Queen Dowager of France, Catherine de Medici, +dispatched Signor Baccio del Bene on a mission to our duke. The signor +and I were intimate friends, and he told me that the queen had a strong +desire to finish the sepulchral monument to her husband, King Henry, and +if I chose to return to France and again take possession of my castle, I +should be supplied with whatever I wanted, in case I was willing to +serve her majesty. But when this was communicated to the duke, his +excellency said he meant to keep me in his own service; and the Queen of +France, who had received a loan of money from the duke, did not propose +the thing any more for fear of offending him; so I was obliged to stay, +much against my will. + +The last entry in Benvenuto Cellini's manuscript is the announcement of +a journey made by Duke Cosmo with his whole court, including his +brother, the Cardinal de Medici, to Pisa, where the latter was attacked +by "a malignant fever, which in a few days put an end to his life. The +cardinal was one of the duke's chief supporters, and highly beloved by +him, being a person of great virtues and abilities. Consequently, his +loss was severely felt." + +In 1554, Benvenuto had been admitted to the ranks of the Florentine +nobility. In 1560 he married Piera, the woman named in his will, who +nursed him through his illness from the poison administered by the +Sbietta family. By her he had five children, two of whom died in +infancy. In 1561, Duke Cosmo made him a grant of a house near San Croce, +in the Via Rosajo, Florence, "in consideration of his admirable talents +in casting, sculpture, and other branches of art." The patent continues: +"We look upon his productions, both in marble and bronze, as evident +proofs of his surpassing genius and incomparable skill." + +Benvenuto was deputed by the sculptors of Florence to attend the +obsequies of his great master and friend, Michael Angelo Buonarroti, who +had died on February 18, 1564. Benvenuto died on December 13, 1569, and +was buried by his own direction in the Chapter House of the Church of +the Annunziata, Florence, with great pomp. + + * * * * * + + + + +CHATEAUBRIAND + + +Memoirs From Beyond the Grave + + + The "Mémoires d'Outre-Tombe," which was partly published + before Chateaubriand's death, represents a work spread over a + great part of Chateaubriand's life, and reveals as no other of + his books the innermost personality of the man. + (Chateaubriand, biography: see FICTION.) + + +_I.--Youth and Its Follies_ + + +Four years ago, on my return from the Holy Land, I purchased a little +country house, situated near the hamlet of Aulnay, in the vicinity of +Sceaux and Chatenay. The house is in a valley, encircled by thickly +wooded hills. The ground attached to this habitation is a sort of wild +orchard. These narrow confines seem to me to be fitting boundaries of my +long-protracted hopes. I have selected the trees, as far as I was able, +from the various climes I have visited. They remind me of my wanderings. + +Knight-errant as I am, I have the sedentary tastes of a monk. It was +here I wrote the "Martyrs," the "Abencerrages," the "Itinéraire," and +"Moise." To what shall I devote myself in the evenings of the present +autumn? This day, October 4, being the anniversary of my entrance into +Jerusalem, tempts me to commence the history of my life. + +I am of noble descent, and I have profited by the accident of my birth, +inasmuch as I have retained that firm love of liberty which +characterises the members of an aristocracy whose last hour has sounded. +Aristocracy has three successive ages--the age of superiority, the age +of privilege, and the age of vanity. Having emerged from the first age, +ft degenerates in the second age, and perishes in the third. + +When I was a young man, and learned the meaning of love, I was a mystery +to myself. All my days were _adieux_. I could not see a woman without +being troubled. I blushed if one spoke to me. My timidity, already +excessive towards everyone, became so great with a woman that I would +have preferred any torment whatsoever to that of remaining alone with +one. She was no sooner gone than I would have recalled her with all my +heart. Had anyone delivered to me the most beautiful slaves of the +seraglio, I should not have known what to say to them. Accident +enlightened me. + +Had I done as other men do, I should sooner have learned the pleasures +and pains of passion, the germ of which I carried in myself; but +everything in me assumed an extraordinary character. The warmth of +imagination, my bashfulness and solitude, caused me to turn back upon +myself. For want of a real object, by the power of my vague desires, I +evoked a phantom which never quitted me more. I know not whether the +history of the human heart furnishes another example of this kind. + +I pictured then to myself an ideal beauty, moulded from the various +charms of all the women I had seen. I gave her the eyes of one young +village girl, and the rosy freshness of another. This invisible +enchantress constantly attended me; I communed with her as with a real +being. She varied at the will of my wandering fancy. Now she was Diana +clothed in azure, now Aphrodite unveiled, now Thalia with her laughing +mask, now Hebe bearing the cup of eternal youth. + +A young queen approaches, brilliant with diamonds and flowers--this was +always my sylph. She seeks me at midnight, amidst orange groves, in the +corridors of a palace washed by the waves, on the balmy shore of Naples +or Messina; the light sound of her footsteps on the mosaic floor mingles +with the scarcely heard murmur of the waves. + +Awaking from these my dreams, and finding myself a poor little obscure +Breton, who would attract the eyes of no one, despair seized upon me. I +no longer dared to raise my eyes to the brilliant phantom which I had +attached to my every step. This delirium lasted for two whole years. I +spoke little; my taste for solitude redoubled. I showed all the symptoms +of a violent passion. I was absent, sad, ardent, savage. My days passed +on in wild, extravagant, mad fashion, which nevertheless had a peculiar +charm. + +I have now reached a period at which I require some strength of mind to +confess my weakness. I had a gun, the worn-out trigger of which often +went off unexpectedly. I loaded this gun with three balls, and went to a +spot at a considerable distance from the great Mall. I cocked the gun, +put the end of the barrel into my mouth, and struck the butt-end against +the ground. I repeated the attempt several times, but unsuccessfully. +The appearance of a gamekeeper interrupted me in my design. I was a +fatalist, though without my own intention or knowledge. Supposing that +my hour was not yet come, I deferred the execution of my project to +another day. + +Any whose minds are troubled by these delineations should remember that +they are listening to the voice of one who has passed from this world. +Reader, whom I shall never know, of me there is nothing--nothing but +what I am in the hands of the living God. + +A few weeks later I was sent for one morning. My father was waiting for +me in his cabinet. + +"Sir," said he, "you must renounce your follies. Your brother has +obtained for you a commission as ensign in the regiment of Navarre. You +must presently set out for Rennes, and thence to Cambray. Here are a +hundred louis-d'or; take care of them. I am old and ill--I have no long +time to live. Behave like a good man, and never dishonour your name." + +He embraced me. I felt the hard and wrinkled face pressed with emotion +against mine. This was my father's last embrace. + +The mail courier brought me to my garrison. Having joined the regiment +in the garb of a citizen, twenty-four hours afterwards I assumed that of +a soldier; it appeared as if I had worn it always. I was not fifteen +days in the regiment before I became an officer. I learned with facility +both the exercise and the theory of arms. I passed through the offices +of corporal and sergeant with the approbation of my instructors. My +rooms became the rendezvous of the old captains, as well as of the young +lieutenants. + +The same year in which I went through my first training in arms at +Cambray brought news of the death of Frederic II. I am now ambassador to +the nephew of this great king, and write this part of my memoirs in +Berlin. This piece of important public news was succeeded by another, +mournful to me. It was announced to me that my father had been carried +off by an attack of apoplexy. + +I lamented M. de Chateaubriand. I remembered neither his severity nor +his weakness. If my father's affection for me partook of the severity of +his character, in reality it was not the less deep. My brother announced +to me that I had already obtained the rank of captain of cavalry, a rank +entitling me to honour and courtesy. + +A few days later I set out to be presented at the first court in Europe. +I remember my emotion when I saw the king at Versailles. When the king's +levée was announced, the persons not presented withdrew. I felt an +emotion of vanity; I was not proud of remaining, but I should have felt +humiliated at having to retire. The royal bed-chamber door opened; I saw +the king, according to custom, finishing his toilet. He advanced, on his +way to the chapel, to hear mass. I bowed, Marshal de Duras announcing my +name--"Sire, le Chevalier de Chateaubriand." + +The king graciously returned my salutation, and seemed to wish to +address me; but, more embarrassed than I, finding nothing to say to me, +he passed on. This sovereign was Louis XVI., only six years before he +was brought to the scaffold. + + +_II.--In the Years of Revolution_ + + +My political education was begun by my residence, at different times, in +Brittany in the years 1787 and 1788. The states of this province +furnished the model of the States-General; and the particular troubles +which broke out in the provinces of Brittany and Dauphiny were the +forerunners of those of the nation at large. + +The change which had been developing for two hundred years was then +reaching its limits. France was rapidly tending to a representative +system by means of a contest of the magistracy with the royal power. + +The year 1789, famous in the history of France, found me still on the +plains of my native Brittany. I could not leave the province till late +in the year, and did not reach Paris till after the pillage of the +Maison Reveillon, the opening of the States-General, the constitution of +the Tièrs-État in the National Assembly, the oath of the Jeu-de-Paume, +the royal council of the 23rd of June, and the junction of the clergy +and nobility in the Tièrs-État. The court, now yielding, now attempting +to resist, allowed itself to be browbeaten by Mirabeau. + +The counter-blow to that struck at Versailles was felt at Paris. On July +14 the Bastille was taken. I was present as a spectator at this event. +If the gates had been kept shut the fortress would never have been +taken. De Launay, dragged from his dungeon, was murdered on the steps of +the Hôtel de Ville. Flesselles, the _prevôt des marchands_, was shot +through the head. Such were the sights delighted in by heartless saintly +hypocrites. In the midst of these murders the people abandoned +themselves to orgies similar to those carried on in Rome during the +troubles under Otto and Vitellius. The monarchy was demolished as +rapidly as the Bastille in the sitting of the National Assembly on the +evening of August 4. + +My regiment, quartered at Rouen, preserved its discipline for some time. +But at length insurrection broke out among the soldiers in Navarre. The +Marquis de Mortemar emigrated; the officers followed him. I had neither +adopted nor rejected the new opinions; I neither wished to emigrate nor +to continue my military career. I therefore retired, and I decided to go +to America. + +I sailed for that land, and my heart beat when we sighted the American +coast, faintly traced by the tops of some maple-trees emerging, as it +were, from the sea. A pilot came on board and we sailed into the +Chesapeake and soon set foot on American soil. + +At that time I had a great admiration for republics, though I did not +believe them possible in our era of the world. My idea of liberty +pictured her such as she was among the ancients, daughter of the manners +of an infant society. I knew her not as the daughter of enlightenment +and the civilisation of centuries; as the liberty whose reality the +representative republic has proved--God grant it may be durable! We are +no longer obliged to work in our own little fields, to curse arts and +sciences, if we would be free. + +I met General Washington. He was tall, calm, and cold rather than noble +in mien; the engravings of him are good. We sat down, and I explained to +him as well as I could the motive of my journey. He answered me in +English and French monosyllables, and listened to me with a sort of +astonishment. I perceived this, and said to him with some warmth: "But +is it less difficult to discover the north-west passage than to create a +nation as you have done?" + +"Well, well, young man!" cried he, holding out his hand to me. He +invited me to dine with him on the following day, and we parted. I took +care not to fail in my appointment. The conversation turned on the +French Revolution, and the general showed us a key of the Bastille. Such +was my meeting with the citizen soldier--the liberator of a world. + + +_III.--Paris in the Reign of Terror_ + + +In 1792, when I returned to Paris, it no longer exhibited the same +appearance as in 1789 and 1790. It was no longer the new-born +Revolution, but a people intoxicated, rushing on to fulfil its destiny +across abysses and by devious ways. The appearance of the people was no +longer curious and eager, but threatening. + +The king's flight on June 21, 1791, gave an immense impulse to the +Revolution. Having been brought back to Paris on June 25, he was +dethroned for the first time, in consequence of the declaration of the +National Assembly that all its decrees should have the force of law, +without the king's concurrence or assent. I visited several of the +"Clubs." + +The scenes at the Cordeliers, at which I was three or four times +present, were ruled and presided over by Danton--a Hun, with the nature +of a Goth. + +Faithful to my instincts, I had returned from America to offer my sword +to Louis XVI., not to involve myself in party intrigues. I therefore +decided to "emigrate." Brussels was the headquarters of the most +distinguished _émigrés_. There I found my trifling baggage, which had +arrived before me. The coxcomb _émigrés_ were hateful to me. I was eager +to see those like myself, with 600 livres income. + +My brother remained at Brussels as an aide-de-camp to the Baron de +Montboissier. I set out alone for Coblentz, went up the Rhine to that +city, but the royal army was not there. Passing on, I fell in with the +Prussian army between Coblentz and Treves. My white uniform caught the +king's eye. He sent for me; he and the Duke of Brunswick took off their +hats, and in my person saluted the old French army. + + +_IV.--The Army of Princes_ + + +I was almost refused admission into the army of princes, for there were +already too many gallant men ready to fight. But I said I had just come +from America to have the honour of serving with old comrades. The matter +was arranged, the ranks were opened to receive me, and the only +remaining difficulty was where to choose. I entered the 7th company of +the Bretons. We had tents, but were in want of everything else. + +Our little army marched for Thionville. We went five or six leagues a +day. The weather was desperate. We began the siege of Thionville, and in +a few days were reinforced by Austrian cannon and cannoneers. The +besieged made an attack on us, and in this action we had several wounded +and some killed. We relinquished the siege of Thionville and set out for +Verdun, which had surrendered to the allies. The passage of Frederic +William was attested on all sides by garlands and flowers. In the midst +of these trophies of peace I observed the Prussian eagle displayed on +the fortifications of Verdun. It was not to remain long; as for the +flowers, they were destined to fade, like the innocent creatures who had +gathered them. One of the most atrocious murders of the reign of terror +was that of the young girls of Verdun. + +"Fourteen young girls of Verdun, of rare beauty, and almost like young +virgins dressed for a public fête, were," says Riouffe, "led in a body +to the scaffold. I never saw among us any despair like that which this +infamous act excited." + +I had been wounded during the siege of Thionville, and was suffering +badly. While I was asleep, a splinter from a shell struck me on the +right thigh. Roused by the stroke, but not being sensible of the pain, I +only saw that I was wounded by the appearance of the blood. I bound up +my thigh with my handkerchief. At four in the morning we thought the +town had surrendered, but the gates were not opened, and we were obliged +to think of a retreat. We returned to our positions after a harassing +march of three days. While these drops of blood were shed under the +walls of Thionville, torrents were flowing in the prisons of Paris; my +wife and sisters were in greater danger than myself. + +At Verdun, fever after my wound undermined my strength, and smallpox +attacked me. Yet I began a journey on foot of two hundred leagues, with +only eighteen livres in my pocket. All for the glory of the monarchy! I +intended to try to reach Ostend, there to embark for Jersey, and thence +to join the royalists in Brittany. Breaking down on the road, I lay +insensible for two hours, swooning away with a feeling of religion. The +last noise I heard was the whistling of a bullfinch. Some drivers of the +Prince de Ligne's waggons saw me, and in pity lifted me up and carried +me to Namur. Others of the prince's people carried me to Brussels. Here +I found my brother, who brought a surgeon and a doctor to attend to me. +He told me of the events of August 10, of the massacres of September, +and other political news of which I had not heard. He approved of my +intention to go to Jersey, and lent me twenty-five louis-d'or. We were +looking on each other for the last time. + +After reaching Jersey, I was four months dangerously ill in my uncle's +house, where I was tenderly nursed. Recovering, I went in 1793 to +England, landing as a poor émigré where now, in 1822, I write these +memoirs, and enjoy the dignity of ambassador. + + +_V.--Letters from the Dead_ + + +Several of my family fell victims to the Revolution. I learned in July, +1783, that my mother, after having been thrown, at the age of +seventy-two, into a dungeon, where she witnessed the death of some of +her children, expired at length on a pallet, to which her misfortunes +had consigned her. The thoughts of my errors greatly embittered her last +days, and on her death-bed she charged one of my sisters to reclaim me +to the religion in which I had been educated. My sister Julie +communicated my mother's last wish to me. When this letter reached me in +my exile, my sister herself was no more; she, too, had sunk beneath the +effects of her imprisonment. These two voices, coming as it were from +the grave--the dead interpreting the dead--had a powerful effect on me. +I became a Christian. I did not, indeed, yield to any great supernatural +light; my conviction came from my heart; I wept, I believed. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD + + +Letters to His Son + + + A capable statesman, an accomplished diplomatist, and the + courtliest and best-bred man of his century, Philip Dormer + Stanhope, fourth Earl of Chesterfield, born on September 22, + 1694, and dead March 24, 1773, would have been almost + forgotten at the present day but for the preservation of his + letters to his natural son, Philip Stanhope. It was the + ambition of Lord Chesterfield's life that this young man + should be a paragon of learning and manners. In a voluminous + series of letters, more than 400 of which are preserved, his + father minutely directed his classical and political studies, + and, above all, instructed him with endless insistence as to + his bearing in society, impressed upon him the importance of + good breeding, the "graces," and the general deportment + required of a person of quality. The letters are a classic of + courtliness and worldly wisdom. They were prepared for the + press by Philip Stanhope's widow, and were published in 1774, + under the title of "Letters Written by the Earl of + Chesterfield, together with Several other Pieces on Various + Subjects." Since then many editions have appeared, bearing + such titles as "The Fine Gentleman," "The Elements of Polite + Education," etc. + + +_I.--On Manners and Address_ + + +London, _December_ 29, 1747. I have received two letters from you of the +17th and 22nd, by the last of which I find that some of mine to you must +have miscarried; for I have never been above two posts without writing +to you or to Mr. Harte, and even very long letters. I have also received +a letter from Mr. Harte, which gives me great satisfaction; it is full +of your praises. + +Your German will go on, of course; and I take it for granted that your +stay at Leipsig will make you a perfect master of that language, both as +to speaking and writing; for remember, that knowing any language +imperfectly is very little better than not knowing it at all, people +being as unwilling to speak in a language which they do not possess +thoroughly as others are to hear them. + +Go to the Duchess of Courland's as often as she and your leisure will +permit. The company of women of fashion will improve your manners, +though not your understanding; and that complaisance and politeness, +which are so useful in men's company, can only be acquired in women's. + +Remember always what I have told you a thousand times, that all the +talents in the world will want all their lustre, and some part of their +use, too, if they are not advanced with that easy good-breeding, that +engaging manner, and those graces, which seduce and prepossess people in +your favour at first sight. A proper care of your person is by no means +to be neglected; always extremely clean; upon proper occasions, fine. +Your carriage genteel, and your motions graceful. Take particular care +of your manners and address when you present yourself in company. Let +them be respectful without meanness, easy without too much familiarity, +genteel without affectation, and insinuating without any seeming art or +design.... Adieu! + + +_II.--On the Art of Pleasing_ + + +_Bath, March_ 9, 1748. I must from time to time remind you of what I +have often recommended to you, and of what you cannot attend to too +much: sacrifice to the graces. Intrinsic merit alone will not do; it +will gain you the general esteem of all, but not the particular +affection, that is the heart, of any. To engage the affections of any +particular person you must, over and above your general merit, have some +particular merit to that person; by services done, or offered; by +expressions of regard and esteem; by complaisance, attentions, etc., for +him; and the graceful manner of doing all these things opens the way to +the heart, and facilitates, or rather, insures, their effects. + +A thousand little things, not separately to be described, conspire to +form these graces, this _je ne scais quoi,_ that always pleases. A +pretty person, a proper degree of dress, an harmonious voice, something +open and cheerful in the countenance, but without laughing; a distinct +and properly varied manner of speaking; all these things and many others +are necessary ingredients in the composition of the pleasing _je ne +scais quoi_, which everybody feels, though nobody can describe. Observe +carefully, then, what displeases or pleases you in others, and be +persuaded that, in general, the same things will please or displease +them in you. + +Having mentioned laughing, I must particularly warn you against it; and +I would heartily wish that you may often be seen to smile, but never +heard to laugh while you live. Frequent and loud laughter is the +characteristic of folly and ill-manners; it is the manner in which the +mob express their silly joy at silly things; and they call it being +merry. In my mind there is nothing so illiberal, and so ill-bred, as +audible laughter. I am neither of a melancholy nor a cynical +disposition, and am as willing and as apt to be pleased as anybody; but +I am sure that since I have had the full use of my reason nobody has +ever heard me laugh. Many people, at first, from awkwardness and +_mauvaise honte_, have got a very disagreeable and silly trick of +laughing whenever they speak. + +This, and many other very disagreeable habits, are owing to _mauvaise +honte_ at their first setting out in the world. They are ashamed in +company, and so disconcerted that they do not know what they do, and try +a thousand tricks to keep themselves in countenance; which tricks +afterwards grow habitual to them. Some put their fingers in their nose, +others scratch their heads, others twirl their hats; in short, every +awkward, ill-bred body has its tricks. But the frequency does not +justify the thing, and all these vulgar habits and awkwardness are most +carefully to be guarded against, as they are great bars in the way of +the art of pleasing. + +_London, September_ 5, 1748. I have received yours, with the enclosed +German letter to Mr. Grevenkop, which he assures me is extremely well +written, considering the little time that you have applied yourself to +that language. + +St. Thomas's Day now draws near, when you are to leave Saxony and go to +Berlin. Berlin will be entirely a new scene to you, and I look upon it, +in a manner, as your first step into the great world; take care that +step be not a false one, and that you do not stumble at the threshold. +You will there be in more company than you have yet been; manners and +attentions will, therefore, be more necessary. + +You will best acquire these by frequenting the companies of people of +fashion; but then you must resolve to acquire them, in those companies, +by proper care and observation. When you go into good company--by good +company is meant the people of the first fashion of the place--observe +carefully their turn, their manners, their address; and conform your own +to them. But this is not all either; go deeper still; observe their +characters, and pry into both their hearts and their heads. Seek for +their particular merit, their predominant passion, or their prevailing +weakness; and you will then know what to bait your hook with to catch +them. + +As women are a considerable, or, at least, a pretty numerous part of +company; and as their suffrages go a great way towards establishing a +man's character in the fashionable part of the world, which is of great +importance to the fortune and figure he proposes to make in it, it is +necessary to please them. I will, therefore, upon this subject, let you +into certain _arcana_ that will be very useful for you to know, but +which you must, with the utmost care, conceal and never seem to know. + +Women, then, are only children of a larger growth; they have an +entertaining tattle, and sometimes wit; but for solid reasoning, good +sense, I never knew in my life one that had it, or who reasoned or acted +consequentially for four-and-twenty hours together. Some little passion +or humour always breaks in upon their best resolutions. Their beauty +neglected or controverted, their age increased or their supposed +understandings depreciated, instantly kindles their little passions, and +overturns any system of consequential conduct that in their most +reasonable moments they have been capable of forming. A man of sense +only trifles with them, plays with them, humours and flatters them, as +he does with a sprightly, forward child; but he neither consults them +about nor trusts them with, serious matters; though he often makes them +believe that he does both, which is the thing in the world that they are +proud of. + +But these are secrets, which you must keep inviolably, if you would not, +like Orpheus, be torn to pieces by the whole sex. On the contrary, a man +who thinks of living in the great world must be gallant, polite, and +attentive to please the women. They have, from the weakness of men, more +or less influence in all courts; they absolutely stamp every man's +character in the _beau monde,_ and make it either current, or cry it +down, and stop it in payment. + +It is, therefore, absolutely necessary to manage, please, and flatter +them; and never to discover the least mark of contempt, which is what +they never forgive; but in this they are not singular, for it is the +same with men, who will much sooner forgive an injustice than an insult. + +These are some of the hints which my long experience in the great world +enables me to give you, and which, if you attend to them, may prove +useful to you in your journey through it. I wish it may be a prosperous +one; at least, I am sure that it must be your own fault if it is not. + + +_III.--The Secret of Good Breeding_ + + +_London, November_ 3, 1749. From the time that you have had life, it has +been the principal and favourite object of mine to make you as perfect +as the imperfections of human nature will allow. In this view, I have +grudged no pains nor expense in your education, convinced that +education, more than nature, is the cause of that great difference which +you see in the characters of men. While you were a child I endeavoured +to form your heart habitually to virtue and honour, before your +understanding was capable of showing you their beauty and utility. Those +principles, which you then got, like your grammar rules, only by rote, +are now, I am persuaded, fixed and confirmed by reason. + +My next object was sound and useful learning. All that remains for me +then to wish, to recommend, to inculcate, to order, and to insist upon, +is good breeding, without which all your other qualifications will be +lame, unadorned, and to a certain degree unavailing. And here I fear, +and have too much reason to believe, that you are greatly deficient. The +remainder of this letter, therefore, shall be--and it will not be the +last by a great many--upon the subject of good breeding. + +A friend of yours and mine has very justly defined good breeding to be +the result of much good sense, some good nature, and a little +self-denial for the sake of others, and with a view to obtain the same +indulgence from them. Taking this for granted, as I think it cannot be +disputed, it is astonishing to me that anybody who has good sense and +good nature, and I believe you have both, can essentially fail in good +breeding. As to the modes of it, indeed, they vary according to persons +and places and circumstances, and are only to be acquired by observation +and experience; but the substance of it is everywhere and eternally the +same. Good manners are, to particular societies, what good morals are to +society in general; their cement and their security. And as laws are +enacted to enforce good morals, or, at least, to prevent the ill-effects +of bad ones, so there are certain rules of civility, universally implied +and received, to enforce good manners, and punish bad ones. + +Mutual complaisances, attentions, and sacrifices of little conveniences, +are as natural an implied compact between civilised people as protection +and obedience are between kings and subjects; whoever, in either case, +violates that compact justly forfeits all advantages arising from it. +For my own part, I really think that, next to the consciousness of doing +a good action, that of doing a civil one is the most pleasing; and the +epithet which I should covet the most, next to that of Aristides, would +be that of well-bred. + +I will conclude with these axioms: + +That the deepest learning, without good breeding, is unwelcome and +tiresome pedantry, and of use nowhere but in a man's own closet; and, +consequently, of little or no use at all. + +That a man who is not perfectly well-bred, is unfit for good company, +and therefore unwelcome in it; will consequently dislike it soon, +afterwards renounce it, and be reduced to solitude, or, what is +considerably worse, low and bad company. + + +_IV.--The Fruits of Observation_ + + +_London, September 22_, 1752. The day after the date of my last, I +received your letter of the 8th. I approve extremely of your intended +progress. I would have you see everything with your own eyes, and hear +everything with your own ears, for I know, by very long experience, that +it is very unsafe to trust to other people's, Vanity and interest cause +many misrepresentations, and folly causes many more. Few people have +parts enough to relate exactly and judiciously; and those who have, for +some reason or other, never fail to sink or to add some circumstances. + +The reception which you have met with at Hanover I look upon as an omen +of your being well-received everywhere else, for, to tell you the truth, +it was the place that I distrusted the most in that particular. But +there is a certain conduct, there are _certaines manières_, that will, +and must, get the better of all difficulties of that kind. It is to +acquire them that you still continue abroad, and go from court to court; +they are personal, local, and temporal; they are modes which vary, and +owe their existence to accidents, whim, and humour. All the sense and +reason in the world would never point them out; nothing but experience, +observation, and what is called knowledge of the world can possibly +teach them. + +This knowledge is the true object of a gentleman's travelling, if he +travels as he ought to do. By frequent good company in every country he +himself becomes of every country; he is no longer an Englishman, a +Frenchman, or an Italian; but he is a European. He adopts respectively +the best manners of every country, and is a Frenchman at Paris, an +Italian at Rome, an Englishman at London. + +This advantage, I must confess, very seldom accrues to my countrymen +from their travelling, as they have neither the desire nor the means of +getting into good company abroad; for, in the first place, they are +confoundedly bashful; and, in the next place, they either speak no +foreign language at all, or, if they do, it is barbarously. You possess +all the advantages that they want; you know the languages in perfection, +and have constantly kept the best company in the places where you have +been, so that you ought to be a European. + +There is, in all good company, a fashionable air, countenance, manner, +and phraseology, which can only be acquired by being in good company, +and very attentive to all that passes there. There is a certain +distinguishing diction of a man of fashion; he will not content himself +with saying, like John Trott, to a new-married man, "Sir, I wish you +joy"--or to a man who lost his son, "Sir I am sorry for your loss," and +both with a countenance equally unmoved; but he will say in effect the +same thing in a more elegant and less trivial manner, and with a +countenance adapted to the occasion. He will advance with warmth, +vivacity, and a cheerful countenance to the new-married man, and, +embracing him, perhaps say to him, "If you do justice to my attachment +to you, you will judge of the joy that I feel upon this occasion better +than I can express it." To the other, in affliction, he will advance +slowly, with a grave composure of countenance, in a more deliberate +manner, and with a lower voice perhaps, say, "I hope you do me the +justice to be convinced that I feel whatever you feel, and shall ever be +affected where you are concerned." + + +_V.--On the Arts_ + + +Mr. Harte tells me that he intends to give you, by means of Signor +Vincentini, a general notion of civil and military architecture; with +which I am very well pleased. They are frequent subjects of +conversation. I would also have you acquire a liberal taste of the two +liberal arts of painting and sculpture. All these sorts of things I +would have you know, to a certain degree; but remember that they must +only be the amusements, and not the business, of a man of parts. + +As you are now in a musical country [Italy], where singing, fiddling, +and piping are not only the common topics of conversation but almost the +principal objects of attention, I cannot help cautioning you against +giving in to those--I will call them illiberal--pleasures, though music +is commonly reckoned one of the liberal arts, to the degree that most of +your countrymen do when they travel in Italy. If you love music, hear +it; go to operas, concerts, and pay fiddlers to play to you, but I +insist upon your neither piping nor fiddling yourself. It puts a +gentleman in a very frivolous, contemptible light, brings him into a +great deal of bad company, and takes up a great deal of time which might +be much better employed. + +I confess I cannot help forming some opinion of a man's sense and +character from his dress, and I believe most people do as well as +myself. A man of sense carefully avoids any particular character in his +dress; he is accurately clean for his own sake; but all the rest is for +other people's. He dresses as well, and in the same manner, as the +people of sense and fashion of the place where he is. If he dresses +better, as he thinks, that is, more than they, he is a fop; if he +dresses worse, he is unpardonably negligent; but of the two, I would +rather have a young fellow too much than too little dressed--the excess +on that side will wear off with a little age; but if he is negligent at +twenty, he will be a sloven at forty, and stink at fifty years old. + +As to the genius of poetry, I own, if Nature has not given it you, you +cannot have it, for it is a true maxim that _Poeta nascitur non fit_. It +is much otherwise with oratory, and the maxim there is _Orator fit_, for +it is certain that by study and application every man can make himself a +pretty good orator, eloquence depending upon observation and care. Every +man, if he pleases, may choose good words instead of bad ones, may speak +properly instead of improperly, may be clear and perspicuous in his +recitals instead of dark and muddy, may have grace instead of +awkwardness in his motions and gestures, and, in short, may be a very +agreeable instead of a very disagreeable speaker if he will take care +and pains. And surely it is very well worth while to take a great deal +of pains to excel other men in that particular article in which they +excel beasts. + +That ready wit, which you so partially allow me, and so justly Sir +Charles Williams, may create many admirers; but, take my word for it, it +makes few friends. It shines and dazzles like the noonday sun, but, like +that, too, is very apt to scorch, and therefore is always feared. The +milder morning and evening light and heat of that planet soothe and calm +our minds. Never seek for wit; if it presents itself, well and good; but +even in that case, let your judgement interpose, and take care that it +be not at the expense of anybody. + + * * * * * + + + + +MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO + + +The Letters of Cicero + + + Marcus Tullius Cicero was born on January 3, 106 B.C. Educated + under the best teachers in the Greek culture of the day, he + won a speedy reputation at the Bar and developed a keen + interest in the various schools of Greek philosophy. His able + and intrepid exposure of Catiline's conspiracy brought him the + highest popularity, but he was attacked, in turn, by the + ignoble Clodius, who obtained his banishment in 58 B.C. In the + ensuing conflict between Cæsar and Pompey, Cicero was attached + to the party of Pompey and the senate, as against Cæsar and + the people. He kept clear of the conspiracy against Cæsar's + life, but after the assassination he undertook an oratorical + campaign against Antony, and was entrusted with the government + of the city. But on the return of the triumvirate, Octavianus, + Antony, and Lepidus, Cicero's name was included in the list of + those who were to be done away, and he was murdered in the + year 43 B.C., at 63 years of age. The correspondence of the + great Roman advocate, statesman, and man of letters, preserved + for us by the care of his freedman Tiro, is the richest and + most interesting collection of its kind in the world's + archives. The many-sided personality of their writer, his + literary charm, the frankness with which he set down his + opinions, hopes, and anxieties, the profound historical + interest of this period of the fall of the republic, and the + intimate glimpses which we get of Roman life and manners, + combine to make Cicero's "Letters" perennially attractive. The + series begins in B.C. 68, when Cicero was 38 years of age, and + runs on to within a short time of his death in B.C. 43. The + letters, of which there are 800, are addressed to several + correspondents, of whom the most frequent and important is + Titus Pomponius, surnamed Atticus, whose sister had married + Cicero's brother Quintus. Atticus was a wealthy and cultivated + man who had lived many years in Athens. He took no side in the + perilous politics of the time, but Cicero relied always on his + affectionate counsel, and on his ever-ready service in + domestic matters. + + +_To Atticus_ + + +There is nothing I need so much just now as someone with whom I may +discuss all my anxieties, someone with whom I may speak quite frankly +and without pretences. My brother, who is all candour and kindness, is +away. Metellus is empty as the air, barren as the desert. And you, who +have so often relieved my cares and sorrows by your conversation and +counsel, and have always been my support in politics and my confidant in +all private affairs, the partner of all my thoughts and plans--where are +you? + +I am so utterly deserted that I have no other comfort but in my wife and +daughter and dear little Cicero. For those ambitious friendships with +great people are all show and tinsel, and contain nothing that satisfies +inwardly. Every morning my house swarms with visitors; I go down to the +Forum attended by troops of friends; but in the whole crowd there is no +one with whom I can freely jest, or whom I can trust with an intimate +word. It is for you that I wait; I need your presence; I even implore +you to come. + +I have a load of anxieties and troubles, of which, if you could listen +to them in one of our walks together, you would go far to relieve me. I +have to keep to myself the stings and vexations of my domestic troubles; +I dare not trust them to this letter and to an unknown courier. I don't +want you to think them greater than they are, but they haunt and worry +me, and there is no friendly counsel to alleviate them. As for the +republic, though my courage and will toward it are not diminished, yet +it has again and again itself evaded remedy. If I were to tell you all +that has happened since you went away, you would certainly say that the +Roman state must be nearing its fall. The Clodian scandal was, I think, +the first episode after your departure. On that occasion, thinking that +I had an opportunity of cutting down and restraining the licentiousness +of the young men, I exerted myself with all my might, and brought into +play every power of my mind, not in hostility to an individual, but in +the hope of correcting and healing the state. But a venal and profligate +verdict in the matter has brought upon the republic the gravest injury. +And see what has taken place since. + +A consul has been imposed upon us whom no one, unless a philosopher like +ourselves, can look at without a sigh. What an injury that is! Again, +although a decree of the senate with regard to bribery and corruption +has been passed, no law has been carried through; and the senate has +been harassed beyond endurance and the Roman knights have been +alienated. So, in one year, two pillars of the republic, which had been +established by me alone, have been overturned; the authority of the +senate has been destroyed and the concord of the two orders has been +violated. + + +_To Lucius Lucceius, the Historian_ B.C. 56 + + +I have often intended to speak to you about the subject of this letter, +and have always been restrained by a certain awkward bashfulness. But a +letter will not blush; I can make my request at a distance. It is this: +I am incredibly eager, and, after all, there is nothing disgraceful in +my eagerness, that the history which you are writing should give +prominence to my name, and praise it frequently. You have often given me +to understand that I should receive that honour, but you must pardon my +impatience to see it actually conferred. I have always expected that +your work would be of great excellence, but the part which I have lately +seen exceeds all that I had imagined, and has inflamed me with the +keenest desire that my career should at once be celebrated in your +records. What I desire is not only that my name should go down to future +ages, but also that even while I live I may see my reputation endorsed +by your authority and illumined by your genius. + +Of course, I know very well that you are sufficiently occupied with the +period on which you are engaged. But, realising that your account of the +Italian and Marian civil wars is almost completed, and that you are +already entering upon our later annals, I cannot refrain from asking you +to consider whether it would be better to weave my career into the +general texture of your work, or to mould it into a distinct episode. +Several Greek writers have given examples of the latter method; thus +Callisthenes, Timaeus, and Polybius, treating respectively of the Trojan +war, and of the wars of Pyrrhus and of Numantia, detached their +narratives of these conflicts from their main treatises; and it is open +to you, in a similar way, to treat of the Catiline conspiracy +independently of the main current of your history. + +In suggesting this course, I do not suppose that it will make much +difference to my reputation; my point is rather that my desire to appear +in your work will be satisfied so much the earlier if you proceed to +deal with my affairs separately and by anticipation, instead of waiting +until they arise as elements in the general course of affairs. Besides, +by concentrating your mind on one episode and on one person, your matter +will be much more detailed and your treatment of it far more elaborate. + +I am conscious, of course, that my request is not exactly a modest one. +It is to lay a task on you which your occupations may well justify you +in refusing; and, again, it is to ask you to celebrate actions which you +may not think altogether worthy of so much honour. But having already +passed beyond the bounds of modesty, I may as well show myself boldly +shameless. Well, then, I implore you repeatedly, not only to praise my +conduct more warmly than may be justified by your feeling with regard to +it, but even, if necessary, to transgress the laws of history. One of +your prefaces indicates, most acceptably and plainly, your personal +amity; but just as Hercules, according to Xenophon, was incorruptible by +pleasure, so you have made a point of resisting the influence of private +feeling. I ask you not to resist this partiality; to give to affection +somewhat more than truth can afford. + +If I can prevail upon you to fall in with my proposal, I am confident +that you will find the subject not unworthy of your genius and of your +eloquence. The period from the rise of Catiline's conspiracy to my +return from banishment should furnish a memoir of moderate size, and the +story of my fortunes would supply you with a