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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted
+to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)--Great Britain and Ireland II, by Various, Edited
+by Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+
+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 Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)--Great Britain and Ireland II
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+Release Date: June 8, 2007  [eBook #21775]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS,
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. IV (OF X)--GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND II***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joseph R. Hauser, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 21775-h.htm or 21775-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/7/7/21775/21775-h/21775-h.htm)
+      or
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+
+
+
+
+
+THE BEST
+_of the_
+WORLD'S CLASSICS
+
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE
+
+HENRY CABOT LODGE
+Editor-in-Chief
+
+FRANCIS W. HALSEY
+Associate Editor
+
+With an Introduction, Biographical and Explanatory Notes, etc.
+
+In Ten Volumes
+
+Vol. IV
+
+GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: DR. JOHNSON, GOLDSMITH, POPE, and GIBBON]
+
+
+
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+New York and London
+Copyright, 1909, by
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+
+
+
+
+
+The Best of the World's Classics
+
+VOL. IV
+
+GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+1672-1800
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+VOL. IV--GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+
+SIR RICHARD STEELE--(Born in 1672, died in 1729.)
+
+     I     Of Companions and Flatterers
+
+    II     The Story-Teller and His Art.
+           (From _The Guardian_)
+
+   III     Sir Roger and the Widow.
+           (From _The Spectator_)
+
+    IV     The Coverley Family Portraits.
+           (From _The Spectator_)
+
+     V     On Certain Symptoms of Greatness.
+           (From _The Tatler_)
+
+    VI     How to Be Happy tho Married.
+           (From _The Tatler_)
+
+LORD BOLINGBROKE--(Born in 1678, died in 1751.)
+
+     I     Of the Shortness of Human Life
+
+    II     Rules for the Study of History.
+           (One of the "Letters on the Study of History")
+
+ALEXANDER POPE--(Born in 1688, died in 1744.)
+
+     I     An Ancient English Country Seat.
+           (A Letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu)
+
+    II     His Compliments to Lady Mary.
+           (A Letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu)
+
+   III     How to Make an Epic Poem.
+           (From _The Guardian_)
+
+LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU--(Born in 1689, died in 1762.)
+
+     I     On Happiness in the Matrimonial State.
+           (A Letter to Edward Wortley Montagu before she married him)
+
+    II     Inoculation for the Smallpox.
+           (A Letter to Sarah Criswell, written from Adrianople, Turkey)
+
+LORD CHESTERFIELD--(Born in 1694, died in 1773.)
+
+     I     Of Good Manners, Dress and the World.
+           (From the "Letters to His Son")
+
+    II     Of Attentions to Ladies.
+           (From the "Letters to His Son")
+
+HENRY FIELDING--(Born in 1707, died in 1754.)
+
+     I     Tom the Hero Enters the Stage.
+           (From "Tom Jones")
+
+    II     Partridge Sees Garrick at the Play.
+           (From "Tom Jones")
+
+   III     Mr. Adams in a Political Light.
+           (From "Joseph Andrews")
+
+SAMUEL JOHNSON--(Born in 1709, died in 1784.)
+
+     I     On Publishing His "Dictionary."
+           (From the Preface to the "Dictionary")
+
+    II     Pope and Dryden Compared.
+           (From the "Lives of the Poets")
+
+   III     Letter to Chesterfield on the Completion of the "Dictionary."
+           (From Boswell's "Life")
+
+    IV     On the Advantages of Living in a Garret.
+           (From _The Rambler_)
+
+DAVID HUME--(Born in 1711, died in 1776.)
+
+     I     The Character of Queen Elizabeth.
+           (From the "History of England")
+
+    II     The Defeat of the Armada.
+           (From the "History of England")
+
+   III     The First Principles of Government
+
+LAURENCE STERNE--(Born in 1713, died in 1768.)
+
+     I     The Starling in Captivity.
+           (From "The Sentimental Journey")
+
+    II     To Moulines with Maria.
+           (From "The Sentimental Journey")
+
+   III     The Death of LeFevre.
+           (From "Tristram Shandy")
+
+    IV     Passages from the Romance of My Uncle Toby and the Widow.
+           (From "Tristram Shandy")
+
+THOMAS GRAY--(Born in 1716, died in 1771.)
+
+     I     Warwick Castle.
+           (A Letter to Thomas Wharton)
+
+    II     To His Friend Mason on the Death of Mason's Mother
+
+   III     On His Own Writings.
+           (A Letter to Horace Walpole)
+
+    IV     His Friendship for Bonstetten.
+           (From a Letter to Bonstetten)
+
+HORACE WALPOLE--(Born in 1717, died in 1797.)
+
+     I     Hogarth.
+           (From the "Anecdotes of Painting in England")
+
+    II     The War in America.
+           (From a Letter written at Strawberry Hill)
+
+   III     The Death of George II.
+           (A Letter to Sir Horace Mann)
+
+GILBERT WHITE--(Born in 1720, died in 1793.)
+
+           The Chimney Swallow.
+           (From "The Natural History of Selborne")
+
+ADAM SMITH--(Born in 1723, died in 1790.)
+
+     I     Of Ambition Misdirected.
+           (From the "Theory of Moral Sentiments")
+
+    II     The Advantages of a Division of Labor.
+           (From "The Wealth of Nations")
+
+SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE--(Born in 1723, died in 1780.)
+
+           Professional Soldiers in Free Countries.
+           (From the "Commentaries")
+
+OLIVER GOLDSMITH--(Born in 1728, died in 1774.)
+
+     I     The Ambitions of the Vicar's Family.
+           (From "The Vicar of Wakefield")
+
+    II     Sagacity in Insects.
+           (From "The Bee")
+
+   III     A Chinaman's View of London.
+           (From the "Citizen of the World")
+
+EDMUND BURKE--(Born in 1729, died in 1797.)
+
+     I     The Principles of Good Taste.
+           (From "The Sublime and Beautiful")
+
+    II     A Letter to a Noble Lord
+
+   III     On the Death of His Son
+
+    IV     Marie Antoinette.
+           (From the "Reflections on the Revolution in France")
+
+WILLIAM COWPER--(Born in 1731, died in 1800.)
+
+     I     Of Keeping One's Self Employed.
+           (A Letter to John Newton)
+
+    II     Of Johnson's Treatment of Milton.
+           (Letter to the Rev. William Unwin)
+
+   III     On the Publication of His Books.
+           (Letter to the Rev. William Unwin)
+
+EDWARD GIBBON--(Born in 1737, died in 1794.)
+
+     I     The Romance of His Youth.
+           (From the "Memoirs")
+
+    II     The Inception and Completion of the "Decline and Fall."
+           (From the "Memoirs")
+
+   III     The Fall of Zenobia.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+    IV     Alaric's Entry into Rome.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+     V     The Death of Hosein.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+    VI     The Causes of the Destruction of the City of Rome.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+
+
+
+
+GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+1672-1800
+
+
+
+
+SIR RICHARD STEELE
+
+     Born in Ireland in 1672; died in Wales in 1729; companion of
+     Addison at Oxford; served in the army in 1694, becoming a
+     captain; elected to Parliament, but expelled for using
+     seditious language; knighted under George I; quarreled with
+     Addison in 1719; founded the Tatler, and next to Addison,
+     was the chief writer for the Spectator.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF COMPANIONS AND FLATTERERS
+
+
+An old acquaintance who met me this morning seemed overjoyed to see
+me, and told me I looked as well as he had known me do these forty
+years; but, continued he, not quite the man you were when we visited
+together at Lady Brightly's. Oh! Isaac, those days are over. Do you
+think there are any such fine creatures now living as we then
+conversed with? He went on with a thousand incoherent circumstances,
+which, in his imagination, must needs please me; but they had the
+quite contrary effect. The flattery with which he began, in telling me
+how well I wore, was not disagreeable; but his indiscreet mention of a
+set of acquaintance we had outlived, recalled ten thousand things to
+my memory, which made me reflect upon my present condition with
+regret. Had he indeed been so kind as, after a long absence, to
+felicitate me upon an indolent and easy old age, and mentioned how
+much he and I had to thank for, who at our time of day could walk
+firmly, eat heartily and converse cheerfully, he had kept up my
+pleasure in myself. But of all mankind, there are none so shocking as
+these injudicious civil people. They ordinarily begin upon something
+that they know must be a satisfaction; but then, for fear of the
+imputation of flattery, they follow it with the last thing in the
+world of which you would be reminded. It is this that perplexes civil
+persons. The reason that there is such a general outcry among us
+against flatterers is that there are so very few good ones. It is the
+nicest art in this life, and is a part of eloquence which does not
+want the preparation that is necessary to all other parts of it, that
+your audience should be your well-wishers; for praise from an enemy is
+the most pleasing of all commendations.
+
+It is generally to be observed, that the person most agreeable to a
+man for a constancy, is he that has no shining qualities, but is a
+certain degree above great imperfections, whom he can live with as his
+inferior, and who will either overlook or not observe his little
+defects. Such an easy companion as this, either now and then throws
+out a little flattery, or lets a man silently flatter himself in his
+superiority to him. If you take notice, there is hardly a rich man in
+the world who has not such a led friend of small consideration, who is
+a darling for his insignificancy. It is a great ease to have one in
+our own shape a species below us, and who, without being listed in our
+service, is by nature of our retinue. These dependents are of
+excellent use on a rainy day, or when a man has not a mind to dress;
+or to exclude solitude, when one has neither a mind to that nor to
+company. There are of this good-natured order who are so kind to
+divide themselves, and do these good offices to many. Five or six of
+them visit a whole quarter of the town, and exclude the spleen,
+without fees, from the families they frequent. If they do not
+prescribe physic, they can be company when you take it.
+
+Very great benefactors to the rich, or those whom they call people at
+their ease, are your persons of no consequence. I have known some of
+them, by the help of a little cunning, make delicious flatterers. They
+know the course of the town, and the general characters of persons; by
+this means they will sometimes tell the most agreeable falsehoods
+imaginable. They will acquaint you that such one of a quite contrary
+party said, that tho you were engaged in different interests, yet he
+had the greatest respect for your good sense and address. When one of
+these has a little cunning, he passes his time in the utmost
+satisfaction to himself and his friends; for his position is never to
+report or speak a displeasing thing to his friend. As for letting him
+go on in an error, he knows advice against them is the office of
+persons of greater talents and less discretion.
+
+The Latin word for a flatterer (_assentator_) implies no more than a
+person that barely consents; and indeed such a one, if a man were able
+to purchase or maintain him, can not be bought too dear. Such a one
+never contradicts you, but gains upon you, not by a fulsome way of
+commending you in broad terms, but liking whatever you propose or
+utter; at the same time is ready to beg your pardon, and gainsay you
+if you chance to speak ill of yourself. An old lady is very seldom
+without such a companion as this, who can recite the names of all her
+lovers, and the matches refused by her in the days when she minded
+such vanities--as she is pleased to call them, tho she so much
+approves the mention of them. It is to be noted, that a woman's
+flatterer is generally elder than herself, her years serving to
+recommend her patroness's age, and to add weight to her complaisance
+in all other particulars.
+
+We gentlemen of small fortunes are extremely necessitous in this
+particular. I have indeed one who smokes with me often; but his parts
+are so low, that all the incense he does me is to fill his pipe with
+me, and to be out at just as many whiffs as I take. This is all the
+praise or assent that he is capable of, yet there are more hours when
+I would rather be in his company than that of the brightest man I
+know. It would be a hard matter to give an account of this inclination
+to be flattered; but if we go to the bottom of it, we shall find that
+the pleasure in it is something like that of receiving money which lay
+out. Every man thinks he has an estate of reputation, and is glad to
+see one that will bring any of it home to him; it is no matter how
+dirty a bag it is conveyed to him in, or by how clownish a messenger,
+so the money is good. All that we want to be pleased with flattery, is
+to believe that the man is sincere who gives it us. It is by this one
+accident that absurd creatures often outrun the most skilful in this
+art. Their want of ability is here an advantage, and their bluntness,
+as it is the seeming effect of sincerity, is the best cover to
+artifice.
+
+It is indeed, the greatest of injuries to flatter any but the unhappy,
+or such as are displeased with themselves for some infirmity. In this
+latter case we have a member of our club, that, when Sir Jeffrey falls
+asleep, wakens him with snoring. This makes Sir Jeffrey hold up for
+some moments the longer, to see there are men younger than himself
+among us, who are more lethargic than he is.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE STORY-TELLER AND HIS ART[1]
+
+
+I have often thought that a story-teller is born, as well as a poet.
+It is, I think, certain, that some men have such a peculiar cast of
+mind, that they see things in another light than men of grave
+dispositions. Men of a lively imagination and a mirthful temper will
+represent things to their hearers in the same manner as they
+themselves were affected with them; and whereas serious spirits might
+perhaps have been disgusted at the sight of some odd occurences in
+life, yet the very same occurrences shall please them in a well-told
+story, where the disagreeable parts of the images are concealed, and
+those only which are pleasing exhibited to the fancy. Story-telling is
+therefore not an art, but what we call a "knack"; it doth not so much
+subsist upon wit as upon humor; and I will add, that it is not perfect
+without proper gesticulations of the body, which naturally attend
+such merry emotions of the mind. I know very well that a certain
+gravity of countenance sets some stories off to advantage, where the
+hearer is to be surprized in the end. But this is by no means a
+general rule; for it is frequently convenient to aid and assist by
+cheerful looks and whimsical agitations.
+
+I will go yet further, and affirm that the success of a story very
+often depends upon the make of the body, and the formation of the
+features, of him who relates it. I have been of this opinion ever
+since I criticized upon the chin of Dick Dewlap. I very often had the
+weakness to repine at the prosperity of his conceits, which made him
+pass for a wit with the widow at the coffee-house and the ordinary
+mechanics that frequent it; nor could I myself forbear laughing at
+them most heartily, tho upon examination I thought most of them very
+flat and insipid. I found, after some time, that the merit of his wit
+was founded upon the shaking of a fat paunch, and the tossing up of a
+pair of rosy jowls. Poor Dick had a fit of sickness, which robbed him
+of his fat and his fame at once; and it was full three months before
+he regained his reputation, which rose in proportion to his floridity.
+He is now very jolly and ingenious, and hath a good constitution for
+wit.
+
+Those who are thus adorned with the gifts of nature, are apt to show
+their parts with too much ostentation. I would therefore advise all
+the professors of this art never to tell stories but as they seem to
+grow out of the subject-matter of the conversation, or as they serve
+to illustrate or enliven it. Stories that are very common are
+generally irksome; but may be aptly introduced, provided they be only
+hinted at, and mentioned by way of allusion. Those that are altogether
+new, should never be ushered in without a short and pertinent
+character of the chief persons concerned, because, by that means, you
+may make the company acquainted with them; and it is a certain rule,
+that slight and trivial accounts of those who are familiar to us,
+administer more mirth than the brightest points of wit in unknown
+characters.
+
+A little circumstance in the complexion of dress of the man you are
+talking of, sets his image before the hearer, if it be chosen aptly
+for the story. Thus, I remember Tom Lizard, after having made his
+sisters merry with an account of a formal old man's way of
+complimenting, owned very frankly that his story would not have been
+worth one farthing, if he had made the hat of him whom he represented
+one inch narrower. Besides the marking distinct characters, and
+selecting pertinent circumstances, it is likewise necessary to leave
+off in time, and end smartly; so that there is a kind of drama in the
+forming of a story; and the manner of conducting and pointing it is
+the same as in an epigram. It is a miserable thing, after one hath
+raised the expectation of the company by humorous characters and a
+pretty conceit, to pursue the matter too far. There is no retreating;
+and how poor is it for a story-teller to end his relation by saying,
+"that's all!"
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+SIR ROGER AND THE WIDOW[2]
+
+
+In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my
+time, it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which
+my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than
+a disappointment in love. It happened this evening that we fell into a
+very pleasing walk at a distance from his house. As soon as we came
+into it. "It is," quoth the good old man, looking round him with a
+smile, "very hard that any part of my land should be settled upon one
+who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I
+could not see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I
+should reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest
+hand of any woman in the world. You are to know, this was the place
+wherein I used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come
+into it, but the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had
+actually walked with that beautiful creature under these shades. I
+have been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several of
+these trees; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt
+the removing of their passion by the methods which serve only to
+imprint it deeper. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in
+the world."
+
+Here followed a profound silence; and I was not displeased to observe
+my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever
+before taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause,
+he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life,
+with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had
+ever had before; and gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his
+before it received that stroke which has ever since affected his words
+and actions. But he went on as follows:
+
+"I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow
+the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this
+spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good
+neighborhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country sports and
+recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was
+obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my servants,
+officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man
+(who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public
+occasion of showing my figure and behavior to advantage. You may
+easily imagine to yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall,
+rode well, and was very well drest, at the head of a whole county,
+with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted. I
+can assure you, I was not a little pleased with the kind looks and
+glances I had from all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall
+where the assizes were held.
+
+"But when I came there, a beautiful creature, in a widow's habit, sat
+in court to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This
+commanding creature (who was born for the destruction of all who
+behold her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the
+whispers of all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I
+warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, until
+she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she
+encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her
+bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it but I bowed like a great
+surprized booby; and knowing her cause was to be the first which came
+on, I cried, like a great captivated calf as I was, 'Make way for the
+defendant's witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county
+immediately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow.
+During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I
+warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took
+opportunities to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would
+be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting
+before so much company, that not only I, but the whole court, was
+prejudiced in her favor; and all that the next heir to her husband had
+to urge was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when it came to
+her counsel to reply, there was not half so much said as every one
+besides in the court thought he could have urged to her advantage.
+
+"You must understand, sir, this perverse woman is one of those
+unaccountable creatures that secretly rejoice in the admiration of
+men, but indulge themselves in no further consequences. Hence it is
+that she has ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her
+slaves in town to those in the country, according to the seasons of
+the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures of
+friendship. She is always accompanied by a confidant, who is witness
+to her daily protestations against our sex, and consequently a bar to
+her first steps toward love upon the strength of her own maxims and
+declarations.
+
+"However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress of mine has
+distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir
+Roger de Coverley was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes in
+the country. I was told she said so by one who thought he rallied me;
+but upon the strength of this slender encouragement of being thought
+least detestable, I made new liveries, new paired my coach horses,
+sent them all to town to be bitted, and taught to throw their legs
+well, and move all together before I pretended to cross the country,
+and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the
+character of my fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make my
+addresses. The particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame
+your wishes, and yet command respect. To make her mistress of this
+art, she has a greater share of knowledge, wit, and good sense, than
+is usual even among men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the
+race of women. If you will not let her go on with a certain artifice
+with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm herself with her
+real charms, and strike you with admiration instead of desire. It is
+certain that if you were to behold the whole woman, there is that
+dignity in her aspect, that composure in her motion, that complacency
+in her manner, that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes you
+fear. But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no country
+gentleman can approach her without being a jest.
+
+"As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house, I was admitted
+to her presence with great civility; at the same time she placed
+herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude as I think you call
+the posture of a picture, that she discovered new charms, and I at
+last came toward her with such an awe as made me speechless. This she
+no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a
+discourse to me concerning love and honor, as they both are followed
+by pretenders, and the real votaries to them. When she discust these
+points in a discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as the
+best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, she asked me whether
+she was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these important
+particulars. Her confidant sat by her, and upon my being in the last
+confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers, turning to her,
+says, 'I am very glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon this subject,
+and seems resolved to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when
+he pleases to speak.'
+
+"They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour
+meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and
+took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in her
+way, and she as often directed a discourse to me which I do not
+understand.