variety of incident, such +as might be made, in your hands, a work of great charm and interest. For +these reasons you will best meet my wishes if you determine to make a +separate book out of the drama of my life and fortunes. + + +_To Marcus Marius_ B.C. 55 + + +If it was ill-health that kept you from coming up to town for the games, +I must set down your absence to fortune and not to your own wisdom. But +if it was because you despise these shows which the world admires so +much, then I congratulate you on your health and your good sense alike. +You were left almost alone in your charming country, and I have no doubt +that on mornings when the rest of us, half asleep, were sitting out +stale farces, you were reading in your library. + +The games were magnificent, but not what you would have cared for. At +least, they were far from my taste. In honour of the occasion, certain +veteran actors returned to the stage, which they had left long ago, as I +imagined, in the interests of their own reputation. My old friend Aesop, +in particular, had failed so much that no one could be sorry he had +retired; his voice gave way altogether. AS for the rest of the festival, +it was not even so attractive as far less ambitious shows generally are; +the pageants were on such an enormous scale that light-hearted enjoyment +was out of the question. You need not mind having missed them. There is +no pleasure, for instance, in seeing six hundred mules at once in +"Clytaemnestra," or a whole army of gaily-dressed horse and foot engaged +in a theatrical battle. These spectacular effects delight the crowd, but +not you. If you were listening to your reader Protogenes, you had +greater pleasure than fell to any of us. The big-game hunts, continued +through five days, were certainly magnificent. Yet, after all, how can a +person of any refinement enjoy seeing a helpless man torn by a wild +beast of enormous strength, or a noble animal dying under a spear +thrust? If there is anything worth seeing in exhibitions of that kind, +you have often seen it; there was nothing new to me in all I saw. On the +last day the elephants were brought out, and though the populace were +mightily astonished they were not by any means pleased. On the contrary, +a wave of pity went through them, and there was a general impression +that these great creatures have something in common with man. + + +_To Atticus, in Rome_ Laodicea, B.C. 51 + + +I reached Laodicea on July 31, so you may reckon the year of my +government of the province from that day. Nothing could be more eagerly +awaited or more warmly welcomed than my arrival. But you would hardly +believe how the whole affair bores me. The wide scope of my mind has no +sufficient field, and my well-known industry is wasted here. Imagine! I +administer justice at Laodicea, while A. Plotius presides in the courts +of Rome! And while our friend is at the head of so great an army, I +have, in name only, two miserable legions! But all that is nothing; what +I miss is the glamour of life, the Forum, the city, my own house, +and--you. But I will bear it as best I can, so long as it is for one +year only. If my term is extended, it is all over with me. But this may +easily be prevented, if only you will stay in Rome. + +You ask about my doings. Well, I am living at enormous expense, and am +wonderfully pleased with my way of life. My strict abstinence from all +extortion, based on your counsels, is such that I shall probably have to +raise a loan to pay off what you lent me. My predecessor, Appius, has +left open wounds in the province; I refrain from irritating them. I am +writing on the eve of starting for the camp in Lycaonia, and thence I +mean to proceed to Mount Taurus to fight Maeragenes. All this is no +proper burden for me; but I will bear it. Only, as you love me, let it +not exceed the year. + + +_To Atticus, a Few Days Later_ Cilicia + + +The couriers of the tax-farmers are just going, and, though I am +actually travelling on the road, I must steal a moment to assure you +that I have not forgotten your injunctions. I am sitting by the roadside +to jot down a few notes about matters which really need a long letter. I +entered, on July 31, with a most enthusiastic reception, into a +devastated and utterly ruined province. During the three days at +Laodicea, three at Apamea, and three at Synnada, I heard of nothing but +the actual inability of the people to pay the poll-tax; everywhere they +have been sold up; the towns were filled with groans and lamentations. +They have been ravaged rather by a wild beast than by a man. They are +tired of life itself. + +Well, these unfortunate towns are a good deal relieved when they find +that neither I, nor my lieutenants, nor quaestor, nor any of my suite, +is costing them a penny. I not only refuse to accept forage, which is +allowed by the Julian law, but even firewood. We take from them not a +single thing except beds and a roof to cover us; and rarely so much even +as that, for we generally camp out in tents. The result is, we are +welcomed by crowds coming out to meet us from the countryside, the +villages, the houses, everywhere. By Hercules, the mere approach of your +Cicero puts new life into them, such reports have spread of his justice +and moderation and clemency! He has exceeded every expectation. I hear +nothing of the Parthians. We are hastening to join the army, which is +two days distant. + + +_To Marcus Caelius Rufus_ Asia, B.C. 50 + + +Nothing could have been more apt or judicious than your management of +the application to the senate for a public thanksgiving to me. The +arrangement of the matter has been just what I desired; not only has it +been passed through quickly, but Hirrus, your rival and mine, associated +himself with Cato's unbounded praise of my achievements. I have some +hope that this may lead to a triumph; you should be prepared for that. + +I am glad to hear that you think well of Dolabella and like him; and, as +you say, my Tullia's good sense may moderate him. May they be fortunate +together! I hope that he will prove a good son-in-law, and am sure that +your friendship will help to that end. + +About public affairs I am more anxious than I can say. I like Curio; I +hope Cæsar may prove himself an honourable man; for Pompey I would +willingly give my life; yet, after all, I love no man so dearly as I +love the republic. You do not seem to be taking any very prominent part +in these difficulties; but you are somewhat tied by being at once a good +patriot and a loyal friend. + + +_To Atticus, in Rome_ Athens, B.C. 50 + + +I arrived in Athens two days ago on my way home from my province, and +received your letter. I have been appalled by what you tell me about +Cæsar's legions. I beg you, in the name of fortune, to apply all your +love for me and all your incomparable wisdom to the consideration of my +whole situation. I seem to see a dreadful contest coming, unless some +divinity have pity on the republic--such a contest as has never been +before. I do not ask you to think of this catastrophe; after all, it is +a calamity for all the world as well as for me. + +What I want is that you should go into my personal dilemma. It was you +who advised me to secure the friendship of both parties; and much I wish +that I had attended from the first to your counsels. You persuaded me to +embrace the one, because he had done so much for me, and the other, +because he was powerful; and so I succeeded in engaging the affection of +both. + +It seemed then quite clear that a friendship with Pompey need involve no +wrong to the republic, and that an allegiance to Cæsar implied no +hostility to Pompey--such, at that time, was their union. But now, as +you show and as I plainly see, there will be a duel to the death; and +each, unless one of them is feigning, regards me as his. Pompey has no +doubt of it, for he knows that I approve of his political principles. +Moreover, I have a letter from each of them, arriving at the same time +as yours, indicating that neither of them values anyone more than me. +What am I to do? + +If the worst comes to the worst, I know what to do. In the case of civil +war I am clear that it is better to be conquered with the one than to +conquer with the other. But I am in doubt how to meet the questions +which will be in active discussion when I arrive--whether he may be a +candidate in his absence from Rome, whether he must not dismiss his +army, and so on. When the president calls my name in the senate--"Speak, +Marcus Tullius!" am I to say, "Please wait until I have had a talk with +Atticus"? + +The time for hedging has passed. Shall it be against Cæsar? What then +becomes of our pledges to one another? Or shall I change my political +opinions? I could not face Pompey, nor men and women--you yourself would +be the first to reproach me. You may laugh at what I am going to say. +How I wish I were even now back in my province! Though nothing could be +more disagreeable. By the way, I ought to tell you that all those +virtues which adorned the early days of my government, which your +letters praised to the skies, were very superficial. How difficult a +thing is virtue! + + +_To L. Papirius_ Rome, B.C. 46 + + +I am writing at dinner at the house of Volumnius; we lay down at three +o'clock; your friends Atticus and Verrius are to my right and left. Are +you surprised that we pass the time of our bondage so gaily? What else +should I do? Tell me, student of philosophy! shall I make myself +miserable? What good would it serve, or how long would it last? But you +say, "Spend your days in reading." As a matter of fact, I do nothing +else; it's my only way to keep alive. But one cannot read all day; and +when I have put away my books I don't know any better way of spending +the evening than at dinner. + +I like dining out. I like to talk without restraint, saying just what +comes to my tongue, and laughing care and sorrow from my heart. You are +no more serious yourself. I heard how you mocked a grave philosopher +when he invited questions: you said that the question that haunted your +mornings was, "Where shall I dine to-day?" He thought, poor fool, that +you were going to ask whether there was one heaven or many. + +I give part of the day to reading or writing; then, not to shut myself +up from my friends, I dine with them. You need not be afraid of my +coming; you will receive a guest of more humour than appetite. + + +_To L. Minucius Basilus_ Rome, March, B.C. 44 + + +My congratulations! I rejoice with you! I love you! I have your +interests at heart! I pray you love me, and let me know how you are, and +what is happening. [Written to one of Cæsar's assassins; apparently, +immediately after the event.] + + +_To Atticus_ May, B.C. 44 + + +I see I have been a fool to take comfort in the Ides of March. We had +indeed the courage of men, but no more wisdom than children have. The +tree was cut down, but its roots remained, and it is springing up again. +The tyrant was removed, but the tyranny is with us still. Let us +therefore return to the "Tusculan Disputations" which you often quote, +with their reasons why death is not to be feared. + + * * * * * + + + + +SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE + + +Biographia Literaria + + + Samuel Taylor Coleridge was born at Ottery St. Mary, in the + county of Devon, on October 21, 1772. He was educated at + Christ Hospital where Charles Lamb was among his friends. He + read very widely but was without any particular ambition or + practical bent, and had undertaken to apprentice himself to a + shoemaker, when his head-master interfered. He entered Jesus + College, Cambridge, in 1791. During the second year of his + residence at the University, he left Cambridge, on account of + an unsuccessful love affair, and enlisted in the regiment of + dragoons under an assumed name. He soon secured his discharge + from the army and went to Bristol where he met Southey. In + 1795 he married Miss Fricker, and removed to Nether Stowey, a + village in Somersetshire, where he wrote the "Ancient Mariner" + and the first part of "Christabel." While here he became a + close friend of Wordsworth. Coleridge originally intended his + "Biographia Literaria" to be a kind of apologia, in other + words, to put forth his claims for public recognition; and + although he began the book with this intention, it + subsequently developed into a book containing some of his most + admirable criticism. He gives voice to a crowd of + miscellaneous reflections, suggested, as the work got under + way, by popular events, embracing politics, religion, + philosophy, poetry, and also finally settling the controversy + that had arisen in respect of the "Lyrical Ballads." The + autobiographical parts of the "Biographia" are confined solely + to his intellectual experiences, and the influences to which + his life was subjected. As a treatise on criticism, especially + on Wordsworth, the book is of supreme importance. "Here," says + Principal Shairp, "are canons of judgement, not mechanical, + but living." Published in 1817, it was followed shortly after + his death by a still more important edition with annotations + and an introduction by the poet's daughter Sara. + + +_I.--The Nature of Poetic Diction_ + + +Little of what I have here written concerns myself personally; the +narrative is designed chiefly to introduce my principles of politics, +religion, and poetry. But my special purpose is to decide what is the +true nature of poetic diction, and to define the real poetic character +of the works of Mr. Wordsworth, whose writings have been the subject of +so much controversy. + +At school I had the advantage of a very sensible though severe master. I +learned from him that poetry, even that of the loftiest odes, had a +logic of its own as severe as that of science, and more difficult, +because more subtle. In the truly great poets, he would say, there is a +reason assignable, not only for every word, but for the position of +every word. In our English compositions he showed no mercy to phrase, +metaphor, or image, where the same sense might have been conveyed with +equal force and dignity in plainer words. In fancy, I can almost hear +him now exclaiming: "Harp? Lyre? Pen and ink, boy, you mean!" Nay, +certain introductions, similes, and examples were placed by name on a +list of interdiction. + +I had just entered my seventeenth year when the sonnets of Mr. Bowles +were made known to me, and the genial influence of his poetry, so +tender, yet so manly, so natural and real, yet so dignified and +harmonious, recalled me from a premature bewilderment in metaphysics and +theology. Well were it for me, perhaps, if I had never relapsed into the +same mental disease. + +The poetry of Pope and his followers, a school of French poetry +invigorated by English understanding, which had predominated from the +last century, consisted of prose thoughts translated into poetic +language. I was led to the conjecture that this style had been kept up +by, if it did not wholly arise from, the custom of writing Latin verses. +I began to defend the use of natural language, such as "I will remember +thee," instead of "Thy image on her wing, Before my fancy's eye shall +memory bring;" and adduced, as examples of simplicity, the diction of +Greek poets, and of our elder English poets, from Chaucer to Milton. I +arrived at two critical aphorisms, as the criteria of poetic style: +first, that not the poem which we have read with the greatest pleasure +but that to which we return with the greatest pleasure possesses the +genuine power; and, second, that whatever lines can be translated into +other words of the same language, without diminution of their +significance, are so far vicious in their diction. + +One great distinction between even the characteristic faults of our +elder poets and the false beauties of the moderns is this. In the +former, from Donne to Cowley, we find the most fantastic out-of-the-way +thoughts, but the most pure and genuine mother English; in the latter, +the most obvious thoughts, in language the most fantastic and arbitrary. +Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion, and passionate flow of +poetry, to the subtleties of intellect and to the starts of wit; the +moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual yet broken and +heterogeneous imagery. The one sacrificed the heart to the head, the +other both heart and head to drapery. + + +_II.--In Praise of Southey_ + + +Reflect on the variety and extent of his acquirements! He stands second +to no man, either as a historian or as a bibliographer; and when I +regard him as a popular essayist I look in vain for any writer who has +conveyed so much information, from so many and such recondite sources, +with as many just and original reflections, in a style so lively yet so +uniformly classical and perspicuous; no one, in short, who has combined +so much wisdom with so much wit; so much truth and knowledge with so +much life and fancy. + +Still more striking to those who are familiar with the general habits of +genius will appear the poet's matchless industry and perseverance in his +pursuits, the worthiness and dignity of those pursuits, his generous +submission to tasks of transitory interest. But as Southey possesses, +and is not possessed by, his genius, even so is he the master even of +his virtues. The regular and methodical tenor of his daily labours, +which might be envied by the mere man of business, lose all semblance of +formality in the dignified simplicity of his manners, in the spring and +healthful cheerfulness of his spirit. Always employed, his friends find +him always at leisure. + +No less punctual in trifles than steadfast in the performance of highest +duties, he inflicts none of those small pains and discomforts which +irregular men scatter about them, and which in the aggregate so often +become formidable obstacles both to happiness and utility. He bestows +all the pleasures, and inspires all that ease of mind on those around +him, which perfect consistency and absolute reliability cannot but +bestow. I know few men who so well deserve the character which an +ancient attributes to Marcus Cato--namely, that he was likest virtue, +inasmuch as he seemed to act aright, not in obedience to any law or +outward motive, but by the necessity of a happy nature which could not +act otherwise. + +As a son, brother, husband, father, master, friend, he moves with firm +yet light steps, alike unostentatious and alike exemplary. As a writer, +he has uniformly made his talents subservient to the best interests of +humanity, of public virtue, and domestic piety; his cause has ever been +the cause of pure religion and of liberty, of national independence and +of national illumination. + +When future critics shall weigh out his guerdon of praise and censure, +it will be Southey the poet only that will supply them with the scanty +materials for the latter. They will not fail to record that as no man +was ever a more constant friend, never had poet more friends and +honourers among the good of all parties, and that quacks in education, +quacks in politics, and quacks in criticism, were his only enemies. + + +_III.--Wordsworth's Early Poems_ + + +During the last year of my residence at Cambridge I became acquainted +with Mr. Wordsworth's first publication, entitled "Descriptive +Sketches," and seldom, if ever, was the emergence of an original poetic +genius above the literary horizon more evidently announced. In the whole +poem there is a harshness and acerbity, combined with words and images +all aglow, which might recall gorgeous blossoms rising out of a hard and +thorny rind and shell, within which the rich fruit was elaborating. The +language was not only peculiar and strong, but at times knotty and +contorted, as by its own impatient strength. It not seldom, therefore, +justified the complaint of obscurity. + +I was in my twenty-fourth year when I had the happiness of knowing Mr. +Wordsworth personally, and by that time the occasional obscurities which +had arisen from an imperfect control over the resources of his native +language had almost wholly disappeared, together with that worse defect +of arbitrary and illogical phrases, at once arbitrary and fantastic, +which alloy the earlier poems of the truest genius. There was only +evident the union of deep feeling with profound thought; and the +original gift of spreading the tone, the atmosphere, and with it the +depth and height of the ideal world, around forms, incidents, and +situations of which, for the common view, custom had bedimmed all the +lustre, had dried up the sparkle and the dewdrops. + +To find no contradiction in the union of old and new, to contemplate the +Ancient of Days and all His works With feelings as fresh as if all had +then sprung forth at the first creative fiat, characterises the mind +that feels the riddle of the world, and may help to unravel it. To carry +on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood, to combine the +child's sense of wonder and novelty with the appearances which every day +for perhaps forty years had rendered familiar--this is the character and +privilege of genius. And it is the prime merit of genius, and its most +unequivocal mode of manifestation, so to represent familiar objects as +to awaken in the minds of others that freshness of sensation which is +the constant accompaniment of mental, no less than of bodily, +convalescence. + +This excellence, which constitutes the character of Mr. Wordsworth's +mind, I no sooner felt than I sought to understand. Repeated meditations +led me to suspect that fancy and imagination were two distinct and +widely different faculties, instead of being, according to the general +belief, the lower and higher degree of one and the same power. Milton +had a highly imaginative, Cowley a very fanciful, mind. The division +between fancy and imagination is no less grounded in nature than that of +delirium from mania; or of Otway's + + Lutes, laurels, seas of milk, and ships amber, + +from Shakespeare's + + What! Have his daughters brought him to this pass? + + +_IV.--The Philosophical Critic_ + + +As materialism has been generally taught, it is utterly unintelligible, +and owes all its proselytes to the propensity, so common among men, to +mistake distinct images for clear conceptions, and, _vice versâ_, to +reject as inconceivable whatever from its own nature is unimaginable. If +God grant health and permission, this subject will be treated of +systematically in a work which I have many years been preparing on the +Productive Logos, human and divine, with, and as an introduction to, a +full commentary on the Gospel of St. John. + +To make myself intelligible, so far as my present subject, the +imagination, requires, it will be sufficient briefly to observe: (1) +That all association demands and presupposes the existence of the +thoughts and images to be associated. (2) The hypothesis of an external +world exactly correspondent to those images or modifications of our own +being, which alone--according to this system--we actually behold, is as +thorough idealism as Berkeley's, inasmuch as it equally removes all +reality and immediateness of perception, and places us in a dream-world +of phantoms and spectres, the inexplicable swarm and equivocal +generation of motion in our own brains. (3) That this hypothesis neither +involves the explanation nor precludes the necessity of a mechanism and +co-adequate forces in the percipient, which, at the more than magic +touch of the impulse from without, creates anew for himself the +correspondent object. The formation of a copy is not solved by the mere +pre-existence of an original; the copyist of Raffael's "Transfiguration" +must repeat more or less perfectly the process of Raffael. + +The imagination, therefore, is essentially creative. I consider +imagination either as primary or secondary. The primary imagination I +hold to be the living power and prime agent of all human perception, and +as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act of creation in the +infinite I AM. + +The secondary I consider as an echo of the former; it dissolves, +diffuses, dissipates, in order to re-create; or where this process is +rendered impossible, yet still, at all events, it struggles to idealise +and to unify. It is essentially vital, even as all objects are +essentially fixed and dead. + +Fancy, on the contrary, has no other counters to play with but fixities +and definites. The fancy is no other than a mode of memory emancipated +from the order of time and space, and blended with, and modified by, +choice. But, equally with the ordinary memory, it must receive its +materials ready made, from the law of association. + + +_V.--What is a Poem?_ + + +During the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I were neighbours our +conversations turned frequently on the two cardinal points of +poetry--the power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful +adherence to the truth of Nature, and the power of giving the interest +of novelty by the modifying colours of imagination. The sudden charm +which accidents of light and shade, moonlight or sunset, diffuse over a +familiar landscape appeared to represent the practicability of combining +both. + +The thought suggested itself that a series of poems might be composed of +two sorts. In the one the incidents and agents were to be, in part at +least, supernatural; and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the +interesting of the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions as +would naturally accompany such situations. For the second class, +subjects were to be chosen from ordinary life; the characters and +incidents were to be such as will be found in every village and its +vicinity where there is a meditative and feeling mind to seek them. + +In this idea originated the plan of the "Lyrical Ballads," in which my +endeavours were to be directed to persons and characters supernatural, +or at least romantic. Mr. Wordsworth, on the other hand, was to attempt +to give the charm of novelty to things of every day, and to excite a +feeling analogous to the supernatural by awakening the mind's attention +from the lethargy of custom, and directing it to the loveliness and the +wonders of the world before us--an inexhaustible treasure, but for +which, in consequence of the film of familiarity and selfish solicitude, +we have eyes, yet see not, and hearts that neither feel nor understand. + +With this view I wrote the "Ancient Mariner," and was preparing, among +other poems, the "Dark Ladie" and "Christabel." But the number of Mr. +Wordsworth's poems was so much greater that my compositions appeared +rather an interpolation of heterogeneous matter. + +With many parts of Mr. Wordsworth's preface to the "Lyrical Ballads," in +which he defines his poetic creed, I have never concurred, and I think +it expedient to declare in what points I coincide with his opinions, and +in what points I differ. + +A poem contains the same elements as a prose composition; the +difference, therefore, must consist in a different combination of them, +in consequence of a different object proposed. The mere addition of +metre does not in itself entitle a work to the name of poem, for nothing +can permanently please which does not contain in itself the reason why +it is so and not otherwise. Our definition of a poem may be thus worded. +"A poem is that species of composition which is opposed to works of +science, by proposing for its immediate object pleasure, not truth; and +from all other species (having this object in common with it) it is +discriminated by proposing to itself such delight from the whole as is +compatible with a distinct gratification from each component part." + +For, in a legitimate poem, the parts must mutually support and explain +each other; all in their proportion harmonising with, and supporting the +purpose and known influences of, metrical arrangement. + + +_VI.--A Criticism of Wordsworth_ + + +Let me enumerate the prominent defects, and then the excellences, of Mr. +Wordsworth's published poems. The first characteristic, though only an +occasional defect, is the inconstancy of style; the sudden and +unprepared transitions from lines or sentences of peculiar felicity to a +style not only unimpassioned, but undistinguished. He sinks too often, +too abruptly, into the language of prose. The second defect is a certain +matter-of-factness in some of his poems, consisting in a laborious +minuteness and fidelity in the representations of objects, and in the +insertion of accidental circumstances, such as are superfluous in +poetry. Thirdly, there is in certain poems an undue predilection for the +dramatic form; and in these cases either the thoughts and diction are +different from those of the poet, so that there arises an incongruity of +style, or they are the same and indistinguishable, and then it presents +a species of ventriloquism. The fourth class includes prolixity, +repetition, and an eddying instead of progression of thought. His fifth +defect is the employment of thoughts and images too great for the +subject; an approximation to what might be called mental bombast, as +distinguished from verbal. + +To these occasional defects I may oppose the following excellences. +First, an austere purity of language both grammatically and logically; +in short, a perfect appropriateness of the words to the meaning. +Secondly, a correspondent weight and sanity of the thoughts and +sentiments, won not from books, but from the poet's own meditative +observation. They are fresh, and have the dew upon them. Third, the +sinewy strength and originality of single lines and paragraphs; the +frequent curious felicity of his diction. Fourth, the perfect truth of +Nature in his images and descriptions as taken immediately from Nature, +and proving a long and genial intimacy with the very spirit which gives +the expression to all the works of nature. Like a green field reflected +in a calm and perfectly transparent lake, the image is distinguished +from the reality only by its greater softness and lustre. + +Fifth, a meditative pathos, a union of deep and subtle thought with +sensibility; a sympathy with man as man; the sympathy of a contemplator, +from whose view no difference of rank conceals the sameness of the +nature; no injuries of wind or weather, of toil, or even of ignorance, +wholly disguise the human face divine. The superscription and the image +of the Creator still remain legible to him under the dark lines with +which guilt or calamity had cancelled or cross-barred it. In this mild +and philosophic pathos, Wordsworth appears to me without a compeer. + +Lastly, and pre-eminently, I challenge for this poet the gift of +imagination in the highest and strictest sense of the word. In the play +of fancy, Wordsworth, to my feelings, is not always graceful, and is +sometimes recondite. But in imaginative power he stands nearest of all +modern writers to Shakespeare and Milton; and yet in a kind perfectly +unborrowed and his own. To employ his own words, he does indeed to all +thoughts and to all objects + + Add the gleam, + The light that never was on sea or land, + The consecration, and the poet's dream. + + * * * * * + + + + +WILLIAM COWPER + + +Letters Written in the Years 1782-1790 + + + William Cowper, son of a chaplain to George II., was born at + Berkhampstead Parsonage on November 15, 1731. After being + educated at Westminster School, he studied law for three + years, and in 1752 took up his residence, for a further + course, in the Middle Temple. Though called to the Bar in + 1754, he never practised, for he profoundly hated law, while + he passionately loved literary pursuits. His friends having + provided him with sufficient funds for subsistence, in + addition to a small patrimony left by his father, Cowper went + to live at Huntingdon, where he formed a deep attachment with + the Unwin family, which proved to be a lifelong friendship. + The latter years of his life were spent at Olney. He achieved + wide fame by the publication of "The Task," which was + pronounced by many critics the greatest poem of the period. + The main characteristics of his style are its simplicity, its + sympathy with nature and with ordinary life, and its + unaffected devotional accent. But Cowper is now appreciated + more for his incomparably delightful epistles to his friends + than for his poetry. Few letters in our language can compare + with these for incisive but kindly and gentle irony; innocent + but genuine fun; keen and striking acumen, and tender + melancholy. Cowper died on April 25, 1800. + + +_To the Rev. John Newton_ + + +Olney, _January_ 13, 1782. I am rather pleased that you have adopted +other sentiments respecting our intended present to Dr. Johnson. I allow +him to be a man of gigantic talents and most profound learning, nor have +I any doubts about the universality of his knowledge; but, by what I +have seen of his animadversions on the poets, I feel myself much +disposed to question, in many instances, either his candour or his +taste. + +He finds fault too often, like a man that, having sought it very +industriously, is at last obliged to stick it on a pin's point, and look +at it through a microscope; and I could easily convict him of having +denied many beauties, and overlooked more. Whether his judgement be in +itself defective, or whether it be warped by collateral considerations, +a writer upon such subjects as I have chosen would probably find but +little mercy at his hands. + + +_To the Rev. William Unwin_ + + +I say amen, with all my heart, to your observations on religious +characters. Men who profess themselves adepts in mathematical knowledge, +in astronomy, or jurisprudence, are generally as well qualified as they +would appear. The reason may be that they are always liable to detection +should they attempt to impose upon mankind, and therefore take care to +be what they pretend. In religion alone a profession is often taken up +and slovenly carried on, because, forsooth, candour and charity require +us to hope the best, and to judge favourably of our neighbour, and +because it is easy to deceive the ignorant, who are a great majority, +upon this subject. + +Let a man attach himself to a particular party, contend furiously for +what are properly called evangelical doctrines, and enlist himself under +the banner of some popular preacher, and the business is done. Behold a +Christian! a saint! a phoenix! In the meantime, perhaps, his heart and +his temper, and even his conduct, are unsanctified; possibly less +exemplary than those of some avowed infidels. No matter--he can talk--he +has the shibboleth of the true Church--the Bible in his pocket, and a +head well stored with notions. + +But the quiet, humble, modest, and peaceable person, who is in his +practice what the other is only in his profession, who hates a noise, +and therefore makes none; who, knowing the snares that are in the world, +keeps himself as much out of it as he can, is the Christian that will +always stand highest in the estimation of those who bring all characters +to the test of true wisdom, and judge of the tree by its fruit. + + +_To the Same_ + + +Olney, _August_ 3, 1782. It is a sort of paradox, but it is true; we are +never more in danger than when we think ourselves most secure, nor in +reality more secure than when we seem to be most in danger. Both sides +of this apparent contradiction were lately verified in my experience. +Passing from the greenhouse to the barn, I saw three kittens--for we +have so many in our retinue--looking with fixed attention on something +which lay on the threshold of a door nailed up. I took but little notice +of them at first, but a loud hiss engaged me to attend more closely, +when behold--a viper! the largest that I remember to have seen, rearing +itself, darting its forked tongue, and ejaculating the aforesaid hiss at +the nose of a kitten, almost in contact with his lips. I ran into the +hall for a hoe with a long handle, with which I intended to assail him, +and, returning in a few minutes, missed him; he was gone, and I feared +had escaped me. Still, however, the kitten sat, watching immovably, on +the same spot. I concluded, therefore, that, sliding between the door +and the threshold, he had found his way out of the garden into the yard. + +I went round, and there found him in close conversation with the old +cat, whose curiosity, being excited by so novel an appearance, inclined +her to pat his head repeatedly with her fore foot, with her claws, +however, sheathed, and not in anger, but in the way of philosophic +inquiry and examination. To prevent her falling a victim to so laudable +an exercise of her talents, I interposed in a moment with the hoe, and +performed on him an act of decapitation which, though not immediately +mortal, proved so in the end. + +Had he slid into the passages, where it is dark, or had he indeed, when +in the yard, met with no interruption from the cat, and secreted himself +in any of the out-houses, it is hardly possible but that some member of +the family must have been bitten. + + +_To the Same_ + + +Olney, _November_ 4, 1782. You tell me that John Gilpin made you laugh +to tears, and that the ladies at court are delighted with my poems. Much +good may they do them! May they become as wise as the writer wished +them, and they will be much happier than he. I know there is in the book +that wisdom that cometh from above, because it was from above that I +received it. May they receive it too! For whether they drink it out of +the cistern, or whether it falls upon them immediately from the +clouds--as it did on me--is all one. It is the water of life, which +whosoever shall drink it shall thirst no more. As to the famous horseman +above mentioned, he and his feats are an inexhaustible source of +merriment. At least we find him so, and seldom meet without refreshing +ourselves with the recollection of them. You are at liberty to deal with +them as you please. + + +_To Mrs. Newton_ + + +Olney, _November_ 23, 1782. Accept my thanks for the trouble you take in +vending my poems, and still more for the interest you take in their +success. To be approved by the great, as Horace observed many years ago, +is fame indeed. + +The winter sets in with great severity. The rigour of the season, and +the advanced price of grain, are very threatening to the poor. It is +well with those that can feed upon a promise, and wrap themselves up +warm in the robe of salvation. A good fireside and a well-spread table +are but very indifferent substitutes for those better accommodations; so +very indifferent, that I would gladly exchange them both for the rags +and the unsatisfied hunger of the poorest creature that looks forward +with hope to a better world, and weeps tears of joy in the midst of +penury and distress. + +What a world is this! How mysteriously governed, and in appearance left +to itself! One man, having squandered thousands at a gaming-table, finds +it convenient to travel; gives his estate to somebody to manage for him; +amuses himself a few years in France and Italy; returns, perhaps, wiser +than he went, having acquired knowledge which, but for his follies, he +would never have acquired; again makes a splendid figure at home, shines +in the senate, governs his country as its minister, is admired for his +abilities, and, if successful, adored at least by a party. When he dies, +he is praised as a demi-god, and his monument records everything but his +vices. + +The exact contrary of such a picture is to be found in many cottages at +Olney. I have no need to describe them; you know the characters I mean. +They love God, they trust Him, they pray to Him in secret, and, though +He means to reward them openly, the day of recompense is delayed. In the +meantime, they suffer everything that infirmity and poverty can inflict +upon them. Who would suspect, that has not a spiritual eye to discern +it, that the fine gentleman was one whom his Maker had in abhorrence, +and the wretch last mentioned dear to Him as the apple of His eye? + +It is no wonder that the world, who are not in the secret, find +themselves obliged, some of them, to doubt a Providence, and others +absolutely to deny it, when almost all the real virtue there is in it is +to be found living and dying in a state of neglected obscurity, and all +the vices of others cannot exclude them from worship and honour. But +behind the curtain the matter is explained, very little, however, to the +satisfaction of the great. + + +_To the Rev. John Newton_ + + +Olney, _January_ 26, 1783. It is reported among persons of the best +intelligence at Olney--the barber, the schoolmaster, and the drummer of +a corps quartered at this place--that the belligerent powers are at last +reconciled, the articles of the treaty adjusted, and that peace is at +the door. + +The powers of Europe have clashed with each other to a fine purpose. +Your opinions and mine, I mean our political ones, are not exactly of a +piece, yet I cannot think otherwise on this subject than I have always +done. England, more perhaps through the fault of her generals than her +councils, has in some instances acted with a spirit of cruel animosity +she was never chargeable with till now. But this is the worst that can +be said. + +On the other hand, the Americans, who, if they had contented themselves +with a struggle for lawful liberty, would have deserved applause, seem +to me to have incurred the guilt of parricide, by renouncing their +parent, by making her ruin their favourite object, and by associating +themselves with her worst enemy for the accomplishment of their purpose. +France, and, of course, Spain, have acted a treacherous, a thievish +part. They have stolen America from England, and, whether they are able +to possess themselves of that jewel or not hereafter, it was doubtless +what they intended. Holland appears to me in a meaner light than any of +them. They quarrelled with a friend for an enemy's sake. The French led +them by the nose, and the English have thrashed them for suffering it. + +My views of the contest being as they have always been, I have +consequently brighter hopes for England than her situation some time +since seemed to justify. She is the only injured party. + +America may perhaps call her the aggressor; but, if she were so, America +has not only repelled the injury, but done a greater. As to the rest, if +perfidy, treachery, avarice, and ambition can prove their cause to have +been a rotten one, those proofs are found on them. I think, therefore, +that, whatever scourge may be prepared for England on some future day, +her ruin is not yet to be expected. + + +_To the Same_ + + +Olney, _November_ 17, 1783. Swift observes, when he is giving his +reasons why the preacher is elevated always above his hearers, that, let +the crowd be as great as it will below, there is always room enough +overhead. + +If the French philosophers can carry their art of flying to the +perfection they desire, the observation may be reversed, the crowd will +be overhead, and they will have most room who stay below. I can assure +you, however, upon my own experience, that this way of travelling is +very delightful. + +I dreamt a night or two since that I drove myself through the upper +regions in a balloon and pair, with the greatest ease and security. +Having finished the tour I intended, I made a short turn, and with one +flourish of my whip, descended; my horses prancing and curvetting with +an infinite share of spirit, but without the least danger either to me +or my vehicle. The time, we may suppose, is at hand, and seems to be +prognosticated by my dream, when these airy excursions will be +universal, when judges will fly the circuit and bishops their +visitations, and when the tour of Europe will be performed with much +greater speed and with equal advantage by all who travel merely for the +sake of saying that they have made it. + + +_To His Cousin, Lady Hesketh_ + + +Olney, _November_ 9, 1785. I am happy that my poems have pleased you. My +volume has afforded me no such pleasure at any time, either while I was +writing it or since its publication, as I have derived from yours and my +uncle's opinion of it. But, above all, I honour John Gilpin, since it +was he who first encouraged you to write. I made him on purpose to laugh +at, and he served his purpose well. + + +_To the Same_ + + +Olney, _February_ 9, 1786. Let me tell you that your kindness in +promising to visit us has charmed us both. I shall see you again. I +shall hear your voice. We shall take walks together. I will show you my +prospects, the hovel, the alcove, the banks of the Ouse, everything I +have described. My dear, I will not let you come till the end of May, or +the beginning of June, because, before that time my greenhouse will not +be ready to receive us, and it is the only pleasant room belonging to +us. When the plants go out, we go in. + +I will tell you what you shall find at your first entrance. _Imprimis_, +as soon as you have entered the vestibule, if you cast a look on either +side of you, you shall see on the right hand a box of my making. It is +the box in which have been lodged all my hares, and in which lodges Puss +at present. But he, poor fellow, is worn out with age, and promises to +die before you can see him. + +My dear, I have told Homer what you say about casks and urns, and have +asked him whether he is sure that it is a cask in which Jupiter keeps +his wine. He swears that it is a cask, and that it will never be +anything better than a cask to all eternity. So if the god is content +with it, we must even wonder at his taste and be so too. + + +_To the Same_ + + +Olney, _March_ 6, 1786. Your opinion has more weight with me than that +of all the critics in the world. To give you a proof of it, I make you a +concession that I would hardly have made to them all united. I do not +indeed absolutely covenant that I will discard all my elisions, but I +hereby bind myself to discard as many of them as, without sacrificing +energy to sound, I can. It is incumbent on me, in the meantime, to say +something in justification of the few I shall retain, that I may not +seem a poet mounted on a mule rather than on Parnassus. In the first +place, "the" is a barbarism. We are indebted for it to the Celts, or the +Goths, or the Saxons, or perhaps to them all. In the two best languages +that ever were spoken, the Greek and the Latin, there is no similar +encumbrance of expression to be found. Secondly, the perpetual use of it +in our language is, to us miserable poets, attended with two great +inconveniences. + +Our verse consisting of only ten syllables, it not infrequently happens +that the fifth part of a line is to be engrossed, and necessarily too, +unless elision prevents it, by this abominable intruder; and, which is +worse in my account, open vowels are continually the consequence--_the_ +element--_the_ air, etc. Thirdly, the French, who are equally chargeable +with the English with barbarism in this particular, dispose of their +_le_ and their _la_ without ceremony, and always take care that they +shall be absorbed, both in verse and in prose, in the vowel that +immediately follows them. Fourthly, and I believe lastly, the practice +of cutting short "the" is warranted by Milton, who of all English poets +that ever lived, had certainly the finest ear. + +Thou only critic of my verse that is to be found in all the earth, whom +I love, what shall I say in answer to your own objection to that +passage-- + + Softly he placed his hand + On th' old man's hand, and pushed it gently away. + +I can say neither more nor less than this, that when our dear friend the +general sent me his opinion on the specimen, quoting those very words +from it, he added, "With this part I was particularly pleased; there is +nothing in poetry more descriptive." + +Taste, my dear, is various; there is nothing so various, and even +between persons of the best taste there are diversities of opinion on +the same subject, for which it is by no means possible to account. + + +_To John Johnson, Esq._ + + +Weston, _June_ 7, 1790. You never pleased me more than when you told me +you had abandoned your mathematical pursuits. It grieved me to think +that you were wasting your time merely to gain a little Cambridge fame, +not worth having. I cannot be contented that your renown should thrive +nowhere but on the banks of the Cam. Conceive a nobler ambition, and +never let your honour be circumscribed by the paltry dimensions of a +university! It is well that you have already, as you observe, acquired +sufficient information in that science to enable you to pass creditably +such examinations as, I suppose, you must hereafter undergo. Keep what +you have gotten, and be content. + +You could not apply to a worse than I am to advise you concerning your +studies. I was never a regular student myself, but lost the most +valuable years of my life in an attorney's office and in the Temple. It +seems to me that your chief concern is with history, natural philosophy, +logic, and divinity. As to metaphysics, I know little about them. Life +is too short to afford time even for serious trifles. Pursue what you +know to be attainable, make truth your object, and your studies will +make you a wise man. Let your divinity, if I may advise, be the divinity +of the glorious Reformation. I mean in contradiction to Arminianism, and +all the _isms_ that were ever broached in this world of ignorance and +error. + + +_Obiter Dicta_ + + +Men of lively imaginations are not often remarkable for solidity of +judgement. They have strong passions to bias it, and are led far away +from their proper road, in pursuit of petty phantoms of their own +creating. + +Excellence is providentially placed beyond the reach of indolence, that +success may be the reward of industry, and that idleness may be punished +with obscurity and disgrace. + +I do not think that in these costermonger days, as I have a notion +Falstaff calls them, an antediluvian age is at all a desirable thing, +but to live comfortably while we do live is a great matter, and +comprehends in it everything that can be wished for on this side the +curtain that hangs between time and eternity. + +Wherever there is war, there is misery and outrage; notwithstanding +which, it is not only lawful to wish, but even a duty to pray for the +success of one's country. And as to the neutralities, I really think the +Russian virago an impertinent puss for meddling with us, and engaging +half a score kittens of her acquaintance to scratch the poor old lion, +who, if he has been insolent in his day, has probably acted no otherwise +than they themselves would have acted in his circumstances and with his +power to embolden them. + +Though a Christian is not to be quarrelsome, he is not to be crushed. +Though he is but a worm before God, he is not such a worm as every +selfish and unprincipled wretch may tread on at his pleasure. + +St. Paul seems to condemn the practice of going to law. "Why do ye not +suffer wrong, etc." But if we look again we shall find that a litigious +temper prevailed among the professors of that day. Surely he did not +mean, any more than his Master, that the most harmless members of +society should receive no advantage of its laws, or should be the only +persons in the world who should derive no benefit from those +institutions without which society cannot subsist. + +Tobacco was not known in the Golden Age. So much the worse for the +Golden Age. This age of iron and lead would be insupportable without it; +and therefore we may reasonably suppose that the happiness of those +better days would have been much improved by the use of it. + +No man was ever scolded out of his sins. The heart, corrupt as it is, +and because it is so, grows angry if it be not treated with some +management and good manners, and scolds again. A surly mastiff will bear +perhaps to be stroked, though he will growl even under that operation, +but, if you touch him roughly, he will bite. + +Simplicity is become a very rare quality in a writer. In the decline of +great kingdoms, and where refinement in all the arts is carried to an +excess, I suppose it is always so. The later Roman writers are +remarkable for false ornament; they were without doubt greatly admired +by the readers of their own day; and with respect to authors of the +present era, the popular among them appear to me to be equally +censurable on the same account. Swift and Addison were simple. + + * * * * * + + + + +THOMAS DE QUINCEY + + +Confessions of an English Opium-Eater + + + Thomas de Quincey, scholar, essayist, critic, opium-eater, was + born at Manchester on August 15, 1785. A singularly sensitive + and imaginative boy, De Quincey rapidly became a brilliant + scholar, and at fifteen years of age could speak Greek so + fluently as to be able, as one of his masters said, "to + harangue an Athenian mob." He wished to go early to Oxford, + but his guardians objecting, he ran away at the age of + seventeen, and, after wandering in Wales, found his way to + London, where he suffered privations that injured his health. + The first instalment of his "Confessions of an English + Opium-Eater" appeared in the "London Magazine" for September + 1821. It attracted universal attention both by its + subject-matter and style. De Quincey settled in Edinburgh, + where most of his literary work was done, and where he died, + on December 8, 1859. His collected works, edited by Professor + Masson, fill fourteen volumes. After he had passed his + seventieth year, De Quincey revised and extended his + "Confessions," but in their magazine form, from which this + epitome is made, they have much greater freshness and power + than in their later elaboration. Many popular editions are now + published. + + +_I.