+
+"This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most
+beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with
+all mankind, and you must make love to her, as you would conquer the
+sphinx, by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there
+were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man
+be, who could converse with a creature--but, after all, you may be
+sure her heart is fixt on some one or other; and yet I have been
+credibly informed; but who can believe half that is said! After she
+had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom, and adjusted
+her tucker. Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding
+her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently; her voice in her
+ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know
+I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and
+she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the
+country. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world.
+I can assure you, sir, were you to behold her, you would be in the
+same condition; for as her speech is music, her form is angelic. But I
+find I grow irregular while I am talking of her; but, indeed, it would
+be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh, the excellent
+creature! she is as inimitable to all women as she is inaccessible to
+all men."
+
+I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him toward the
+house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced
+that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which
+appears in some parts of my friend's discourse; tho he has so much
+command of himself as not directly to mention her.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE COVERLEY FAMILY PORTRAITS[3]
+
+
+I was this morning walking in the gallery, when Sir Roger entered at
+the end opposite to me, and, advancing toward me, said he was glad to
+meet me among his relations the de Coverleys, and hoped I liked the
+conversation of so much good company who were as silent as myself. I
+knew he alluded to the pictures, and as he is a gentleman who does not
+a little value himself upon his ancient descent, I expected he would
+give me some account of them. We were now arrived at the upper end of
+the gallery, when the knight faced toward one of the pictures, and as
+we stood before it, he entered into the matter, after his blunt way of
+saying things, as they occur to his imagination, without regular
+introduction, or care to preserve the appearance of chain of thought.
+
+"It is," said he, "worth while to consider the force of dress; and how
+the persons of one age differ from those of another, merely by that
+only. One may observe also, that the general fashion of one age has
+been followed by one particular set of people in another, and by them
+preserved from one generation to another. Thus the vast jutting coat
+and small bonnet, which was the habit in Henry the Seventh's time, is
+kept on in the yeomen of the guard; not without a good and politic
+view, because they look a foot taller, and a foot and a half broader;
+besides, that the cap leaves the face expanded, and consequently more
+terrible, and fitter to stand at the entrance of palaces.
+
+"This predecessor of ours, you see, is drest after this manner, and
+his cheeks would be no larger than mine, were he in a hat as I am. He
+was the last man that won a prize in the Tilt-yard (which is now a
+common street before Whitehall). You see the broken lance that lies
+there by his right foot. He shivered that lance of his adversary all
+to pieces; and bearing himself, look you, sir, in this manner, at the
+same time he came within the target of the gentleman who rode against
+him, and taking him with incredible force before him on the pommel of
+his saddle, he in that manner rode the tournament over, with an air
+that showed he did it rather to perform the rule of the lists than
+expose his enemy; however, it appeared he knew how to make use of a
+victory, and with a gentle trot he marched up to a gallery, where
+their mistress sat (for they were rivals), and let him down with
+laudable courtesy and pardonable insolence. I do not know but it might
+be exactly where the coffee-house is now.
+
+"You are to know this my ancestor was not only a military genius, but
+fit also for the arts of peace, for he played on the bass viol as well
+as any gentleman at court; you see where his viol hangs by his
+basket-hilt sword. The action at the Tilt-yard you may be sure won the
+fair lady, who was a maid of honor, and the greatest beauty of her
+time; here she stands the next picture. You see, sir, my
+great-great-great-grandmother has on the new-fashioned petticoat,
+except that the modern is gathered at the waist. My grandmother
+appears as if she stood in a large drum, whereas, the ladies now walk
+as if they were in a go-cart. For all this lady was bred at court, she
+became an excellent country wife, she brought ten children, and when I
+show you the library, you shall see in her own hand (allowing for the
+difference of the language) the best receipt now in English both for a
+hasty pudding and a white-pot.
+
+"If you please to fall back a little, because it is necessary to look
+at the three next pictures at one view; these are three sisters. She
+on the right hand, who is so very beautiful, died a maid; the next to
+her, still handsomer, had the same fate, against her will; this homely
+thing in the middle had both their portions added to her own, and was
+stolen by a neighboring gentleman, a man of stratagem and resolution,
+for he poisoned three mastiffs to come at her, and knocked down two
+deer-stealers in carrying her off. Misfortunes happen in all families.
+The theft of this romp, and so much money, was no great matter to our
+estate. But the next heir that possess it was this soft gentleman whom
+you see there. Observe the small buttons, the little boots, the laces,
+the slashes about his clothes, and, above all, the posture he is drawn
+in (which, to be sure, was his own choosing), you see he sits with one
+hand on a desk writing and looking, as it were, another way, like an
+easy writer, or a sonneteer. He was one of those that had too much wit
+to know how to live in the world; he was a man of no justice, but
+great good manners; he ruined everybody that had anything to do with
+him, but never said a rude thing in his life; the most indolent person
+in the world; he would sign a deed that passed away half his estate
+with his gloves on, but would not put on his hat before a lady if it
+were to save his country. He is said to be the first that made love by
+squeezing the hand. He left the estate with ten thousand pounds debt
+upon it; but, however, by all hands I have been informed that he was
+every way the finest gentleman in the world. That debt lay heavy on
+our house for one generation, but it was retrieved by a gift from that
+honest man you see there, a citizen of our name, but nothing at all
+akin to us. I know Sir Andrew Freeport has said behind my back that
+this man was descended from one of the ten children of the maid of
+honor I showed you above; but it was never made out. We winked at the
+thing, indeed, because money was wanting at that time."
+
+Here I saw my friend a little embarrassed, and turned my face to the
+next portraiture. Sir Roger went on with his account of the gallery in
+the following manner:
+
+"This man [pointing to him I looked at] I take to be the honor of our
+house. Sir Humphrey de Coverley; he was in his dealings as punctual as
+a tradesman, and as generous as a gentleman. He would have thought
+himself as much undone by breaking his word, as if it were to be
+followed by bankruptcy. He served his country as a knight of the shire
+to his dying day. He found it no easy matter to maintain an integrity
+in his words and actions, even in things that regarded the offices
+which were incumbent upon him, in the care of his own affairs and
+relations of life, and therefore dreaded (tho he had great talents) to
+go into employments of state, where he must be exposed to the snares
+of ambition. Innocence of life and great ability were the
+distinguishing parts of his character; the latter, he had often
+observed, had led to the destruction of the former, and he used
+frequently to lament that great and good had not the same
+signification. He was an excellent husbandman, but had resolved not to
+exceed such a degree of wealth; all above it he bestowed in secret
+bounties many years after the sum he aimed at for his own use was
+attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, but to a decent old age
+spent the life and fortune which was superfluous to himself, in the
+service of his friends and neighbors."
+
+Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Roger ended the discourse of
+this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the servant, that this
+his ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly escaped being killed in the
+civil wars. "For," said he, "he was sent out of the field upon a
+private message the day before the battle of Worcester." The whim of
+narrowly escaping by having been within a day of danger, with other
+matters above mentioned, mixed with good sense, left me at a loss
+whether I was more delighted with my friend's wisdom or simplicity.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+ON CERTAIN SYMPTOMS OF GREATNESS[4]
+
+
+There is no affection of the mind so much blended in human nature, and
+wrought into our very constitution, as pride. It appears under a
+multitude of disguises, and breaks out in ten thousand different
+symptoms. Every one feels it in himself, and yet wonders to see it in
+his neighbor. I must confess, I met with an instance of it the other
+day where I should very little have expected it. Who would believe the
+proud person I am going to speak of is a cobbler upon Ludgate hill?
+This artist being naturally a lover of respect, and considering that
+his circumstances are such that no man living will give it him, has
+contrived the figure of a beau, in wood; who stands before him in a
+bending posture, with his hat under his left arm, and his right hand
+extended in such a manner as to hold a thread, a piece of wax, or an
+awl, according to the particular service in which his master thinks
+fit to employ him. When I saw him, he held a candle in this obsequious
+posture. I was very well pleased with the cobbler's invention, that
+had so ingeniously contrived an inferior, and stood a little while
+contemplating this inverted idolatry, wherein the image did homage to
+the man. When we meet with such a fantastic vanity in one of this
+order, it is no wonder if we may trace it through all degrees above
+it, and particularly through all the steps of greatness.
+
+We easily see the absurdity of pride when it enters into the heart of
+a cobbler; tho in reality it is altogether as ridiculous and
+unreasonable, wherever it takes possession of a human creature. There
+is no temptation to it from the reflection upon our being in general,
+or upon any comparative perfection, whereby one man may excel another.
+The greater a man's knowledge is, the greater motive he may seem to
+have for pride; but in the same proportion as the one rises the other
+sinks, it being the chief office of wisdom to discover to us our
+weaknesses and imperfections.
+
+As folly is the foundation of pride, the natural superstructure of it
+is madness. If there was an occasion for the experiment, I would not
+question to make a proud man a lunatic in three weeks' time, provided
+I had it in my power to ripen his frenzy with proper applications. It
+is an admirable reflection in Terence, where it is said of a parasite,
+"_Hic homines ex stultis facit insanos._" "This fellow," says he, "has
+an art of converting fools into madmen." When I was in France, the
+region of complaisance and vanity, I have often observed that a great
+man who has entered a levee of flatterers humble and temperate has
+grown so insensibly heated by the court which was paid him on all
+sides, that he has been quite distracted before he could get into his
+coach.
+
+If we consult the collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find most of
+them are beholden to their pride for their introduction into that
+magnificent palace. I had, some years ago, the curiosity to inquire
+into the particular circumstances of these whimsical freeholders; and
+learned from their own mouths the condition and character of each of
+them. Indeed, I found that all I spoke to were persons of quality.
+There were at that time five duchesses, three earls, two heathen gods,
+an emperor, and a prophet. There were also a great number of such as
+were locked up from their estates, and others who concealed their
+titles. A leather-seller of Taunton whispered me in the ear that he
+was the "Duke of Monmouth," but begged me not to betray him. At a
+little distance from him sat a tailor's wife, who asked me, as I went,
+if I had seen the sword-bearer, upon which I presumed to ask her who
+she was, and was answered, "My lady mayoress."
+
+I was very sensibly touched with compassion toward these miserable
+people; and, indeed, extremely mortified to see human nature capable
+of being thus disfigured. However, I reaped this benefit from it, that
+I was resolved to guard myself against a passion which makes such
+havoc in the brain, and produces so much disorder in the imagination.
+For this reason I have endeavored to keep down the secret swellings of
+resentment, and stifle the very first suggestions of self-esteem; to
+establish my mind in tranquillity, and over-value nothing in my own or
+in another's possession.
+
+For the benefit of such whose heads are a little turned, tho not to so
+great a degree as to qualify them for the place of which I have been
+now speaking, I shall assign one of the sides of the college which I
+am erecting, for the cure of this dangerous distemper.
+
+The most remarkable of the persons, whose disturbance arises from
+pride, and whom I shall use all possible diligence to cure, are such
+as are hidden in the appearance of quite contrary habits and
+dispositions. Among such, I shall, in the first place, take care of
+one who is under the most subtle species of pride that I have observed
+in my whole experience.
+
+The patient is a person for whom I have a great respect, as being an
+old courtier, and a friend of mine in my youth. The man has but a bare
+subsistence, just enough to pay his reckoning with us at the Trumpet;
+but, by having spent the beginning of his life is the hearing of great
+men and persons of power, he is always promising to do good offices to
+introduce every man he converses with into the world; will desire one
+of ten times his substance to let him see him sometimes, and hints to
+him that he does not forget him. He answers to matters of no
+consequence with great circumspection; but, however, maintains a
+general civility in his words and actions, and an insolent benevolence
+to all whom he has to do with. This he practises with a grave tone and
+air; and tho I am his senior by twelve years, and richer by forty
+pounds per annum, he had yesterday the impudence to commend me to my
+face, and tell me, "he should be always ready to encourage me." In a
+word, he is a very insignificant fellow, but exceeding gracious. The
+best return I can make him for his favors is to carry him myself to
+Bedlam and see him well taken care of.
+
+The next person I shall provide for is of a quite contrary character,
+that has in him all the stiffness and insolence of quality, without a
+grain of sense or good-nature, to make it either respected or
+beloved. His pride has infected every muscle of his face; and yet,
+after all his endeavors to show mankind that he contemns them, he is
+only neglected by all that see him, as not of consequence enough to be
+hated.
+
+For the cure of this particular sort of madness, it will be necessary
+to break through all forms with him, and familiarize his carriage by
+the use of a good cudgel. It may likewise be of great benefit to make
+him jump over a stick half a dozen times every morning.
+
+A third, whom I have in my eye, is a young fellow, whose lunacy is
+such that he boasts of nothing but what he ought to be ashamed of. He
+is vain of being rotten, and talks publicly of having committed crimes
+which he ought to be hanged for by the laws of his country.
+
+There are several others whose brains are hurt with pride, and whom I
+may hereafter attempt to recover; but shall conclude my present list
+with an old woman, who is just dropping into her grave, that talks of
+nothing but her birth. Tho she has not a tooth in her head, she
+expects to be valued for the blood in her veins, which she fancies is
+much better than that which glows in the cheeks of Belinda, and sets
+half the town on fire.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+HOW TO BE HAPPY THO MARRIED[5]
+
+
+My brother Tranquillus being gone out of town for some days, my sister
+Jenny sent me word she would come and dine with me, and therefore
+desired me to have no other company, I took care accordingly, and was
+not a little pleased to see her enter the room with a decent and
+matron-like behavior, which I thought very much became her. I saw she
+had a great deal to say to me, and easily discovered in her eyes, and
+the air of her countenance, that she had abundance of satisfaction in
+her heart, which she longed to communicate. However, I was resolved to
+let her break into her discourse her own way, and reduced her to a
+thousand little devices and intimations to bring me to the mention of
+her husband. But finding I was resolved not to name him, she began of
+her own accord. "My husband," said she, "gives his humble service to
+you," to which I only answered, "I hope he is well"; and, without
+waiting for a reply, fell into other subjects.
+
+She at last was out of all patience, and said, with a smile and manner
+that I thought had more beauty and spirit than I had ever observed
+before in her, "I did not think, brother, you had been so ill-natured.
+You have seen, ever since I came in, that I had a mind to talk of my
+husband, and you will not be so kind as to give me an occasion."
+
+"I did not know," said I, "but it might be a disagreeable subject to
+you. You do not take me for so old-fashioned a fellow as to think of
+entertaining a young lady with the discourse of her husband. I know
+nothing is more acceptable than to speak of one who is to be so, but
+to speak of one who is so! indeed, Jenny, I am a better-bred man than
+you think me."
+
+She showed a little dislike at my raillery; and, by her bridling up, I
+perceived she expected to be treated hereafter not as Jenny Distaff,
+but Mrs. Tranquillus. I was very well pleased with this change in her
+humor; and, upon talking with her on several subjects, I could not but
+fancy I saw a great deal of her husband's way and manner in her
+remarks, her phrases, the tone of her voice, and the very air of her
+countenance. This gave me an unspeakable satisfaction, not only
+because I had found her a husband, from whom she could learn many
+things that were laudable, but also because I looked upon her
+imitation of him as an infallible sign that she entirely loved him.
+This is an observation that I never knew fail, tho I do not remember
+that any other has made it. The natural shyness of her sex hindered
+her from telling me the greatness of her own passion; but I easily
+collected it from the representation she gave me of his.
+
+"I have everything," says she, "in Tranquillus, that I can wish for;
+and enjoy in him, what, indeed, you have told me were to be met with
+in a good husband, the fondness of a lover, the tenderness of a
+parent, and the intimacy of a friend."
+
+It transported me to see her eyes swimming in tears of affection when
+she spoke. "And is there not, dear sister," said I, "more pleasure in
+the possession of such a man than in all the little impertinencies of
+balls, assemblies, and equipage, which it cost me so much pains to
+make you contemn?"
+
+She answered, smiling, "Tranquillus has made me a sincere convert in a
+few weeks, tho I am afraid you could not have done it in your whole
+life. To tell you truly, I have only one fear hanging upon me, which
+is apt to give me trouble in the midst of all my satisfactions: I am
+afraid, you must know, that I shall not always make the same amiable
+appearance in his eye that I do at present. You know, brother
+Bickerstaff, that you have the reputation of a conjurer; and, if you
+have any one secret in your art to make your sister always beautiful,
+I should be happier than if I were mistress of all the worlds you have
+shown me in a starry night."
+
+"Jenny," said I, "without having recourse to magic, I shall give you
+one plain rule that will not fail of making you always amiable to a
+man who has so great a passion for you, and is of so equal and
+reasonable a temper as Tranquillus. Endeavor to please, and you must
+please; be always in the same disposition, as you are when you ask for
+this secret, and you may take my word, you will never want it. An
+inviolable fidelity, good humor, and complacency of temper outlive all
+the charms of a fine face, and make the decays of it invisible."
+
+We discoursed very long upon this head, which was equally agreeable to
+us both; for, I must confess, as I tenderly love her, I take as much
+pleasure in giving her instructions for her welfare, as she herself
+does in receiving them. I proceeded, therefore, to inculcate these
+sentiments by relating a very particular passage that happened within
+my own knowledge.
+
+There were several of us making merry at a friend's house in a country
+village, when the sexton of the parish church entered the room in a
+sort of surprize, and told us, "that as he was digging a grave in the
+chancel, a little blow of his pickax opened a decayed coffin, in which
+there were several written papers." Our curiosity was immediately
+raised, so that we went to the place where the sexton had been at
+work, and found a great concourse of people about the grave. Among the
+rest there was an old woman, who told us the person buried there was a
+lady whose name I do not think fit to mention, tho there is nothing in
+the story but what tends very much to her honor. This lady lived
+several years an exemplary pattern of conjugal love, and, dying soon
+after her husband, who every way answered her character in virtue and
+affection, made it her death-bed request, "that all the letters which
+she had received from him, both before and after her marriage, should
+be buried in the coffin with her." These, I found upon examination,
+were the papers before us. Several of them had suffered so much by
+time that I could only pick out a few words; as my soul! lilies!
+roses! dearest angel! and the like. One of them, which was legible
+throughout, ran thus:
+
+_Madam_:--
+
+If you would know the greatness of my love, consider that of your own
+beauty. That blooming countenance, that snowy bosom, that graceful
+person, return every moment to my imagination; the brightness of your
+eyes hath hindered me from closing mine since I last saw you. You may
+still add to your beauties by a smile. A frown will make me the most
+wretched of men, as I am the most passionate of lovers.
+
+It filled the whole company with a deep melancholy, to compare the
+description of the letter with the person that occasioned it, who was
+now reduced to a few crumbling bones, and a little moldering heap of
+earth. With much ado I deciphered another letter which began with, "My
+dear, dear wife." This gave me a curiosity to see how the style of one
+written in marriage differed from one written in courtship. To my
+surprize, I found the fondness rather augmented than lessened, tho the
+panegyric turned upon a different accomplishment. The words were as
+follows:
+
+Before this short absence from you, I did not know that I loved you so
+much as I really do; tho, at the same time, I thought I loved you as
+much as possible. I am under great apprehension lest you should have
+any uneasiness whilst I am defrauded of my share in it, and can not
+think of tasting any pleasures that you do not partake with me. Pray,
+my dear, be careful of your health, if for no other reason but because
+you know I could not outlive you. It is natural in absence to make
+professions of an inviolable constancy; but toward so much merit it
+is scarce a virtue, especially when it is but a bare return to that of
+which you have given me such continued proofs ever since our first
+acquaintance. I am, etc.
+
+It happened that the daughter of these two excellent persons was by
+when I was reading this letter. At the sight of the coffin, in which
+was the body of her mother, near that of her father, she melted into a
+flood of tears. As I had heard a great character of her virtue, and
+observed in her this instance of filial piety, I could not resist my
+natural inclination, of giving advice to young people, and therefore
+addrest myself to her. "Young lady," said I, "you see how short is the
+possession of that beauty, in which nature has been so liberal to you.