--The Descending Pathway_ + + +I here present you, courteous reader, with the record of a remarkable +period in my life, and I trust that it will prove not merely an +interesting record, but in a considerable degree useful and instructive. +That must be my apology for breaking through the delicate and honourable +reserve which, for the most part, restrains us from the public exposure +of our own errors and infirmities. + +If opium-eating be a sensual pleasure, and if I am bound to confess that +I have indulged in it to an excess not yet recorded of any other man, it +is no less true that I have struggled against this fascinating +enthralment with a religious zeal, and have at length accomplished what +I never yet heard attributed to any other man--have untwisted, almost to +its final links, the accursed chain which fettered me. + +I have often been asked how I first came to be a regular opium-eater, +and have suffered, very unjustly, in the opinion of my acquaintances, +from being reputed to have brought upon myself all the sufferings which +I shall have to record, by a long course of indulgence in this practice +purely for the sake of creating an artificial state of pleasurable +excitement. This, however, is a misrepresentation of my case. It was not +for the purpose of creating pleasure, but of mitigating pain in the +severest degree, that I first began to use opium as an article of daily +diet. + +The calamities of my novitiate in London, when, as a runaway from +school, I made acquaintance with starvation and horror, had struck root +so deeply in my bodily constitution that afterwards they shot up and +flourished afresh, and grew into a noxious umbrage that has overshadowed +and darkened my latter years. + +It is so long since I first took opium that, if it had been a trifling +incident in my life, I might have forgotten its date; but, from +circumstances connected with it, I remember that it must be referred to +the autumn of 1804. During that season I was in London, having come +thither for the first time since my entrance at college. And my +introduction to opium arose in the following way. One morning I awoke +with excruciating rheumatic pains of the head and face, from which I had +hardly any respite. + +On the twenty-first day, I think it was, and on a Sunday, I went out +into the streets, rather to run away, if possible, from my torments than +with any distinct purpose. By accident, I met a college acquaintance, +who recommended opium. Opium! dread agent of unimaginable pleasure and +pain! I had heard of it as I had of manna or of ambrosia, but no +further. My road homewards lay through Oxford Street; and near "the +stately Pantheon" I saw a druggist's shop, where I first became +possessed of the celestial drug. + +Arrived at my lodgings, I took it, and in an hour--oh, heavens! what a +revulsion! what an unheaving, from its lowest depths, of the inner +spirit! what an apocalypse of the world within me! That my pains had +vanished was now a trifle in my eyes; this negative effect was swallowed +up in the immensity of those positive effects which had opened before +me, in the abyss of divine enjoyment thus suddenly revealed. + + +_II.--Effects of the Seductive Drug_ + + +First one word with respect to its bodily effects. It is not so much +affirmed as taken for granted that opium does, or can, produce +intoxication. Now, reader, assure yourself that no quantity of the drug +ever did, or could, intoxicate. The pleasure given by wine is always +mounting and tending to a crisis, after which it declines; that from +opium, when once generated, is stationary for eight or ten hours; the +one is a flame, the other a steady and equable glow. + +Another error is that the elevation of spirits produced by opium is +necessarily followed by a proportionate depression. This I shall content +myself with simply denying; assuring my readers that for ten years, +during which I took opium at intervals, the day succeeding to that on +which I allowed myself this luxury was always a day of unusually good +spirits. + +With respect to the torpor supposed to accompany the practice of +opium-eating, I deny that also. The primary effects of opium are always, +and in the highest degree, to excite and stimulate the system. But, that +the reader may judge of the degree in which opium is likely to stupefy +the faculties of an Englishman, I shall mention the way in which I +myself often passed an opium evening in London during the period between +1804 and 1812. I used to fix beforehand how often within a given time, +and when, I would commit a debauch of opium. This was seldom more than +once in three weeks, and it was usually on a Tuesday or a Saturday +night; my reason for which was this: in those days Grassini sang at the +opera, and her voice was delightful to me beyond all that I had ever +heard. The choruses were divine to hear, and when Grassini appeared in +some interlude, as she often did, and poured forth her passionate soul +as Andromache at the tomb of Hector, etc., I question whether any Turk, +of all that ever entered the paradise of opium-eaters, can have had half +the pleasure I had. + +Another pleasure I had which, as it could be had only on a Saturday +night, occasionally struggled with my love of the opera. The pains of +poverty I had lately seen too much of; but the pleasures of the poor, +their consolations of spirit, and their reposes from bodily toil, can +never become oppressive to contemplate. Now, Saturday night is the +season for the chief, regular, and periodic return of rest for the poor. +For the sake, therefore, of witnessing a spectacle with which my +sympathy was so entire, I used often on Saturday nights, after I had +taken opium, to wander forth, without much regarding the direction or +the distance, to all the markets, and other parts of London to which the +poor resort of a Saturday night for laying out their wages. + +Sometimes in my attempts to steer homewards by fixing my eye on the Pole +star, and seeking ambitiously for a north-west passage, instead of +circumnavigating all the capes and headlands I had doubled in my outward +voyage, I came suddenly upon such knotty problems of alleys, such +enigmatical entries, and such sphinx's riddles of streets without +thoroughfares, as must, I conceive, baffle the audacity of porters, and +confound the intellects of hackney coachmen. For all this I paid a heavy +price in distant years, when the human face tyrannised over my dreams, +and the perplexities of my steps in London came back and haunted my +sleep with the feeling of perplexities, moral and intellectual, that +brought confusion to the reason, or anguish and remorse to the +conscience. + + +_III.--A Fearful Nemesis_ + + +Courteous reader, let me request you to move onwards for about eight +years, to 1812. The years of academic life are now over and gone--almost +forgotten. Am I married? Not yet. And I still take opium? On Saturday +nights. And how do I find my health after all this opium-eating? In +short, how do I do? Why, pretty well, I thank you, reader. In fact, +though, to satisfy the theories of medical men, I _ought_ to be ill, I +never was better in my life than in the spring of 1812. To moderation, +and temperate use of the article I may ascribe it, I suppose, that as +yet, at least, I am unsuspicious of the avenging terrors which opium has +in store for those who abuse its lenity. + +But now comes a different era. In 1813 I was attacked by a most +appalling irritation of the stomach, and I could resist no longer. Let +me repeat, that at the time I began to take opium daily, I could not +have done otherwise. Still, I confess it as a besetting infirmity of +mine that I hanker too much after a state of happiness, both for myself +and others. From 1813, the reader is to consider me as a regular and +confirmed opium-eater. Now, reader, from 1813 please walk forward about +three years more, and you shall see me in a new character. + +Now, farewell--a long farewell--to happiness, winter or summer! Farewell +to smiles and laughter! Farewell to peace of mind! Farewell to hope and +to tranquil dreams, and to the blessed consolations of sleep. For more +than three years and a half I am summoned away from these. I am now +arrived at an Iliad of woes. + +It will occur to you to ask, why did I not release myself from the +horrors of opium by leaving it off or diminishing it? The reader may be +sure that I made attempts innumerable to reduce the quantity. It might +be supposed that I yielded to the fascinations of opium too easily; it +cannot be supposed that any man can be charmed by its terrors. + +My studies have now been long interrupted. I cannot read to myself with +any pleasure, hardly with a moment's endurance. This intellectual torpor +applies more or less to every part of the four years during which I was +under the Circean spells of opium. But for misery and suffering, I +might, indeed, be said to have existed in a dormant state. I seldom +could prevail on myself even to write a letter. The opium-eater loses +none of his moral sensibilities or aspirations. He wishes and longs as +earnestly as ever to realise what he believes possible, and feels to be +exacted by duty; but his intellectual apprehension of what is possible +infinitely outruns his power, not of execution only, but even of power +to attempt. + + +_IV.--The Horrors of Dreamland_ + + +I now pass to what is the main subject of these latter confessions, to +the history of what took place in my dreams, for these were the +immediate and proximate cause of my acutest suffering. I know not +whether my reader is aware that many children, perhaps most, have a +power of painting, as it were, upon the darkness all sorts of phantoms. + +In the middle of 1817, I think it was, this faculty became positively +distressing to me. At nights, when I lay awake in bed, vast processions +passed along in mournful pomp; friezes of never-ending stories, that to +my feelings were as sad and solemn as if they were stories drawn from +times before Aedipus or Priam, before Tyre, before Memphis. And at the +same time a corresponding change took place in my dreams; a theatre +seemed suddenly opened and lighted up within my brain, which presented +nightly spectacles of more than earthly splendour. + +All changes in my dreams were accompanied by deep-seated anxiety and +gloomy melancholy, such as are wholly incommunicable by words. I seemed +every night to descend, not metaphorically, but literally, to descend +into chasms and sunless abysses, depths below depths, from which it +seemed hopeless that I should ever re-ascend. Nor did I, even by waking, +feel that I had re-ascended. + +The sense of space, and, in the end, the sense of time, were both +powerfully affected. Buildings, landscapes, etc., were exhibited in +proportions so vast as the bodily eye is not fitted to receive. Space +swelled, and was amplified to an extent of unutterable infinity. This, +however, did not disturb me so much as the vast expansion of time; I +sometimes seemed to have lived far beyond the limits of any human +experience. + +The minutest incidents of childhood, or forgotten scenes of later years, +were often revived. Of this, at least, I feel assured, that there is no +such thing as _forgetting_ possible to the mind. A thousand accidents +may and will interpose a veil between our present consciousness and the +secret inscriptions of the mind; accidents of the same sort will also +rend away this veil; but alike, whether veiled or unveiled, the +inscription remains for ever; just as the stars seem to withdraw before +the common light of day, whereas, in fact, we all know that it is the +light which is drawn over them as a veil, and that they are but waiting +to be revealed when the obscuring daylight shall have withdrawn. + +In the early stage of my malady the splendours of my dreams were indeed +chiefly architectural; and I beheld such pomp of cities and palaces as +was never yet beheld by the waking eye, unless in the clouds. To +architecture succeeded dreams of lakes and silvery expanses of water. +The waters then changed their character--from translucent lakes shining +like mirrors they now became seas and oceans. + +And now came a tremendous change, which, unfolding itself slowly like a +scroll through many months, promised an abiding torment; and, in fact, +it never left me until the winding up of my case. Hitherto the human +face had mixed often in my dreams, but not despotically, nor with any +special power of tormenting. But now that which I have called the +tyranny of the human face began to unfold itself. Perhaps some part of +my London life might be answerable for this. Be that as it may, now it +was that upon the rocking waters of the ocean the human face began to +appear; the sea appeared paved with innumerable faces upturned to the +heavens--faces imploring, wrathful, despairing, surged upwards by +thousands, by myriads, by generations, by centuries; my agitation was +infinite, my mind tossed and surged with the ocean. + + +_V.--The Monster-Haunted Dreamer_ + + +I know not whether others share in my feelings on this point; but I have +often thought that if I were compelled to forego England and to live in +China, and among Chinese manners and modes of life and scenery, I should +go mad. Southern Asia in general is the seat of awful images and +associations. As the cradle of the human race, it would alone have a dim +and reverential feeling connected with it. But there are other reasons. +No man can pretend that the wild, barbarous, and capricious +superstitions of Africa, or of savage tribes elsewhere, affect him in +the way that he is affected by the ancient, monumental, cruel, and +elaborate religions of Indostan, etc. The mere antiquity of Asiatic +things, of their institutions, histories, modes of faith, etc., is so +impressive that, to me, the vast age of the race and name overpowers the +sense of youth in the individual. A young Chinese seems to me an +antediluvian man renewed. + +All this, and much more than I can say or have time to say, the reader +must enter into before he can comprehend the unimaginable horror which +these dreams of Oriental imagery and mythological tortures impressed +upon me. Under the connecting feeling of tropical heat and vertical +sunlight, I brought together all creatures, birds, beasts, reptiles, all +trees and plants, usages and appearances, that are found in all tropical +regions, and assembled them together in China or Indostan. From kindred +feelings I soon brought Egypt and all her gods under the same law. I was +stared at, hooted at, grinned at, chattered at, by monkeys, by +paroqueats, by cockatoos. I ran into pagodas, and was fixed for +centuries, at the summit, or in secret rooms; I was the idol; I was the +priest; I was worshipped; I was sacrificed. I fled from the wrath of +Brahma through all the forests of Asia; Vishnu hated me; Siva laid wait +for me. I came suddenly upon Isis and Osiris; I had done a deed, they +said, which the ibis and the crocodile trembled at I was buried for a +thousand years in stone coffins, with mummies and sphinxes, in narrow +chambers at the heart of eternal pyramids. I was kissed by crocodiles; +and laid, confounded with all unutterable slimy things, amongst reeds +and Nilotic mud. + +Over every form and threat and punishment brooded a sense of eternity +and infinity that drove me into an oppression as of madness. Into these +dreams only it was, with one or two slight exceptions, that any +circumstances of physical horror entered. But here the main agents were +ugly birds, or snakes, or crocodiles; especially the last. The cursed +crocodile became to me the object of more horror than almost all the +rest. I was compelled to live with him, and--as was almost always the +case in my dreams--for centuries. And so often did this hideous reptile +haunt my dreams that many times the very same dream was broken up in the +very same way. I heard gentle voices speaking to me--I hear everything +when I am sleeping--and instantly I awoke. It was broad noon, and my +children were standing, hand in hand, at my bedside--come to show me +their coloured shoes, or new frocks, or to let me see them dressed for +going out. I protest that so awful was the transition from the +detestable crocodile, and the other unutterable monsters and abortions +of my dreams, to the sight of innocent human natures and of infancy that +in the mighty and sudden revulsion of mind I wept, and could not forbear +it, as I kissed their faces. + + +_VI.--The Agonies of Sleep_ + + +As a final specimen, I cite a dream of a different character, from 1820. +The dream commenced with a music which now I often heard in dreams--a +music of preparation and of awakening suspense, a music like the opening +of the Coronation Anthem, and which, like that, gave the feeling of a +vast march, of infinite cavalcades filing off, and the tread of +innumerable armies. The morning was come of a mighty day--a day of +crisis and of final hope for human nature, then suffering some +mysterious eclipse, and labouring in some dread extremity. Somewhere, I +knew not where--somehow, I knew not how--by some beings, I knew not +whom--a battle, a strife, an agony, was conducting, was evolving like a +great drama or piece of music, with which my sympathy was the more +insupportable from my confusion as to its place, its cause, its nature, +and possible issue. + +I, as is usual in dreams--where, of necessity, we make ourselves central +to every movement--had the power, and yet had not the power, to decide +it. I had the power, if I could raise myself to will it, and yet again +had not the power, for the weight of twenty Atlantics was upon me, or +the oppression of inexpiable guilt. "Deeper than ever plummet sounded," +I lay inactive. Then, like a chorus, the passion deepened. Some greater +interest was at stake, some mightier cause than ever yet the sword had +pleaded, or trumpet had proclaimed. Then came sudden alarms, hurryings +to and fro, trepidations of innumerable fugitives--I knew not whether +from the good cause or the bad--darkness and lights, tempest and human +faces, and at last, with the sense that all was lost, female forms, and +the features that were worth all the world to me, and but a moment +allowed--and clasped hands, and heart-breaking partings, and +then--everlasting farewells! And with a sigh such as the caves of hell +sighed when the incestuous mother uttered the abhorred name of death, +the sound was reverberated--everlasting farewells! And again and yet +again reverberated--everlasting farewells! And I awoke in struggles, and +cried aloud, "I will sleep no more." + + * * * * * + +It now remains that I should say something of the way in which this +conflict of horrors was finally brought to a crisis. I saw that I must +die if I continued the opium. I determined, therefore, if that should be +required, to die in throwing it off. I triumphed. But, reader, think of +me as one, even when four months had passed, still agitated, writhing, +throbbing, palpitating, shattered. During the whole period of +diminishing the opium I had the torments of a man passing out of one +mode of existence into another. The issue was not death, but a sort of +physical regeneration. + +One memorial of my former condition still remains--my dreams are not yet +perfectly calm; the dread swell and agitation of the storm have not +wholly subsided; the legions that encamped in them are drawing off, but +not all departed; my sleep is still tumultuous, and, like the gates of +Paradise to our first parents when looking back from afar, it is +still--in Milton's tremendous line--"With dreadful faces throng'd and +fiery arms." + + * * * * * + + + + +ALEXANDRE DUMAS + + +Memoirs + + + Alexandre Dumas _père_, the great French novelist and + dramatist, who here tells the story of his youth, was born on + July 24, 1802, and died on December 5, 1870. He was a man of + prodigious vitality, virility, and invention; abounding in + enjoyment, gaiety, vanity, and kindness; the richness, force, + and celerity of his nature was amazing. In regard to this + peculiar vivacity of his, it is interesting to remember that + one of his grandparents was a full-blooded negress. Dumas' + literary work is essentially romantic; his themes are courage, + loyalty, honour, love, pageantry, and adventure; he belongs to + the tradition of Scott and Schiller, but as a story-teller + excels every other. His plays and novels are both very + numerous; the "OEuvres Complètes," published between 1860 and + 1884, fill 277 volumes. Probably "Monte Cristo" and "The Three + Musketeers" are the most famous of his stories. He was an + untiring and exceedingly rapid worker, a great collaborator + employing many assistants, and was also a shameless + plagiarist; but he succeeded in impressing his own quality on + all that he published. Besides plays and novels there are + several books of travel. His son, Alexandre, was born in 1824. + The "Memoirs," published in 1852, which are here followed + through their author's struggles to his triumph, may be the + work of the novelist as well as of the chronicler, but they + give a most convincing impression of his courageous and + brilliant youth, fired equally by art and by ambition. + + +_I.--Memories of Boyhood_ + + +I was born on July 24, 1802, at Villers-Cotterets, a little town of the +Department of Aisne, on the road from Laon to Paris, so that, writing +now in 1847, I am forty-five years old. My father was the republican +general, Thomas-Alexandre Dumas-Davy de la Pailleterie, and I still use +this patronymic in signing official documents. It came from my +grandfather, marquis of that name, who sold his properties in France, +and settled down in 1760 on vast estates in San Domingo. There, in 1762, +my father was born; his mother, Louise-Cessette Dumas, died in 1772; and +in 1780, when my father was eighteen, the West Indian estates were +leased, and the marquis returned to his native country. + +My father spent the next years among the youth of the great families of +that period. His handsome features--all the more striking for the dark +complexion of a mulatto--his prodigious physical strength, his elegant +creole figure, with hands and feet as small as a woman's, his unrivalled +skill in bodily exercises, and especially in fencing and horsemanship, +all marked him out as one born for adventures. The spirit of adventure +was there, too. Assuming the name of Dumas because his father objected +to the family name being dragged through the ranks, he enlisted as a +private in a regiment of dragoons in 1786, at the age of twenty-four. +Quartered at Villers-Cotterets in 1790, he met my mother, +Marie-Louise-Elisabeth Labouret, whom he married two years later. Their +children were one daughter, and then myself. The marquis had died in +1786. + +My memory goes back to 1805, when I was three, and to the little country +house, Les Fosses, we lived in. I remember a journey to Paris in the +same year, and the death of my father in 1806. Then my mother, sister, +and I, left in poverty, went to live with grandfather and grandmother +Labouret. Here, in gardens full of shady trees and gorgeous blossoms, I +spent those happy days when hope extends hardly further than to-morrow, +and memory hardly further than yesterday; storing my mind with classical +mythology and Bible stories, the "Arabian Nights," the natural history +of Buffon, and the geography of "Robinson Crusoe." + +Then came my tenth year and the age for school. It was decided that I +should go to the seminary and be educated for a priest; but I settled +that matter by running away and living for three days in the hut of a +friendly bird-catcher in the woods. So I passed instead into our little +school of the Abbé Grégoire--a just and good man, of whom I learned +little but to love him; and from another parish priest, an uncle of +mine, a few miles away, I gained a passion for shooting the hares and +partridges with which our country swarmed. + +But while I was living in twelve-year-old joys and sorrows, the enemy +was marching on French soil, and all confidence in Napoleon's star had +vanished. God had forsaken him. A retreating wave of our army swept over +the countryside, followed by alien forces. We lived in the midst of +fighting and alarms, and my mother and her friends worked like sisters +of charity. There followed Bonaparte's exile in Elba, and then the +astonishing report that he had landed near Cannes, and was marching on +Paris. He reached the Tuileries on March 20, 1815; in May, his troops +were marching through our town on their way to Waterloo, glory, and the +grave. I saw him passing in his carriage, his face, pale and sickly, +leaning forward, chin on breast. He raised his head, and glanced around. + +"Where are we?" + +"At Villers-Cotterets, sire." + +"Forward! Faster!" he cried, and fell back into his lethargy. Whips +cracked, and the gigantic vision had passed. That was June 11--Waterloo +was the 18th. On the 20th, three or four hours after the first doubtful +rumour had reached us, a carriage drew up to change horses. There was +the same inert figure, and the same question and answer. The team broke +into a gallop, and the fallen Napoleon was gone. Soon all went on in the +ordinary way, and in our little town, isolated in the midst of its +forest, one might have thought no changes had taken place; people had +had an evil dream--that was all. + +My memories of this period are chiefly memories of the woods--shooting +parties, now and then a wolf or boar hunt, often a poaching adventure +with a friend. But at fifteen years of age I was placed in a notary's +office; at sixteen I learned to love, and shortly afterwards I saw +"Hamlet" played by a touring company. It made a profound impression on +me, awakening vast, aimless desires, strange gleams of mystery. A friend +of mine, Adolphe de Leuven, himself an ardent versifier, guided me to a +first sense of my vocation, and together we set to work as playwrights. + +Adolphe and his father went up to live in Paris, and our plays were +submitted everywhere in vain. My ardour for the great city grew daily +until it became irresistible; and at length, in the temporary absence of +my notary, I made a three days' escape with a friend, saw Talma act, and +was even introduced to him by Adolphe. His playing opened a new world to +me, and the great man playfully foretold my destiny. + +As one enchanted, I returned to the office, accepted my employers' +rebuke as a dismissal, and went home. I was without a penny, but was +immediately visited by a wonderful run of fortune. Among other strokes +of luck, I sold my rascal dog for $25 to an infatuated Englishman, and +won six hundred glasses of absinthe at a single game of billiards from +the proprietor of the Paris coach, commuting them for a dozen free +passages. I said good-bye to the dear mother and the saintly _abbé_, and +found myself early on a May morning at Adolphe's door. I had come to try +my fortune with my father's brothers-at-arms. + +Of course, there were bitter disappointments, and when I called on +General Foy he was my last hope. Alas! did I know this subject, or that, +or that? My answer was always "No." But the general would at least keep +my address; and no sooner had I written it down than he cried aloud that +we were saved! It appeared that I had a good writing, and the Duke of +Orleans needed another copyist in his office. The next morning I was +engaged at a salary of twelve hundred francs. I came home for three days +with my mother, and on the advice of the bird-catcher took a ticket at +the lottery, which brought me 146 francs. And so, with a few bits of +furniture from home, I took up my lodging in a Parisian garret. + + +_II.--Launched in Paris_ + + +Now began a life of daily work at the office, with agreeable companions, +and of evenings spent at the theatre or in study. On the first night I +went to the Porte-Sainte-Martin Theatre, where a melodrama, "The +Vampire," was presented, and fell into conversation with my neighbour, a +man of about forty, of fascinating discourse, who was inordinately +impatient with the piece, and was at last turned out of the theatre for +his expressions of disapproval. His talk, far more interesting than the +play, turned on rare editions of old books, on the sylphs, gnomes, +Undines of the invisible world, on microscopic creatures he had himself +discovered, and on vampires he had seen in Illyria. I learned next day +that this was the celebrated author and bibliophile, Charles Nodier, +himself one of the anonymous authors of the play he so vilified. + +Lassagne, a genial colleague in the office, not only put me in the way +of doing my work, which I quickly picked up, but was good enough also to +guide my reading, for I was deplorably ignorant. In those days Scribe +was the great dramatist, producing innumerable clever plots of intrigue, +modelled on no natural society, but on a society all his own, composed +almost exclusively of colonels, young widows, old soldiers, and faithful +servants. No one had ever seen such widows and colonels, never soldiers +spoke as these did, never were servants so devoted; yet this society of +Scribe's was all the fashion. + +The men most highly placed in literature at the time when I came to +Paris were MM. de Chateaubriand, Jouy, Lemercier, Arnault, Etienne, +Baour-Lormian, Béranger, Charles Nodier, Viennet Scribe, Théaulon, +Soumet, Casimir Delavigne, Lucien Arnault, Ancelot, Lamartine, Victor +Hugo, Désaugiers, and Alfred de Vigny. After them came names half +literary, half political, such as MM. Cousin, Salvandy, Yillemain, +Thiers, Augustin Thierry, Michelet, Mignet, Vitet, Cavé, Mérimée, and +Guizot. Others, who were not yet known, but were coming forward, were +Balzac, Soulié, De Musset, Sainte-Beuve, Auguste Barbier, Alphonse Karr, +Théophile Gautier. Madame Sand was not known until her "Indiana," in +1828. I knew all this constellation, some of them as friends and +supporters, others as enemies. + +In December, 1823, Talma made perhaps the greatest success of his life +in Delavigne's "L'Ecole des Vieillards," in which his power of +modulating his voice to the various emotions of old age was superbly +shown. But Talma was never content with his triumphs; he awaited eagerly +the rise of a new drama; and when I confided to him my ambitions, he +would urge me to be quick and succeed within his day. Art was all that +he lived for. How wonderful a thing is art, more faithful than a friend +or lover! + +On the first day of 1824 I rose to be a regular clerk at 1,500 francs, +and determined to bring up my mother from the country. It was now nine +months since I had seen her. So she sold her tobacco shop and came up to +Paris with a little furniture and a hundred louis. We were both very +glad to be united, though she was anxious about my future. + +I had by this time learned my ignorance of much that was necessary to my +success as a dramatist, and began to devote every hour of my leisure to +study, attending the theatre as often as I could get a pass. A young +medical man named Thibaut helped me much in my education; he took me to +the hospital, where I picked up a knowledge of medicine and surgery +which has repeatedly done service in my novels, and I learned from him +the actions of poisons, such as I have used in "Monte Cristo." + +I read also under the guidance of Lassagne, beginning with "Ivanhoe," in +which the pictures of mediæval life cleared the clouds from my vision +and gave me a far wider horizon. Next the vast forests, prairies, and +oceans of Cooper held me; and then I came to Byron, who died in Greece +at the very time when I was entering on my apprenticeship to poetry. The +romantic movement in France was beginning to invade literature and the +drama, but its expression was still most evident in the younger +painters. + +My mother's little capital only lasted eighteen months, and I found +myself forced to supplement my salary by other work. I had until now +collaborated with Adolphe, but all in vain, and we now determined to +associate Ph. Rousseau with our efforts. The three of us together +quickly produced a vaudeville in twenty-one scenes, "La Chasse et +l'Amour," of which I wrote the first seven scenes, Adolphe the second +seven, and Rousseau the conclusion. The piece was rejected at the +Gymnase, but accepted at the Ambigu; and my share of the profits came to +six francs a night. + +A.M. Porcher, who always had a pleasant welcome and an open purse for a +literary man, lent me 300 francs on the security of my receipts, and +with that money I printed a volume of three stories under the title of +"Nouvelles Contemporaines," of which, however, only four copies were +sold. But the next adventure was more profitable. A play, by Lassagne +and myself, "La Noce et l'Enterrement," was presented at the +Porte-Sainte-Martin in November 1826, and brought me eight francs a +night for forty nights. + + +_III.--Under Shakespeare's Spell_ + + +As recently as 1822 an English theatrical company, which had opened at +the Porte-Sainte-Martin Theatre, had been hissed and pelted off the +stage for offering the dramas of the barbaric Shakespeare. But when, in +September 1827, another English company brought Shakespeare's plays to +the Odéon, this contempt for English literature had changed to ardent +admiration--so quickly had the mind of Paris broadened. Shakespeare had +been translated by Guizot, and everyone had read Scott, Cooper, and +Byron. + +The English season was opened by Sheridan's "Rivals," followed by +Allingham's "Fortune's Freak." Then came "Hamlet," which infinitely +surpassed all my expectations. Kemble's Hamlet was amazing, and Miss +Smithson's Ophelia adorable. From that very night, but not before, I +knew what the theatre was. I had seen for the first time real men and +women, of flesh and blood, moved by real passions. I understood Talma's +continual lament, his incessant desire for plays which should show him, +not as a hero only, but also as a man. "Romeo and Juliet," "Othello," +and all the other masterpieces followed. Then, in their turn, Macready +and Kean appeared in Paris. + +I knew now that everything in the world of drama derives from +Shakespeare, as everything in the natural world depends on the sun; I +knew that, after God, Shakespeare was the great creator. And from the +night when I had first seen, in these English players, men on the stage +forgetful of the stage, and revealing themselves, by natural eloquence +and manner, as God's creatures, with all their good and evil, their +passions and weaknesses, from that night my vocation was irrevocable. A +new confidence was given me, and I boldly adventured on the future. +Besides observing mankind, I entered with redoubled zest upon the +dissection and study of the words of the great dramatists. + +My attention had been turned to the story of Christine and the murder of +Monaldeschi by an exquisite little bas-relief in the Salon; and reading +up the history in the biographical dictionary, I saw that it held the +possibility of a tremendous drama. The subject haunted my mind +continually, and soon my "Christine" came into life and was written. But +Talma was dead; I had now no friend at the theatre; and I cast about me +in vain for the means of getting my play produced. + +Baron Taylor was at this time the official charged with the acceptance +or rejection of plays, and Charles Nodier, so Lassagne informed me, was +on intimate terms with him. Lassagne suggested that I should write to +Nodier, reminding him of our chat on the night of "The Vampire," and +asking for an introduction to the Baron. I did so, and the reply came +from Baron Taylor himself, offering me an interview at seven in the +morning. + +At the appointed time, my heart beating fast, I rang the bell of his +flat, and as I waited for someone to come, I wondered at a strange noise +that was going on within--a deep, monotonous recitation, interrupted by +occasional explosions of rage in a higher voice. I rang for the third +time, and as a door opened within, the mysterious sounds doubled in +volume. Then the outer door opened, and the Baron's old servant hurried +me in. "Come in, sir," she said, "come in; the Baron is longing for you +to come!" I found Baron Taylor in his bath, and beside him a playwright +reading a tragedy. The fellow had insisted on entering, had caught the +examiner of plays in his bath, and was inflicting on him a play of over +two thousand lines! Undaunted by the Baron's rage, and unmoved by my +arrival, he proceeded with his reading, while I waited in the bedroom. + +When Baron Taylor at last came in and got into bed, he was shivering +with cold, and I proposed to put off my reading; but he would not hear +of it, and trembling, I began my play. At the end of each act the Baron +himself asked for the next, and when it was finished he leapt from bed +and called for his clothes that he might go and arrange for an immediate +hearing before the committee at the Français. + +And so a special meeting was called, and I read "Christine" to a +gathering of the greatest actors and actresses of the time, all fully +dressed as if for a dance. I have rarely seen a play meet with so great +a success at this ordeal; I was off my head with pleasure; the play was +accepted by acclamation. I ran home to our rooms to tell my mother the +great news of this great day, April 30, 1828, and then back to the +office to copy out a heap of papers. + +"Christine" was not, however, produced at this time. Another play on the +same subject, written by a M. Brault, had also been accepted by the +committee, and its author was suffering from an illness from which it +was impossible that he should recover. Under these circumstances it was +felt right to present the dying man's play while he was able to see it, +and I willingly acceded to the requests, made by his son and friends, +that my work should stand aside. + + +_IV.--Dumas Arrives_ + + +But now, by a happy chance, in a book that lay open on a table in the +office, I came across the suggestions for my "Henry III."; and as soon +as the plot had grown clear in my mind, I wrote the play in a couple of +months. I was only twenty-five, and this was only my second play; yet it +is as well constructed as any of the fifty which I have since written. + +Béranger, the great poet of democracy, and a man at that time of +unrivalled influence, was present at a private reading of "Henry III.," +and foretold its great success. The official reading was on September +17, 1828, when the play was accepted by acclamation, and the parts were +cast. But my good fortune had not got into the papers, and this, as well +as my frequent absences at the theatre, had done me no good at the +office. So I was sent for one morning by M. de Broval, the +director-general, and was given, in set terms, my choice between my +situation as a clerk and my literary career. Only one choice was now +possible, and from that very day my salary ceased. + +The year 1829 was that in which my position was made and my future +assured. But it opened with a great sorrow. I was one day at the theatre +when a messenger ran in to tell me that my mother had fallen ill. I sent +for a doctor, hurried to her side, and found that she was unable to +speak, and that one side of her body was totally paralysed. My sister +was soon with us, having come up to town for the first night of the +play. My state of mind during the following days may be imagined, under +the dreadful affliction of seeing my mother dying, and under the +enormous burden of producing my first play. + +On the day before the presentation of "Henry III.," I went to the +palace, sent in my name to the Duke of Orleans, and boldly asked him the +favour, or, rather, the act of justice, that he would be present at the +theatre on the first night. I pointed out to him that he had given ear +to those who had charged me with vanity and willfulness, and begged him +to come and hear the verdict of the public. When his Highness told me +that he could not come, because he had over a score of princes and +princesses dining with him on that night, I suggested that he should +bring them too. And so it was arranged. + +February 11, so long awaited, dawned at last, and I spent the whole day +until evening with my mother. I had given an order for the play to every +one of my old colleagues at the office; I had a tiny stage-box; my +sister had a box in which she entertained Boulanger, De Vigny, and +Victor Hugo; every other place in the theatre was sold. The circle was +gorgeous with princes decorated with their orders, and the boxes with +the nobility, the ladies all glittering with diamonds. + +The curtain went up. I have never felt anything to compare with the cool +breath of air from the stage, which fanned my heated brow. The first act +was received sympathetically, and was followed by applause, and I seized +the interval to run and see my mother. The second act passed without +disapproval. The third, I knew, would mean success or disaster. It +called forth cries of fear, but also thunders of applause; never before +had they seen a dramatic situation so realistically, I had almost said +so brutally, presented. Again I visited my mother; how I wished she +could have been there! Then came the fourth and fifth acts, which were +received by a tumultuous frenzy of delight; and when the author's name +was called, the Duke of Orleans himself stood up to honour it. + +The days of struggle were over, the triumph had come. Utterly unknown +that evening, I was next morning the talk of Paris. They little knew +that I had spent the night on the floor, by the bed of my dying mother. + + * * * * * + + + + +JOHN EVELYN + + +Diary + + + John Evelyn, English country gentleman, courtier, diarist, and + miscellaneous author, was born at Wotton, in Surrey, on + October 31, 1620, and was educated at Lewes, and then at + Balliol College, Oxford. He then lived at the Middle Temple, + London; but after the death of Strafford, disliking the + unsettled state of England, he spent three months in the Low + Countries. Returning for a short time to England, he followed + the Royalist army for three days; but his prudence overcame + his loyalty, and, crossing the Channel again, he wandered for + four years in France and Italy. His observations abroad are + minutely recorded in the "Diary," which in its earlier part + too often resembles a guide-book. Having married, in Paris, + the British ambassador's daughter, Evelyn made his home, in + 1652, at Sayes Court, Deptford, until he moved, in 1694; to + Wotton, where he died on February 27, 1706. He was honourably + employed, after the Restoration, on many public commissions, + and was one of the founders of the Royal Society. Like his + friend Samuel Pepys, Evelyn was a man of very catholic tastes, + and wrote on a multitude of subjects, including history, + politics, education, the fine arts, gardening, and especially + forestry, his "Sylva, or a Discourse of Forest Trees," 1664, + being, after the "Diary," his most famous work. Evelyn's + character is very engaging in its richness, uprightness, and + lively interests. His "Diary," like that of Pepys, lay long + unpublished, and first saw the light in 1818. + + +_I.