+You find the melancholy sight before you is a contradiction to the
+first letter that you heard on that subject; whereas, you may observe
+the second letter, which celebrates your mother's constancy, is
+itself, being found in this place, an argument of it. But, madam, I
+ought to caution you not to think the bodies that lie before you your
+father and your mother. Know their constancy is rewarded by a nobler
+union than by this mingling of their ashes, in a state where there is
+no danger or possibility of a second separation."
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 1: From the Guardian.]
+
+[Footnote 2: From the Spectator.]
+
+[Footnote 3: From the Spectator.]
+
+[Footnote 4: From the Tatler.]
+
+[Footnote 5: From the Tatler.]
+
+
+
+
+LORD BOLINGBROKE
+
+     Born in 1678, died in 1751; his name, before he was a peer,
+     Henry St. John; entered Parliament in 1701, acting with the
+     Tories; Secretary of War in 1704-08; Secretary of State in
+     1710-14; created Viscount Bolingbroke in 1714; opposed the
+     accession of the House of Hanover, and on the death of Queen
+     Anne in 1714, fled to France, entering the service of the
+     Pretender, by whom he was soon dismissed and then returned
+     to England; a friend of Pope and Swift, Pope's "Essay on
+     Man" being addrest to him.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF THE SHORTNESS OF HUMAN LIFE
+
+
+I think very differently from most men of the time we have to pass,
+and the business we have to do, in this world. I think we have more of
+one, and less of the other, than is commonly supposed. Our want of
+time, and the shortness of human life, are some of the principal
+commonplace complaints which we prefer against the established order
+of things; they are the grumblings of the vulgar, and the pathetic
+lamentations of the philosopher; but they are impertinent and impious
+in both. The man of business despises the man of pleasure for
+squandering his time away; the man of pleasure pities or laughs at the
+man of business for the same thing; and yet both concur superciliously
+and absurdly to find fault with the Supreme Being for having given
+them so little time. The philosopher, who misspends it very often as
+much as the others, joins in the same cry, and authorizes this
+impiety. Theophrastus thought it extremely hard to die at ninety, and
+to go out of the world when he had just learned how to live in it. His
+master Aristotle found fault with nature for treating man in this
+respect worse than several other animals; both very unphilosophically!
+and I love Seneca the better for his quarrel with the Stagirite[6] on
+this head.
+
+We see, in so many instances, a just proportion of things, according
+to their several relations to one another, that philosophy should lead
+as to conclude this proportion preserved, even where we can not
+discern it; instead of leading us to conclude that it is not preserved
+where we do not discern it, or where we think that we see the
+contrary. To conclude otherwise is shocking presumption. It is to
+presume that the system of the universe would have been more wisely
+contrived, if creatures of our low rank among intellectual natures had
+been called to the councils of the Most High; or that the Creator
+ought to mend His work by the advice of the creature. That life which
+seems to our self-love so short, when we compare it with the ideas we
+frame of eternity, or even with the duration of some other beings,
+will appear sufficient, upon a less partial view, to all the ends of
+the creation, and of a just proportion in the successive course of
+generations. The term itself is long; we render it short; and the want
+we complain of flows from our profusion, not from our poverty.
+
+Let us leave the men of pleasure and of business, who are often
+candid enough to own that they throw away their time, and thereby to
+confess that they complain of the Supreme Being for no other reason
+than this, that He has not proportioned His bounty to their
+extravagance. Let us consider the scholar and philosopher, who, far
+from owning that he throws any time away, reproves others for doing
+it; that solemn mortal who abstains from the pleasures, and declines
+the business of the world, that he may dedicate his whole time to the
+search of truth and the improvement of knowledge. When such a one
+complains of the shortness of human life in general, or of his
+remaining share in particular, might not a man more reasonable, tho
+less solemn, expostulate thus with him: "Your complaint is indeed
+consistent with your practise; but you would not possibly renew your
+complaint if you reviewed your practise. Tho reading makes a scholar,
+yet every scholar is not a philosopher, nor every philosopher a wise
+man. It cost you twenty years to devour all the volumes on one side of
+your library; you came out a great critic in Latin and Greek, in the
+Oriental tongues, in history and chronology; but you were not
+satisfied. You confest that these were the _literæ nihil sanantes_,
+and you wanted more time to acquire other knowledge. You have had this
+time; you have passed twenty years more on the other side of your
+library, among philosophers, rabbis, commentators, school-men, and
+whole legions of modern doctors. You are extremely well versed in all
+that has been written concerning the nature of God, and of the soul of
+man, about matter and form, body and spirit, and space and eternal
+essences, and incorporeal substances, and the rest of those profound
+speculations. You are a master of the controversies that have arisen
+about nature and grace, about predestination and freewill, and all the
+other abstruse questions that have made so much noise in the schools,
+and done so much hurt in the world. You are going on, as fast as the
+infirmities you have contracted will permit, in the same course of
+study; but you begin to foresee that you shall want time, and you make
+grievous complaints of the shortness of human life. Give me leave now
+to ask you how many thousand years God must prolong your life in order
+to reconcile you to His wisdom and goodness?
+
+"It is plain, at least highly probable, that a life as long as that of
+the most aged of the patriarchs would be too short to answer your
+purposes; since the researches and disputes in which you are engaged
+have been already for a much longer time the objects of learned
+inquiries, and remain still as imperfect and undetermined as they were
+at first. But let me ask you again, and deceive neither yourself nor
+me, have you, in the course of these forty years, once examined the
+first principles and the fundamental facts on which all those
+questions depend, with an absolute indifference of judgment, and with
+a scrupulous exactness? with the same care that you have employed in
+examining the various consequences drawn from them, and the heterodox
+opinions about them? Have you not taken them for granted in the whole
+course of your studies? Or, if you have looked now and then on the
+state of the proofs brought to maintain them, have you not done it as
+a mathematician looks over a demonstration formerly made--to refresh
+his memory, not to satisfy any doubt? If you have thus examined, it
+may appear marvelous to some that you have spent so much time in many
+parts of those studies which have reduced you to this hectic condition
+of so much heat and weakness. But if you have not thus examined, it
+must be evident to all, nay, to yourself on the least cool reflection,
+that you are still, notwithstanding all your learning, in a state of
+ignorance. For knowledge can alone produce knowledge; and without such
+an examination of axioms and facts, you can have none about
+inferences."
+
+In this manner one might expostulate very reasonably with many a great
+scholar, many a profound philosopher, many a dogmatical casuist. And
+it serves to set the complaints about want of time, and the shortness
+of human life, in a very ridiculous but a true light.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+RULES FOR THE STUDY OF HISTORY[7]
+
+
+I have considered formerly, with a good deal of attention, the subject
+on which you command me to communicate my thoughts to you; and I
+practised in those days, as much as business and pleasure allowed me
+time to do, the rules that seemed to me necessary to be observed in
+the study of history. They were very different from those which
+writers on the same subject have recommended, and which are commonly
+practised. But I confess to your lordship that this neither gave me
+then, nor has given me since, any distrust of them. I do not affect
+singularity. On the contrary, I think that a due deference is to be
+paid to received opinions, and that a due compliance with received
+customs is to be held; tho both the one and the other should be, what
+they often are, absurd or ridiculous. But this servitude is outward
+only, and abridges in no sort the liberty of private judgment. The
+obligations of submitting to it likewise, even outwardly, extend no
+further than to those opinions and customs which can not be opposed;
+or from which we can not deviate without doing hurt, or giving
+offense, to society. In all these cases, our speculations ought to be
+free; in all other cases, our practise may be so. Without any regard,
+therefore, to the opinion and practise even of the learned world, I am
+very willing to tell you mine. But as it is hard to recover a thread
+of thought long ago laid aside, and impossible to prove some things
+and explain others, without the assistance of many books which I have
+not here, your lordship must be content with such an imperfect sketch
+as I am able to send you in this letter.
+
+The motives that carry men to the study of history are different. Some
+intend, if such as they may be said to study, nothing more than
+amusement, and read the life of Aristides or Phocion, of Epaminondas
+or Scipio, Alexander or Cæsar, just as they play a game at cards, or
+as they would read the story of the seven champions.
+
+Others there are whose motive to this study is nothing better, and who
+have the further disadvantage of becoming a nuisance very often to
+society, in proportion to the progress they make. The former do not
+improve their reading to any good purpose; the latter pervert it to a
+very bad one, and grow in impertinence as they increase in learning. I
+think I have known most of the first kind in England, and most of the
+last in France. The persons I mean are those who read to talk, to
+shine in conversation, and to impose in company; who, having few ideas
+to vend of their own growth, store their minds with crude unruminated
+facts and sentences, and hope to supply by bare memory the want of
+imagination and judgment.
+
+But these are in the two lowest forms. The next I shall mention are in
+one a little higher; in the form of those who grow neither wiser nor
+better by study themselves, but who enable others to study with
+greater ease, and to purposes more useful; who make fair copies of
+foul manuscripts, give the signification of hard words, and take a
+great deal of other grammatical pains. The obligation to these men
+would be great indeed, if they were in general able to do anything
+better, and submitted to this drudgery for the sake of the public; as
+some of them, it must be owned with gratitude, have done, but not
+later, I think, than about the time of the resurrection of letters.
+When works of importance are pressing, generals themselves may take
+up the pickax and the spade; but in the ordinary course of things,
+when that pressing necessity is over, such tools are left in the hands
+destined to use them, the hands of common soldiers and peasants. I
+approve, therefore, very much the devotion of a studious man at Christ
+Church, who was overheard in his oratory entering into a detail with
+God, acknowledging the divine goodness in furnishing the world with
+makers of dictionaries! These men court fame, as well as their
+letters, by such means as God has given them to acquire it; and
+Littleton exerted all the genius he had when he made a dictionary, tho
+Stephens did not. They deserve encouragement, however, while they
+continue to compile, and neither affect wit, nor presume to reason.