--Early Years_ + + +I was born at Wotton, in the county of Surrey, October 31, 1620, after +my father had been married about seven years, and my mother had borne +him two daughters and one son. + +My father's countenance was clear and fresh-coloured, his eyes quick and +piercing, an ample forehead and manly aspect. He was ascetic and +sparing; his wisdom was great, his judgement acute; affable, humble, and +in nothing affected; of a thriving, silent, and methodical genius. He +was distinctly severe, yet liberal on all just occasions to his +children, strangers, and servants, a lover of hospitality; of a singular +and Christian moderation in all his actions. He was justice of the +peace, and served his country as high sheriff for Surrey and Sussex +together, and was a person of rare conversation. His estate was esteemed +about £4,000 per annum, well wooded, and full of timber. + +My mother was of an ancient and honourable family in Shropshire. She was +of proper personage, of a brown complexion, her eyes and hair of a +lovely black, of constitution inclined to a religious melancholy or +pious sadness, of a rare memory and most exemplary life, for economy and +prudence esteemed one of the most conspicuous in her country. + +Wotton, the mansion house of my father, is in the southern part of the +shire, three miles from Dorking, and is upon part of Leith Hill, one of +the most eminent in England for the prodigious prospect to be seen from +its summit. + +From it may be discerned twelve or thirteen counties, with part of the +sea on the coast of Sussex on a serene day. The house large and ancient, +suitable to those hospitable times, and sweetly environed with delicious +streams and venerable woods. + +_November_ 3, 1640. A day never to be mentioned without a curse, began +that long, foolish, and fatal Parliament, the beginning of all our +sorrows for twenty years after. + +_January_ 2, 1641. We at night followed the hearse to the church at +Wotton, where my father was interred, and mingled with the ashes of our +mother, his dear wife. Thus we were bereft of both our parents in a +period when we most of all stood in need of their counsel and +assistance, especially myself, of a raw and unwary inclination. + + +_II.--Travels Abroad_ + + +_May_ 12, 1641. I beheld on Tower Hill the fatal stroke which severed +the wisest head in England from the shoulders of the Earl of Strafford, +whose crime coming under the cognisance of no human law, a new one was +made to his destruction--to such exorbitancy were things arrived. + +_July_ 21. Having procured a pass at the custom-house, embarked in a +Dutch frigate bound for Flushing, convoyed by five other stout vessels, +whereof one was a man-of-war. + +_April_ 19, 1644. Set out from Paris for Orleans. The way, as indeed +most of the roads in France, is paved with a small square freestone, so +that there is little dirt and bad roads, as in England, only it is +somewhat hard to the poor horses' feet. + +_October_ 7. We had a most delicious journey to Marseilles, through a +country full of vineyards, oliveyards, orange-trees, and the like sweet +plantations, to which belong pleasantly situated villas built all of +freestone. + +We went to visit the galleys; the captain of the galley-royal gave us +most courteous entertainment in his cabin, the slaves playing loud and +soft music. Then he showed us how he commanded their motions with a nod +and his whistle, making them row out. The spectacle was to me new and +strange, to see so many hundreds of miserably naked persons, having +their heads shaven close, and having only high red bonnets, a pair of +coarse canvas drawers, their whole backs and legs naked, doubly chained +about their middles and legs in couples, and made fast to their seats, +and all commanded by a cruel seaman. Their rising forward and falling +back at their oar is a miserable spectacle, and the noise of their +chains with the roaring of the beaten waters has something of the +strange and fearful to one unaccustomed to it. They are chastised on the +least disorder, and without the least humanity; yet are they cheerful +and full of knavery. + +_January_ 31, 1645. Climbing a steep hill in Naples, we came to the +monastery of the Carthusians, from whence is a most goodly prospect +towards the sea and city, the one full of galleys and ships, the other +of stately palaces, churches, castles, gardens, delicious fields and +meadows, Mount Vesuvius smoking, doubtless one of the most considerable +vistas in the world. + +The inhabitants greatly affect the Spanish gravity in their habit, +delight in good horses; the streets are full of gallants on horseback, +in coaches, and sedans. The country people are so jovial and addicted to +music that the very husbandmen almost universally play on the guitar, +singing and composing songs in praise of their sweethearts, and will +commonly go to the field with their fiddle; they are merry, witty, and +genial, all which I much attribute to the excellent quality of the air. +They have a deadly hatred to the French, so that some of our company +were flouted at for wearing red cloaks, as the mode then was. + +This I made the end of my travels, sufficiently sated with rolling up +and down, since, from the report of divers experienced and curious +persons, I had been assured there was little more to be seen in the rest +of the civil world, after Italy, France, Flanders, and the Low Country, +but plain and prodigious barbarism. + +Thus, about February 7, we set out on our return to Rome by the same way +we came, not daring to adventure by sea, as some of our company were +inclined, for fear of Turkish pirates hovering on that coast. + + +_III.--Evelyn in England_ + + +_May_ 22, 1647. I had contracted a great friendship with Sir Richard +Browne, his majesty's Resident at the Court of France, his lady and +family, and particularly set my affections on a daughter. + +_June_ 10. We concluded about my marriage, and on Thursday 27, Dr. Earle +married us in Sir Richard Browne's chapel, betwixt the hours of eleven +and twelve some few select friends being present; and this being Corpus +Christi, feast was solemnly observed in this country; the streets were +sumptuously hung with tapestry and strewn with flowers. + +_July_ 8, 1656. At Ipswich--one of the sweetest, most pleasant, +well-built towns in England. I had the curiosity to visit some Quakers +here in prison--a new fanatic sect, of dangerous principles, who show no +respect to any man, magistrate or other, and seem a melancholy, proud +sort of people, and exceedingly ignorant. + +_November_ 2. There was now nothing practical preached in the pulpits, +or that pressed reformation of life, but high and speculative points +that few understood, which left people very ignorant and of no steady +principles, the source of all our sects and divisions, for there was +much envy and uncharity in the world--God of His mercy amend it! + +_January_ 27, 1658. After six fits of an ague died my dear son Richard, +to our inexpressible grief and affliction, five years and three days +only, but at that tender age a prodigy for wit and understanding, and +for beauty of body a very angel. At two years and a half old he could +perfectly read any of the English, Latin, French, or Gothic letters, +pronouncing the three first languages perfectly. He had before the fifth +year, or in that year, not only skill to read most written hands, but to +decline all the nouns, conjugate the verbs regular, and most of the +irregular; got by heart almost the entire vocabulary of Latin and French +primitives and words, could make congruous syntax, turn English into +Latin and _vice versa_, construe and prove what he read, began himself +to write legibly, and had a strong passion for Greek. The number of +verses he could recite was prodigious, and he had a wonderful +disposition to mathematics. As to his piety, astonishing were his +applications of Scripture upon occasion, and his sense of God. He was +all life, all prettiness, far from morose, sullen or childish in +anything he said or did. Such a child I never saw; for such a child I +bless God, in whose bosom he is! + +_November_ 22. Saw the superb funeral of the Protector. He was carried +from Somerset House in a velvet bed of state, drawn by six horses housed +with the same, the pall held up by his new lords; Oliver lying in effigy +in royal robes, and with a crown, sceptre and globe, like a king; +pendants carried by officers, imperial banners by the heralds; a rich +caparisoned horse, embroidered all over with gold, a knight of honour +armed _cap-à-pie_, guards, soldiers, and innumerable mourners. In this +equipage they proceeded to Westminster; but it was the joyfullest +funeral I ever saw, for there were none that cried but dogs, which the +soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and taking tobacco +in the streets as they went. + +_May_ 29, 1660. This day his Majesty Charles II. came to London after a +sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the king and church, +being seventeen years. This also was his birthday, and with a triumph of +above 20,000 horse and foot, brandishing their swords and shouting with +inexpressible joy; the ways strewed with flowers, the bells ringing, the +streets hung with tapestry, fountains running with wine; the mayor, +aldermen, and all the companies in their liveries, chains of gold, and +banners; lords and nobles clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the +windows and balconies all set with ladies; trumpets, music, and myriads +of people flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were seven +hours in passing the city. I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and +blessed God. + +_January_ 6, 1661. This night was suppressed a bloody insurrection of +some fifth-monarchy enthusiasts. + +I was now chosen a Fellow of the Philosophical Society, now meeting at +Gresham College, where was an assembly of divers learned gentlemen; this +being the first meeting since the king's return; but it had been begun +some years before at Oxford, and was continued with interruption here in +London during the Rebellion. + +_January_ 16. I went to the Philosophic Club, where was examined the +Torricellian experiment. I presented my Circle of Mechanical Trades, and +had recommended to me the publishing of what I had written upon +chalcography. + +_January_ 30. This day--O the stupendous and inscrutable judgements of +God!--were the carcases of those arch-rebels Cromwell, Bradshawe, and +Ireton dragged out from their superb tombs in Westminster among the +kings, to Tyburn, and hanged on the gallows there from morning till +night, and then buried under that ignominious monument in a deep pit; +thousands of people who had seen them in all their pride being +spectators. Look back at November 22, 1658, and be astonished! And fear +God and honour the king; but meddle not with them who are given to +change! + +_July_ 31, 1662. I sat with the commissioners about reforming the +buildings and streets of London, and we ordered the paving of the way +from St. James's north, which was a quagmire, and also of the Haymarket +about Piqudillo [Piccadilly]. + +_August_ 23. I was spectator of the most magnificent triumph that ever +floated on the Thames, considering the innumerable boats and vessels, +dressed and adorned with all imaginable pomp, but above all, the +thrones, arches, pageants, and other representations, stately barges of +the Lord Mayor and Companies, with music and peals of ordnance from the +vessels and the shore, going to meet and conduct the new queen from +Hampton Court to Whitehall, at the time of her first coming to town. His +majesty and the queen came in an antique-shaped open vessel, covered +with a canopy of cloth of gold, made in the form of a cupola, supported +with high Corinthian pillars, wreathed with flowers and festoons. + + +_IV.--Plague and Fire_ + + +_July_ 16, 1665. There died of the plague in London this week 1,100, and +in the week following above 2,000. + +_August_ 28. The contagion still increasing, I sent my wife and whole +family to my brother's at Wotton, being resolved to stay at my house +myself and to look after my charge, trusting in the providence and +goodness of God. + +_September_ 7. Came home from Chatham. Perishing near 10,000 poor +creatures weekly. However, I went all along the city and suburbs from +Kent Street to St. James's, a dismal passage, and dangers to see so many +coffins exposed in the streets, now thin of people; the shops shut up, +and all in mournful silence, as not knowing whose turn might be next. I +went to the Duke of Albemarle for a pest-ship, for our infected men. + +_September_ 2, 1666. This fatal night, about ten, began that deplorable +fire near Fish Street in London. + +_September_ 3. After dinner I took coach with my wife and son, and went +to the Bank Side in Southwark, where we beheld the dismal spectacle, the +whole city in dreadful flames near the water-side. + +The fire having continued all this night, which was as light as day for +ten miles round, in a dreadful manner, I went on foot to the same place. +The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that +from the beginning they hardly stirred to quench it, so that there was +nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like +distracted creatures, without attempting to save even their goods. It +leapt after a prodigious manner from house to house, and street to +street, at great distances one from the other. Here we saw the Thames +covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what +some had time and courage to save. And the fields for many miles were +strewn with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both +people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the miserable and +calamitous spectacle! London was, but is no more! + +_October_ 17, 1671. My Lord Henry Howard would needs have me go with him +to Norwich. I was not hard to be persuaded, having a desire to see that +famous scholar and physician, Dr. T. Browne, author of the "Religio +Medici," now lately knighted. Thither, then, went my lord and I alone in +his flying chariot with six horses. + +Next morning I went to see Sir Thomas Browne. His whole house and garden +were a paradise and cabinet of rarities, especially medals, books, +plants, and natural things. Sir Thomas had a collection of the eggs of +all the birds he could procure, that country being frequented by several +birds which seldom or never go farther into the land--as cranes, storks, +eagles, and variety of waterfowl. He led me to see all the remarkable +places of this ancient city, being one of the largest and noblest in +England. + +_January_ 5, 1674. I saw an Italian opera in music, the first that had +been in England of this kind. + +_November_ 15, 1678. The queen's birthday. I never saw the court more +brave, nor the nation in more apprehension and consternation. Titus +Oates has grown so presumptuous as to accuse the queen of intending to +poison the king, which certainly that pious and virtuous lady abhorred +the thought of. Oates probably thought to gratify some who would have +been glad his majesty should have married a fruitful lady; but the king +was too kind a husband to let any of these make impression on him. +However, divers of the Popish peers were sent to the Tower, accused by +Oates, and all the Roman Catholic lords were by a new Act for ever +excluded the Parliament, which was a mighty blow. + +_May_ 5, 1681. Came to dine with me Sir Christopher Wren, his majesty's +architect and surveyor, now building the cathedral of St. Paul, and the +column in memory of the City's conflagration, and was in hand with the +building of fifty parish churches. A wonderful genius had this +incomparable person. + +_January_ 24, 1684. The frost continuing more and more severe, the +Thames before London was planted with booths in formal streets, all +sorts of trades and shops furnished and full of commodities, even to a +printing press. Coaches plied from Westminster to the Temple, as in the +streets; sleds, sliding with skates, bull-baiting, horse and coach +races, puppet plays, cooks, tippling, so that it seemed to be a carnival +on the water; while it was a severe judgement on the land, the trees +splitting, men and cattle perishing, and the very seas locked up with +ice. London was so filled with the fuliginous steam of the coal that +hardly could one see across the streets, and this filling the lungs with +its gross particles, so as one could scarcely breathe. + + +_V.--Fall of the Stuarts_ + + +_February_ 4, 1685. King Charles II. is dead. He was a prince of many +virtues, and many great imperfections; debonair, easy of access, not +bloody nor cruel; his countenance fierce, his voice great, proper of +person, every motion became him; a lover of the sea, and skillful in +shipping; he loved planting and building, and brought in a politer way +of living, which passed to luxury and expense. He would have been an +excellent prince had he been less addicted to women, who made him always +in want to supply their immeasurable profusion. + +Certainly never had king more glorious opportunities to have made +himself, his people, and all Europe happy, had not his too easy nature +resigned him to be managed by crafty men, and some abandoned and profane +wretches who corrupted his otherwise sufficient parts. + +I can never forget the inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming and +all dissoluteness, and, as it were, total forgetfulness of God (it being +Sunday evening) which day se'nnight I was witness of, the king sitting +and toying with his concubines, a French boy singing love-songs, in that +glorious gallery, while twenty great courtiers and other dissolute +persons were gaming at a large table, a bank of at least £2,000 in gold +before them. Six days after all was in the dust! + +_November_ 5, 1688. I went to London, heard the news of the Prince of +Orange having landed at Torbay, coming with a fleet of near 700 sail, +passing through the Channel with so favourable a wind that our navy +could not intercept them. This put the king and court into great +consternation. + +_November_ 13. The Prince of Orange is advanced to Windsor, and is +invited by the king to St. James's. The prince accepts the invitation, +but requires his majesty to retire to some distant place, that his own +guards may be quartered about the palace and city. This is taken +heinously, and the king goes privately to Rochester; is persuaded to +come back; comes on the Sunday, goes to mass, and dines in public, a +Jesuit saying grace. I was present. + +_November_ 18. All the world go to see the prince at St. James's, where +there is a great court. He is very stately, serious, and reserved. + +_November 24_. The king passes into France, whither the queen and child +were gone a few days before. + +_May_ 26, 1703. This day died Mr. Sam Pepys, a very worthy, industrious, +and curious person; none in England exceeding him in knowledge of the +navy, in which he had passed through all the most considerable offices, +all of which he performed with great integrity. When King James II. went +out of England, he laid down his office, and would serve no more; but, +withdrawing himself from all public affairs, he lived at Clapham with +his partner, Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in a very noble house and +sweet place, where he enjoyed the fruit of his labours in great +prosperity. He was universally beloved, hospitable, generous, learned in +many things, skilled in music, a very great cherisher of learned men. +His library and collection of other curiosities were of the most +considerable, the models of ships especially. + +_October_ 31, 1705. I am this day arrived to the eighty-fifth year of my +age. Lord teach me so to number my days to come that I may apply them to +wisdom! + + * * * * * + + + + +JOHN FORSTER + + +Life of Goldsmith + + + John Forster is best remembered as writer of the biographies + of the statesmen of the commonwealth, of Goldsmith, Landor, + Dickens. To his own generation he was for twenty years one of + the ablest of London journalists. In his later days, as a + Commissioner in Lunacy, he had time to devote himself more + closely to historical research. He was born at Newcastle on + April 2, 1812, was turned aside from the Bar by success in + newspaper work, and became editor first of the "Foreign + Quarterly Review," then of the "Daily News," on which he + succeeded Dickens, and lastly of "The Examiner." His "Life of + Goldsmith" was published in 1848, and enlarged in 1854. + Forster was different from all that he looked. He seemed + harsh, exacting, and stubborn. He was one of the most loyal of + friends, and tender-hearted towards all good fellows, alive or + dead. His picture of Goldsmith is an understanding defence of + that strangely-speckled genius, written from the heart. + Forster died on February 1, 1876, two years after his + retirement from official life. + + +_I.--Misery and Ill-luck_ + + +The marble in Westminster Abbey is correct in the place, but not in the +time, of the birth of Oliver Goldsmith. He was born at a small old +parsonage house in an almost inaccessible Irish village called Pallas, +in Longford, November 10, 1728. His father, the Rev. Charles Goldsmith, +was a Protestant clergyman with an uncertain stipend, which, with the +help of some fields he farmed, averaged forty pounds a year. They who +have lived, laughed, and wept with the father of the man in black in the +"Citizen of the World," the preacher of "The Deserted Village," or the +hero of "The Vicar of Wakefield," have given laughter, love, and tears +to the Rev. Charles Goldsmith. + +Oliver had not completed his second year when the family moved to a +respectable house and farm on the verge of the pretty little village of +Lissoy, in West Meath. Here the schoolmistress who first put a book into +Oliver Goldsmith's hands confessed, "Never was so dull a boy; he seemed +impenetrably stupid." + +Yet all the charms of Goldsmith's later style are to be traced in the +letters of his youth, and he began to scribble verses when he could +scarcely write. At the age of eight he went to the Rev. Mr. Gilpin's +superior school of Elphin, in Roscommon, where he was considered "a +stupid, heavy blockhead, little better than a fool, whom everyone made +fun of." Indeed, from his earliest youth he was made to feel an intense, +uneasy consciousness of supposed defects. Later he went to school at +Athlone and at Edgeworthstown, and was in every school trick, either as +an actor or a victim. On leaving the school at Edgeworthstown, Oliver +entered Dublin University as a sizar, "at once studying freedom and +practising servitude." Little went well with him in his student course. +He had a menial position, a savage brute for a tutor, and few +inclinations to the study exacted. But he was not without his +consolations; he could sing a song well, and, at a new insult, could +blow off excitement through his flute. The popular picture of him in +these days is of a slow, hesitating, somewhat hollow voice, a low-sized, +thick, robust, ungainly figure, lounging about the college courts on the +wait for misery and ill-luck. + +In Oliver's second year at college his father died suddenly, and the +scanty sum required for his support stopped. Squalid poverty relieved by +occasional gifts was Goldsmith's lot thenceforward. He would write +street-ballads to save himself from actual starving, sell them for five +shillings a-piece, and steal out of the college at night to hear them +sung. It is said to have been a rare occurrence when the five shillings +reached home with him. It was more likely, when he was at his utmost +need, to stop with some beggar on the road who had seemed to him even +more destitute than himself. + +He took his degree as bachelor of arts on February 27, 1749 and +returning to his mother's house, at Ballymahon, waited till he could +qualify himself for orders. This is the sunny time between two dismal +periods of his life--the day occupied in the village school, the winter +nights in presiding at Conway's inn, the summer evenings strolling up +the banks of the Inny to play the flute, learning French from the Irish +priests, or winning a prize for throwing a sledge-hammer at the fair. + +When the time came for Goldsmith to take orders, one report says he did +not deem himself good enough for it, and another says that he presented +himself before the Bishop of Elphin in scarlet breeches; but in truth +his rejection is the only certainty. + +A year's engagement as a tutor followed, and from it he returned home +with thirty pounds in his pocket, and was the undisputed owner of a good +horse. Thus furnished and mounted he set off for Cork with a vision of +going to America, but returned presently with only five shillings and a +horse he had bought for one pound seventeen. + +Law was the next thing thought of, and his uncle Contarine, who had +married his father's sister, came forward with fifty pounds. With this +sum Oliver started for London, but gambled it all away in Dublin. In +bitter shame he wrote to his uncle, confessed, and was forgiven, and the +good uncle then made up a small purse to carry him to Edinburgh for the +study of medicine. + +No traditions remain in Edinburgh as to the character or extent of +Goldsmith's studies there, but it may be supposed that his eighteen +months' residence was, on the whole, not unprofitable. A curious +document that has been discovered is a torn leaf of a tailor's ledger +radiant with "rich sky-blue satin, fine sky-blue shalloon, a superfine +silver-laced small hat, rich black Genoa velvet, and superfine high +claret-coloured cloth," ordered by Mr. Oliver Goldsmith, student. + + +_II.--Through Europe with a Flute_ + + +From Edinburgh he sailed for Leyden, but called on the way at Newcastle +and saw enough of England to be able to say that "of all objects on this +earth an English farmer's daughter is the most charming." Little is +known of his pursuits at Leyden, where his principal means of support +were as a teacher. After staying there nearly a year, he quitted it +(1755) at the age of twenty-seven, for a travel tour through Europe, +with a guinea in his pocket, one shirt on his back, and a flute in his +hand. + +Goldsmith started on his travels in February, 1755, and stepped ashore +at Dover February 1, 1756. For his route it is necessary to consult his +writings. His letters of the time have perished. In later life, Foote +tells us, "he frequently used to talk, with great pleasantry, of his +distresses on the Continent, such as living on the hospitalities of the +friars, sleeping in barns, and picking up a kind of mendicant livelihood +by the German flute." His early memoir-writers assert with confidence +that in some small portion of his travels he acted as companion to a +young man of large fortune. It is certain that the rude, strange +wandering life to which his nature for a time impelled him was an +education picked up from personal experience and by actual collision +with many varieties of men, and that it gave him on several social +questions much the advantage over the more learned of his +contemporaries. As he passed through Flanders, Louvain attracted him, +and here, according to his first biographer, he took the degree of +medical bachelor. This is likely enough. Certain it is he made some stay +at Louvain, became acquainted with its professors, and informed himself +of its modes of study. Some little time he also passed at Brussels. +Undoubtedly he visited Antwerp, and he rested a brief space in Paris. He +must have taken the lecture-rooms of Germany on his way to Switzerland. +Passing into that country he saw Schaffhausen frozen. Geneva was his +resting-place in Switzerland, but he visited Basle and Berne. Descending +into Piedmont, he saw Milan, Verona, Mantua, and Florence, and at Padua +is supposed to have stayed some six months, and, it has been asserted, +received his degree. "Sir," said Johnson to Boswell, "he _disputed_ his +passage through Europe." + + +_III.--Physic, Teaching, and Authorship_ + + +Landing at Dover without a farthing in his pocket, the traveller took +ten days to reach London, where an uncertain story says he gained +subsistence for a few months as an usher, under a feigned name. At last +a chemist of the name of Jacob, at the corner of Monument Yard, engaged +him. While employed among the drugs he met an old Edinburgh +fellow-student, Owen Sleigh, who, "with a heart as warm as ever, shared +his home and friendship." Goldsmith now began to practise as a physician +in a humble way, and through one of his patients was introduced to +Richardson and appointed for a short time reader and corrector to his +press in Salisbury Court. Next we find him at Peckham Academy, acting as +assistant to Dr. Milner, whose son had been at Edinburgh. + +Milner was a contributor to the "Monthly Review," published by +Griffiths, the bookseller, and at Milner's table Griffiths and Goldsmith +met, with the result that Goldsmith entered into an agreement to devote +himself to the "Monthly Review" for a year. In fulfilment of that +agreement Mr. and Mrs. Griffiths provided him with bed and board in +Paternoster Row, and, at the age of nine-and-twenty, he began his work +as an author by profession. + +The twelve months' agreement was not carried out. At the end of five +months Goldsmith left the "Monthly Review." During that period he had +reviewed Professor Mallet's translations of Scandinavian poetry and +mythology; Home's tragedy of "Douglas," Burke's "Origin of our Ideas of +the Sublime and Beautiful," Smollett's "Complete History of England," +and Gray's "Odes." Though he was no longer "a not unuseful assistant" to +Griffiths, he kept up an irregular business association with that +literary slave-driver. He also became a contributor to Newbery's +"Literary Magazine." At last, in despair, he turned again from the +miseries of Grub Street to Dr. Milner's school-room at Peckham, and, +after another brief period of teaching, Dr. Milner secured for him the +promise of an appointment as medical officer to one of the East India +Company's factories on the coast of Coromandel. Partly to utilise his +travel experiences in a more formal manner than had yet been possible, +and partly to provide funds for his equipment for foreign service, he +now wrote his "Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning in +Europe," and, leaving Dr. Milner's, became a contributor to Hamilton's +"Critical Review," a rival to Griffiths's "Monthly." In these days he +lived in a garret in Green Arbour Court, Old Bailey, with a single chair +in the room, and a window seat for himself if a visitor occupied the +chair. For some unknown reason the Coromandel appointment was withdrawn, +and failure in an examination as a hospital-mate left no hope except in +literature. + +The turning-point of Goldsmith's life was reached when Griffiths became +security for a new suit of clothes in which that unfortunate +hospital-mate examination might be attended. On Griffiths finding that +the new suit had been pawned to free the poet's landlady from the +bailiffs, he abused him as a sharper and a villain, and threatened to +proceed against him by law as a criminal. This attack forced from +Goldsmith the rejoinder, "Sir, I know of no misery but a jail to which +my own imprudences and your letter seem to point. I have seen it +inevitable these three or four weeks, and, by heavens! regard it as a +favour, as a favour that may prevent somewhat more fatal. I tell you +again and again I am now neither able nor willing to pay you a farthing, +but I will be punctual to any appointment you or the tailor shall make; +thus far at least I do not act the sharper, since, unable to pay my +debts one way, I would willingly give some security another. No, sir; +had I been a sharper, had I been possessed of less good nature and +native generosity, I might surely now have been in better circumstances. +My reflections are filled with repentance for my imprudence, but not +with any remorse for being a villain." + +The result of this correspondence was that Goldsmith contracted to write +for Griffiths a "Life of Voltaire"; the payment being twenty pounds, +with the price of the clothes to be deducted from the sum. + +In the autumn of 1759 Goldsmith commenced, for bookseller Wilkie, of St. +Paul's Churchyard, the weekly writing of "The Bee," a threepenny +magazine of essays. It ended with its eighth number, for the public +would not buy it. At the same time he was writing for Mr. Pottinger's +"Busybody," and Mr. Wilkie's "Lady's Magazine." "The Bee," though +unsuccessful, brought Goldsmith useful friends--Smollett and Garrick, +and Mr. Newbery, the publisher--and with the New Year (1760) he was +working with Smollett on "The British Magazine," and, immediately +afterwards, on Newbery's "Public Ledger," a daily newspaper, for which +he wrote two articles a week at a guinea for each article. Among the +articles were the series that still divert and instruct us--"The Citizen +of the World." This was the title given when the "Letters from a Chinese +Philosopher in London to his Friend in the East" were republished by +Newbery, at the end of the year. Goldsmith now began to know his own +value as a writer. + + +_IV.--Social and Literary Success_ + + +His widening reputation brought him into association and friendship with +Johnson, to whom he was introduced by Dr. Percy, the collector of the +"Reliques of Ancient English Poetry." Goldsmith gave a supper in honour +of his visitor, and when Percy called on Johnson to accompany him to +their host's lodgings, to his great astonishment he found Johnson in a +new suit of clothes, with a new wig, nicely powdered, perfectly +dissimilar from his usual appearance. On being asked the cause of this +transformation Johnson replied, "Why, sir, I hear that Goldsmith, who is +a very great sloven, justifies his disregard of cleanliness and decency +by quoting my practice; and I am desirous this night to show him a +better example." + +Johnson was perhaps the first literary man of the times who estimated +Goldsmith according to his true merits as a writer and thinker, and he +was repaid by an affectionate devotion that was never worn out during +the later years when the Dictator was too ready to make a butt of the +unready Irishman. Goldsmith now joined the group of literary friends who +gathered frequently at the shop of Tom Davies, the bookseller, where +Johnson and Boswell first met, and he was one of the famous Literary +Club which grew out of these meetings. + +"Sir," said Johnson to Boswell, at one of their first meetings, +"Goldsmith is one of the first men we have as an author." + +This was said at a time when all Goldsmith's best works had yet to be +written. He was still working for the booksellers, and in 1763, issued +anonymously a "History of England in a Series of Letters from a Nobleman +to his Son." To various noblemen credit for this popular work was given, +including Lord Chesterfield. Growing success was only an excuse for +growing extravagance, and in 1764 Goldsmith was placed temporarily under +arrest for debt, probably by his landlady, Mrs. Fleming, with whom he +had been living at Islington under an arrangement made by Newbery. His +withdrawal from the town had given him opportunities for congenial +labour on "The Traveller" and "The Vicar of Wakefield," and when Johnson +appeared, in answer to his urgent summons, it was the manuscript of "The +Vicar" that he carried off, and sold for sixty pounds, to relieve +immediate anxieties. + +Still, it was "The Traveller" that was first published (December 19, +1764). Johnson pronounced it a poem to which it would not be easy to +find anything equal since the death of Pope. The predominant impression +of "The Traveller" is of its naturalness and facility. The serene graces +of its style, and the mellow flow of its verse, take us captive before +we feel the enchantment of its lovely images of various life reflected +from its calm, still depths of philosophic contemplation. A fourth +edition was issued by August, and a ninth appeared in the year when the +poet died. The price paid for it by Newbery was, apparently, twenty +guineas. + +It was in the spring of 1766, fifteen months after it had been acquired +by Newbery, that "The Vicar of Wakefield" was published. No book upon +record has obtained a wider popularity, and none is more likely to +endure. It is our first pure example of the simple, domestic novel. As a +refuge from the compiling of books was this book undertaken. Simple to +baldness are the materials used, but Goldsmith threw into the midst of +them his own nature, his actual experience, the suffering, discipline, +and sweet emotion of his chequered life, and so made them a lesson and a +delight to all men. The book silently forced its way. No noise was made +about it, no trumpets were blown for it, but admiration gathered +steadily around it, and by August a third edition had been reached. + + +_V.--Poet, Dramatist, and Spendthrift_ + + +Goldsmith had long been a constant frequenter of the theatres, and one +of the most sagacious critics of the actors of his day; and it was +natural that, having succeeded as an essayist, a poet, and a novelist, +he should try his fortune with the drama. In 1767 a comedy was in +Garrick's hands, wherein, following the method of Farquhar, he attempted +by the help of nature, humour, and character, to invoke the spirit of +laughter, happy, unrestrained, and cordial. After long, and not very +friendly, temporising by the great actor, Goldsmith withdrew the play +from Drury Lane and committed it to Colman at Covent Garden; but it was +not till January 29, 1768, that "The Good-Natur'd Man" was acted. It +proved a reasonably fair success. Johnson, who wrote the prologue, went +to see the comedy rehearsed, and showed unwavering kindness to his +friend at this trying time. + +While the play was under discussion and preparation, Goldsmith was +engaged in writing for Tom Davies an easy, popular, "History of Rome," +in the style of his anonymous "Letters from a Nobleman to His Son," +proceeding with it at leisure in his cottage at Edgeware. The success of +"The Good-Natured Man," though far from equal to its claims of +character, wit, and humour, very sensibly affected its author's ways of +life. It put £500 in his pocket, which he at once proceeded to squander +on fine chambers in the Temple, and new suits of gay clothing followed +in quick succession. + +During the next year, 1769, the "Roman History" was published, and the +first month's sale established its success so firmly that Goldsmith +received an offer of £500 for a "History of England," in four volumes, +to be "written and compiled in two years." At the same time he was under +agreement for his "Natural History," or, as it was finally termed, his +"History of Animated Nature." + +These years of heavy work were among the happiest of Goldsmith's life, +for he had made the acquaintance of the Misses Horneck, girls of +nineteen and seventeen. The elder, Catherine, or "Little Comedy," was +already engaged; the younger, Mary, who had the loving nickname of the +"Jessamy Bride," exercised over him a strong fascination. Their social +as well as personal charms are uniformly spoken of by all. Mary, who did +not marry till after Goldsmith's death, lived long enough to be admired +by Hazlitt, to whom she talked of the poet with affection unabated by +age, till he "could almost fancy the shade of Goldsmith in the room, +looking round with complacency." + +It was during these years of busy bookmaking, too, that the poet was +perfecting his "Deserted Village." On May 26, 1770, it appeared, +published at two shillings. Its success was instant and decisive. By +August 16, a fifth edition had appeared. When Gray heard the poem read, +he exclaimed, "This man is a poet!" The judgment has since been affirmed +by hundreds of thousands of readers, and any adverse appeal is little +likely now to be lodged against it. Within the circle of its claims and +pretensions, a more entirely satisfactory and delightful poem than "The +Deserted Village" was probably never written. It lingers in the memory +where once it has entered; and such is the softening influence on the +heart of the mild, tender, yet clear light which makes its images so +distinct and lovely, that there are few who have not wished to rate it +higher than poetry of yet higher genius. Goldsmith looked into his heart +and wrote. + +The poet had now attained social distinction, and we find him passing +from town to country with titled friends, and visiting, in somewhat +failing health, fashionable resorts, such as Bath. His home remained in +the Temple. His worldly affairs continued a source of constant +embarrassment, however, and when, in 1772, he had placed the manuscript +of "She Stoops to Conquer" in the hands of Colman, not only his own +entreaties but the interference of Johnson were used to hasten its +production in order to relieve his anxieties. Colman was convinced the +comedy would be unsuccessful. It was first acted on March 15, 1773, and, +"quite the reverse to everybody's expectation," it was received with the +utmost applause. + +At this time Goldsmith was sadly in arrears with work he had promised to +the booksellers; disputes were pending, and his circumstances were +verging on positive distress. The necessity of completing his "Animated +Nature"--for which all the money had been received and spent--hung like +a mill-stone upon him. His advances had been considerable on other works +not yet begun. In what leisure he could get from these tasks he was +working at a "Grecian History" to procure means to meet his daily +liabilities. + +It occurred to friends at this time to agitate the question of a pension +for him, on the ground of "distinction in the literary world, and the +prospect of approaching distress," but as he had never been a political +partisan, the application was met by a firm refusal. Out of the worries +of this darkening period, with ill-health adding to his cares, the +genius of the poet flashed forth once more in his personal poem, +"Retaliation." At a club dinner at St. James's coffee-house, the +proposition was made that each member present should write an epitaph on +Goldsmith, and Garrick started with: + + Here is Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness called Noll, + Who wrote like an angel, and talked like poor Poll. + +Later, Goldsmith retaliated with epitaphs on his circle of club friends. +His list of discriminating pictures was not complete when he died. +Indeed, the picture of Reynolds breaks off with a half line. + +On March 25, 1774, the poet was too ill to attend the club +gathering--how ill, his friends failed to realise. On the morning of +April 4, he died from weakness following fever. "Is your mind at ease?" +asked his doctor. "No, it is not," was the melancholy answer, and his +last recorded words. His debts amounted to not less than two thousand +pounds. "Was ever poet so trusted!" exclaimed Johnson. + +His remains were committed to their final resting-place in the burial +ground of the Temple Church, and the staircase of his chambers is said +to have been filled with mourners the reverse of domestic--women without +a home, without domesticity of any kind, with no friend but him they had +come to weep for, outcasts of that great, solitary, wicked city, to whom +he had never forgotten to be kind and charitable. + +Johnson spoke his epitaph in an emphatic sentence: "He had raised money, +and squandered it, by every artifice of acquisition and folly of +expense; but let not his frailties be remembered--he was a very great +man." + + * * * * * + + + + +GEORGE FOX + + +Journal + + + George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, or "Friends + of the Truth," was born at Drayton, Leicestershire, in July, + 1624, and died in London on January 13, 1691. His "Journal," + here epitomised, was published in 1694, after being revised by + a committee under the superintendence of William Penn, and + prefaced for the press by Thomas Ellwood, the Quaker. Fox + rejected all outward shows of religion, and believed in an + inward light and leading. He claimed to be divinely directed + as he wandered, Bible in hand, through the country, denouncing + church-worship, a paid ministry, religious "profession," and + advocating a spiritual affiliation with Christ as the only + true religion. He was imprisoned often and long for "brawling" + in churches and refusing to take oaths then required by law. + Fox wrote in prison many books of religious exhortation, his + style being tantalisingly involved. The one work that lives is + the "Journal," a quaintly egotistic record of unquestioning + faith and unconquerable endurance in pursuit of a spiritual + ideal through a rude age. + + +_I.