+
+There is a fourth class, of much less use than these, but of much
+greater name. Men of the first rank in learning, and to whom the whole
+tribe of scholars bow with reverence. A man must be as indifferent as
+I am to common censure or approbation, to avow a thorough contempt for
+the whole business of these learned lives; for all the researches into
+antiquity, for all the systems of chronology and history, that we owe
+to the immense labors of a Scaliger, a Bochart, a Petavius, an Usher,
+and even a Marsham. The same materials are common to them all; but
+these materials are few, and there is a moral impossibility that they
+should ever have more. They have combined these into every form that
+can be given to them; they have supposed, they have guessed, they have
+joined disjointed passages of different authors, and broken traditions
+of uncertain originals, of various people, and of centuries remote
+from one another as well as from ours. In short, that they might leave
+no liberty untaken, even a wild fantastical similitude of sounds has
+served to prop up a system. As the materials they have are few, so are
+the very best and such as pass for authentic extremely precarious, as
+learned persons themselves confess.
+
+Julius Africanus, Eusebius, and George the Monk opened the principal
+sources of all this science; but they corrupted the waters. Their
+point of view was to make profane history and chronology agree with
+sacred. For this purpose, the ancient monuments that these writers
+conveyed to posterity were digested by them according to the system
+they were to maintain; and none of these monuments were delivered down
+in their original form and genuine purity. The dynasties of Manetho,
+for instance, are broken to pieces by Eusebius, and such fragments of
+them as suited his design are stuck into his work. We have, we know,
+no more of them. The "Codex Alexandrinus" we owe to George the Monk.
+We have no other authority for it; and one can not see without
+amazement such a man as Sir John Marsham undervaluing this authority
+in one page, and building his system upon it in the next. He seems
+even by the lightness of his expressions, if I remember well, for it
+is long since I looked into his canon, not to be much concerned what
+foundation his system had, so he showed his skill in forming one, and
+in reducing the immense antiquity of the Egyptians within the limits
+of the Hebraic calculation.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 6: A name under which Aristotle was sometimes known, from
+his birthplace Stag.]
+
+[Footnote 7: One of the "Letters on the Study of History."]
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER POPE
+
+     Born to London in 1688, died in 1744; his father a linen
+     draper, converted to the Catholic faith; not regularly
+     educated, owing to his frail and sickly body; began to write
+     in boyhood, and before he was seventeen had met the leading
+     literary men of London; his "Essay on Criticism," published
+     in 1711, translation of Homer in 1720 and 1725, "Essay on
+     Man," in 1732-34.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+AN ANCIENT ENGLISH COUNTRY SEAT[8]
+
+
+'Tis not possible to express the least part of the joy your return
+gives me; time only and experience will convince you how very sincere
+it is. I excessively long to meet you, to say so much, so very much to
+you, that I believe I shall say nothing. I have given orders to be
+sent for the first minute of your arrival--which I beg you will let
+them know at Mr. Jervas's. I am four-score miles from London, a short
+journey compared to that I so often thought at least of undertaking,
+rather than die without seeing you again. Tho the place I am in is
+such as I would not quit for the town, if I did not value you more
+than any, nay everybody else there; and you will be convinced how
+little the town has engaged my affections in your absence from it,
+when you know what a place this is which I prefer to it; I shall
+therefore describe it to you at large, as the true picture of a
+genuine ancient country-seat.
+
+You must expect nothing regular in my description of a house that
+seems to be built before rules were in fashion: the whole is so
+disjointed, and the parts so detached from each other, and yet so
+joining again, one can not tell how, that--in a poetical fit--you
+would imagine it had been a village in Amphion's time, where twenty
+cottages had taken a dance together, were all out, and stood still in
+amazement ever since. A stranger would be grievously disappointed who
+should ever think to get into this house the right way. One would
+expect, after entering through the porch, to be let into the hall;
+alas! nothing less, you find yourself in a brew-house. From the
+parlor you think to step into the drawing-room; but, upon opening the
+iron-nailed door, you are convinced, by a flight of birds about your
+ears, and a cloud of dust in your eyes, that it is the pigeon-house.
+On each side our porch are two chimneys, that wear their greens on the
+outside, which would do as well within, for whenever we make a fire,
+we let the smoke out of the windows. Over the parlor window hangs a
+sloping balcony, which, time has turned to a very convenient
+penthouse. The top is crowned with a very venerable tower, so like
+that of the church just by, that the jackdaws build in it as if it
+were the true steeple.
+
+The great hall is high and spacious, flanked with long tables, images
+of ancient hospitality; ornamented with monstrous horns, about twenty
+broken pikes, and a matchlock musket or two, which they say were used
+in the civil wars. Here is one vast arched window, beautifully
+darkened with divers scutcheons of painted glass. There seems to be
+great propriety in this old manner of blazoning upon glass, ancient
+families being like ancient windows, in the course of generations
+seldom free from cracks. One shining pane bears date 1286. The
+youthful face of Dame Elinor owes more to this single piece than to
+all the glasses she ever consulted in her life. Who can say after this
+that glass is frail, when it is not half so perishable as human beauty
+or glory? For in another pane you see the memory of a knight
+preserved, whose marble nose is moldered from his monument in the
+church adjoining. And yet, must not one sigh to reflect, that the
+most authentic record of so ancient a family should lie at the mercy
+of every boy that throws a stone? In this hall, in former days, have
+dined gartered knights and courtly dames, with ushers, sewers, and
+seneschals; and yet it was but the other night that an owl flew in
+hither, and mistook it for a barn.
+
+This hall lets you up (and down) over a very high threshold, into the
+parlor. It is furnished with historical tapestry, whose marginal
+fringes do confess the moisture of the air. The other contents of this
+room are a broken-bellied virginal, a couple of crippled velvet
+chairs, with two or three mildewed pictures of moldy ancestors, who
+look as dismally as if they came fresh from hell with all their
+brimstone about 'em. These are carefully set at the further corner:
+for the windows being everywhere broken, make it so convenient a place
+to dry poppies and mustard-seed in, that the room is appropriated to
+that use.
+
+Next this parlor lies, as I said before, the pigeon-house, by the side
+of which runs an entry that leads, on one hand and t'other, into a
+bed-chamber, a buttery, and a small hole called the chaplain's study.
+Then follow a brew-house, a little green and gilt parlor, and the
+great stairs, under which is the dairy. A little further on the right,
+the servants' hall; and by the side of it, up six steps, the old
+lady's closet, which has a lattice into the said hall, that, while she
+said her prayers, she might cast an eye on the men and maids. There
+are upon this ground floor in all twenty-four apartments, hard to be
+distinguished by particular names; among which I must not forget a
+chamber that has in it a large antiquity of timber, which seems to
+have been either a bedstead or a cider-press.
+
+Our best room above is very long and low, of the exact proportion of a
+bandbox; it has hangings of the finest work in the world; those, I
+mean, which Arachne spins out of her own bowels: indeed, the roof is
+so decayed, that after a favorable shower of rain, we may, with God's
+blessing, expect a crop of mushrooms between the chinks of the floors.
+
+All this upper story has for many years had no other inhabitants than
+certain rats, whose very age renders them worthy of this venerable
+mansion, for the very rats of this ancient seat are gray. Since these
+have not quitted it, we hope at least this house may stand during the
+small remainder of days these poor animals have to live, who are now
+too infirm to remove to another: they have still a small subsistence
+left them in the few remaining books of the library.
+
+I had never seen half what I have described, but for an old starched
+gray-headed steward, who is as much an antiquity as any in the place,
+and looks like an old family picture walked out of its frame. He
+failed not, as we passed from room to room, to relate several memoirs
+of the family; but his observations were particularly curious in the
+cellar: he shewed where stood the triple rows of butts of sack, and
+where were ranged the bottles of tent for toasts in the morning; he
+pointed to the stands that supported the iron-hooped hogsheads of
+strong beer; then stepping to a corner, he lugged out the tattered
+fragment of an unframed picture: "This," says he, with tears in his
+eyes, "was poor Sir Thomas, once master of all the drink I told you
+of: he had two sons (poor young masters!) that never arrived to the
+age of his beer; they both fell ill in this very cellar, and never
+went out upon their own legs." He could not pass by a broken bottle
+without taking it up to show us the arms of the family on it. He then
+led me up the tower, by dark winding stone steps, which landed us into
+several little rooms, one above the other; one of these was nailed up,
+and my guide whispered to me the occasion of it. It seems the course
+of this noble blood was a little interrupted about two centuries ago
+by a freak of the Lady Frances, who was here taken with a neighboring
+prior; ever since which the room has been nailed up, and branded with
+the name of the adultery-chamber. The ghost of Lady Frances is
+supposed to walk here: some prying maids of the family formerly
+reported that they saw a lady in a farthingale through the keyhole;
+but this matter was hushed up, and the servants forbid to talk of it.
+
+I must needs have tired you with this long letter; but what engaged me
+in the description was a generous principle to preserve the memory of
+a thing that must itself soon fall to ruin; nay, perhaps, some part of
+it before this reaches your hands: indeed, I owe this old house the
+same sort of gratitude that we do to an old friend that harbors us in
+his declining condition, nay, even in his last extremities. I have
+found this an excellent place for retirement and study, where no one
+who passes by can dream there is an inhabitant, and even anybody that
+would visit me dares not venture under my roof. You will not wonder I
+have translated a great deal of Homer in this retreat; any one that
+sees it will own I could not have chosen a fitter or more likely place
+to converse with the dead. As soon as I return to the living, it shall
+be to converse with the best of them. I hope, therefore, very speedily
+to tell you in person how sincerely and unalterably I am, madam, your
+most faithful, obliged, and obedient servant.