--His Youth and Divine Calling_ + + +I was born in the month called July, 1624, at Drayton-in-the-Clay, in +Leicestershire. My father's name was Christopher Fox; he was by +profession a weaver, an honest man, and there was a seed of God in him. +In my very young years I had a gravity and staidness of mind and spirit +not usual in children. When I came to eleven years of age I knew +pureness and righteousness. The Lord taught me to be faithful in all +things, inwardly to God and outwardly to man, and to keep to "Yea" and +"Nay" in all things. + +Afterwards, as I grew up, I was put to a man, a shoemaker by trade, who +dealt in wool, and was a grazier, and sold cattle, and a great deal went +through my hands. I never wronged man or woman in all that time; for the +Lord's power was with me, and over me to preserve me. While I was in +that service, it was common saying among people that knew me, "If George +says 'Verily,' there is no altering him." + +At the command of God, on the ninth day of the seventh month, 1643, I +left my relations, and broke off all familiarity or fellowship with old +or young. I went to Barnet in the month called June, in 1644. Now, +during the time that I was at Barnet a strong temptation to despair came +upon me. Then I thought, because I had forsaken my relations, I had done +amiss against them. I was about twenty years of age when these exercises +came upon me, and I continued in that condition some years in great +trouble. I went to many a priest to look for comfort, but found no +comfort from them. Then the priest of Drayton, the town of my birth, +whose name was Nathaniel Stephens, came often to me, and I went often to +him. At that time he would applaud and speak highly of me to others, and +what I said in discourse to him on the week days he would preach of on +the first days, for which I did not like him. This priest afterwards +became my great persecutor. + +After this I went to another ancient priest at Mancetter, in +Warwickshire, and reasoned with him about the ground of despair and +temptations; but he was ignorant of my condition, he bade me take +tobacco and sing psalms. Tobacco was a thing I did not love, and psalms +I was not in a state to sing. Then I heard of a priest living about +Tamworth, but I found him only like an empty, hollow cask. Later I went +to another, one Mackam, a priest of high account. He would needs give me +some physic, and I was to have been let blood. I thought them miserable +comforters, and saw they were all as nothing to me, for they could not +reach my condition. And this struck me, "that to be bred at Oxford or +Cambridge was not enough to make a man fit to be a minister of Christ." +So neither these, nor any of the dissenting people, could I join with, +but was a stranger to all, relying wholly upon the Lord Jesus Christ. + +It was now opened in me "that God, who made the world, did not dwell in +temples made with hands," but in people's hearts, and His people were +His temple. During all this time I was never joined in profession of +religion with any, being afraid both of professor and profane. For which +reason I kept myself much a stranger, seeking heavenly wisdom and +getting knowledge from the Lord. + +When all my hopes in them were gone, then--oh, then--I heard a voice +which said, "There is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy +condition." And when I heard it my heart did leap for joy, and the Lord +stayed my desires upon himself. + + +_II.--Preaching and Persecution_ + + +Then came people from far and near to see me, and I was made to speak +and open things to them. And there was one Brown, who had great +prophecies and sights upon his death-bed of me. He spoke only of what I +should be made instrumental by the Lord to bring forth. And I had great +openings and prophecies, and spoke of the things of God. + +And many who heard me spread the fame thereof, and the Lord's power got +ground, and many were turned from the darkness to the light within the +compass of these three years--1646, 1647, and 1648. Moreover, when the +Lord sent me forth, he forbade me to "put off my hat" to any, high or +low. And I was required to "thee" and "thou" all, men and women, without +any respect to rich or poor, great or small. But, oh, the rage that then +was in the priests, magistrates, professors, and people of all sorts; +but especially in priests and professors! Oh, the scorn, the heat and +fury that arose! Oh, the blows, punchings, beatings, and imprisonments +that we underwent! + +About this time I was sorely exercised in speaking and writing to judges +and justices to do justly; in warning such as kept public-houses for +entertainment that they should not let people have more drink than would +do them good. In fairs also and in markets I was made to declare against +their deceitful merchandise, cheating, and cozening; warning all to deal +justly, to speak the truth, to let their yea be yea, and their nay be +nay. Likewise I was made to warn masters and mistresses, fathers and +mothers in private families, to take care that their children and +servants might be trained up in the fear of the Lord; and that they +themselves should be therein examples and patterns of sobriety and +virtue. + +But the earthly spirit of the priests wounded my life, and when I heard +the bell toll to call people together to the steeple-house it struck at +my life; for it was just like a market-bell to gather people together, +that the priest might set forth his wares to sale. + + +_III.--In Perils Oft_ + + +Now as I went towards Nottingham on a first-day, when I came on the top +of a hill in sight of the town, I espied the great steeple-house, and +the Lord said unto me, "Thou must go cry against yonder great idol, and +against the worshippers therein." When I came there all the people +looked like fallow ground, the priest (like a great lump of earth) stood +in his pulpit above. Now the Lord's power was so mighty upon me that I +could not hold, but was made to cry out. + +As I spoke, the officers came and took me away, and put me into a nasty, +stinking prison, the smell whereof got so into my nose and throat that +it very much annoyed me. But that day the Lord's power sounded so in +their ears that they were amazed at the voice. At night they took me +before the mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs of the town. They examined me +at large, and I told them how the Lord had moved me to come. After some +discourse between them and me, they sent me back to prison again; but +some time after the head sheriff sent for me to his house. I lodged at +the sheriff's, and great meetings we had in his house. The Lord's power +was with this friendly sheriff, and wrought a mighty change in him; and +accordingly he went into the market, and into several streets, and +preached repentance to the people. Hereupon the magistrates grew very +angry, and sent for me from the sheriff's house, and committed me to the +common prison. Now, after I was released from Nottingham gaol, where I +had been kept prisoner for some time, I travelled as before in the work +of the Lord. + +And while I was at Mansfield-Woodhouse, I was moved to go to the +steeple-house there, and declare the truth to the priest and people; but +the people fell upon me in great rage, struck me down, and almost +stifled and smothered me; and I was cruelly beaten and bruised by them +with their hands, Bibles, and sticks. Then they haled me out, though I +was hardly able to stand, and put me into the stocks, where I sat some +hours. After some time they had me before the magistrate, who, seeing +how evilly I had been used, after much threatening, set me at liberty. +But the rude people stoned me out of the town for preaching the word. + + +_IV.--A Willing Sufferer_ + + +While I was in the house of correction at Derby as a blasphemer, my +relations came to see me, and being troubled for my imprisonment they +went to the justices that cast me into prison, and desired to have me +home with them, offering to be bound in one hundred pounds, and others +of Derby with them in fifty pounds each, that I should come no more +thither to declare against the priests. So I was had up before the +justices, and because I would not consent that they or any should be +bound for me--for I was innocent from any ill-behaviour, and had spoken +the word of life and truth unto them--Justice Bennett rose up in a rage; +and as I was kneeling down to pray to the Lord to forgive him, he ran +upon me, and struck me with both his hands. Whereupon I was had again to +the prison, and there kept until six months were expired. + +Now the time of my commitment being nearly ended, the keeper of the +house of correction was commanded to bring me before the commissioners +and soldiers in the market-place, and there they offered me preferment, +as they called it, asking me if I would take up arms for the +commonwealth against Charles Stuart; but I told them I lived in the +virtue of that life and power that took away the occasion of all wars, +and was come into the covenant of peace which was before wars and +strifes were. + +I then passed through the country, clearing myself amongst the people; +and some received me lovingly, and some slighted me. And some when I +desired lodging and meat, and would pay for it, would not lodge me +except I would go to the constable, which was the custom, they said, of +all lodgers at inns, if strangers. I told them I should not go, for that +custom was for suspicious persons, but I was an innocent man. + +And I passed in the Lord's power into Yorkshire, and came to Tickhill, +where I was moved to go to the steeple-house. But when I began to speak +they fell upon me, and the clerk took up his Bible and struck me in the +face with it, so that it gushed out with blood, and I bled exceedingly +in the steeple-house. Then the people got me out and beat me +exceedingly, stoning me as they drew me along, so that I was besmeared +all over with blood and dirt. Yet when I got upon my legs again I +declared to them the word of life. Some moderate justices, hearing of +it, came to hear and examine the business, and he that shed my blood was +afraid of having his hand cut off for striking me in the church (as they +called it), but I forgave him, and would not appear against him. + +Then I went to Swarthmore to Judge Fell's, and from there to Ulverstone, +where the people heard me gladly, until Justice Sawrey--the first +stirrer-up of cruel persecution in the North--incensed them against me, +to hale, beat, and bruise me, and the rude multitude, some with staves +and others with holly-bushes, beat me on the head, arms, and shoulders +till they deprived me of sense. And my body and arms were yellow, black, +and blue with the blows I received that day, and I was not able to bear +the shaking of a horse without much pain. And Judge Fell, coming home, +asked me to give him a relation of my persecution, but I made light of +it--as he told his wife--as a man that had not been concerned, for, +indeed, the Lord's power healed me again. + + +_V.--Encounters with Cromwell_ + + +When I came to Leicester I was carried up a prisoner by Captain Drury, +one of the Protector's life-guards, who brought me to London and lodged +me at the Mermaid, over against the Mews at Charing Cross. And I was +moved of the Lord to write a paper to Oliver Cromwell, wherein I +declared against all violence, and that I was sent of God to bring the +people from the causes of war and fighting to a peaceable gospel. After +some time Captain Drury brought me before the Protector himself at +Whitehall, and I spoke much to him of truth and religion, wherein he +carried himself very moderately; and as I spoke he several times said it +was very good and it was truth, and he wished me no more ill than he did +his own soul. + +When I went into Cornwall I was seized and brought to Launceston to be +tried, and being settled in prison upon such a commitment that we were +not likely to be soon released, we were put down into Doomsdale, a +nasty, stinking place where they put murderers after they were +condemned; and we were fain to stand all night, for we could not sit +down, the place was so filthy. We sent a copy of our sufferings to the +Protector, who sent down General Desborough to offer us liberty if we +would go home and preach no more; but we could not promise him. At last +he freely set us at liberty, and in Cornwall, Devonshire, Dorsetshire, +and Somersetshire, the truth began to spread mightily. + +After a little while Edward Pyot and I were moved to speak to Oliver +Cromwell again concerning the sufferings of Friends, and we laid them +before him, and directed him to the light of Christ. Afterwards we +passed on through the counties to Wales, and by Manchester to Scotland; +but the Scots, being a dark, carnal people, gave little heed, and hardly +took notice of what was said. + +And when I had returned to London I was moved to write again to Oliver +Cromwell. There was a rumour about this time of making Cromwell king, +whereupon I warned him against it, and he seemed to take well what I +said to him, and thanked me. Taking boat to Kingston, and thence to +Hampton Court, to speak with him about the sufferings of Friends, I met +him riding into Hampton Court Park before I came to him. As he rode at +the head of his life-guards, I felt a waft of death go forth against +him, and he looked like a dead man. After I had warned him, as I was +moved, he bid me come to his house. But when I came he was sick, so I +passed away, and never saw him more. + +After, I was imprisoned in Lancaster, but when I had been in gaol twenty +weeks was released on King Charles being satisfied of my innocency. Then +I was tried at Leicester and found guilty, but was set at liberty +suddenly. And at Lancaster I was tried because when they tendered me the +oaths of allegiance and supremacy I would not take any oath at all, and +there I was a prisoner in the castle for Christ's sake, but was never +called to hear sentence given, but was removed by an order from the king +and council. And afterwards I lay a year in Scarborough gaol, but was +discharged by order of the king as a man of peaceable life. + +And on the 2nd of the second month of the year 1674 I was brought to +trial at Worcester, and during my imprisonment there I wrote several +books for the press, and this imprisonment so much weakened me that I +was long before I recovered my natural strength again, and in later +years my body was never able to bear the closeness of cities long. + + * * * * * + + + + +BENJAMIN FRANKLIN + + +Autobiography + + + Benjamin Franklin, a great and typical American, and one of + the most influential founders of the young republic, was born + at Boston, Mass., on January 17, 1706. The story of his first + fifty years is related in the vigorous and inspiring + "Autobiography," published in 1817. But the book does not + carry the story further than the year 1758, which was just the + time when he took a foremost place in world-politics, as + official representative of the New World in the Old World. He + came in that year to England, where he remained five years as + agent of the colony of Pennsylvania. Again in London, as agent + for several colonies, from 1764 to 1775, Franklin fought for + their right not to be taxed by the home country without having + a voice in matters which concerned themselves; and from 1776 + to 1785 he represented his country in Paris, obtaining the + assistance of the French government in the War of + Independence. On his return to America in 1785 Franklin was + chosen President of the State of Pennsylvania. He died on + April 17, 1790. Franklin's correspondence, during these + important years in Europe, as well as the letters of the last + five years of his life, have been ably edited by John Bigelow, + and form, in some sort, a continuation of the "Autobiography," + published in 1874. The "Autobiography" is published in a + number of inexpensive forms. + + +_I.--Early Education_ + + +Our family had lived in the village of Ecton, Northamptonshire, for 300 +years, the eldest son being always bred to the smith's business. I was +the youngest son of the youngest son for five generations back. My +father married young, and carried his wife and three children to New +England, about 1682, in order that they might there enjoy their +Non-conformist religion with freedom. He married a second time, and had +in all seventeen children. + +I had but little schooling, being taken home at ten years to help my +father's business of tallow-chandler. I disliked the trade, and desired +to go to sea; living near the water in our home at Boston, I learned to +swim well, and to manage boats. From a child I was fond of reading, and +laid out all my little money on books, such as Bunyan's works, which I +sold to get Burton's "Historical Collections"; and in my father's little +library there were Plutarch's "Lives," De Foe's "Essays on Projects," +and Mather's "Essays to do Good." This bookish inclination determined my +father to bind me apprentice to my brother James, a printer in Boston, +and in a little time I became very proficient. I had access to more +books, and often sat up most of the night reading. I had also a fancy to +poetry, and made some little pieces; my brother printed them, and sent +me about the town to sell them. + +I now took in hand the improvement of my writing by various exercises in +prose and verse, being extremely ambitious to become a good English +writer. My time for these exercises was at night and on Sundays. At +about 16 years of age, meeting with a book on the subject, I took to a +vegetable diet, and thus not only saved an additional fund to buy books, +but also gained greater clearness of head. I now studied arithmetic, +navigation, geometry, and read Locke "On the Human Understanding," the +"Art of Thinking," by Messrs. du Port Royal, and Xenophon's "Memorable +Things of Socrates." From this last I learned to drop my abrupt +contradiction and positive argumentation, and to put on the humble +inquirer and doubter. + +My brother had begun to print a newspaper, "The New England Courant," +the second that appeared in America. Some of his friends thought it not +likely to succeed, one newspaper being enough for America; yet at this +time there are not less than five-and-twenty. To this paper I began to +contribute anonymously, disguising my hand, and putting my MSS. at night +under the door of the printing-house. These were highly approved, until +I claimed their authorship. + +But I soon took upon me to assert my freedom, and determined to go to +New York. A friend of mine agreed with the captain of a sloop for my +passage; I was taken on board privately, and in three days found myself +in New York, near 300 miles from home, a boy of but seventeen, and with +very little money in my pocket. The printer there could not give me +employment, but told me of a vacancy in Philadelphia, 100 miles further. +Thither, therefore, I proceeded, partly by land, and partly by sea, and +landed with one Dutch dollar in my pocket. + +There were two printers in the town, both of them poorly qualified. +Bradford was very illiterate, and Keimer, though something of a scholar, +was a mere compositor, knowing nothing of press-work. Keimer gave me +employment. He had been one of the French prophets, and could act their +enthusiastic agitations. He did not profess any particular religion, but +something of all on occasion, and had a good deal of the knave in his +composition. I began to have acquaintance among the young people that +were lovers of reading; and gaining money by industry and frugality, I +lived very agreeably, forgetting Boston as much as I could. + +At length my brother-in-law, master of a sloop, heard of me, and wrote +exhorting me to return, to which I answered in a letter which came under +the eyes of Sir William Keith, governor of the province. He was +surprised when he was told my age, and said that I ought to be +encouraged; if I would set up in Philadelphia he would procure me the +public business. + +Sir William promised to set me up himself. I did not know his reputation +for promises which he never meant to keep, and at his suggestion I +sailed for England to choose the types. Understanding that his letters +recommendatory to a number of friends and his letter of credit to +furnish me with the necessary money, which he had failed to give me +before the ship sailed, were with the rest of his despatches, I asked +the captain for them, and when we came into the Channel he let me +examine the bag. I found none upon which my name was put as under my +care. I began to doubt his sincerity, and a fellow passenger, on my +opening the affair to him, let me into the governor's character, and +told me that no one had the smallest dependence on him. + +I immediately got work at Palmer's, a famous printing-house in +Bartholomew Close, London. I was employed in composing for the second +edition of Wollaston's "Religion of Nature," and some of his reasonings +not appearing to me well-founded, I wrote a little metaphysical piece +entitled "A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain." +This brought me the acquaintance of Dr. Mandeville, author of the "Fable +of the Bees," a most facetious, entertaining companion. I presently left +Palmer's to work at Watts, near Lincoln's Inn Fields, and here I +continued for the rest of my eighteen months in London. But I had grown +tired of that city, and when a Mr. Denham, who was returning to +Philadelphia to open a store, offered to take me as his clerk, I gladly +accepted. + +We landed in Philadelphia on October 11, 1726, where I found sundry +alterations. Keith was no longer governor; and Miss Read, to whom I had +paid some courtship, had been persuaded in my absence to marry one +Rogers, a potter. With him, however, she was never happy, and soon +parted from him; he was a worthless fellow. Mr. Denham took a store, but +died next February, and I returned to Keimer's printing-house. + + +_II.--Making His Way_ + + +I had now just passed my twenty-first year; and it may be well to let +you know the then state of my mind with regard to my principles and +morals. My parents had brought me through my childhood piously in the +dissenting way, but now I had become a thorough Deist. My arguments had +perverted some others, but as each of these persons had afterwards +wronged me greatly without the least compunction, and as my own conduct +towards others had given me great trouble, I began to suspect that this +doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. I now, +therefore, grew convinced that truth, sincerity, and integrity between +man and man were of the utmost importance to the felicity of life; and I +formed written resolutions to practice them ever while I lived. + +I now set up in partnership with Meredith, one of Keimer's workmen, the +money being found by Meredith's father. In the autumn of the preceding +year, I had formed most of my ingenious acquaintance into a club of +mutual improvement, which we called the Junto; it met on Friday evenings +for essays and debates. Every one of its members exerted himself in +recommending business to our new firm. + +Soon Keimer started a newspaper, "The Universal Instructor in all Arts +and Sciences and Pennsylvania Gazette," but after carrying it on for +some months with only ninety subscribers he sold it to me for a trifle, +and it proved in a few years extremely profitable. With the help of two +good friends I bought out Meredith in 1729, and continued the business +alone. + +I had turned my thoughts to marriage, but soon found that, the business +of a printer being thought a poor one, I was not to expect money with a +wife. Friendly relations had continued between me and Mrs. Read's +family; I pitied poor Miss Read's unfortunate situation, and our mutual +affection revived. Though there was a report of her husband's death, and +another report that he had a preceding wife in England, neither of these +were certain, and he had left many debts, which his successor might be +called on to pay. + +But we ventured over these difficulties, and I took her to wife +September 1, 1730. None of the inconveniences happened that we had +apprehended; she proved a good and faithful helpmate, assisted me much +by attending the shop; we throve together, and have ever mutually +endeavoured to make each other happy. + +I now set on foot my first project of a public nature, that for a +subscription library. By the help of our club, the Junto, I procured +fifty subscribers of forty shillings each to begin with, and ten +shillings a year for fifty years. We afterwards obtained a charter, and +this was the mother of all the North American subscription libraries now +so numerous, which have made the common tradesmen and farmers as +intelligent as most gentlemen from other countries. + + +_III.--The Scheme of Virtues_ + + +It was about 1733 that I conceived the bold and arduous project of +arriving at moral perfection. I wished to live without committing any +fault at any time; I would conquer all that natural inclination, custom, +or company might lead me into. As I knew, or thought I knew, what was +right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one and +avoid the other. But I soon found that I had undertaken a task of great +difficulty, and I therefore contrived the following method. I included +under thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurred to me as +necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept, which +expressed the extent which I gave to its meaning. + +The names of virtues were: Temperance, silence, order, resolution, +frugality, industry, sincerity, justice, moderation, cleanliness, +tranquillity, chastity, and humility. My list contained at first only +twelve virtues, but a friend having informed me that I was generally +thought proud, I determined endeavouring to cure myself of this vice or +folly among the rest; and, though I cannot boast of much success in +acquiring the reality of this virtue, I had a good deal of success with +regard to the appearance of it. My intention being to acquire the +habitude of all these virtues, I determined to give a week's strict +attention to each of them successively, thus going through a complete +course in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. I had a little +book, in which I allotted a page for each of the virtues; the page was +ruled into days of the week, and I marked in it, by a little black spot, +every fault I found by examination to have been committed respecting +that virtue upon that day. + +I was surprised to find myself much fuller of faults than I had +imagined, but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish. After a +while I went through one course only in a year, and afterwards only one +in several years, till at length I omitted them entirely; but I always +carried my little book with me. My scheme of order gave me most trouble. +It was as follows. + + 5--8 a.m. What good shall I do this day? Rise, wash, and + address Powerful Goodness. Contrive day's business, and take + the resolution of the day; prosecute the present study, and + breakfast. + + 8 a.m.--12 noon. Work. + + 12--1 p.m.--Read, or overlook my accounts, and dine. + + 2--6 p.m. Work. + + 6--10 p.m. Put things in their places. Supper. Music or + diversion, or conversation. Examination of the day. What good + have I done this day? + + 10 p.m.--5 a.m. Sleep. + +In truth, I found myself incorrigible with regard to order, yet I was, +by the endeavour, a better and a happier man than I should have been if +I had not attempted it. It may be well that my posterity should be +informed that to this little artifice, with the blessing of God, their +ancestor owed the constant felicity of his life. + +I purposed publishing my scheme, writing a little comment on each +virtue, and I should have called my book "The Art of Virtue," +distinguishing it from the mere exhortation to be good. But my intention +was never fulfilled, for it was connected in my mind with a great and +extensive project, which I have never had time to attend to. I had set +forth on paper the substance of an intended creed, containing, as I +thought, the essentials of every known religion, and I conceived the +project of raising a united party for virtue, by forming the virtuous +and good men of all nations into a regular body, to be governed by +suitable good and wise rules. I thought that the sect should be begun +and spread at first among young and single men only, that each person to +be initiated should declare his assent to my creed, and should have +exercised himself with the thirteen weeks' practice of the virtues, that +the existence of the society should be kept a secret until it was become +considerable, that the members should engage to assist one another's +interests, business, and advancement in life, and that we should be +called "The Society of the Free and Easy," as being free from the +dominion of vice and of debt. I am still of opinion that it was a +practicable scheme. + +In 1732 I first published my Almanack, commonly called "Poor Richard's +Almanack," and continued it for about twenty-five years. It had a great +circulation, and I considered it a proper vehicle for conveying +instruction among the common people. Thus, I assembled the proverbs +containing the wisdom of many ages and nations into a discourse prefixed +to the Almanack of 1757, as the harangue of a wise old man to the people +attending an auction. I considered my newspaper also as a means of +instruction, and published in it extracts from moral writers and little +pieces of my own, in the form sometimes of a Socratic dialogue, tending +to prove the advantages of virtue. + +I had begun in 1733 to study languages. I made myself master of French +so as to be able to read books with ease, and then Italian, and later +Spanish. Having an acquaintance with these, I found, on looking over a +Latin Testament, that I understood much of that language, which +encouraged me to study it with success. + +Our secret club, the Junto, had turned out to be so useful that I now +set every member of it to form each of them a subordinate club, with the +same rules, but without informing the new clubs of their connection with +the Junto. The advantages proposed were, the improvement of so many +young citizens; our better acquaintance with the general sentiments of +the inhabitants on any occasion, as the Junto member was to report to +the Junto what passed in his separate club; the promotion of our +particular interests in business by more extensive recommendation; and +the increase of our influence in public affairs. Five or six clubs were +completed, and answered our views of influencing public opinion on +particular occasions. + + +_IV.--Public Life_ + + +My first promotion was my being chosen, in 1736, clerk of the General +Assembly. In the following year I received the commission of postmaster +at Philadelphia, and found it of great advantage. I now began to turn my +thoughts a little to public affairs, beginning, however, with small +matters, and preparing the way for my reforms through the Junto and +subordinate clubs. Thus I reformed the city watch, and established a +company for the extinguishing of fires. In 1739 the Rev. Mr. Whitefield +arrived among us and preached to enormous audiences throughout the +colonies. I knew him intimately, being employed in printing his sermons +and journals; he used sometimes to pray for my conversion, but never had +the satisfaction of believing that his prayers were heard. Our +friendship lasted till his death. + +My business was now continually augmenting, and my circumstances daily +growing easier. Spain having been several years at war against Great +Britain, and being at length joined by France, our situation became one +of great danger; our colony was defenceless, and our Assembly was +composed principally of Quakers. I therefore formed an association of +citizens, numbering ten thousand, into a militia; these all furnished +themselves with arms and met every week for drill, while the women +provided silk colours painted with devices and mottoes which I supplied. +With the proceeds of a lottery we built a battery below the town, and +borrowed eighteen cannon of the governor of New York. + +Peace being concluded, and the association business therefore at an end, +I turned my thoughts to the establishment of an academy. I published a +pamphlet; set on foot a subscription, not as an act of mine, but of some +"public-spirited gentleman," and the schools were opened in 1749. They +were soon moved to our largest hall; the trustees were incorporated by a +charter from the governor, and thus was established the University of +Pennsylvania. The building of a hospital for the sick, and the paving, +lighting, and sweeping of the streets of the city, were among the +reforms in which I had a hand at this time. In 1753 I was appointed, +jointly with another, postmaster-general of America, and the following +year I drew up a plan for the union of all the colonies under one +government for defence and other important general purposes. Its fate +was singular; the assemblies did not adopt it, as they thought there was +too much prerogative in it, and in England it was judged to be too +democratic. The Board of Trade therefore did not approve of it, but +substituted another scheme for the same end. I believe that my plan was +really the true medium, and that it would have been happy for both sides +of the water if it had been adopted. + +When war was in a manner commenced with France, the British Government, +not choosing to trust the union of the colonies with their defence, lest +they should feel their own strength, sent over General Braddock in 1755 +with two regiments of regular English troops for that purpose. He landed +at Alexandria and marched to Frederictown in Maryland, where he halted +for carriages. I was sent to him by the Assembly, stayed with him for +several days, and had full opportunity of removing all his prejudices +against the colonies by informing him of what the essemblies had done +and would still do to facilitate his operations. + +This general was a brave man, and might have made a figure as a good +officer in some European war. But he had too much self-confidence, too +high an opinion of regular troops, and too mean a one of both Americans +and Indians. Our Indian interpreter joined him with 100 guides and +scouts, who might have been of great use to him; but he slighted and +neglected them and they left him. He said to one of the Indians, "These +savages may indeed be a formidable enemy to your raw American militia, +but upon the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is +impossible that they should make any impression." In the first +engagement his force was routed in panic, and two-thirds of them were +killed, by no more than 400 Indians and French together. This gave us +the first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess of British +regulars had not been well founded. Besides, from the day of their +landing, they had plundered, insulted, and abused our inhabitants. We +wanted no such defenders. + +After this the governor prevailed with me to take charge of our +north-west frontier, which was infested by the enemy, and I undertook +this military business, although I did not conceive myself well suited +for it. + +My account of my electrical experiments was read before the Royal +Society of London, and afterwards printed in a pamphlet. The Count de +Buffon, a philosopher of great reputation, had the book translated into +French, and then it appeared in the Italian, German, and Latin +languages. What gave it the more sudden celebrity was the success of its +proposed experiment for drawing lightning from the clouds. I was elected +a Fellow of the Royal Society, and they presented me with the gold medal +of Sir Godfrey Copley, for 1753. + +The Assembly had long had much trouble with the "proprietary," or great +hereditary landowners. Finally, finding that they persisted obstinately +in manacling their deputies with instructions inconsistent, not only +with the privileges of the people, but with the service of the crown, +the Assembly resolved to petition the king against them, and appointed +me agent in England to present and support the petition. I sailed from +New York with my son in the end of June; we dropped anchor in Falmouth +harbour, and reached London on July 27, 1757. + + * * * * * + + + + +MRS. GASKELL + + +The Life of Charlotte Bronte + + + Elizabeth Cleghorn Stevenson, afterwards Mrs. Gaskell, was + born at Chelsea on September 29, 1810. At the age of + twenty-two she married William Gaskell, a minister of the + Unitarian Church in Manchester. She became famous in 1848 on + the publication of "Mary Barton," a novel treating of factory + life. Her "Life of Charlotte Brontë," published in 1857, + caused much controversy, which became bitter, and occasioned + the fixed resolve on the part of its author that her own + memoirs should never be published. This gloomily-haunting, + vivid human "Life of Charlotte Brontë" was written at the + request of the novelist's father, who placed all the materials + in his possession at the disposal of the biographer. Mrs. + Gaskell took great pains to make her work complete, and, + though published only two years after Charlotte Brontë's + death, it still holds the field unchallenged. Mrs. Gaskell + died on November 12, 1865. + + +_I.--The Children Who Never Played_ + + +Into the midst of the lawless yet not unkindly population of Haworth, in +the West Riding, the Rev. Patrick Brontë brought his wife and six little +children in February, 1820, seven heavily-laden carts lumbering slowly +up the long stone street bearing the "new parson's" household goods. + +A native of County Down, Mr. Brontë had entered St. John's College, +Cambridge, in 1802, obtained his B.A. degree, and after serving as a +curate in Essex, had been appointed curate at Hartshead, in Yorkshire. +There he was soon captivated by Maria Branwell, a little gentle +creature, the third daughter of Mr. Thomas Branwell, merchant, of +Penzance. In 1816 he received the living of Thornton, in Bradford +Parish, and there, on April 21, Charlotte Brontë was born. She was the +third daughter, Maria and Elizabeth being her elder sisters, and fast on +her heels followed Patrick Branwell, Emily Jane and Anne. + +"They kept themselves to themselves very close," in the account given by +those who remember the family coming to Haworth. From the first, the +walks of the children were directed rather towards the heathery moors +sloping upwards behind the parsonage than towards the long descending +village street. Hand in hand they used to make their way to the glorious +moors, which in after days they loved so passionately. + +They were grave and silent beyond their years. "You would never have +known there was a child in the house, they were such still, noiseless, +good little creatures," said one of my informants. "Maria would often +shut herself up" (Maria of seven!) "in the children's study with a +newspaper or a periodical, and be able to tell anyone everything when +she came out, debates in parliament, and I know not what all." + +Mr. Brontë wished to make the children hardy, and indifferent to the +pleasures of eating and dress. His strong passionate nature was in +general compressed down with resolute stoicism. Mrs. Brontë, whose sweet +spirit thought invariably on the bright side, would say: "Ought I not to +be thankful that he never gave me an angry word?" + +In September, 1821, Mrs. Brontë died, and the lives of those quiet +children must have become quieter and lonelier still. Their father did +not require companionship, and the daughters grew out of childhood into +girlhood bereft in a singular manner of such society as would have been +natural to their age, sex and station. The children did not want +society. To small infantine gaieties they were unaccustomed. They were +all in all to each other. They had no children's books, but their eager +minds "browsed undisturbed among the wholesome pasturage of English +literature," as Charles Lamb expressed it. + +Their father says of their childhood that "since they could read and +write they used to invent and act little plays of their own, in which +the Duke of Wellington, Charlotte's hero, was sure to come off +conqueror. When the argument got warm I had sometimes to come in as +arbitrator." Long before Maria Brontë died, at the age of eleven, her +father used to say he could converse with her on any topic with as much +freedom and pleasure as with any grown-up person. + +In 1824, the four elder girls were admitted as pupils to Cowan Bridge +School for the daughters of clergymen, where they were half starved amid +the most insanitary surroundings. Helen Burns in "Jane Eyre" is as exact +a transcript of Maria Brontë as Charlotte's wonderful power of +representing character could give. In 1825 both Maria and Elizabeth died +of consumption, and Charlotte was suddenly called from school into the +responsibilities of the eldest sister in a motherless family. + +At the end of the year, Charlotte and Emily returned home, where +Branwell was being taught by his father, and their aunt, Miss Branwell, +who acted as housekeeper, taught them what she could. An immense amount +of manuscript dating from this period is in existence--tales, dramas, +poems, romances, written principally by Charlotte, in a hand it is +almost impossible to decipher without the aid of a magnifying glass. +They make in the whole twenty-two volumes, each volume containing from +sixty to a hundred pages, and all written in about fifteen months. The +quality strikes me as of singular merit for a girl of thirteen or +fourteen. + + +_II.--Girlhood of Charlotte Bronte_ + + +In 1831, Charlotte Brontë was a quiet, thoughtful girl, nearly fifteen +years of age, very small in figure--stunted was the word she applied to +herself--fragile, with soft, thick, brown hair, and peculiar eyes. They +were large and well shaped, their colour a reddish brown, and if the +iris was closely examined, it appeared to be composed of a great variety +of tints. The usual expression was of quiet, listening intelligence, but +now and then, on some just occasion for vivid interest or wholesome +indignation, a light would shine out as if some spiritual lamp had been +kindled which glowed behind those expressive orbs. I never saw the like +in any other human creature. The rest of her features were plain, large, +and ill-set; but you were hardly aware of the fact, for the eyes and +power of the countenance overbalanced every physical defect. The crooked +mouth and the large nose were forgotten, and the whole face arrested the +attention, and presently attracted all those whom she would herself have +cared to attract. Her hands and feet were the smallest I ever saw; when +one of her hands was placed in mine it was like the soft touch of a bird +in the middle of my palm. + +In January, 1831, Charlotte was sent to school again, this time as a +pupil of Miss Wooler, who lived at Roe Head, between Leeds and +Huddersfield, the surroundings being those described in "Shirley." The +kind motherly nature of Miss Wooler, and the small number of the girls, +made the establishment more like a private family than a school. Here +Charlotte formed friendships with Miss Wooler and girls attending the +school--particularly Ellen Nussey and Mary Taylor--which lasted through +life. + +Writing of Charlotte at this time "Mary" says the other girls "thought +her very ignorant, for she had never learned grammar at all, and very +little geography, but she would confound us by knowing things that were +out of our range altogether. She said she had never played, and could +not play. She used to draw much better and more quickly than we had seen +before, and knew much about celebrated pictures and painters. She made +poetry and drawing very interesting to me, and then I got the habit I +have yet of referring mentally to her opinion all matters of that kind, +resolving to describe such and such things to her, until I start at the +recollection that I never shall." + +This tribute to her influence was written eleven years after Mary had +seen Charlotte, nearly all those years having been passed by Mary at the +Antipodes. + +"Her idea of self improvement," continues Mary, "was to cultivate her +tastes. She always said there was enough of useful knowledge forced on +us by necessity, and that the thing most needed was to soften and refine +our minds, and she picked up every scrap of information concerning +painting, sculpture and music, as if it were gold." + +In spite of her unsociable habits, she was a favourite with her +schoolfellows, and an invaluable story-teller, frightening them almost +out of their lives as they lay in bed. + + +_III.--Her Life as a Governess_ + + +After a year and a half's residence at Roe Head, beloved and respected +by all, laughed at occasionally by a few, but always to her face, +Charlotte returned home to educate her sisters, to practise household +work under the supervision of her somewhat exacting aunt, and to write +long letters to her girl friends, Mary and Ellen--Mary, the Rose Yorke, +and Ellen, the Caroline Helstone of "Shirley." Three years later she +returned to Roe Head as a teacher, in order that her brother Branwell +might be placed at the Royal Academy and her sister Emily at Roe Head. +Emily Brontë, however, only remained three months at school, her place +being taken there by her younger sister, Anne. + +"My sister Emily loved the moors," wrote Charlotte, explaining the +change. "Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the blackest of the +heath for her; out of a sullen hollow in the livid hillside her mind +could make an Eden. She found in the bleak solitude many a dear delight; +and not the least and best loved was liberty. Without it she perished. +Her nature proved here too strong for her fortitude. In this struggle +her health was quickly broken. I felt in my heart that she would die if +she did not go home, and with this conviction obtained her recall." + +Charlotte's own life at Miss Wooler's was a very happy one until her +health failed, and she became dispirited, and a prey to religious +despondency. During the summer holidays of 1836, all the members of the +family were occupied with thoughts of literature. Charlotte wrote to +Southey, and Branwell to Wordsworth, of their ambitions, and Southey +replied that "literature cannot be the business of a woman's life, and +ought not to be. The more she is engaged in her proper duties the less +leisure she will have for it, even as an accomplishment and recreation." +To this Charlotte meekly replied: "I trust I shall never more feel +ambitious to see my name in print." + +On the school being removed to Dewsbury Moor, Charlotte, whose health +and spirits had been affected by the change, and Anne returned home. "I +stayed at Dewsbury Moor," she said in a letter to Ellen Nussey, "as long +as I was able; but at length I neither could nor dare stay any longer. +My life and spirits had utterly failed me; so home I went, and the +change at once roused and soothed me." + +At this time Charlotte received an offer of marriage from a clergyman +having a resemblance to St. John Rivers in "Jane Eyre"--a brother of her +friend Ellen; but she refused him as she explains: + +"I had a kindly leaning towards him as an amiable and well-disposed man. +Yet I had not and could not have that intense attachment which would +make me willing to die for him; and if ever I marry it must be in that +light of adoration that I will regard my husband." + +Teaching now seemed to the three sisters to be the only way of earning +an independent livelihood, though they were not naturally fond of +children. The hieroglyphics of childhood were an unknown language to +them, for they had never been much with those younger than themselves; +and they were not as yet qualified to take charge of advanced pupils. +They knew but little French, and were not proficient in music. Still, +Charlotte and Anne both took posts as governesses, and eventually formed +a plan of starting a school on their own account, their housekeeping +Aunt Branwell providing the necessary capital. To fit them for this work +Charlotte and Emily entered, in February, 1842, the Héger Pensionnat, +Brussels, and meantime Anne came home to Haworth from her governess +life. The brother, Branwell, had now given up his idea of art, and was a +clerk on the Leeds and Manchester Railway. + +In Brussels, Emily was homesick as ever, the suffering and conflict +being heightened, in the words of Charlotte, "by the strong recoil of +her upright, heretic, and English spirit from the gentle Jesuitry of the +foreign and Romish system. She was never happy till she carried her +hard-won knowledge back to the remote English village, the old parsonage +house, and desolate Yorkshire hills." "We are completely isolated in the +midst of numbers. Yet I think I am never unhappy; my present life is so +delightful, so congenial to my own nature, compared with that of a +governess," was Charlotte's further description. + +The sisters were so successful with their study of French that Madame +Héger proposed that both should stay another half year, Charlotte to +teach English, and Emily music; but from Brussels the girls were brought +hastily home by the illness and death of their aunt, who left to each of +them independently a share of her savings--enough to enable them to make +whatever alterations were needed to turn the parsonage into a school. +Emily now stayed at home, and Charlotte (January, 1843) returned to +Brussels to teach English to Belgian pupils, under a constant sense of +solitude and depression, while she learned German. A year later she +returned to Haworth, on receiving news of the distressing conduct of her +brother Branwell and the rapid failure of her father's sight. On leaving +Brussels, she took with her a diploma certifying that she was perfectly +capable of teaching the French language, and her pupils showed for her, +at parting, an affection which she observed with grateful surprise. + + +_IV.