+
+I beg Mr. Wortley to believe me his most humble servant.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+HIS COMPLIMENTS TO LADY MARY[9]
+
+
+I have been (what I never was till now) in debt to you for a letter
+some weeks. I was informed you were at sea, and that 'twas to no
+purpose to write till some news had been heard of you somewhere or
+other. Besides, I have had a second dangerous illness, from which I
+was more diligent to be recovered than from the first, having now some
+hopes of seeing you again. If you make any tour in Italy, I shall not
+easily forgive you for not acquainting me soon enough to have met you
+there. I am very certain I shall never be polite unless I travel with
+you, and it is never to be repaired, the loss that Homer has sustained
+for want of my translating him in Asia.
+
+You will come here full of criticisms against a man who wanted nothing
+to be in the right, but to have kept you company; you have no way of
+making me amends but by continuing an Asiatic when you return to me,
+whatever English airs you may put on to other people. I prodigiously
+long for your sounds, your remarks, your Oriental learning; but I long
+for nothing so much as your Oriental self. You must of necessity be
+advanced so far back in true nature and simplicity of manners, by
+these three years' residence in the East, that I shall look upon you
+as so many years younger than you was, so much nearer innocence (that
+is truth) and infancy (that is openness). I expect to see your soul as
+much thinner drest than your body, and that you have left off as weary
+and cumbersome a great many damned European habits. Without offense to
+your modesty be it spoken, I have a burning desire to see your soul
+stark naked, for I am confident it is the prettiest kind of white soul
+in the universe. But I forget whom I am talking to; you may possibly
+by this time believe according to the Prophet, that you have none; if
+so, show me that which comes next to a soul, you may easily put it
+upon a poor ignorant Christian for a soul and please him as well with
+it--I mean your heart--Mohammed I think allows you hearts; which
+(together with fine eyes and other agreeable equivalents) are with all
+the souls on the other side of the world.
+
+But if I must be content with seeing your body only, God send it come
+quickly. I honor it more than the diamond casket that held Homer's
+Iliads; for in the very twinkle of one eye of it there is more wit,
+and in the very dimple of one cheek of it there is more meaning, than
+all the souls that were carefully put into woman since God had the
+making of them.
+
+I have a mind to fill the rest of this paper with an accident that has
+happened just under my eyes, and has made a great impression on me. I
+have just passed part of the summer at an old romantic seat of my Lord
+Harcourt's which he lent me. It overlooks a commonfield, where, under
+the shade of the haycock, sat two lovers as constant as ever were
+found in romance, beneath a spreading beech. The name of the one (let
+it sound as it will) was John Hewet; of the other, Sarah Drew. John
+was a well-set man of about five and twenty, Sarah a brown woman of
+eighteen. John had for several months borne the labor of the day in
+the same field with Sarah; when she milked it was his morning and
+evening charge to bring the cows to her pail.
+
+Their love was the talk, but not the scandal, of the whole
+neighborhood; for all they aimed at was the blameless possession of
+each other in marriage. It was but this very morning that he had
+obtained her parent's consent, and it was but till the next week that
+they were to wait to be happy. Perhaps this very day, in the interval
+of their work, they were talking about their wedding clothes, and
+John was now matching several kinds of poppies and field flowers to
+her complexion to make her a present of knots for the day.
+
+While they are thus employed (it was in the last of July) a terrible
+storm of thunder and lightning arose, that drove the laborers to what
+shelter the trees or hedge afforded. Sarah, frightened and out of
+breath, sunk on a haycock, and John (who was never separated from her)
+sate by her side, having raked two or three heaps together to secure
+her. Immediately there was heard so loud a crash as if heaven were
+burst asunder. The laborers, all solicitous for each other's safety,
+called to one another. Those that were nearest our lovers, hearing no
+answer, stept to the place where they lay; they first saw a little
+smoke and after this the faithful pair--John with one arm about his
+Sarah's neck, and the other held over her face as if to screen her
+from the lightning. They were struck dead and already grown stiff and
+cold in this tender posture. There was no mark or discoloring on their
+bodies, only that Sarah's eyebrow was a little singed and a small spot
+between her breasts. They were buried the next day in one grave, in
+the parish of Stanton Harcourt, in Oxfordshire; where my lord
+Harcourt, at my request, has erected a monument over them....
+
+Upon the whole, I can't think these people unhappy. The greatest
+happiness, next to living as they would have done, was to die as they
+did. The greatest honor people of their low degree could have was to
+be remembered on a little monument; unless you will give them
+another--that of being honored with a tear from the finest eyes in
+the world. I know you have tenderness; you must have it; it is the
+very emanation of good sense and virtue; the finest minds like the
+finest metals dissolve the easiest.
+
+But when you are reflecting upon objects of pity, pray do not forget
+one, who had no sooner found out an object of the highest esteem than
+he was separated from it; and who is so very unhappy as not to be
+susceptible of consolation from others, by being so miserable in the
+right as to think other women what they really are. Such a one can't
+but be desperately fond of any creature that is quite different from
+these. If the Circassian be utterly void of such honor as these have,
+and such virtue as these boast of, I am content. I have detested the
+sound of honest woman, and loving spouse, ever since I heard the
+pretty name of Odaliche.
+
+Dear Madam, I am forever yours,
+
+My most humble services to Mr. Wortley.[10] Pray let me hear from you
+soon, tho I shall very soon write again. I am confident half our
+letters are lost.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+HOW TO MAKE AN EPIC POEM[11]
+
+
+It is no small pleasure to me, who am zealous in the interests of
+learning, to think I may have the honor of leading the town into a
+very new and uncommon road of criticism. As that kind of literature is
+at present carried on, it consists only in a knowledge of mechanic
+rules which contribute to the structure of different sorts of poetry,
+as the receipts of good housewives do to the making puddings of flour,
+oranges, plums, or any other ingredients. It would, methinks, make
+these my instructions more easily intelligible to ordinary readers, if
+I discoursed of these matters in the style in which ladies learned in
+economics dictate to their pupils for the improvement of the kitchen
+and larder.
+
+I shall begin with epic poetry, because the critics agree it is the
+greatest work human nature is capable of. I know the French have
+already laid down many mechanical rules for compositions of this sort,
+but at the same time they cut off almost all undertakers from the
+possibility of ever performing them; for the first qualification they
+unanimously require in a poet is a genius. I shall here endeavor (for
+the benefit of my countrymen) to make it manifest that epic poems may
+be made "without a genius," nay, without learning, or much reading.
+This must necessarily be of great use to all those poets who confess
+they never read, and of whom the world is convinced they never learn.
+What Molière observes of making a dinner, that any man can do it with
+money, and if a profest cook can not without, he has his art for
+nothing, the same may be said of making a poem--it is easily brought
+about by him that has a genius, but the skill lies in doing it without
+one. In pursuance of this end, I shall present the reader with a plain
+and certain receipt, by which even sonneteers and ladies may be
+qualified for this grand performance.
+
+I know it will be objected that one of the chief qualifications of an
+epic poet is to be knowing in all arts and sciences. But this ought
+not to discourage those that have no learning, as long as indexes and
+dictionaries may be had, which are the compendium of all knowledge.
+Besides, since it is an established rule that none of the terms of
+those arts and sciences are to be made use of, one may venture to
+affirm our poet can not impertinently offend in this point. The
+learning which will be more particularly necessary to him is the
+ancient geography of towns, mountains, and rivers; for this let him
+take Culverius, value fourpence.
+
+Another quality required is a complete skill in languages. To this I
+answer that it is notorious persons of no genius have been oftentimes
+great linguists. To instance in the Greek, of which there are two
+sorts; the original Greek, and that from which our modern authors
+translate. I should be unwilling to promise impossibilities; but
+modestly speaking, this may be learned in about an hour's time with
+ease. I have known one who became a sudden professor of Greek
+immediately upon application of the left-hand page of the Cambridge
+Homer to his eye. It is in these days with authors as with other men,
+the well bred are familiarly acquainted with, them at first sight; and
+as it is sufficient for a good general to have surveyed the ground he
+is to conquer, so it is enough for a good poet to have seen the author
+he is to be master of. But to proceed to the purpose of this paper.
+
+For the Fable.--Take out of any old poem, history book, romance or
+legend (for instance, Geoffrey of Monmouth, or Don Belianis of
+Greece[12]), those parts of story which afford most scope for long
+descriptions. Put these pieces together, and throw all the adventures
+you fancy into one tale. Then take a hero you may choose for the sound
+of his name, and put him into the midst of these adventures. There let
+him work for twelve books; at the end of which you may take him out
+ready prepared to conquer, or to marry; it being necessary that the
+conclusion of an epic poem be fortunate.
+
+To Make an Episode.--Take any remaining adventure of your former
+collection, in which you could no way involve your hero; or any
+unfortunate accident that was too good to be thrown away; and it will
+be of use applied to any other person, who may be lost and evaporate
+in the course of the work, without the least damage to the
+composition.
+
+For the Moral and Allegory.--These you may extract out of the fable
+afterward, at your leisure. Be sure you strain them sufficiently.
+
+For the Manners.--For those of the hero, take all the best qualities
+you can find in all the celebrated heroes of antiquity; if they will
+not be reduced to a consistency, lay them all in a heap upon him. But
+be sure they are qualities which your patron would be thought to have;
+and, to prevent any mistake which the world may be subject to, select
+from the alphabet those capital letters that compose his name, and set
+them at the head of a dedication before your poem. However, do not
+absolutely observe the exact quantity of these virtues, it not being
+determined whether or no it be necessary for the hero of a poem to be
+an honest man. For the under characters, gather them from Homer and
+Virgil, and change the names as occasion serves.
+
+For the Machines.--Take of deities, male and female, as many as you
+can use. Separate them into two equal parts, and keep Jupiter in the
+middle. Let Juno put him in a ferment, and Venus mollify him. Remember
+on all occasions to make use of volatile Mercury. If you have need of
+devils, draw them out of Milton's Paradise, and extract your spirits
+from Tasso. The use of these machines is evident; for since no epic
+poem can possibly subsist without them, the wisest way is to reserve
+them for your greatest necessities. When you can not extricate your
+hero by any human means, or yourself by your own wits, seek relief
+from heaven, and the gods will do your business very readily. This is
+according to the direct prescription of Horace in his "Art of
+Poetry," verse 191:
+
+    Never presume to make a god appear,
+    But for a business worthy of a god.[13]
+
+That is to say, a poet should never call upon the gods for their
+assistance but when he is in great perplexity.