--The Sisters' Book of Poems_ + + +The attempt to secure pupils at Haworth failed. At this time the conduct +of the now dissipated brother Branwell--conduct bordering on +insanity--caused the family the most terrible anxiety; their father was +nearly blind with cataract, and Charlotte herself lived under the dread +of blindness. It was now that she paid a visit to her friends the +Nusseys, at Hathersage, in Derbyshire, the scene of the later chapters +of "Jane Eyre." On her return she found her brother dismissed from his +employment, a slave to opium, and to drink whenever he could get it, and +for some time before he died he had attacks of delirium tremens of the +most frightful character. + +In the course of this sad autumn of 1845 a new interest came into the +lives of the sisters through the publication, at their own expense, of +"Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell," as explained in the +biographical notice of her sisters, which Charlotte prefaced to the +edition of "Wuthering Heights" and "Agnes Grey," that was published in +1850. + +"One day in the autumn of 1845 I accidentally lighted on a manuscript +volume of verses in my sister Emily's handwriting. Of course I was not +surprised, knowing that she could and did write verses. I looked it +over, and then something more than surprise seized me--a deep conviction +that these were not common effusions, not at all like the poetry a woman +generally writes. I thought them condensed and terse, vigorous and +genuine. To my ear they had also a peculiar music, wild, melancholy, and +elevating. I took hours to reconcile my sister to the discovery I had +made, and days to persuade her that such poems merited publication. +Meantime, my younger sister quietly produced some of her own +compositions, intimating that since Emily's had given me pleasure I +might like to look at hers. I thought that these verses too had a sweet +sincere pathos of their own. We had very early cherished the dream of +one day being authors. We agreed to arrange a small selection of our +poems, and if possible get them printed." + +The "Poems" obtained no sale until the authors became otherwise known. + +During the summer of 1846 the three sisters made attempts to find a +publisher for a volume that was to consist of three prose tales, +"Wuthering Heights," by Emily, "Agnes Grey" by Anne, and "The Professor" +by Charlotte. Eventually the two former were accepted for a three-volume +issue, though eighteen months passed and much happened before the book +was actually circulated. Meantime, "The Professor" was plodding its way +round London through many rejections. Under these circumstances, her +brother's brain mazed and his gifts and life lost, her father's sight +hanging on a thread, her sisters in delicate health and dependent on her +care, did the brave genius begin, with steady courage, the writing of +"Jane Eyre." While refusing to publish "The Professor," Messrs. Smith, +Elder & Co. expressed their willingness to consider favourably a new +work in three volumes which "Currer Bell" informed them he was writing; +and by October 16, 1847, the tale--"Jane Eyre"--was accepted, printed, +and published. + + +_V.--The Coming of Success_ + + +The gentleman connected with the firm who first read the manuscript was +so powerfully struck by the character of the tale that he reported his +impressions in very strong terms to Mr. Smith, who appears to have been +much amused by the admiration excited. "You seem to have been so +enchanted that I do not know how to believe you," he laughingly said. +But when a second reader, in the person of a clear-headed Scotsman, not +given to enthusiasm, had taken the manuscript home in the evening, and +became so deeply interested in it as to sit up half the night to finish +it, Mr. Smith's curiosity was sufficiently excited to prompt him to read +it himself; and great as were the praises which had been bestowed upon +it he found that they did not exceed the truth. The power and +fascination of the tale itself made its merits known to the public +without the kindly fingerposts of professional criticism, and early in +December the rush for copies began. + +When the demand for the work had assured success, her sisters urged +Charlotte to tell their father of its publication. She accordingly went +into his study one afternoon, carrying with her a copy of the book and +two or three reviews, taking care to include a notice adverse to it, and +the following conversation took place. + +"Papa, I've been writing a book." + +"Have you, my dear?" + +"Yes; and I want you to read it." + +"I am afraid it will try my eyes too much." + +"But it is not in manuscript; it is printed." + +"My dear, you've never thought of the expense it will be! It will be +almost sure to be a loss; for how can you get a book sold? No one knows +you or your name." + +"But, papa, I don't think it will be a loss. No more will you if you +will just let me read you a review or two, and tell you more about it." + +So she sat down and read some of the reviews to her father, and then, +giving him the copy of "Jane Eyre" that she intended for him, she left +him to read it. When he came in to tea he said: "Girls, do you know +Charlotte has been writing a book, and it is much better than likely?" + +Soon the whole reading world of England was in a ferment to discover the +unknown author. Even the publishers were ignorant whether "Currer Bell" +was a real or an assumed name till a flood of public opinion had lifted +the book from obscurity and had laid it high on the everlasting hills of +fame. + +The authorship was kept a close secret in the Brontë family, and not +even the friend who was all but a sister--Ellen Nussey--knew more about +it than the rest of the world. It was indeed through an attempt at sharp +practice by another firm that Messrs. Smith & Elder became aware of the +identity of the author with Miss Brontë. In the June of 1848, "The +Tenant of Wildfell Hall," a second novel by Anne Brontë--"Acton +Bell"--was submitted for publication to the firm which had previously +published "Wuthering Heights" and "Agnes Grey," and this firm announced +the new book in America as by the author of "Jane Eyre," although +Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co. had entered into an agreement with an +American house for the publication of "Currer Bell's" next tale. On +hearing of this, the sisters, Charlotte and Anne, set off instantly for +London to prove personally that they were two and not one; and women, +not men. + +On reaching Mr. Smith's office, Charlotte put his own letter into his +hand as an introduction. + +"Where did you get this?" said he, as if he could not believe that the +two young ladies dressed in black, of slight figures and diminutive +stature, looking pleased yet agitated, could be the embodied Currer and +Acton Bell for whom curiosity had been hunting so eagerly in vain. + +An explanation ensued, and the publisher at once began to form plans for +the amusement of the visitors during their three days' stay in London. + +In September, 1848, her brother Branwell died. After the Sunday +succeeding Branwell's death, Emily Brontë never went out of doors, and +in less than three months she, too, was dead. To the last she adhered +tenaciously to her habits of independence. She would suffer no one to +assist her. On the day of her death she arose, dressed herself, and +tried to take up her sewing. + +Anne Brontë, too, drooped and sickened from this time in a similar +consumption, and on May 28, 1849, died peacefully at Scarborough, +pathetically appealing to Charlotte with her ebbing breath: "Take +courage, Charlotte; take courage." + + +_VI.--Charlotte Brontë's Closing Years_ + + +"Shirley" had been begun soon after the publication of "Jane Eyre." +Shirley herself is Charlotte's representation of Emily as she would have +been if placed in health and prosperity. It was published five months +after Anne's death. The reviews, Charlotte admitted, were "superb." + +Visits to London made Miss Brontë acquainted with many of the literary +celebrities of the day, including Thackeray and Miss Martineau. In +Yorkshire her success caused great excitement. She tells herself how +"Martha came in yesterday puffing and blowing, and much excited. +'Please, ma'am, you've been and written two books--the grandest books +that ever was seen. They are going to have a meeting at the Mechanics' +Institute to settle about ordering them.' When they got the volumes at +the Mechanics' Institute, all the members wanted them. They cast lots, +and whoever got a volume was allowed to keep it two days, and was to be +fined a shilling per diem for longer detention." + +In the spring of 1850, Charlotte Brontë paid another visit to London, +and later to Scotland, where she found Edinburgh "compared to London +like a vivid page of history compared to a dull treatise on political +economy; as a lyric, brief, bright, clean, and vital as a flash of +lightning, compared to a great rumbling, rambling, heavy epic." + +She was in London again in 1851, and was dismayed by the attempts to +lionise her. "Villette," written in a constant fight against ill-health, +was published in 1853, and was received with one burst of acclamation. +This brought to a close the publication of Charlotte's life-time. + +The personal interest of the two last years of Charlotte Brontë's life +centres on her relations with her father's curate, the Rev. A.B. +Nicholls. In 1853, he asked her hand in marriage. He was the fourth man +who had ventured on the same proposal. Her father disapproved, and Mr. +Nicholls resigned his curacy. Next year, however, her father relented. +Mr. Nicholls again took up the curacy, and the marriage was celebrated +on June 29, 1854. Henceforward the doors of home are closed upon her +married life. + +On March 31, 1855, she died before she had attained to motherhood, her +last recorded words to her husband being: "We have been so happy." Her +life appeals to that large and solemn public who know how to admire +generously extraordinary genius, and how to reverence all noble virtue. + + * * * * * + + + + +EDWARD GIBBON + + +Memoirs + + + Gibbon's autobiography was published in 1796, two years after + his death, by his friend, Lord Sheffield, under the title + "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon, Esq., with Memoirs of + His Life and Writings, Composed by Himself." "After completing + his history," says Mr. Birrell, "Gibbon had but one thing left + him to do in order to discharge his duty to the universe. He + had written a magnificent history of the Roman Empire; it + remained to write the history of the historian. It is a most + studied performance, and may be boldly pronounced perfect. It + is our best, and best known, autobiography." That the writing + was studied is shown by the fact that six different sketches + were left in Gibbon's handwriting, and from all these the + published memoirs were selected and put together. The memoir + was briefly completed by Lord Sheffield. Bagehot described the + book as "the most imposing of domestic narratives." Truly, it + was impossible for Gibbon to doff his dignity, but through the + cadenced formality of his style the reader can detect a happy + candour, careful sincerity, complacent temper, and a loyalty + to friendship that recommend the man as truly as the writer. + (See also HISTORY.) + + +_I.--Birth and Education_ + + +I was born at Putney, in the county of Surrey, April 27, in the year +1737, the first child of the marriage of Edward Gibbon, Esq., and Jane +Porten. + +From my birth I have enjoyed the right of primogeniture; but I was +succeeded by five brothers and one sister, all of whom were snatched +away in their infancy. So feeble was my constitution, so precarious my +life, that in the baptism of each of my brothers my father's prudence +successively repeated my Christian name of Edward, that, in the case of +the departure of the eldest son, this patronymic appellation might be +still perpetuated in the family. + +To preserve and to rear so frail a being the most tender assiduity was +scarcely sufficient, and my mother's attention was somewhat diverted by +an exclusive passion for her husband and by the dissipation of the +world; but the maternal office was supplied by my aunt, Mrs. Catherine +Porten, at whose name I feel a tear of gratitude trickling down my +cheek. + +After this instruction at home, I was delivered at the age of seven into +the hands of Mr. John Kirkby, who exercised for about eighteen months +the office of my domestic tutor, enlarged my knowledge of arithmetic, +and left me a clear impression of the English and Latin rudiments. In my +ninth year, in a lucid interval of comparative health, I was sent to a +school of about seventy boys at Kingston-upon-Thames, and there, by the +common methods of discipline, at the expense of many tears and some +blood, purchased a knowledge of the Latin syntax. After a nominal +residence at Kingston of nearly two years, I was finally recalled by my +mother's death. My poor father was inconsolable, and he renounced the +tumult of London, and buried himself in the rustic solitude of Buriton; +but as far back as I can remember, the house of my maternal grandfather, +near Putney Bridge, appears in the light of my proper and native home, +and that excellent woman, Mrs. Catherine Porten, was the true mother of +my mind, as well as of my health. + +At this time my father was too easily content with such teachers as the +different places of my residence could supply, and it might now be +apprehended that I should continue for life an illiterate cripple; but +as I approached my sixteenth year, nature displayed in my favour her +mysterious energies: my constitution was fortified and fixed, and my +disorders most wonderfully vanished. + +Without preparation or delay, my father carried me to Oxford, and I was +matriculated in the university as a gentleman commoner of Magdalen +College before I had accomplished the fifteenth year of my age. As often +as I was tolerably exempt from danger and pain, reading, free desultory +reading, had been the employment and comfort of my solitary hours, and I +was allowed, without control or advice, to gratify the wanderings of an +unripe taste. My indiscriminate appetite subsided by degrees into the +historic line; and I arrived at Oxford with a stock of erudition that +might have puzzled a doctor, and a degree of ignorance of which a +schoolboy would have been ashamed. + +The happiness of boyish years I have never known, and that time I have +never regretted. To the university of Oxford I acknowledge no +obligation. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen College, and they proved +the fourteen months the most idle and profitless of my whole life. The +sum of my improvement there is confined to three or four Latin plays. It +might at least be expected that an ecclesiastical school should +inculcate the orthodox principles of religion. But our venerable mother +had contrived to unite the opposite extremes of bigotry and +indifference. The blind activity of idleness urged me to advance without +armour into the dangerous mazes of controversy, and at the age of +sixteen I bewildered myself in the errors of the church of Rome. +Translations of two famous works of Bossuet achieved my conversion, and +surely I fell by a noble hand. + +No sooner had I settled my new religion than I resolved to profess +myself a Catholic, and on June 8, 1753, I solemnly abjured the errors of +heresy. An elaborate controversial epistle, addressed to my father, +announced and justified the step which I had taken. My father was +neither a bigot nor a philosopher, but his affection deplored the loss +of an only son, and his good sense was astonished at my departure from +the religion of my country. In the first sally of passion, he divulged a +secret which prudence might have suppressed, and the gates of Magdalen +College were for ever shut against my return. + + +_II.--A Happy Exile_ + + +It was necessary for my father to form a new plan of education, and +effect the cure of my spiritual malady. After much debate it was +determined to fix me for some years at Lausanne, in Switzerland, under +the roof and tuition of M. Pavilliard, a Calvinist minister. Suddenly +cast on a foreign land, I found myself deprived of the use of speech and +hearing, incapable of asking or answering a question in the common +intercourse of life. Such was my first introduction to Lausanne, a place +where I spent nearly five years with pleasure and profit. + +This seclusion from English society was attended with the most solid +benefits. Before I was recalled home, French, in which I spontaneously +thought, was more familiar than English to my ear, my tongue, and my +pen. My awkward timidity was polished and emboldened; M. Pavilliard +gently led me from a blind and undistinguishing love of reading into the +path of instruction. He was not unmindful that his first task was to +reclaim me from the errors of popery, and I am willing to allow him a +handsome share of the honour of my conversion, though it was principally +effected by my private reflections. + +It was now that I regretted the early years which had been wasted in +sickness or idleness or mere idle reading, and I determined to supply +this defect. My various reading I now digested, according to the precept +and model of Mr. Locke, into a large commonplace book--a practice, +however, which I do not strenuously recommend. I much question whether +the benefits of this laborious method are adequate to the waste of time, +and I must agree with Dr. Johnson that what is twice read is commonly +better remembered than what is transcribed. + +I hesitate from the apprehension of ridicule when I approach the +delicate subject of my early love. I need not blush at recollecting the +object of my choice, and, though my love was disappointed of success, I +am rather proud that I was once capable of feeling such a pure and +exalted sentiment. The personal attractions of Mademoiselle Curchod were +embellished by the virtues and talents of the mind. Her father lived +content with a small salary and laborious duty in the obscure lot of +minister of Crassy. In the solitude of a sequestered village he bestowed +a liberal, and even learned, education on his only daughter. In her +short visit to Lausanne, the wit, the beauty, the erudition of +Mademoiselle Curchod were the theme of universal applause. The report of +such a prodigy awakened my curiosity; I saw and loved. At Crassy and +Lausanne I indulged my dream of felicity, but on my return to England I +discovered that my father would not hear of this alliance. After a +painful struggle I yielded. I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son; my +wound was insensibly healed by time, absence, and the habits of a new +life. + + +_III.--To England and Authorship_ + + +In the spring of the year 1758 my father signified his permission that I +should immediately return home. The whole term of my absence from +England was four years ten months and fifteen days. The only person in +England whom I was impatient to see was my Aunt Porten, the affectionate +guardian of my tender years. It was not without some awe and +apprehension that I approached my father; but he received me as a man +and a friend. All constraint was banished at our first interview, and +afterwards we continued on the same terms of easy and equal politeness. + +Of the next two years, I passed about nine months in London, and the +rest in the country. My progress in the English world was in general +left to my own efforts, and those efforts were languid and slow. But my +love of knowledge was inflamed and gratified by the command of books, +and from the slender beginning in my father's study I have gradually +formed a numerous and select library, the foundation of my works, and +the best comfort of my life both at home and abroad. In this place I may +allow myself to observe that I have never bought a book from a motive of +ostentation, and that every volume before it was deposited on the shelf +was either read or sufficiently examined. + +The design of my first work, the "Essay on the Study of Literature," was +suggested by a refinement of vanity--the desire of justifying and +praising the object of a favourite pursuit. I was ambitious of proving +that all the faculties of the mind may be exercised and displayed by the +study of ancient literature. + +My father fondly believed that the proof of some literary talents might +introduce me to public notice. The work was printed and published under +the title "Essai sur l'Etude de la Littérature." It is not surprising +that a work of which the style and sentiments were so totally foreign +should have been more successful abroad than at home. I was delighted by +the warm commendations and flattering predictions of the journals of +France and Holland. In England it was received with cold indifference, +little read, and speedily forgotten. A small impression was slowly +dispersed. + + +_IV.--Soldiering and Travel_ + + +An active scene now follows which bears no affinity to any other period +of my studious and social life. On June 12, 1759, my father and I +received our commissions as major and captain in the Hampshire regiment +of militia, and during two and a half years were condemned to a +wandering life of military servitude. My principal obligation to the +militia was the making me an Englishman and a soldier. In this peaceful +service I imbibed the rudiments of the language and science of tactics, +which opened a new field of study and observation. The discipline and +evolutions of a modern battalion gave me a clearer notion of the phalanx +and the legion; and the captain of the Hampshire Grenadiers--the reader +may smile--has not been useless to the historian of the Roman Empire. + +I was detained above four years by my rash engagement in the militia. I +eagerly grasped the first moments of freedom; and such was my diligence +that on my father consenting to a term of foreign travel, I reached +Paris only thirty-six hours after the disbanding of the militia. Between +my stay of three months and a half in Paris and a visit to Italy, I +interposed some months of tranquil simplicity at Lausanne. My old +friends of both sexes hailed my voluntary return--the most genuine proof +of my attachment. The public libraries of Lausanne and Geneva liberally +supplied me with books, from which I armed myself for my Italian +journey. On this tour I was agreeably employed for more than a year. +Turin, Milan, Genoa, Parma, Modena, and Florence were visited, and here +I first acknowledged, at the feet of the Venus of Medici, that the +chisel may dispute the preeminence with the pencil, a truth in the fine +arts which cannot on this side of the Alps be felt or understood. + +After leaving Florence, I passed through Pisa, Leghorn, and Sienna to +Rome. My temper is not very susceptible to enthusiasm; and the +enthusiasm which I do not feel, I have ever scorned to affect. But, at +the distance of twenty-five years, I can neither forget nor express the +strong emotions which agitated my mind as I first approached and entered +the Eternal City. After a sleepless night, I trod, with a lofty step, +the ruins of the Forum; each memorable spot, where Romulus stood, or +Tully spoke, or Cæsar fell, was at once present to my eye; and several +days of intoxication were lost, or enjoyed, before I could descend to a +cool and minute observation. + +It was in Rome, on October 15, 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of +the Capitol, while the bare-footed friars were singing vespers in the +Temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the +city first started to my mind. But my original plan was circumscribed to +the decay of the city rather than the empire; and though my reading and +reflections began to point towards that object, some years elapsed, and +several avocations intervened, before I was seriously engaged in the +execution of that laborious work. + + +_V.--History and Politics_ + + +The five years and a half between my return from my travels and my +father's death are the portion of my life which I passed with the least +enjoyment, and which I remember with the least satisfaction. In the +fifteen years between my "Essay on the Study of Literature" and the +first volume of the "Decline and Fall," a criticism of Warburton on +Virgil and some articles in "Mémoires Littéraires de la Grande Bretagne" +were my sole publications. In November, 1770, my father sank into the +grave in the sixty-fourth year of his age. As soon as I had paid the +last solemn duties to my father, and obtained from time and reason a +tolerable composure of mind, I began to form the plan of an independent +life most adapted to my circumstances and inclination. I had now +attained the first of earthly blessings--independence. I was absolute +master of my hours and actions; and no sooner was I settled in my house +and library than I undertook the composition of the first volume of my +history. Many experiments were made before I could hit the middle tone +between a dull chronicle and a rhetorical declamation; three times did I +compose the first chapter, and twice the second and third, before I was +tolerably satisfied with their effect. In the remainder of the way I +advanced with a more equal and easy pace. + +By the friendship of Mr. (now Lord) Eliot, who had married my first +cousin, I was returned member of parliament for the borough of Liskeard. +I took my seat at the beginning of the memorable contest between Great +Britain and America, and supported, with many a sincere and silent vote, +the rights, though not, perhaps, the interest, of the Mother Country. +After a fleeting, illusive hope, prudence condemned me to acquiesce in +the humble station of a mute. But I listened to the attack and defence +of eloquence and reason; I had a near prospect of the characters, views, +and passions of the first men of the age. The eight sessions that I sat +in parliament were a school of civil prudence, the first and most +essential virtue of an historian. + +The first volume of my history, which had been somewhat delayed by the +novelty and tumult of a first session, was now ready for the press. +During the awful interval of awaited publication, I was neither elated +by the ambition of fame nor depressed by the apprehension of contempt. +My diligence and accuracy were attested by my own conscience. I likewise +flattered myself that an age of light and liberty would receive without +scandal an inquiry into the human causes of progress of Christianity. + +I am at a loss how to describe the success of the work without betraying +the vanity of the writer. The first impression was exhausted in a few +days; a second and third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand. +My book was on every table; nor was the general voice disturbed by the +barking of any profane critic. Let me frankly own that I was startled at +the first discharge of ecclesiastical ordnance; but I soon discovered +that this empty noise was mischievous only in intention, and every +feeling of indignation has long since subsided. + +Nearly two years elapsed between the publication of my first and the +commencement of my second volume. The second and third volumes of the +"Decline and Fall" insensibly rose in sale and reputation to a level +with the first volume. So flexible is the title of my history that the +final era might be fixed at my own choice, and I long hesitated whether +I should be content with the three volumes, the "Fall of the Western +Empire." The tumult of London and attendance at parliament were now +grown irksome, and when I had finished the fourth volume, excepting the +last chapter, I sought a retreat on the banks of the Leman Lake. + + +_VI.--A Quiet Consummation_ + + +My transmigration from London to Lausanne could not be effected without +interrupting the course of my historical labours, and a full twelvemonth +was lost before I could resume the thread of regular and daily industry. +In the fifth and sixth volumes the revolutions of the empire and the +world are most rapid, various, and instructive. It was not till after +many designs and many trials that I preferred the method of grouping my +picture by nations; and the seeming neglect of chronological order is +surely compensated by the superior merits of interest and perspicacity. +I was now straining for the goal, and in the last winter many evenings +were borrowed from the social pleasures of Lausanne. + +I have presumed to mark the moment of conception; I shall now +commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. It was on the night of +June 27, 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the +last lines of the last page in a summer-house in my garden. After laying +down my pen, I took several turns in a covered walk of acacias, which +commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air +was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was +reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not +dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and +perhaps the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and +a sober melancholy was spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken +an everlasting leave of an agreeable companion, and that whatsoever +might be the future fate of my history, the life of the historian must +be short and precarious. + +The day of publication of my three last volumes coincided with the +fifty-first anniversary of my own birthday. The conclusion of my work +was generally read and variously judged. Upon the whole, the history of +"The Decline and Fall" seems to have struck root both at home and +abroad. + +When I contemplate the common lot of mortality, I must acknowledge that +I have drawn a high prize in the lottery of life. I am endowed with a +cheerful temper. The love of study, a passion which derives fresh vigour +from enjoyment, supplies each day, each hour, with a perpetual source of +independent and rational pleasure; and I am not sensible of any decay of +the mental faculties. I am disgusted with the affectation of men of +letters who complain that they have renounced a substance for a shadow. +My own experience, at least, has taught me a very different lesson. +Twenty happy years have been animated by the labour of my history; and +its success has given me a name, a rank, a character in the world to +which I should not otherwise have been entitled. + +The present is a fleeting moment, the past is no more; and our prospect +of futurity is dark and doubtful I shall soon enter into the period +which was selected by the judgment and experience of the sage Fontenelle +as the most agreeable of his long life. I am far more inclined to +embrace than to dispute this comfortable doctrine. I will not suppose +any premature decay of the mind or body; but I must reluctantly observe +that two causes, the abbreviation of time and the failure of hope, will +always tinge with a browner shade the evening of life. + + * * * * * + + + + +GOETHE + + +Letters to Zelter + + + The correspondence of Goethe with his friends, especially his + voluminous letters to his friend Zelter, will always be + resorted to by readers who wish for intimate knowledge of the + innermost processes of the great poet's mind. Zelter was + himself an extraordinary man. By trade he was a stonemason, + but he became a skilled musical amateur, and a most versatile + and entertaining critic. To him fell the remarkable + distinction of becoming the tutor of that musical genius, + Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, while he also acquired the glory + of being "the restorer of Bach to the Germans." Like + Eckermann, the other beloved friend of Goethe, he possessed + the power of eliciting the great poet-philosopher's dicta on + all imaginable topics. Zelter wrote to Goethe on anything and + everything, trivial and otherwise, but his letters never + failed to educe strains of the most illuminating comment. The + "Letters to Zelter" were published in Berlin in 1833, and the + following epitome is prepared from the German text. + + +_I.--Art Greater than the Beauty of Art_ + + +Lauchstadt, _September_ 1, 1805. As we are convinced that he who studies +the intellectual world, and perceives the beauty of the true intellect, +can also realise the Father of them, who is supreme above all sense, let +us therefore seek as best we may to achieve insight into the beauty of +the mind and of the world, and to express it for ourselves. + +Suppose, then, two blocks of stone, side by side, one rough and +unshaped, the other artistically shaped into a statue. To you the stone +worked into a beautiful figure appears lovely not because it is stone, +but because of the form which art has given it. But the material had not +such a form, for this was in the mind of the artist before it reached +the stone. Of course, art is greater than that which it produces. Art is +greater than the beauty of art. The motive power must be greater than +the result. For as the form gains extension by advancing into the +material, yet by that very process it becomes weaker than that which +remains whole. For that which endures removal from itself steps aside +from itself--strength from strength, warmth from warmth, force from +force, so also beauty from beauty. + +Should anyone disparage the arts because they imitate nature, let him +note that nature also imitates much besides; and, further, that the arts +do not precisely imitate what we see but go back to that rational +element of which nature consists, and according to which she acts. + +_Carlsbad, June 22_, 1808. It is an extraordinary fact that man in +himself, so far as he avails himself of his sound mind, is the greatest +and most precise physical apparatus that can be. And it is in fact the +greatest evil of the newer physics that experiments are, as it were, +separated from man himself, so that nature is recognised only in what is +ascertained by artificial instruments. It is exactly so with +calculation. Much is true which cannot be computed, just as much can +never be experimentally demonstrated. + +Man, however, stands so high that that which otherwise admits of no +representation is represented in him. What, then, is a string and all +its mechanical division compared with the ear of the musician? Indeed, +it may be said what are the elementary phenomena of nature compared with +man, who must first master and modify them all in order to assimilate +them to himself? + + +_II.--Music and Musicians_ + + +_Weimar, November_ 16, 1816. I send you a few words with reference to +your proposal to write a cantata for the Reformation Jubilee. It might +best be contrived after the method of Handel's "Messiah," into which you +have so deeply penetrated. + +As the main idea of Lutheranism rests on a very excellent foundation, it +affords a fine opportunity both for poetical and also for musical +treatment. Now, this basis rests on the decided contrast between the law +and the Gospel, and secondly on the accommodation of these two extremes. +And now, if in order to attain a higher standpoint we substitute for +those two words the terms "necessity" and "freedom," with their +synonyms, their remoteness and proximity, you see clearly that +everything interesting to mankind is contained in this circle. + +And thus Luther perceives in the Old and New Testaments the symbol of +the great and ever-recurring world-order. On the one hand, the law, +striving after love; on the other, love, striving back towards the law, +and fulfilling it, though not of its own power and strength, but through +faith; and that, too, by exclusive faith in the all-powerful Messiah +proclaimed to all. + +Thus, briefly, are we convinced that Lutheranism can never be united +with the Papacy, but that it does not contradict pure reason, so soon as +reason decides to regard the Bible as the mirror of the world; which +certainly should not be difficult. To express these ideas in a poem +adapted to music, I should begin with the thunder on Mount Sinai, with +the _Thou shalt_! and conclude with the resurrection of Christ, and the +_Thou wilt_! + +This may be the place to add a few words about Catholicism. Soon after +its origin and promulgation, the Christian religion, through rational +and irrational heresies, lost its original purity. But as it was called +on to check barbarous nations, harsh methods were needed for the +service, not doctrine. The one Mediator between God and man was not +enough, as we all know. Thus arose a species of pagan Judaism, sustained +even to this day. This had to be revolutionised entirely in the minds of +men, therefore Lutheranism depends solely on the Bible. Luther's +behaviour is no secret, and now that we are going to commemorate him, we +cannot do so in the right sense unless we acknowledge his merit, and +represent what he accomplished for his own age and for posterity. This +celebration should be so arranged that every fair-minded Catholic should +be able to participate in it. The Weimar friends of art have already +prepared their designs for the monument. We make no secret of the +matter, and at all events hope to contribute our share. + +_Jena, February_ 16, 1818. You know Jena too little for it to mean +anything to you when I say that on the right bank of the Saale, near the +Camsdorf bridge, above the ice-laden water rushing through the arches, I +have occupied a tower which has attracted me and my friends for years. +Here I pass the happiest hours of the day, looking out on the river, +bridge, gravel walks, meadows, gardens, and hills, famous in war, rising +beyond. At sunset I return to town. + +In observing atmospheric changes I endeavour to interweave cloud-forms +and sky-tints with words and images. But as all this, except for the +noise of wind and water, runs off without a sound, I really need some +inner harmony to keep my ear in tune; and this is only possible by my +confidence in you and in what you do and value. Therefore, I send you +only a few fervent prayers as branches from my paradise. If you can but +distil them in your hot element, then the beverage can be swallowed +comfortably, and the heathen will be made whole. Apocalypse, last +chapter, and the second verse. + +_Vienna, July_ 27. Pyrotechnical displays seem to me the only pleasure +in which the Austrians are willing to dispense with their music, which +here persecutes us in every direction. In Carlsbad a musician declared +to me that music as a profession was a sour crust. I replied that the +musicians were better off than the visitors. "How so?" asked he. Said I, +"Surely they can eat without music." + +The good man went away ashamed, and I felt sorry for him, though my +remark was quite in place, for it is really cruel in this manner to +torture patients and convalescents. I can, indeed, endure much, but +when, after coming from the opera, I sit down to supper, and am annoyed +instantly by the strains of a harp or a singer, jarring with what I have +been hearing, it is too much; and, wretch that I am, I am forgetting +that this scribble is also too much. So farewell. God bless you! + +_Vienna, July_ 29, 1819. Beethoven, whom I should have liked to see once +more in this life, lives somewhere in this country, but nobody can tell +me where. I wanted to write to him, but I am told he is almost +unapproachable, as he is almost without hearing. Perhaps it is better +that we should remain as we are, for it might make me cross to find him +cross. + +Much is thought of music here, and this in contrast to Italy, which +reckons itself the "only saving Church." But the people here are really +deeply cultured in music. It is true that they are pleased with +everything, but only the best music survives. They listen gladly to a +mediocre opera which is well cast; but a first-class work, even if not +given in the best style, remains permanently with them. + +Beethoven is extolled to the heavens, because he toils strenuously and +is still alive. But it is Haydn who presents to them their national +humour, like a pure fountain unmingled with any other stream, and it is +he who lives among them, because he belongs to them. They seem each day +to forget him, and each day he rises to life again among them. + + +_III.--"Poetry and Truth"_ + + +_Weimar, March_ 29, 1827. The completion of a work of art in itself is +the eternal, indispensable requisite. Aristotle, who had perfection +before him, must have thought of the effect. What a pity! Were I yet, in +these peaceful times, possessed of my youthful energies, I would +surrender myself entirely to the study of Greek, in spite of all the +difficulties of which I am conscious. Nature and Aristotle would be my +aim. We can form no idea of all that this man perceived, saw, noticed, +observed; but certainly in his explanations he was over-hasty. + +But is it not just the same with us to-day? Experience does not fail us, +but we lack serenity of mind, whereby alone experience becomes clear, +true, lasting, and useful. Look at the theory of light and colour as +interpreted before my very eyes by Professor Fries of Jena. It is a +series of superficial conclusions, such as expositors and theorists have +been guilty of for more than a century. I care to say nothing more in +public about this; but write it I will. Some truthful mind will one day +grasp it. + +_Weimar, April_ 18, 1827. Madame Catalini has scented out a few of our +extra groschen, and I begrudge her them. Too much is too much! She makes +no preparation for leaving us, for she has still to ring the changes on +a couple of old-new transmogrified airs, which she might just as well +grind out gratis. After all, what are two thousand of our thalers, when +we get "God save the King" into the bargain? + +It is truly a pity. What a voice! A golden dish with common mushrooms in +it! And we--one almost swears at oneself--to admire what is execrable! +It is incredible! An unreasoning beast would mourn at it. It is an +actually impossible state of things. An Italian turkey-hen comes to +Germany, where are academies and high schools, and old students and +young professors sit listening while she sings in English the airs of +the German Handel. What a disgrace if that is to be reckoned an honour! +In the heart of Germany, too! + +_Weimar, December_ 25, 1829. Lately by accident I fell in with "The +Vicar of Wakefield" and felt constrained to read it again from beginning +to end, impelled not a little by the lively consciousness of all that I +have owed to the author for the last seventy years. It would not be +possible to estimate the influence of Goldsmith and Sterne, exercised on +me just at the chief point of my development. This high, benevolent +irony, this gentleness to all opposition, this equanimity under every +change, and whatever else all the kindred virtues may be called--such +things were a most admirable training for me, and surely these are the +sentiments which, in the end, lead us back from all the mistaken paths +of life. By the way, it is strange that Yorick should incline rather to +that which has no form, while Goldsmith is all form, as I myself aspired +to be when the worthy Germans had convinced themselves that the +peculiarity of true humour is to have no form. + +_Weimar, February_ 15, 1830. As to the title, "Poetry and Truth," of my +autobiography, it is certainly somewhat paradoxical. I adopted it +because the public always cherishes doubt as to the truth of such +biographical attempts. My sincere effort was to express the genuine +truth which had prevailed throughout my life. Does not the most ordinary +chronicle necessarily embody something of the spirit of the time in +which it was written? Will not the fourteenth century hand down the +tradition of a comet more ominously than the nineteenth? Nay, in the +same town you will hear one version of an incident in the morning, and +another in the evening. + +All that belongs to the narrator and the narrative I included under the +word _Dichtung_ (poetry), so that I could for my own purpose avail +myself of the truth of which I was conscious. In every history, even if +it be diplomatically written, we always see the nation, the party of the +writer, peering through. How different is the accent in which the French +describe English history from that of the English themselves! + +Remember that with every breath we draw, an ethereal stream of Lethe +runs through our whole being, so that we have but a partial recollection +of our joys, and scarcely any of our sorrows. I have always known how to +value, and use, this gift of God. + + +_IV.--The Birth of "Iphigenia"_ + + +_Weimar, March_ 31, 1831. I have received a delightful letter from +Mendelssohn, dated Rome, March 5, which gives the most transparent +picture of that rare young man. About him we need cherish no further +care. The fine swimming-jacket of his genius will carry him safely +through the waves and surf of the dreaded barbarism. + +Now, you well remember that I have always passionately adopted the cause +of the minor third, and was angry that you theoretical cheap-jacks would +not allow it to be a _donum naturæ_. Certainly a wire or piece of +cat-gut is not so precious that nature should exclusively confide to it +her harmonies. Man is worth more, and nature has given him the minor +third, to enable him to express with cordial delight to himself that +which he cannot name, and that for which he longs. + +_Weimar, November_ 23, 1831. To begin with, let me tell you that I have +retreated into my cloister cell, where the sun, which is just now +rising, shines horizontally into my room, and does not leave me till he +sets, so that he is often uncomfortably importunate--so much so that for +a time I really have to shut him out. + +Further, I have to mention that a new edition of the "Iphigenia in +Aulis" of Euripides has once more turned my attention to that +incomparable Greek poet. Of course, his great and unique talent excited +my admiration as of old, but what has now mainly attracted me is the +element, as boundless as it is potent, in which he moves. + +Among the Greek localities and their mass of primeval, mythological +legends, he sails and swims, like a cannon-ball on a quick-silver sea, +and cannot sink, even if he wished. Everything is ready to his +hand--subject matter, contents, circumstances, relations. He has only to +set to work in order to bring forward his subjects and characters in the +simplest way, or to render the most complicated limitations even more +complex, and then finally and symmetrically, to our complete +satisfaction, either to unravel or cut the knot. + +I shall not quit him all this winter. We have translations enough which +will warrant our presumption in looking into the original. When the sun +shines into my warm room, and I am aided by the stores of knowledge +acquired in days long gone by, I shall, at any rate, fare better than I +should, at this moment, among the newly discovered ruins of Messene and +Megalopolis. + + * * * * * + + + + +Poetry and Truth from My Own Life + + + As "Werther" and "Wilhelm Meister" belong to the earlier and + to the middle periods of Goethe's literary activity, so the + following selections fall naturally into the last division of + his life. The death of Schiller in 1805 had given a blow to + his affections which even his warm relationship with other + friends could not replace, and hereafter he begins to + concentrate more and more upon himself to the completion of + those works which he had had in mind and preparation through + so many years, the greatest of which was to be the "Faust." In + "Poetry and Truth from My Own Life," which appeared in + 1811-14, he was actuated by the desire of supplying some kind + of a key to the collected edition of his works that had been + published in 1808; and whatever faults, or errors, it may + contain as a history, as a piece of writing it is finely + characteristic of the ease and simplicity of his later style. + + +_I.--Birth and Childhood_ + + +On August 28, 1749, at midday, I came into the world at +Frankfort-on-Maine. Our house was situated in a street called the +Stag-Ditch. Formerly the street had been a ditch, in which stags were +kept. On the second floor of the dwelling was a room called the +garden-room, because there they had endeavoured to supply the want of a +garden by means of a few plants placed before a window. As I grew older, +it was there that I made my somewhat sentimental retreat, for from +thence might be viewed a beautiful and fertile plain. + +When I became acquainted with my native city, I loved more than anything +else to promenade on the great bridge over the Maine. Its length, its +firmness, and fine aspect rendered it a notable structure. And one liked +to lose oneself in the old trading town, particularly on market days, +among the crowd collected about the church of St. Bartholomew. The +Römerberg was a most delightful place for walking. + +My father had prospered in his own career tolerably according to his +wishes; I was to follow the same course, only more easily and much +further. He had passed his youth in the Coburg Gymnasium, which stood as +one of the first among German educational institutions. He had there +laid a good foundation, and had subsequently taken his degree at +Giessen. He prized my natural endowments the more because he was himself +wanting in them, for he had acquired everything simply by means of +diligence and pertinacity. + +During my childhood the Frankforters passed a series of prosperous +years, but scarcely, on August 28, 1756, had I completed my seventh +year, when that world-renowned war broke out, which was also to exert +great influence upon the next seven years of my life. Frederick II. of +Prussia had fallen upon Saxony with 60,000 men. The world immediately +split into two parties, and our family was an image of the great whole. +My grandfather took the Austrian side, with some of his daughters and +sons-in-law; my father leaned towards Prussia, with the other and +smaller half of the family; and I also was a Prussian in my views, for +the personal character of the great king worked on our hearts. + +As the eldest grandson and godchild, I dined every Sunday with my +grandparents, and the event was always the most delightful experience of +the week. But now I relished no morsel that I tasted, because I was +compelled to listen to the most horrible slanders of my hero. That +parties existed had never entered into my conceptions. I trace here the +germ of that disregard and even disdain of the public which clung to me +for a whole period of my life, and only in later days was brought within +bounds by insight and cultivation. We continued to tease each other till +the occupation of Frankfort by the French, some years afterwards, +brought real inconvenience to our homes. + +The New Year's Day of 1759 approached, as desirable and pleasant to us +children as any preceding one, but full of import and foreboding to +older persons. To the passage of French troops the people had certainly +become accustomed; but they marched through the city in greater masses +on this day, and on January 2 the troops remained and bivouacked in the +streets till lodgings were provided for them by regular billeting. + +Siding as my father did with the Prussians, he was now to find himself +besieged in his own chambers by the French. This was, according to his +way of thinking, the greatest misfortune that could happen to him. Yet, +could he have taken the matter more easily, he might have saved himself +and us many sad hours, for he spoke French well, and it was the Count +Thorane, the king's lieutenant, who was quartered on us. That officer +behaved himself in a most exemplary manner, and if it had been possible +to cheer my father, this altered state of things would have caused +little inconvenience. + +During this French occupation I made great progress with the French +language. But the chief profit was that which I derived from the +theatre, for which my grandfather had given me a free ticket. I saw many +French comedies acted, and became friendly with some of the young people +connected with the stage. From the first day of the military occupation +there was no lack of diversion; plays and balls, parades and marches +constantly attracted our attention. + + +_II.--A Romantic Episode_ + + +After the French occupation we children could not fail to feel as if the +house were deserted. But new lodgers came in, Chancery-Director Moritz +and his family being received in this capacity. They were quiet and +gentle, and peace and stillness reigned. About this time a long-debated +project for giving us lessons in music was carried into effect. It was +settled that we should learn the harpsichord. And as we also received +lessons from a drawing-master, the way to two arts was thus early enough +opened to me. + +English was also added to my studies; and as on my own account I soon +felt that I ought to know Hebrew, my father allowed the rector of our +gymnasium to give me private lessons. I studied the Old Testament no +longer in Luther's translation, but in the literal version of Schmid. I +also paid great attention to sermons at church, and wrote out many that +I heard, doing this in a style that greatly gratified my father. + +At this time my first romantic experience occurred. I fell under the +enchantment of Gretchen, a beautiful girl who waited on me and some +comrades at a restaurant. The form of that girl followed me from that +moment on every path. At church, during the long Protestant service, I +gazed my fill at her. I wrote her love-letters, which she did not +resent. The first propensities to love in an uncorrupted youth take +altogether a spiritual direction. Nature seems to desire that one sex +may by the senses perceive goodness and beauty in the other. And thus to +me, by the sight of this girl, a new world of the beautiful and +excellent had arisen. But my friendship for this maiden being discovered +by my father, a family disturbance ensued which plunged me into illness. +I had been ordered to have nothing to do with anyone but the family. + +My sorrow was deepened as I slowly recovered by the addition of a +certain secret chagrin, for I plainly perceived that I was watched. It +was not long before my family gave me a special overseer. Fortunately, +it was a man whom I loved and valued. He had held the place of tutor in +the family of one of our friends, and his former pupil had gone to the +university. This friend, in skillful conversations, began to make me +acquainted with the secrets of philosophy. He had studied at Jena under +Daries, and had acutely seized the relations of that doctrine, which he +now sought to impart to me. + +After a time I took to wandering about the mountain range, and thus +visited Homburg, Kronenburg, Wiesbaden, Schwalbach, and reached the +Rhine. But the time was approaching when I was to go to the university. +My mind was quite as much excited about my life as about my learning. I +grew more and more conscious of an aversion from my native city. I never +again went into Gretchen's quarter of it, and even my old walls and +towers had become disagreeable. + + +_III.--University Life_ + + +I had always had my eye upon Göttingen, but my father obstinately +insisted on Leipzig. I arrived in that handsome city just at the time of +the fair, from which I derived particular pleasure, being specially +attracted by the inhabitants of eastern countries in their strange +dresses. I commenced to study under Böhme, professor of history and +public law, and Gellert, professor of literature. The reverence with +which Gellert was regarded by all young people was extraordinary. + +Much has been written about the condition of German literature at that +time. I need only state how it stood towards me. The literary epoch in +which I was born was developed out of the preceding one by opposition. +Foreign influences had previously predominated, but in this epoch the +German sense of freedom and joy began to stir itself. Göttsched, +Lessing, Haller, and, above all, Wieland, had produced works of genius. +The venerable Bengel had procured a decided reception for his labours on +the Revelation of St. John, from the fact that he was known as an +intelligent, upright, God-fearing, blameless man. Deep minds are +compelled to live in the past as well as the future. + +Plunging into literature on my own account, I at this period wrote the +oldest of my extant dramatic labours, "The Lover's Caprice," following +it with "The Accomplices." I had seen already many families ruined by +bankruptcies, divorces, vice, murders, burglaries, and poisonings, and, +young as I was, I had often, in such cases, lent a hand for help and +preservation. Accordingly, these pieces were written from an elevated +point of view, without my having been aware of it. But they could find +no favour on the German stage. + +My health had become somewhat impaired, though I did not think I should +soon become apprehensive about my life. I had brought with me from home +a certain touch of hypochondria, and a chronic pain in my breast, +induced by a fall from horseback, perceptibly increased, and made me +dejected. By an unfortunate diet I destroyed my powers of digestion, so +that I experienced great uneasiness, yet without being able to embrace a +resolution for a more rational mode of life. Besides the epoch of the +cold-water bath, the hard bed slightly covered, and other follies +unconditionally recommended, had begun, in consequence of some +misunderstood suggestions of Rousseau, under the idea of bringing us +nearer to nature and delivering us from the corruption of morals. + +One night I awoke with a violent hemorrhage, and for several days I +wavered between life and death. Recovery was slow, but nature helped me, +and I appeared to have become another man, for I had gained a greater +cheerfulness of mind than I had known for a long time, and I was +rejoiced to feel my inner self at liberty. But what particularly set me +up at this time was to see how many eminent men had undeservedly given +me their affection, among them being Dr. Hermann Groening, Horn, and, +above all, Langer, afterwards librarian at Wolfenbüttel, whose +conversation so far blinded me to the miserable state I was in that I +actually forgot it. + +The confidence of new friends develops itself by degrees. The religious +sentiments, the affairs of the heart which relate to the imperishable, +are the things which both establish the foundation and adorn the summit +of friendship. The Christian religion was wavering between its own +historically positive base and a pure deism, which, grounded on +morality, was in its turn to lay the foundation of ethics. Langer was of +the class who, though learned, yet give the Bible a peculiar preeminence +over other writings. He belongs to those who cannot conceive an +immediate connection with the great God of the universe; a mediation, +therefore, was necessary for him, an analogy to which he thought he +could find everywhere, in earthly and heavenly things. Grounded as I was +in the Bible, all that I wanted was merely the faith to explain as +divine that which I had hitherto esteemed in human fashion. To a +sufferer, delicate and weak, the Gospel was therefore welcome. + +I left Leipzig in September, 1768, for my native city and my home, where +my delicate appearance elicited loving sympathy. Again sickness ensued, +and my life was once more in peril, chiefly through a disturbed, I might +even say, for certain moments, destroyed digestion. But a skillful +physician helped me to convalescence. In the spring I felt so much +stronger that I longed to wander forth again from the chambers and spots +where I had suffered so much. I journeyed to beautiful Alsace and took +up lodgings on the summer-side of the fish-market in Strasburg, where I +designed to continue my studies in law. Most of my fellow-boarders were +medical students, and at table I heard nothing but medical +conversations. + +I was thus easily borne along the stream, and at the beginning of the +second half-year I attended lectures on chemistry and anatomy. Yet this +dissipation and dismemberment of my studies were not enough, for a +remarkable political event secured for us a succession of holidays. +Marie Antoinette was to pass through Strasburg on her way to Paris, and +the solemnities were abundantly prepared. In the grand saloon erected on +an island in the Rhine I saw a specimen of the tapestries worked after +Raffaele's cartoons, and this sight was for me a very decided influence, +for I became acquainted with the true and the perfect on a large scale. + + +_IV.--Fascinating Friendship_ + + +The most important event at this period, and one that was to have the +weightiest consequences for me, was my meeting with Herder. He +accompanied on his travels the Prince of Holstein-Eutin, who was in a +melancholy state of mind, and had come with him to Strasburg. Herder was +singular, both in his personal appearance and also in his demeanour. He +had somewhat of softness in his manner, which was very suitable and +becoming, without being exactly easy. I was of a very confiding +disposition, and with Herder especially I had no secrets; but from one +of his habits--a spirit of contradiction--I had much to endure. + +Herder could be charmingly prepossessing and brilliant, but he could +just as easily turn an ill-humoured side forward. He resolved to stay in +Strasburg because of a complaint in one of his eyes of the most +irritating nature, which required a tedious and uncertain operation, the +tear-bag being closed below. Therefore he separated from the prince and +removed into lodgings of his own for the purpose of the operation. He +confided to me that he intended to compete for a prize offered at Berlin +for the best treatise on the origin of language. His work, written in a +very neat hand, was nearly completed. During the troublesome and painful +cure he lost none of his vivacity, but he became less and less amiable. +He could not write a note to ask for anything without scoffing rudely +and bitterly, generally in sardonic verse. + +Herder contributed much to my culture, yet he destroyed my enjoyment of +much that I had loved before, and especially blamed me in the strongest +manner for the pleasure I took in Ovid's "Metamorphoses." I most +carefully concealed from him my interest in certain subjects which had +rooted themselves within me, and were little by little moulding +themselves into poetic form. These were "Goetz von Berlichingen" and +"Faust." Of my poetical labours, I believe I laid before him "The +Accomplices," but I do not recollect that on this account I received +from him either correction or encouragement. + +At this epoch of my life took place a singular episode. During a +delightful tour in beautiful Alsace, round about the Vosges, I and two +fellow-students halted for a time at the house of a Protestant +clergyman, pastor in Sesenheim. I had visited the family previously. +Herder here joined us, and during our readings in the evenings +introduced to us an excellent work, "The Vicar of Wakefield." With the +German translation, he undertook to make us acquainted by reading it +aloud. + +The pastor had two daughters and a son. The family struck me as +corresponding in the most extraordinary manner to that delineated by +Goldsmith. The elder daughter might be taken for Olivia in the story, +and Frederica, the younger, for Sophia, while, as I looked at the boy, I +could scarcely help exclaiming, "Moses, are you here, too?" A Protestant +country clergyman is, perhaps, the most beautiful subject for a modern +idyl; he appears, like Melchizedek, as priest and king in one person. + +Between me and the charming Frederica a mutual affection sprang up. Her +beautiful nature attracted me irresistibly, and I was happy beyond all +bounds at her side. For her I composed many songs to well-known +melodies. They would have made a pretty book; a few of them still +remain, and may easily be found among the others. But we were destined +soon to part. Such a youthful affection, cherished at random, may be +compared to a bombshell thrown at night, which rises with a soft, +brilliant light, mingles for a moment with the stars, then, in +descending, describes a similar path in the reverse direction, and at +last brings destruction where it terminates its course. + + +_V.--Among the Jurists_ + + +In 1772 I went to Wetzlar, the seat of the Reichskammergericht, or +Imperial Chamber. This was a kind of court of chancery for the whole +empire; and I went there in order to gain increased experience in +jurisprudence. Here I found myself in a large company of talented and +vivacious young men, assistants to the commissioners of the various +states, and by them was accorded a genial welcome. + +To one of the legations at Wetzlar was attached a young man of good +position and abilities, named Jerusalem, whose sad suicide soon +afterwards resulted through an unhappy passion for the wife of a friend. +On this history the plan of "The Sorrows of Werther" was founded. The +effect of this little book was great, nay, immense, and chiefly because +it exactly hit the temper of the times. For as it requires but a little +match to blow up an immense mine, so the explosion which followed my +publication was mighty from the circumstances that the youthful world +had already undermined itself; and the shock was great because all +extravagant demands, unsatisfied passions, and imaginary wrongs, were +suddenly brought to an eruption. + +At this period I usually combined the art of design with poetical +composition. Whenever I dictated, or listened to reading, I drew the +portraits of my friends in profile on grey paper in white and black +chalk. But feeling the insufficiency of this copying, I betook myself +once more to language and rhythm, which were much more at my command. +How briskly, how joyously, I went to work with them will appear from the +many poems which, enthusiastically proclaiming the art of nature and the +nature of art, infused, at the moment of production, new spirit into me +as well as in my friends. + +At this epoch, and in the midst of these occupations, I was sitting one +evening with a struggling light in my chamber, when there entered a +well-formed, slender man, who announced himself by the name of Von +Knebel. Much to my satisfaction, I learned that he came from Weimar, +where he was the companion of Prince Constantin. Of matters there I had +already heard much that was favourable; for several strangers who had +come from Weimar assured us that the widowed Duchess Amalia had gathered +round her the best men to assist in the education of the princes, her +sons; that the arts were not only protected by this princess, but were +practised by her with great diligence and zeal. + +At Weimar was also one of the best theatres of Germany, which was made +famous by its actors, as well as by the authors who wrote for it. When I +expressed a wish to become better acquainted with these persons and +things, my visitor replied, in the most friendly manner possible, that +nothing was easier, since the hereditary prince, with his brother, the +Prince Constantin, had just arrived in Frankfort, and desired to see and +know me. + +I at once expressed the greatest willingness to wait upon them; and my +new friend told me that I must not delay, as their stay would not be +long. I proceeded with Von Knebel to the young princes, who received me +in a very easy and friendly manner. + +As the stay of the young princes in Frankfort was necessarily short, +they made me promise to follow them to Mayence. I gave this promise +gladly enough, and visited them. The few days of my stay passed very +pleasantly, for when my new patrons, with whom I enjoyed delightful +conversations on literature, were abroad on visits and banquets, I +remained with their attendants, drew portraits, or went skating. I +returned home full of the kindness I had met with. + + * * * * * + + + + +Conversations with Eckermann + + + The outstanding feature of the remarkable "Conversations with + Eckermann" is this, that the compilation furnishes an + altogether unique record of the working of Goethe's mature + mind. For Goethe's age at the period when the "Conversations" + begin is seventy-three, and eighty-two when they end. John + Peter Eckermann published his work in 1836. In 1848 appeared + an additional portion. Eckermann, born at Winsen, in Hanover, + was the son of a woollen draper. He received an excellent + education, and studied art, under Ramber, in Hanover, but soon + became enamoured of poetry through the influence of Körner and + of Goethe. He became the intimate friend of Goethe, and lived + with him for several years. In describing the friendship, + Eckermann says, "My relation to him was peculiar, and of a + very intimate kind. It was that of the scholar to the master, + of the son to the father, of the poor in culture to the rich + in culture. His conversation was as varied as his works. + Winter and summer, age and youth, seemed with him to be + engaged in a perpetual strife and change." Goethe was one of + the world's most brilliant conversationalists, ranking in this + respect with Coleridge. + + +_I.--On Poets and Poetry_ + + +_Weimar, June_ 10, 1823. I reached here a few days ago, but have not +seen Goethe until to-day. He gave me a most cordial reception. I esteem +this the most fortunate day of my life. Goethe was dressed in a blue +frock-coat. He is a sublime figure. His first words were concerning my +manuscript. "I have just come from _you_" said he. He meant that he had +been reading it all the morning. He commented it enthusiastically. We +talked long together. But I could say little for I could not look at him +enough, with his strong, brown face, full of wrinkles, each wrinkle +being full of expression. He spoke like some old monarch. We parted +affectionately, for every word of his breathed kindness. + +_Jena, September_ 8, 1823. Yesterday morning I had the happiness of +another interview with Goethe. What he said to me was quite important, +and will have a beneficial influence on all my life. All the young poets +of Germany should have the benefit of it. "Do not," said he, "attempt to +produce a great work. It is just this mistake which has done harm to our +best minds. I have myself suffered from this error. What have I not +dropped into the well! The present must assert its rights, and so the +poet will and should give out what presses on him. But if one has a +great work in his head, it expels everything else and deprives life for +the time of all comfort. If as to the whole you err, all time and +trouble are lost. But if the poet daily grasps the present, treating +with fresh sentiment what it offers, he always makes sure of something +good. If sometimes he does not succeed, at any rate he has lost nothing. +The world is so great and rich, and life is so manifold, that occasions +for poems are never lacking. But they must all be poems for special +occasions (_Gelegenheitsgedichte_). All my poems are thus suggested by +incidents in real life. I attach no value to poems snatched out of the +air. You know Furnstein, the so-called poet of nature? He has written +the most fascinating poem possible on hop-culture. I have suggested to +him that he should write songs on handicrafts, especially a weaver's +song, for he has spent his life from youth amongst such folk, and he +understands the subject through and through." + +_February_ 24, 1824. At one to-day I went to Goethe's. He showed me a +short critique he had written on Byron's "Cain," which I read with much +interest. "We see," said he, "how the defectiveness of ecclesiastical +dogmas affects such a mind as Byron's, and how by such a piece he seeks +to emancipate himself from doctrine which has been thrust on him. Truly +the English clergy will not thank him, but I shall wonder whether he +will not proceed to treat Bible subjects, not letting slip such topics +as the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah." + + +_II.--Philosophical Discussions_ + + +_February_ 25, 1824. Goethe was in high spirits at table. He showed me +Frau von Spiegel's album, in which he had written some very beautiful +verses. For two years a place had been left open for him, and he was +delighted that at length he had been able to fulfil an old promise. +Noticing on another page of the album a poem by Tiedge in the style of +his "Urania," Goethe observed that he had suffered considerably from +Tiedge's "Urania," for at one time nothing else was sung and recited. +Said he, "Wherever you went, you found 'Urania' on the table, and that +poem and immortality were the subjects of every conversation. By no +means would I lose the happiness of believing in a future existence, and +indeed I would say with Lorenzo de Medici that all they are dead, even +for this life, who believe in no other. + +"But such incomprehensible matters lie too far off to be a theme of +daily meditation and thought-distracting speculation. And further, let +him who believes in immortality be happy in silence; he has no reason to +hold his head high because of his conviction. Silly women, priding +themselves on believing with Tiedge in immortality, have been offended +at my declaring that in the future state I hoped I should meet none of +those who had believed in it here. For how I should be tormented! The +pious would crowd about me, saying, 'Were we not right? Did we not +predict it? Has it not turned out exactly so?' And thus even up yonder +there would be everlasting ennui." + +_April_ 14, 1824. I went, about one, for a walk with Goethe. We +conversed on the style of different authors. Said he, "Philosophical +speculation is, on the whole, a hindrance to the Germans, for it tends +to induce a tendency to obscurantism. The nearer they approach to +certain philosophical schools, the worse they write. Those Germans write +best who, as business men, and men of real life, confine themselves to +the practical. Thus, Schiller's style is the noblest and most +impressive, as soon as he ceases to philosophise, as I see from his +highly interesting letters, on which I am now busy. Many of our genial +German women in their style excel even many of our famous male writers. + +"The French, in their style, are consistent with their general +character. They are sociable by nature and as such never forget the +public whom they address. They take the trouble to be clear in order to +convince, and agreeable in order to please. The English, as a rule, +write well, as born orators and as practical and realistic men. +Altogether, the style of a writer is a true reflection of his mind. If +anyone would acquire a lucid style, let him first be clear in his +thoughts; if he would command a noble style, he must first possess a +noble character." + +_May_ 2, 1824. During a drive over the hills through Upper Weimar we +could not look enough at the trees in blossom. We remarked that trees +full of white blossom should not be painted, because they make no +picture, just as birches with their foliage are unfit for the foreground +of a picture, because the delicate foliage does not adequately balance +the white trunk. Said Goethe, "Ruysdael never placed a foliaged birch in +the foreground, but only broken birch stems, without leaves. Such a +trunk suits the foreground admirably, for its bright form stands out +most powerfully." + +After some slight discussion of other subjects, we talked of the +erroneous tendency of such artists as would make religion art, while +their art ought to be religion. Goethe observed, "Religion stands in the +same relation to art as every other higher interest of life. It is +merely to be regarded as a material, which has equal claims with all +other vital materials. Also, faith and unbelief are not those organs +with which a work of art is to be comprehended. Far otherwise; totally +different human powers and capacities are required for such +comprehension. Art must appeal to those organs with which we can +apprehend it, or it misses its aim. A religious material may be a good +subject for art, but only if it possesses general human interest. Thus, +the Virgin with the Child is a good subject that may be treated a +hundred times, and will always be seen again with pleasure." + +_November_ 24, 1824. In a conversation this evening concerning Roman and +Greek history, Goethe said, "Roman history is certainly no longer suited +to our time. We have become too humane for the triumphs of Cæsar to be +anything but repellent to us. So also does Greek history offer little to +allure us. The resistance to a foreign enemy is indeed glorious, but the +constant civil wars of states against each other are intolerable. +Besides, the history of our own time is overwhelmingly important. The +battles of Leipzig and Waterloo eclipse Marathon, and such heroes as +Blücher and Wellington are rivals of those of antiquity." + + +_III.--Literary Dicta_ + + +_January_ 10, 1825. In accordance with his deep interest in the English, +Goethe requested me to introduce to him the young Englishmen staying +here. I took this afternoon Mr. H., a young English officer, who, in the +course of the conversation, mentioned that he was reading "Faust," but +found it somewhat difficult. + +Said Goethe, laughing, "Really, I should not have recommended you to +undertake 'Faust.' It is mad stuff, and goes beyond all usual feeling. +But as you have done it of your own accord, without asking me, you will +see how you get through. Faust is so strange an individual that only a +few persons can sympathise with his inner condition. Then the character +of Mephistopheles is also very difficult, because of his irony, and also +because he is the living result of an extensive acquaintance with the +world. But you will see what light comes to you. + +"'Tasso,' on the other hand, lies far nearer to the common feeling of +mankind, and the elaboration of its form is favourable to an easier +understanding of it. What is chiefly needed for reading 'Tasso' is that +one should be no longer a child, and should not have been deprived of +good society." + +_October_ 15, 1825. I found Goethe this evening in a very elevated mood, +and had the happiness of hearing from him many significant observations. +Concerning the state of the newest literature, he said, "Want of +character in individual investigators and writers is the source of all +the evils in our most recent literature. Till now the world believed in +the heroism of Lucretia and of Mucius Scævola, and allowed itself thus +to be stimulated and inspired. But now comes historical criticism, and +says that those persons never lived, but are to be regarded as fables +and fictions, imagined by the great mind of the Romans. What are we to +do with so pitiful a truth? And if the Romans were great enough to +invent such stories, we should at least be great enough to believe +them." + +_December_ 25, 1825. I found Goethe alone this evening, and passed with +him some delightful hours. The conversation at one time turned on Byron, +especially on the disadvantage at which he appears when compared with +the innocent cheerfulness of Shakespeare, and on the frequent and +usually not unmerited blame which he drew on himself by his manifold +works of negation. Said Goethe, "If Byron had had the opportunity of +working off all the opposition that was in him, by delivering many +strong speeches in parliament, he would have been far purer as a poet. +But as he scarcely ever spoke in parliament, he kept in his heart all +that he felt against his nation, and no other means than poetical +expression of his sentiments remained to him. I could therefore style a +great part of his works of negation suppressed parliamentary speeches, +and I think the characterisation would suit them well." + + +_IV.--"Faust" and Victor Hugo_ + + +_May_ 6, 1827. At a dinner-party at Goethe's, after conversation on +certain poems, he said, "The Germans are certainly strange people. They +make life much more burdensome to themselves than they ought by their +deep thoughts and ideas, which they seek everywhere and fix on +everything. Only have the courage to surrender yourself to your +impressions, permit yourself to be moved, instructed and inspired for +something great. But never imagine that all is vanity, if it is not +abstract thought and idea. + +"Next they come and ask what idea I meant to embody in my 'Faust'? As if +I knew that myself, and could inform them. _From Heaven through the +world to hell_ would, indeed, be something; but that is no idea, only a +course of action. And further, that the devil loses the wager, and that +a man, continually struggling from difficult errors towards something +better, should be redeemed, is truly a more effective, and to many a +good, enlightening thought; but it is no idea lying at the basis of the +whole, and of each individual scene. It would have been a fine thing, +indeed, if I had strung so rich and diversified a life as I have brought +to view in 'Faust' upon the slender thread of one single, pervading +idea. + +"It was altogether out of my province, as a poet, to strive to embody +anything abstract. I received in my mind impressions of an animated, +charming, hundredfold kind, just as a lively imagination presented them; +and as a poet I had nothing more to do than artistically to elaborate +these impressions, and so to present them that others might receive like +impressions. But I am somewhat of the opinion that the more +incommensurable, and the more incomprehensible to the understanding a +poetic production is, so much the better it is." + +_June_ 20, 1831. At Goethe's, after dinner, the conversation fell upon +the use and misuse of terms. Said he, "The French use the word +'composition' inappropriately. The expression is degrading as applied to +genuine productions of art and poetry. It is a thoroughly contemptible +word, of which we should seek to get rid as soon as possible. + +"How can one say, Mozart has _composed_ 'Don Juan'! Composition! As if +it were a piece of cake or biscuit, which had been mixed together with +eggs, flour, and sugar! It is a spiritual creation, in which the details +as well as the whole are pervaded by _one_ spirit. Consequently, the +producer did not follow his own experimental impulse, but acted under +that of his demoniac genius." + +_June_ 27, 1831. We conversed about Victor Hugo. "He has a fine talent," +said Goethe. "But he is altogether ensnared in the unhappy romantic +tendency of his time, by which he is constrained to represent, side by +side with the beautiful, the most hateful and intolerable. I have +recently read his 'Notre Dame de Paris,' and needed no little patience +to endure the horror that I felt. It is the most abominable book ever +written! And one is not even compensated by truthful representation of +human nature or character. On the contrary, his book is totally +destitute of nature and truth. The so-called acting personages whom he +brings forward are not men with living flesh and blood, but miserable +wooden puppets, moved according to his fancy and made to produce all +sorts of contortions and grimaces. But what kind of an age is this, +which not only makes such a book possible, but even finds it endurable +and delightful!" + + +_V.--On the Bible_ + + +_Sunday, March_ 11, 1832. This evening for an hour Goethe talked on +various excellent topics. I had purchased an English Bible, but found to +my great regret that it did not include the Apocrypha, because these +were not considered genuine and divinely inspired. I missed the truly +noble Tobias, the wisdom of Solomon and Jesus Sirach, all writings of +such deeply spiritual value, that few others equal them. I expressed to +Goethe my regret at the narrow exclusiveness thus manifested. He +entirely agreed with me. + +"Still," said he, "there are two points of view from which Biblical +subjects may be regarded. There is that of primitive religion, of pure +nature and reason, which is of divine origin. This will ever remain the +same, and will endure as long as divinely endowed beings exist. It is, +however, only for the elect, and is far too high and noble to become +universal. + +"Then there is the point of view of the Church, which is of a more human +nature. This is fallible and fickle, but, though perpetually changing, +it will last as long as there are weak human beings. The light of +cloudless divine revelation is far too pure and radiant for poor, weak +man. But the Church interposes as mediator, to soften and moderate, and +all are helped. Its influence is immense, through the notion that as +successor of Christ it can relieve the burden of human sin. To secure +this power, and to consolidate ecclesiasticism is the special aim of the +Christian priesthood. + +"Therefore it does not so much ask whether this or that book in the +Bible effects a great enlightenment of the mind, it much more looks to +the Mosaic and prophetic and Gospel records for allusions to the fall of +man, and the advent to earth and death of Christ, as the atonement for +sin. Thus you see that for such purposes the noble Tobias, the wisdom of +Solomon, and the sayings of Sirach have little weight. + +"Still, the question as to authenticity in details of the Bible is truly +singular. What is genuine but the really excellent, which harmonises +with the purest reason and nature, and even now ministers to our highest +development? What is spurious but the absurd, hollow, and stupid, which +brings no worthy fruit? If the authenticity of a Biblical writing +depends on the question whether something true throughout has been +handed down to us, we might on some points doubt the genuineness of the +Gospels, of which Mark and Luke were not written from immediate presence +and experience, but long afterwards from oral tradition. And the last, +by the disciple John, was written in his old age. + +"Yet I hold all four evangelists as thoroughly genuine, for there is in +them the reflection of a greatness which emanated from the person of +Jesus, such as only once has appeared on earth. If anyone asks whether +it is in my nature to pay Him devout reverence, I say--'Surely, yes!' I +bow before Him as the divine revelation of the highest principle of +morality. If I am asked whether it is in my nature to revere the sun, +again I say--'Surely, yes!' For the sun is also a manifestation of the +highest, and, indeed, the mightiest which we children of earth are +allowed to behold. But if I am asked whether I am inclined to bow before +a thumb-bone of the apostle Peter or Paul, I say, 'Spare me, and stand +off with your absurdities!' + +"Says the apostle, 'Quench not the spirit.' The high and richly-endowed +clergy fear nothing so much as the enlightenment of the lower orders. +They withheld the Bible from them as long as possible. What can a poor +member of the Christian church think of the princely pomp of a richly +endowed bishop, when against this he sees in the Gospels the poverty of +Christ, travelling humbly on foot with His disciples, while the princely +bishop drives along in a carriage drawn by six horses! + +"We do not at all know," continued Goethe, "all that we owe to Luther +and the Reformation generally. We are emancipated from the fetters of +spiritual narrowness. In consequence of our increasing culture, we have +become capable of reverting to the fountain-head, and of comprehending +Christianity in its purity. We have again the courage to stand with firm +feet upon God's earth, and to realise our divinely endowed human nature. +Let spiritual culture ever go on advancing, let the natural sciences go +on ever gaining in breadth and depth, and let the human mind expand as +it may, it will never go beyond the elevation and moral culture of +Christianity as it shines and gleams in the Gospel! + +"But the more effectually we Protestants advance in our noble +development, so much the more rapidly will the Catholics follow. As soon +as they feel themselves caught in the current of enlightenment, they +must go on to the point where all is but one. + +"The mischievous sectism of Protestantism will also cease, and with it +alienation between father and son, brother and sister. For as soon as +the pure teaching and love of Christ, as they really are, are +comprehended and consistently practised, we shall realise our humanity +as great and free, and cease to attach undue importance to mere outward +form. + +"Furthermore, we shall all gradually advance from a Christianity of word +and faith to one of feeling and action." + +The conversation next turned on the question how far God is influencing +the great natures of the present world. Said Goethe, "If we notice how +people talk, we might almost believe them to be of opinion that God had +withdrawn into silence since that old time before Christ, and that man +was now placed on his own feet, and must see how he can get on without +God. In religious and moral matters a divine influence is still +admitted, but in matters of science and art it is insisted that they are +merely earthly, and nothing more than a product of pure human powers. + +"But now let anyone only attempt with human will and human capabilities +to produce something comparable with the creations that bear the names +of Mozart, Raphael, or Shakespeare. I know right well that these three +noble men are not the only ones, and that in every department of art +innumerable excellent minds have laboured, who have produced results as +perfectly good as those mentioned. But, if they were as great as those, +they transcended ordinary human nature, and were in just the same degree +divinely gifted." + +Goethe was silent, but I cherished his great and good words in my heart. + + * * * * * + + + + +THOMAS GRAY + + +Letters + + + Thomas Gray, the poet and author of the "Elegy written in a + Country Churchyard," was born on December 26, 1716, in London, + and was the only survivor of twelve children. At Eton he + formed friendships with Horace Walpole, Thomas Ashton, and + Richard West, who were later his chief correspondents. At + Cambridge, where Gray took no degree, he began to make + experiments in poetry. In 1739 and 1740 he travelled in + Europe, and in 1742 he had established himself at Peterhouse, + Cambridge, without University position or recognition of any + kind. Here he plunged into the study of classical literature, + and began to work on the "Elegy," which was published in 1751. + He was a shy, sensitive man of very wide learning. Couched in + graceful language, the letters are typical of the best in the + best age of letter-writing, and not only are they fascinating + for the tender and affectionate nature they reveal, but also + for the gleam of real humour which Walpole declared was the + poet's most natural vein. He died on July 30, 1771. + + +_I.--The Student's Freedom_ + + +TO RICHARD WEST + +Peterhouse, _December, 1736._ After this term I shall have nothing more +of college impertinences to undergo. I have endured lectures daily and +hourly since I came last, supported by the hopes of being shortly at +liberty to give myself up to my friends and classical companions, who, +poor souls, though I see them fallen into great contempt with most +people here, yet I cannot help sticking to them. + +Indeed, what can I do else? Must I plunge into metaphysics? Alas! I +cannot see in the dark. Nature has not furnished me with the optics of a +cat. Must I pore upon mathematics? Alas! I cannot see in too much light. +I am no eagle. It is very possible that two and two make four, but I +would not give four farthings to demonstrate this ever so clearly; and +if these be the profits of life, give me the amusements of it. The +people I behold all around me, it seems, know all this, and more, and +yet I do not know one of them who inspires me with any ambition of being +like him. Surely it was of this place, now Cambridge, but formerly known +by the name of Babylon, that the prophet spoke when he said, "The wild +beasts of the desert shall dwell there, and their houses shall be full +of doleful creatures, and owls shall build there and satyrs shall dance +there." You see, here is a pretty collection of desolate animals, which +is verified in this town to a tittle. + + +TO HORACE WALPOLE + +_Burnham, September, 1737._ I have at the distance of half a mile +through a green lane a forest all my own, for I spy no human thing in it +but myself. It is a little chaos of mountains and precipices; mountains, +it is true, that do not ascend much above the clouds, nor are the +declivities quite so amazing as Dover cliff; but just such hills as +people who love their necks as well as I do may venture to climb, and +crags that give the eye as much pleasure as if they were more dangerous. +Both vale and hill are covered with most venerable beeches, and other +very reverend vegetables, that, like most other ancient people, are +always dreaming out their old stories to the winds. At the foot of one +of these squat I, "_Il penseroso_," and there grow to the trunk for a +whole morning. The timorous hare and sportive squirrel gambol around me +like Adam in Paradise, before he had an Eve; but I do not think he read +Virgil, as I commonly do there. + + +_II.--Travels with Horace Walpole_ + + +TO HIS MOTHER + +_Amiens, April, 1739._ We left Dover at noon, and with a pretty brisk +gale reached Calais by five. This is an exceeding old, but very pretty +town, and we hardly saw anything there that was not so new and so +different from England that it surprised us agreeably. We went the next +morning to the great church, and were at high mass, it being Easter +Monday. In the afternoon we took a post-chaise for Boulogne, which was +only eighteen miles further. + +This chaise is a strange sort of conveyance, resembling an ill-shaped +chariot, only with the door opening before, instead of the side; three +horses draw it, one between the shafts, and the other two on each side, +on one of which the postillion rides and drives, too. This vehicle will, +upon occasion, go fourscore miles a day; but Mr. Walpole, being in no +hurry, chooses to make easy journeys of it, and we go about six miles an +hour. They are no very graceful steeds, but they go well, and through +roads which they say are bad for France, but to me they seem gravel +walks and bowling greens. In short, it would be the finest travelling in +the world were it not for the inns, which are most terrible places +indeed. + +The country we have passed through hitherto has been flat, open, but +agreeably diversified with villages, fields well cultivated, and little +rivers. On every hillock is a windmill, a crucifix, or a Virgin Mary +dressed in flowers and a sarcenet robe; one sees not many people or +carriages on the road; now and then, indeed, you meet a strolling friar, +a countryman, or a woman riding astride on a little ass, with short +petticoats and a great headdress of blue wool. + + +TO THOMAS ASHTON + +_Paris, April, 1739._ Here there are infinite swarms of inhabitants and +more coaches than men. The women in general dress in sacs, flat hoops of +five yards wide, nosegays of artificial flowers on one shoulder, and +faces dyed in scarlet up to the eyes. The men in bags, roll-ups, muffs, +and solitaires. + +We had, at first arrival, an inundation of visits pouring in upon us, +for all the English are acquainted, and herd much together, and it is no +easy matter to disengage oneself from them, so that one sees but little +of the French themselves. To be introduced to people of high quality it +is absolutely necessary to be master of the language. There is not a +house where they do not play, nor is any one at all acceptable unless he +does so, too, a professed gamester being the most advantageous character +a man can have at Paris. The abbés and men of learning are of easy +access enough, but few English that travel have knowledge enough to take +any great pleasure in that company. + +We are exceedingly unsettled and irresolute; don't know our own minds +for two moments together, and try to bring ourselves to a state of +perfect apathy. In short, I think the greatest evil that could have +happened to us is our liberty, for we are not at all capable to +determine our own actions. + + +TO HIS MOTHER + +_Lyons, October 13, 1739._ We have been to see a famous monastery, +called the Grand Chartreuse, and had no reason to think our time lost. +After having travelled seven days, very slow (for we did not change +horses, it being impossible for a chaise to go post in these roads), we +arrived at a little village among the mountains of Savoy, called +Echelles; from thence we proceeded on horses, who are used to the way, +to the mountain of the Chartreuse. It is six miles to the top; the road +runs winding up it, commonly not six feet broad; on one hand is the +rock, with woods of pine-trees hanging overhead; on the other, a +monstrous precipice, almost perpendicular, at the bottom of which rolls +a torrent, that sometimes is tumbling among the fragments of stone that +have fallen from on high, and sometimes precipitating itself down vast +descents with a noise like thunder, which is made still greater by the +echo from the mountains on each side, concurs to form one of the most +solemn, the most romantic, and the most astonishing scenes I ever +beheld. Add to this the strange views made by the crags and cliffs on +the other hand, the cascades that in many places throw themselves from +the very summit down into the vale and the river below. + +This place St. Bruno chose to retire to, and upon its very top founded +the convent, which is the superior of the whole order. When we came +there, the two fathers who are commissioned to entertain strangers (for +the rest must neither speak to one another nor to anyone else) received +us very kindly, and set before us a repast of dried fish, eggs, butter, +and fruits, all excellent in their kind, and extremely neat. They +pressed us to spend the night there, and to stay some days with them; +but this we could not do, so they led us about their house, which is +like a little city, for there are 100 fathers, besides 300 servants, +that make their clothes, grind their corn, press their wine, and do +everything among themselves. The whole is quite orderly and simple; +nothing of finery, but the wonderful decency and the strange situation +more than supply the place of it. + + +TO THE SAME + +_Turin, November 7, 1739_. I am this night arrived here, and have just +set down to rest me after eight days tiresome journey. On the seventh +day we came to Lanebourg, the last town in Savoy; it lies at the foot of +the famous Mount Cenis, which is so situated as to allow no room for any +way but over the very top of it. Here the chaise was forced to be pulled +to pieces, and the baggage and that to be carried by mules. We ourselves +were wrapped up in our furs, and seated upon a sort of matted chair +without legs, which is carried upon poles in the manner of a bier, and +so began to ascend by the help of eight men. + +It was six miles to the top, where a plain opens itself about as many +more in breadth, covered perpetually with very deep snow, and in the +midst of that a great lake of unfathomable depth, from whence a river +takes its rise, and tumbles over monstrous rocks quite down the other +side of the mountain. The descent is six miles more, but infinitely more +steep than the going up; and here the men perfectly fly down with you, +stepping from stone to stone with incredible swiftness, in places where +none but they could go three places without falling. The immensity of +the precipices, the roaring of the river and torrents that run into it, +the huge crags covered with ice and snow, and the clouds below you and +about you, are objects it is impossible to conceive without seeing them. +We were but five hours in performing the whole, from which you may judge +of the rapidity of the men's motion. + + +TO THE SAME + +_Rome, April 2, 1740._ The first entrance of Rome is prodigiously +striking. It is by a noble gate, designed by Michael Angelo, and adorned +with statues; this brings you into a large square, in the midst of which +is a large block of granite, and in front you have at one view two +churches of a handsome architecture, and so much alike that they are +called the twins; with three streets, the middle-most of which is one of +the longest in Rome. As high as my expectation was raised, I confess, +the magnificence of this city infinitely surpasses it. You cannot pass +along a street but you have views of some palace, or church, or square, +or fountain, the most picturesque and noble one can imagine. + + +_III.--The Birth of the "Elegy"_ + + +TO HORACE WALPOLE + +_January_, 1747. I am very sorry to hear you treat philosophy and her +followers like a parcel of monks and hermits, and think myself obliged +to vindicate a profession I honour. The first man that ever bore the +name used to say that life was like the Olympic games, where some came +to show the strength and agility of their bodies; others, as the +musicians, orators, poets, and historians, to show their excellence in +those arts; the traders to get money; and the better sort, to enjoy the +spectacle and judge of all these. They did not then run away from +society for fear of its temptations; they passed their days in the midst +of it, conversation was their business; they cultivated the arts of +persuasion, on purpose to show men it was their interest, as well as +their duty, not to be foolish and false and unjust; and that, too, in +many instances with success; which is not very strange, for they showed +by their life that their lessons were not impracticable. + + +TO THE SAME + +_Cambridge, February_ 11, 1751. As you have brought me into a little +sort of distress, you must assist me, I believe, to get out of it as +well as I can. Yesterday I had the misfortune of receiving a letter from +certain gentlemen who have taken the "Magazine of Magazines" into their +hands. They tell me that an "ingenious" poem, called "Reflections in a +Country Church-* yard," has been communicated to them, which they are +printing forthwith; that they are informed that the "excellent" author +of it is I by name, and that they beg not only his "indulgence," but the +"honour" of his correspondence, etc. + +As I am not at all disposed to be either so indulgent or so +correspondent as they desire, I have but one bad way left to escape the +honour they would inflict upon me; and therefore am obliged to desire +you would make Dodsley print it immediately (which may be done in less +than a week's time) from your copy, but without my name, in what form is +most convenient for him, but on his best paper and character. He must +correct the press himself, and print it without any interval between the +stanzas, because the sense is in some places continued beyond them; and +the title must be, "Elegy, written in a Country Churchyard." If he would +add a line or two to say it came into his hands by accident, I should +like it better. + + +TO STONEHEWER + +_Cambridge, August_ 18, 1758. I am as sorry as you seem to be that our +acquaintance harped so much on the subject of materialism when I saw him +with you in town. That we are indeed mechanical and dependent beings, I +need no other proof than my own feelings; and from the same feelings I +learn with equal conviction that we are not merely such; that there is a +power within that struggles against the force and bias of that +mechanism, commands its motion, and, by frequent practice, reduces it to +that ready obedience which we call "habit"; and all this in conformity +to a preconceived opinion, to that least material of all agents, a +thought. + +I have known many in his case who, while they thought they were +conquering an old prejudice, did not perceive they were under the +influence of one far more dangerous; one that furnishes us with a ready +apology for all our worst actions, and opens to us a full licence for +doing whatever we please; and yet these very people were not at all the +more indulgent to other men, as they should have been; their indignation +to such as offended them was nothing mitigated. In short, the truth is, +they wished to be persuaded of that opinion for the sake of its +convenience, but were not so in their heart. + + +TO HORACE WALPOLE + +1760. I am so charmed with the two specimens of Erse poetry +(Macpherson's) that I cannot help giving you the trouble to inquire a +little farther about them. + +Is there anything known of the author or authors, and of what antiquity +they are supposed to be? Is there any more to be had of equal beauty, or +at all approaching to it? I have often been told that the poem called +"Hardycanute," which I always admired, and still admire, was the work of +somebody that lived a few years ago. This I do not at all believe, +though it has evidently been retouched in places by some modern hand; +but, however, I am authorised by this report to ask whether the two +poems in question are certainly antique and genuine. I make this inquiry +in quality of an antiquary, and am not otherwise concerned about it; +for, if I were sure that anyone now living in Scotland had written them +to divert himself, and laugh at the credulity of the world, I would +undertake a journey into the Highlands only for the pleasure of seeing +him. + + * * * * * + + + + +ANTONY HAMILTON + + +Memoirs of the Count de Grammont + + + Count Antony Hamilton, soldier, courtier, and author, was born + at Roscrea, Tipperary, in 1646. His father was George + Hamilton, grandson of the Duke of Hamilton. At the death of + Charles I., the Hamilton family took refuge abroad until the + Restoration, and Antony's boyhood, until his fourteenth year, + was spent in France. Shortly after their return with the + Stuart dynasty, the illustrious Count de Grammont, exiled from + France in 1662, won the affections of Elizabeth, Antony's + sister, and then with characteristic inconstancy, chose to + forget her; but he was caught up at Dover by the brothers + Antony and George, and brought back to fulfil his engagement. + After James II. had retired from England, Antony Hamilton + frequented the court of the fallen monarch at Saint-Germain, + where he died on April 21, 1720. In the "Memoirs of the Count + de Grammont," first published anonymously in 1713, Hamilton, + though of British birth, wrote one of the great classics of + the French language. The spirited wit, the malicious and + graceful gaiety of these adventures, are perfectly French in + quality. + + +_I.--Soldier and Gamester_ + + +Those who read only for their amusement seem to me more reasonable than +those who read only in order to discover errors; and I may say at once +that I write for the former, without troubling myself about the +erudition of the critics. What does chronological order matter, or an +exact narrative, if only this sketch succeeds in giving a perfect +impression of its original? + +I write, with something of Plutarch's freedom, a life more amazing than +any which that author has left us; an inimitable character whose +radiance covers faults which it would be vain to dissemble; an +illustrious personality whose vices and virtues are inextricably +interwoven, and seem as rare in their perfect harmony as they are +brilliant in their contrast. In war, in love, at the gaming-table, and +in all the varied circumstances of a long career, Count de Grammont has +been the wonder of his age. + +It is not for me to describe him as Bussy and Saint-Evremond have tried +to do; his own words shall tell the pleasant story of sieges and +battles, and of his not less glorious stratagems in love or at play. + +Louis XIII. reigned, and Cardinal Richelieu governed the kingdom. Great +men were in command of little armies, and these little armies won great +achievements. The fortunes of powerful houses depended on the minister's +favour. His vast projects were establishing the formidable grandeur of +the France of to-day. But matters of police were a trifle neglected; the +highways were unsafe, and theft went unpunished. Youth, entering on +life, took what part it chose; everyone might be a knight; everyone who +could became a beneficed priest. The sacred and military callings were +not distinguished by their dress, and the Chevalier de Grammont adorned +them both at the siege of Trin. + +Many deeds of daring marked this siege of Trin; there had been great +fatigues and many losses. But of boredom, after De Grammont's arrival, +there was never any throughout the army; no more weariness in the +trenches, no more dulness among the generals. Everywhere, this man +sought and carried joy. + +Some vainly imitated him; others more wisely sought his friendship. +Among these was Matta, a fellow of infinite frankness, probity, and +naturalness, and of the finest discernment and delicacy. A friendship +was quickly established between the two; they agreed to live together, +sharing expenses, and began to give a series of sumptuous and elegant +banquets, at which they found the cards marvellously profitable. The +chevalier became the fashion, and it was considered bad form to +contravene his taste. + +But the greatest prosperity is not always the most lasting. Lavish +expenditure such as theirs begins to be felt when the luck changes, and +the chevalier soon had to call his genius to aid him in maintaining his +honourable reputation. Rejecting Matta's suggestion of retrenchment and +reforms as contrary to the honour of France, Grammont laid before him +the better way. He proposed to invite Count de Caméran, a wealthy and +eager player, to supper on the following evening. Matta objected their +present straits. + +"Have you not a grain of imagination?" continued the chevalier. "Order a +supper of the best. He will pay. But listen first to the simple +precautions which I mean to take. You command the Guards, don't you? +Well, have fifteen or twenty men, under your Sergeant Laplace, lying in +some quiet place between here and headquarters." + +"Great heavens!" cried Matta. "An ambush? You mean to rob the unhappy +man? I cannot go so far as that!" + +"Poor simpleton that you are!" was the reply. "Look fairly at the facts. +There is every appearance that we shall gain his money. The Piedmontese, +such as he is, are honest enough, but are by nature absurdly suspicious. +He commands the cavalry. Well, you are a man who cannot rule your +tongue, and it is ten to one that some of your jests will make him +anxious. If he were to take into his head that he was being cheated, +what might not happen? He usually has eight or ten mounted men attending +him, and we must guard against his natural resentment at losing." + +"Give me your hand, dear chevalier," said Matta, "and forgive me for +having doubted you. How wonderful you are! It had never occurred to me +before that a player at the card-table should be backed by a detachment +of infantry outside." + +The supper passed most agreeably, Matta drinking more than usual to +stifle some remaining scruples. The chevalier, brilliant as ever, kept +his guest in continual merriment, whom he was soon to make so serious; +and Caméran's ardour was divided between the good cheer on the table and +the play that was to follow. Meanwhile, the trusty Laplace drew up his +men in the darkness. + +De Grammont, calling to mind the many deceits that had at various times +been practised upon him, steeled his heart against sentimental weakness; +and Matta, unwilling spectator of violated hospitality, went to sleep in +an easy-chair. Play began for small sums, but rose to higher stakes; and +presently Matta was awakened by the loud indignation of their +unfortunate guest to find the cards flying through the air. + +"Play no more, my poor count!" cried Matta, laughing at his transports +of rage. "Don't hope for a change of luck!" + +Caméran insisted, however, and Matta was again aroused by a more furious +storm. "Stop playing!" he shouted. "Don't I tell you it is impossible +that you should win? We are cheating you!" + +The Chevalier de Grammont, all the more annoyed at this ill-placed jest +because it had a certain appearance of truth, rebuked Matta for his rude +gaiety; but the losing player, reassured by Matta's frankness, refused +to be offended by him, and turned again to deal the cards. Caméran lost +fifteen hundred pistoles and paid them the next morning. Matta, severely +reprimanded for his dangerous impertinence, confessed that a brush +between the opposing forces outside would have been a diverting +conclusion to the evening. + + +_II.--A Complete Education_ + + +"Tell me the story of your education," said Matta one evening, as the +intimacy of the two friends advanced. "The most trifling particulars of +a life like yours must be well worth knowing. But don't begin with an +enumeration of your ancestors, for I know you are wholly ignorant of +their name and rank." + +"What poor jest is that?" replied the count. "Not all the world is as +ignorant as you. It was owing to my father's own choice that he was not +son of King Henry IV. His majesty desired nothing more than to recognise +him, but my treacherous parent was obdurate to the end. Think how the De +Grammonts would have stood if he had only kept to the truth. I see you +laugh, but it's as true as the Gospel. + +"But to come to facts. I was sent to college with a view to the Church, +but as I had other views, I profited little. I was so fond of gaming +that my teachers lost their Latin in trying to teach it to me. Old +Brinon, who accompanied me as servant and governor, threatened me with +my mother's anger, but I rarely listened. I left college very much as I +entered it, though they considered that I knew enough for the living +which my brother had procured for me. + +"He had just married the niece of the great Richelieu, to whom he wished +to present me. I arrived in Paris, and after enjoying for a few days the +run of the town in order to lose my rusticity, I put on a cassock to +appear at court in a clerical character. But my hair was well powdered +and dressed, my white boots and gilt spurs showed below, and the +cardinal was offended at what he took to be a slight on the tonsure. + +"The costume, a compromise between Rome and the army, delighted the +court, but my brother pointed out that the time had come to choose +between them. 'On the one hand,' he said, 'by declaring for the Church +you may have great possessions and a life of idleness; on the other +hand, a soldier's life offers you slender pay, broken arms and legs, the +court's ingratitude, and at length, perhaps, the rank of camp-marshal, +with a glass eye and a wooden leg. Choose.' + +"'I very well know,' I replied, 'that these two careers cannot be +compared as regards the comfort and convenience of life; but since it is +our duty to seek salvation first of all, I will renounce the Church that +I may save my soul--always on the understanding that I may keep my +benefice.' Neither my brother's remonstrances nor his authority could +shake my resolution, and I had even to go without my benefice. + +"My mother, who hoped that I should be a saint in the Church, but feared +that in the world I should become a devil, or be killed in battle, was +at first inconsolable. But after I had somewhat acquired the manners of +the court and of society she idolised me, and kept me with her as long +as possible. At last the time came for my departure to the war, and the +faithful Brinon undertook to be responsible for my morals and welfare, +as well as for my safety on the field. + +"Brinon and I fell out very soon. He had been entrusted with four +hundred pistoles for my charges, and I naturally wanted to have them. +Brinon refused to part with the money, and I was compelled to take it by +force. He made such ado about it I might have been tearing the heart +from his breast. From this point my spirits rose exceedingly. + +"At last we reached Lyons. Two soldiers stopped us at the gate to take +us to the governor, and I ordered one of them to guide me to the best +hotel, while the other should take Brinon before the governor to give an +account of my journey and purpose. There is as good entertainment in +Lyons as in Paris, but, as usual, my soldier led me to the house of one +of his friends, praising it as the haunt of the best company. We came +thither, and I was left in the hands of the landlord, who was Swiss by +race, poisoner by profession, and robber by custom. + +"Presently Brinon arrived, angrier than an aged monkey, and, finding me +preparing to go down to the company below, assured me that there were +none in the house but a dozen noisy gamblers, playing cards and dice. +But I had become ungovernable since I had secured the money, and sent +him off to sup and sleep, ordering the horses for the hour before dawn. +My money began to tingle in my pocket from the moment when Brinon spoke +of the cards. + +"The public room below was crowded with the most astonishing figures. I +had expected well-dressed folk, and here were German and Swiss chapmen +playing backgammon with the manners of cattle. One especially was +pointed out to me by my host as a horse-dealer from Basle, who was +willing to play high, and was always ready to pay his losses. This was +sufficient. I immediately proposed to ruin that horse-dealer. I stood +behind him and studied his play, which was inconceivably bad. + +"We dined side by side, and when the worst meal I have ever taken was +finished, everyone disappeared, with the exception of my Swiss and the +landlord. After a little conversation I proposed a game, and, +apologising for the great liberty he was taking, the horse-dealer +consented. I won, and won again. Brinon entered to interrupt us, and I +turned him out of the room. The play continued in my favour until the +little Swiss, having passed over the stakes, apologised again, and would +have retired. That, however, was not what I wanted. I offered to stake +all my winnings in one throw. He made a good deal of difficulty over it, +but at last consented, and won. I was annoyed, and staked again. Again +he won. There was no more bad play now. Throw after throw, without +exception, went in his favour, until all my money was gone. Then he +rose, apologetic as ever, wished me good-night, and left the house. Thus +my education was completed." + +"But what did you do then?" Matta inquired. + +"Brinon hadn't given me all the money." + + +_III.--The Restoration Court_ + + +The Chevalier de Grammont had visited England at the time when that +proud nation lay under Cromwell's yoke, and all was sad and serious in +the finest city of the world. But he found a very different scene the +next time he crossed the Channel. The joy of the Restoration was +everywhere. The very people who had solemnly abjured the Stuart line +were feasting and rejoicing on its return. + +He arrived about two years after Charles II. had ascended the throne, +and his welcome at the English court mitigated his sorrows at leaving +France. It was indeed a happy retreat for an exile of his character. +Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the French court, he was +surprised at the refinement and majesty of that of England. The king was +second to none in bodily or in mental graces, his temperament was +agreeable and familiar. Capable of everything when affairs of state were +urgent, he was unable to apply himself in times of ease; his heart was +often the dupe, and oftener still the slave, of his affections. The Duke +of York was of a different character. His courage was reputed +indomitable, his word inviolable, and his economy, pride, and industry +were praised by all. + +The Duke of Ormonde enjoyed the confidence and esteem of his royal +master. The magnitude of his services, his high birth and personal +merit, and the sacrifices which he had made in following the fortunes of +Charles II. justified his elevation to be master of the king's +household, first gentleman of the chamber, and governor of Ireland. He +was, so to speak, the Marshal de Grammont of the English court. The Duke +of Buckingham and the Count of St. Albans were in England what they had +been in France; the former, spirited and fiery, dissipating ingloriously +his immense possessions; the other, without notable talent, having risen +from indigence to a considerable fortune, which his losses at play and +abundant hospitality seemed only to increase. + +Lord Berkeley, who later became Lord Falmouth, was the king's confidant +and favourite, though a man of no great gifts, either physical or +intellectual; but the native nobility of his mind was shown in an +unprecedented disinterestedness, so that he cared for nothing but the +glory of his master. So true-hearted was he, that no one would have +taken him to be a courtier. + +The eldest of the Hamiltons was the best-dressed man at court. He was +handsome, and had those happy talents which lead to fortune and to the +victories of love. He was the most assiduous and polished of courtiers; +no one danced or flirted more gracefully, and these are no small merits +in a court which lives on feasts and gallantry. The handsome Sydney, +less dangerous than he seemed, had too little vivacity to make good the +promise of his features. + +Strangely enough, it was on the little Jermyn, nephew and adopted son of +the aged St. Albans, that all good fortunes showered. Backed by his +uncle's wealth, he had made a brave show at the court of the Princess of +Orange, and, as is so often the case, magnificent equipments had made a +way for love. True, he was a courageous and well-bred man, but his +personal attractions were slight; he was small, with a big head and +short legs, and though his features were not disagreeable, his gait and +manner were affected. His wit was limited to a few expressions, which he +used indiscriminately in raillery and in wooing; yet on these poor +advantages was founded a formidable success in gallantry. His reputation +was well established in England before ever he arrived. If a woman's +mind be prepared, the way is open to her heart, and Jermyn found the +ladies of the English court favourably disposed. + +Such were the heroes of the court. As for the beauties, one could not +turn without seeing some of them. Those of greatest repute were Lady +Castlemaine (later Duchess of Cleveland), Lady Chesterfield, Lady +Shrewsbury, with a hundred other stars of this shining constellation; +but Miss Hamilton and Miss Stewart outshone them all. The new queen +added but little to its brilliancy, either personally or by the members +of her suite. + +Into this society, then, the Chevalier de Grammont entered. He was +familiar with everyone, adapted himself readily to their customs, +enjoyed everything, praised everything, and was delighted to find the +manners of the court neither coarse nor barbarous. With his natural +complacency, instead of the impertinent fastidiousness of which other +foreigners had been guilty, he delighted the whole of England. + +At first he paid court to the king, with whom he found favour. He played +high, and rarely lost. He was soon in so much request that his presence +at a dinner or reception had to be secured eight or ten days beforehand. +These unintermitted social duties wearied him, but he acceded to them as +inevitable, keeping himself free, however, for supper at home. The hour +of these exquisite little suppers was irregular, because it depended on +the course of play; the company was small, but well-chosen. The pick of +the courtiers accepted his invitations, and the celebrated +Saint-Evremond, a fellow exile, was always of the party. De Grammont was +his hero, and Saint-Evremond used to make prudent little lectures on his +friend's weakness. + +"Here you are," he would say, "in the most agreeable and fortunate +circumstances which a man of your humour could find. You are the delight +of a youthful, lively and gallant court. The king makes you one of every +pleasant party. You play every night to morning, without knowing what it +is to lose. You spend lavishly, but your fortune is multiplying itself +beyond your wildest dreams. My dear Chevalier, leave well alone. Don't +renew your ancient follies. Keep to your gaming; amass money; do not +interfere with love." And De Grammont would laugh at his mentor as the +"Cato of Normandy." + + +_IV.--The Chevalier's Marriage_ + + +The Hamilton family lived next to court, in a large house where the most +distinguished people in London, and among them the Chevalier de +Grammont, were to be found daily. Everyone agreed that Miss Hamilton +deserved a sincere and worthy attachment; her birth was of the highest +and her charms were universally acknowledged. Her figure was beautiful, +every movement was gracious, and the ladies of the court were led by her +taste in dress and in coiffure. Affecting neither vivacity nor +deliberation in speech, she said as much as was needed, and no more. +After seeing her, the Chevalier wasted no more time elsewhere. + +The English court was at this time seething with amorous intrigues, and +the Chevalier and his friends were involved in many a risky adventure. +The days were spent in hunting, the nights in dancing and at play. One +of the most splendid masquerades was devised by the queen herself. In +this spectacle, each dancer was to represent a particular nation; and +you may imagine that the tailors and dressmakers were kept busy for many +days. During these preparations, Miss Hamilton took a fancy to ridicule +two very pushing ladies of the court. + +Lady Muskerry, like most great heiresses, was without physical +endowments. She was short, stout, and lame, and her features were +disagreeable; but she was the victim of a passion for dress and for +dancing. The queen, in her kindness to the public, never omitted to make +Lady Muskerry dance at a court ball; but it was impossible to introduce +her into a superb pageant such as the projected masquerade. + +To this lady, then, when the queen was sending her invitations, Miss +Hamilton addressed a fac-simile note, commanding her attendance in the +character of a Babylonian; and to another, a Miss Blague, who was +extremely blonde with a most insipid tint, she sent several yards of the +palest yellow ribbon, requesting her to wear it in her hair. The jest, +which succeeded admirably, was characteristic of Miss Hamilton's playful +disposition. + +During a season at Tunbridge Wells, and another a Bath, the brilliant +Chevalier, admired by all and more successful than ever at play, +prosecuted his suit. Then, almost all the merry courtier-lovers fell at +once into the bonds of marriage. The beautiful Miss Stewart married the +Duke of Richmond; the invincible little Jermyn fell to a conceited lady +from the provinces; Lord Rochester took a melancholy heiress; George +Hamilton married the lovely Miss Jennings; and, lastly, the Chevalier de +Grammont, as the reward of a constancy which he had never shown before, +and which he has never practised since, became the possessor of the +charming Miss Hamilton. + + * * * * * + + + + +NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE + + +Our Old Home + + + On the election of Franklin Pierce as President of the United + States, Hawthorne was appointed consul at Liverpool, whither + he sailed in 1853, resigning in 1857 to go to Rome, and + returning to America four years later. "Our Old Home" is the + fruit of this period spent in England. It was written at + Concord, and first appeared serially during 1863 in the + "Atlantic Monthly." Although "Our Old Home" gave no little + offence to English readers, nevertheless it exhibits the + author as keenly observant of their characteristics and life. + (See FICTION.) + + +_I.--Consular Experiences_ + + +The Liverpool Consulate of the United States, in my day, was located in +Washington Buildings, in the neighbourhood of some of the oldest docks. +Here in a stifled and dusky chamber I spent wearily four good years of +my existence. Hither came a great variety of visitors, principally +Americans, but including almost every other nationality, especially the +distressed and downfallen ones. All sufferers, or pretended ones, in the +cause of Liberty sought the American Consulate in hopes of bread, and +perhaps to beg a passage to the blessed home of Freedom. + +My countrymen seemed chiselled in sharper angles than I had imagined at +home. They often came to the Consulate in parties merely to see how +their public servant was getting on with his duties. + +No people on earth have such vagabond habits as ourselves. A young +American will deliberately spend all his resources in an aesthetic +peregrination of Europe. Often their funds held out just long enough to +bring them to the doors of my Consulate. Among these stray Americans I +remember one ragged, patient old man, who soberly affirmed that he had +been wandering about England more than a quarter of a century, doing his +utmost to get home, but never rich enough to pay his passage. + +I recollect another queer, stupid, fat-faced individual, a country +shopkeeper from Connecticut, who had come over to England solely to have +an interview with the queen. He had named one of his children for her +majesty, and the other for Prince Albert, and had transmitted +photographs of them to the illustrious godmother, which had been +acknowledged by her secretary. He also had a fantastic notion that he +was rightful heir to a rich English estate. The cause of this particular +insanity lies deep in the Anglo-American heart. We still have an +unspeakable yearning towards England, and I might fill many pages with +instances of this diseased American appetite for English soil. A +respectable-looking woman, exceedingly homely, but decidedly New +Englandish, came to my office with a great bundle of documents, +containing evidences of her indubitable claim to the site on which all +the principal business part of Liverpool has long been situated. + +All these matters, however, were quite distinct from the real business +of that great Consulate, which is now woefully fallen off. The technical +details I left to the treatment of two faithful, competent English +subordinates. An American has never time to make himself thoroughly +qualified for a foreign post before the revolution of the political +wheel discards him from his office. For myself, I was not at all the +kind of man to grow into an ideal consul. I never desired to be burdened +with public influence, and the official business was irksome. When my +successor arrived, I drew a long, delightful breath. + +These English sketches comprise a few of the things that I took note of, +in many escapes from my consular servitude. Liverpool is a most +convenient point to get away from. I hope that I do not compromise my +American patriotism by acknowledging that in visiting many famous +localities, I was often conscious of a fervent hereditary attachment to +the native soil of our forefathers, and felt it to be our Old Home. + + +_II.--A Sentimental Experience_ + + +There is a small nest of a place in Leamington which I remember as one +of the cosiest nooks in England. The ordinary stream of life does not +run through this quiet little pool, and few of the inhabitants seem to +be troubled with any outside activities. + +Its original nucleus lies in the fiction of a chalybeate well. I know +not if its waters are ever tasted nowadays, but it continues to be a +resort of transient visitors. It lies in pleasant Warwickshire at the +very midmost point of England, surrounded by country seats and castles, +and is the more permanent abode of genteel, unoccupied, not very wealthy +people. + +My chief enjoyment there lay in rural walks to places of interest in the +neighbourhood. The high-roads are pleasant, but a fresher interest is to +be found in the footpaths which go wandering from stile to stile, along +hedges and across broad fields, and through wooded parks. These by-paths +admit the wayfarer into the very heart of rural life. Their antiquity +probably exceeds that of the Roman ways; the footsteps of the aboriginal +Britons first wore away the grass, and the natural flow of intercourse +from village to village has kept the track bare ever since. An American +farmer would plough across any such path. Old associations are sure to +be fragrant herbs in English nostrils, but we pull them up as weeds. + +I remember such a path, which connects Leamington with the small village +of Lillington. The village consists chiefly of one row of dwellings, +growing together like the cells of a honeycomb, without intervening +gardens, grass-plots, orchards, or shade trees. Beyond the first row +there was another block of small, old cottages with thatched roofs. I +never saw a prettier rural scene. In front of the whole row was a +luxuriant hawthorne hedge, and belonging to each cottage was a little +square of garden ground. The gardens were chock-full of familiar, +bright-coloured flowers. The cottagers evidently loved their little +nests, and kindly nature helped their humble efforts with its flowers, +moss, and lichens. + +Not far from these cottages a green lane turned aside to an ideal +country church and churchyard. The tower was low, massive, and crowned +with battlements. We looked into the windows and beheld the dim and +quiet interior, a narrow space, but venerable with the consecration of +many centuries. A well-trodden path led across the churchyard. Time +gnaws an English gravestone with wonderful appetite. And yet this, same +ungenial climate has a lovely way of dealing with certain horizontal +monuments. The unseen seeds of mosses find their way into the lettered +furrows, and are made to germinate by the watery sunshine of the English +sky; and by-and-bye, behold, the complete inscription beautifully +embossed in velvet moss on the marble slab! I found an almost illegible +stone very close to the church, and made out this forlorn verse. + + Poorly lived, + And poorly died; + Poorly buried, + And no one cried. + +From Leamington, the road to Warwick is straight and level till it +brings you to an arched bridge over the Avon. Casting our eyes along the +quiet stream through a vista of willows, we behold the grey magnificence +of Warwick Castle. From the bridge the road passes in front of the +Castle Gate, and enters the principal street of Warwick. + +Proceeding westward through the town, we find ourselves confronted by a +huge mass of rock, penetrated by a vaulted passage, which may well have +been one of King Cymbeline's gateways; and on the top of the rock sits a +small, old church, communicating with an ancient edifice that +looks down on the street. It presents a venerable specimen of the +timber-and-plaster style of building; the front rises into many gables, +the windows mostly open on hinges; the whole affair looks very old, but +the state of repair is perfect. + +On a bench, enjoying the sunshine, and looking into the street, a few +old men are generally to be seen, wrapped in old-fashioned cloaks and +wearing the identical silver badges which the Earl of Leicester gave to +the twelve original Brethren of Leicester's Hospital--a community which +exists to-day under the modes established for it in the reign of Queen +Elizabeth. This sudden cropping-up of an apparently dead and buried +state of society produces a picturesque effect. + +The charm of an English scene consists in the rich verdure of the +fields, in the stately wayside trees, and in the old and high +cultivation that has humanised the very sods. To an American there is a +kind of sanctity even in an English turnip-field. + +After my first visit to Leamington, I went to Lichfield to see its +beautiful cathedral, and because it was the birthplace of Dr. Johnson, +with whose sturdy English character I became acquainted through the good +offices of Mr. Boswell. As a man, a talker, and a humorist, I knew and +loved him. I might, indeed, have had a wiser friend; the atmosphere in +which he breathed was dense, and he meddled only with the surface of +life. But then, how English! + +I know not what rank the cathedral of Lichfield holds among its sister +edifices. To my uninstructed vision it seemed the object best worth +gazing at in the whole world. + +Seeking for Johnson's birthplace, I found a tall and thin house, with a +roof rising steep and high. In a corner-room of the basement, where old +Michael Johnson may have sold books, is now what we should call a +dry-goods store. I could get no admittance, and had to console myself +with a sight of the marble figure sitting in the middle of the Square +with his face turned towards the house. A bas-relief on the pedestal +shows Johnson doing penance in the market-place of Uttoxeter for an act +of disobedience to his father, committed fifty years before. + +The next day I went to Uttoxeter on a sentimental pilgrimage to see the +very spot where Johnson had stood. How strange it is that tradition +should not have kept in mind the place! How shameful that there should +be no local memorial of this incident, as beautiful and touching a +passage as can be cited out of any human life! + + +_III.--The English Vanity Fair_ + + +One summer we found a particularly delightful abode in one of the oases +that have grown up on the wide waste of Blackheath. A friend had given +us pilgrims and dusty wayfarers his suburban residence, with all its +conveniences, elegances, and snuggeries, its lawn and its cosy +garden-nooks. I already knew London well, and I found the quiet of my +temporary haven more attractive than anything that the great town could +offer. Our domain was shut in by a brick wall, softened by shrubbery, +and beyond our immediate precincts there was an abundance of foliage. +The effect was wonderfully sylvan and rural; only we could hear the +discordant screech of a railway-train as it reached Blackheath. It gave +a deeper delight to my luxurious idleness that we could contrast it with +the turmoil which I escaped. + +Beyond our own gate I often went astray on the great, bare, dreary +common, with a strange and unexpected sense of desert freedom. Once, +about sunset, I had a view of immense London, four or five miles off, +with the vast dome in the midst, and the towers of the Houses of +Parliament rising up into the smoky canopy--a glorious and sombre +picture, but irresistibly attractive. + +The frequent trains and steamers to Greenwich have made Blackheath a +playground and breathing-place for Londoners. Passing among these +holiday people, we come to one of the gateways of Greenwich Park; it +admits us from the bare heath into a scene of antique cultivation, +traversed by avenues of trees. On the loftiest of the gentle hills which +diversify the surface of the park is Greenwich Observatory. I used to +regulate my watch by the broad dial-plate against the Observatory wall, +and felt it pleasant to be standing at the very centre of time and +space. + +The English character is by no means a lofty one, and yet an observer +has a sense of natural kindness towards them in the lump. They adhere +closer to original simplicity; they love, quarrel, laugh, cry, and turn +their actual selves inside out with greater freedom than Americans would +consider decorous. It was often so with these holiday folk in Greenwich +Park, and I fancy myself to have caught very satisfactory glimpses of +Arcadian life among the cockneys there. + +After traversing the park, we come into the neighbourhood of Greenwich +Hospital, an establishment which does more honour to the heart of +England than anything else that I am acquainted with. The hospital +stands close to the town, where, on Easter Monday, it was my good +fortune to behold the festivity known as Greenwich Fair. + +I remember little more of it than a confusion of unwashed and shabbily +dressed people, such as we never see in our own country. On our side of +the water every man and woman has a holiday suit. There are few sadder +spectacles than a ragged coat or a soiled gown at a festival. + +The unfragrant crowd was exceedingly dense. There were oyster-stands, +stalls of oranges, and booths with gilt gingerbread and toys for the +children. The mob were quiet, civil, and remarkably good-humoured, +making allowance for the national gruffness; there was no riot. What +immensely perplexed me was a sharp, angry sort of rattle sounding in all +quarters, until I discovered that the noise was produced by a little +instrument called "the fun of the fair," which was drawn smartly against +people's backs. The ladies draw their rattles against the young men's +backs, and the young men return the compliment. There were theatrical +booths, fighting men and jugglers, and in the midst of the confusion +little boys very solicitous to brush your boots. The scene reminded me +of Bunyan's description of Vanity Fair. + +These Englishmen are certainly a franker and simpler people than +ourselves, from peer to peasant; but it may be that they owe those manly +qualities to a coarser grain in their nature, and that, with a fine one +in ours, we shall ultimately acquire a marble polish of which they are +unsusceptible. + +From Greenwich the steamers offer much the most agreeable mode of +getting to London. At least, it might be agreeable except for the soot +from the stove-pipe, the heavy heat of the unsheltered deck, the +spiteful little showers of rain, the inexhaustible throng of passengers, +and the possibility of getting your pocket picked. + +A notable group of objects on the bank of the river is an assemblage of +walls, battlements, and turrets, out of the midst of which rises one +great, greyish, square tower, known in English history as the Tower. +Under the base of the rampart we may catch a glimpse of an arched +water-entrance; it is the Traitor's Gate, through which a multitude of +noble and illustrious personages have entered the Tower on their way to +Heaven. + +Later, we have a glimpse of the holy Abbey; while that grey, ancestral +pile on the opposite side of the river is Lambeth Palace. We have passed +beneath half a dozen bridges in our course, and now we look back upon +the mass of innumerable roofs, out of which rise steeples, towers, +columns, and the great crowning Dome--look back upon that mystery of the +world's proudest city, amid which a man so longs and loves to be, not, +perhaps, because it contains much that is positively admirable and +enjoyable, but because the world has nothing better. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The World's Greatest Books, Vol IX. +by Edited by Arthur Mee and J.A. 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