+
+For a Tempest.--Take Eurus, Zephyr, Auster, and Boreas, and cast them
+together in one verse. Add to these of rain, lightning, and of thunder
+(the loudest you can) _quantum sufficit_. Mix your clouds and billows
+well together until they foam, and thicken your description here and
+there with a quicksand. Brew your tempest well in your head, before
+you set it a-blowing.
+
+For a Battle.--Pick a large quantity of images and descriptions from
+Homer's "Iliad," with a spice or two of Virgil, and if there remain
+any overplus you may lay them by for a skirmish. Season it well with
+similes, and it will make an excellent battle.
+
+For Burning a Town.--If such a description be necessary, because it is
+certain there is one in Virgil, Old Troy is ready burned to your
+hands. But if you fear that would be thought borrowed, a chapter or
+two of the Theory of the Conflagration, well circumstanced, and done
+into verse, will be a good succedaneum.
+
+As for Similes and Metaphors, they may be found all over the creation;
+the most ignorant may gather them, but the danger is in applying them.
+For this advise with your bookseller.
+
+For the Language (I mean the diction).--Here it will do well to be an
+imitator of Milton, for you will find it easier to imitate him in this
+than anything else. Hebraisms and Grecisms are to be found in him,
+without the trouble of learning the languages. I knew a painter, who
+(like our poet) had no genius, make his daubings to be thought
+originals by setting them in the smoke. You may in the same manner
+give the venerable air of antiquity to your piece by darkening it up
+and down with old English. With this you may be easily furnished upon
+any occasion by the dictionary commonly printed at the end of Chaucer.
+
+I must not conclude without cautioning all writers without genius in
+one material point, which is, never to be afraid of having too much
+fire in their works. I should advise rather to take their warmest
+thoughts, and spread them abroad upon paper; for they are observed to
+cool before they are read.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 8: A letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. The mansion here
+described is Stanton Harcourt, near the hamlet of Cokethorpe in
+Oxfordshire. Here the Harcourts had lived since the twelfth century.
+At the date of Pope's letter, it was the seat of Simon Harcourt, first
+viscount, but Simon's father, Sir Philip Harcourt, for many years was
+the last of the family actually to live there, his widow afterward
+permitting the buildings to fall into the state of decay which Pope
+describes. In the tower is an upper chamber over the chapel which
+still bears the name of "Pope's Study." It was there, in 1718, that
+Pope finished the fifth volume of his translation of Homer. Simon, the
+first viscount, had taken up his residence at Stanton Harcourt a short
+time before the date of Pope's letter--that is, about 1715. He
+frequently had as guests Pope, Swift, Gay and Prior, being himself
+fond of literary pursuits. Twelve letters written to him by Pope have
+been preserved among the family papers. Pope, in his letter to Lady
+Mary, of September 1, 1718, which here follows the one beginning on
+the previous page, in referring to the mansion uses the words, "which
+he lent me," indicating that Pope was occupying the mansion at the
+invitation of Lord Harcourt. Swift and Harcourt sometimes quarreled
+over political matters, in which Harcourt was prominent. On one
+occasion Swift called him "Trimming Harcourt."]
+
+[Footnote 9: A letter dated September 1, 1718, and addrest to Lady
+Mary Wortley Montagu, who was then living in Turkey. Pope and she
+afterward (about 1722) quarreled bitterly. Leslie Stephen, discussing
+the matter, says "the extreme bitterness with which Pope ever
+afterward assailed her can be explained most plausibly, and least to
+his discredit, upon the assumption that his extravagant expressions of
+gallantry covered some real passion." If this be a true inference, his
+passion "was probably converted into antipathy by the contempt with
+which she received his declaration."]
+
+[Footnote 10: Her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, the name Montagu
+having been added for reasons connected with a family estate.]
+
+[Footnote 11: From the Guardian.]
+
+[Footnote 12: "Belianis of Greece" was a continuation of the romance
+"Amadis of Gaul," which was published in Spanish in 1547, and
+translated into English in 1598. The author was Jeronimo Fernandez.]
+
+[Footnote 13: The translation is by Roscommon.]
+
+
+
+
+LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU
+
+     Baptized in 1689, died in 1762; eldest daughter of the Duke
+     of Kingston; married Edward Wortley Montagu, grandson of the
+     Earl of Sandwich, in 1712; her husband sent to Turkey as
+     ambassador in 1716; she was a close friend of Pope, but
+     afterward quarreled with him; in 1739 left England, settling
+     in Venice, where she remained until 1762; her "Letters"
+     published in 1763, with further instalments in 1767 and
+     later years.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+ON HAPPINESS IN THE MATRIMONIAL STATE[14]
+
+
+I received both your Monday letters before I wrote the inclosed,
+which, however, I send you. The kind letter was written and sent
+Friday morning, and I did not receive yours till Saturday noon. To
+speak truth, you would never have had it else; there were so many
+things in yours to put me out of humor. Thus, you see, it was on no
+design to repair anything that offended you. You only show me how
+industrious you are to find faults in me: why will you not suffer me
+to be pleased with you?
+
+I would see you if I could (tho perhaps it may be wrong); but in the
+way that I am here, 'tis impossible. I can't come to town but in
+company with my sister-in-law: I can carry her nowhere but where she
+pleases; or if I could, I would trust her with nothing. I could not
+walk out alone without giving suspicion to the whole family; should I
+be watched, and seen to meet a man--judge of the consequences!
+
+You speak of treating with my father, as if you believed he would come
+to terms afterward. I will not suffer you to remain in the thought,
+however advantageous it might be to me; I will deceive you in nothing.
+I am fully persuaded he will never hear of terms afterward. You may
+say, 'tis talking oddly of him. I can't answer to that; but 'tis my
+real opinion, and I think I know him. You talk to me of estates, as if
+I was the most interested woman in the world. Whatever faults I may
+have shown in my life, I know not one action in it that ever proved me
+mercenary. I think there can not be a greater proof to the contrary
+than my treating with you, where I am to depend entirely upon your
+generosity, at the same time that I may have settled on me £500 per
+annum pin-money, and a considerable jointure, in another place; not to
+reckon that I may have by his temper what command of his estate I
+please: and with you I have nothing to pretend to. I do not, however,
+make a merit to you: money is very little to me, because all beyond
+necessaries I do not value that is to be purchased by it. If the man
+proposed to me had £10,000 per annum, and I was sure to dispose of it
+all, I should act just as I do. I have in my life known a good deal of
+show, and never found myself the happier for it.
+
+In proposing to you to follow the scheme proposed by that friend, I
+think 'tis absolutely necessary for both our sakes. I would have you
+want no pleasure which a single life would afford you. You own you
+think nothing so agreeable. A woman that adds nothing to a man's
+fortune ought not to take from his happiness. If possible, I would add
+to it; but I will not take from you any satisfaction you could enjoy
+without me. On my own side, I endeavor to form as right a judgment of
+the temper of human nature, and of my own in particular, as I am
+capable of. I would throw off all partiality and passion, and be calm
+in my opinion. Almost all people are apt to run into a mistake, that
+when they once feel or give a passion, there needs nothing to
+entertain it. This mistake makes, in the number of women that inspire
+even violent passions, hardly one preserve one after possession. If we
+marry, our happiness must consist in loving one another; 'tis
+principally my concern to think of the most probable method of making
+that love eternal. You object against living in London: I am not fond
+of it myself, and readily give it up to you; tho I am assured there
+needs more art to keep a fondness alive in solitude, where it
+generally preys upon itself.
+
+There is one article absolutely necessary: to be ever beloved, one
+must ever be agreeable. There is no such thing as being agreeable
+without a thorough good-humor, a natural sweetness of temper,
+enlivened by cheerfulness. Whatever natural funds of gaiety one is
+born with, 'tis necessary to be entertained with agreeable objects.
+Anybody capable of tasting pleasure when they confine themselves to
+one place, should take care 'tis the place in the world the most
+agreeable. Whatever you may now think (now, perhaps, you have some
+fondness for me), tho your love should continue in its full force
+there are hours when the most beloved mistress would be troublesome.
+People are not forever (nor is it in human nature that they should be)
+disposed to be fond; you would be glad to find in me the friend and
+the companion. To be agreeably the last, it is necessary to be gay and
+entertaining. A perpetual solitude, in a place where you see nothing
+to raise your spirits, at length wears them out, and conversation
+insensibly becomes dull and insipid. When I have no more to say to
+you, you will like me no longer.
+
+How dreadful is that view! You will reflect for my sake you have
+abandoned the conversation of a friend that you liked, and your
+situation in a country where all things would have contributed to make
+your life pass in (the true _volupté_) a smooth tranquillity. I shall
+lose the vivacity which should entertain you, and you will have
+nothing to recompense you for what you have lost. Very few people that
+have settled entirely in the country, but have grown at length weary
+of one another. The lady's conversation generally falls into a
+thousand impertinent effects of idleness; and the gentleman falls in
+love with his dogs and his horses, and out of love with everything
+else. I am not now arguing in favor of the town: you have answered me
+as to that point.
+
+In respect of your health, 'tis the first thing to be considered, and
+I shall never ask you to do anything injurious to that. But 'tis my
+opinion, 'tis necessary, to be happy, that we neither of us think any
+place more agreeable than that where we are. I have nothing to do in
+London; and 'tis indifferent to me if I never see it more. I know not
+how to answer your mentioning gallantry, nor in what sense to
+understand you: whomever I marry, when I am married I renounce all
+things of the kind. I am willing to abandon all conversation but
+yours; I will part with anything for you, but you. I will not have you
+a month, to lose you for the rest of my life. If you can pursue the
+plan of happiness begun with your friend, and take me for that friend,
+I am ever yours. I have examined my own heart whether I can leave
+everything for you; I think I can: if I change my mind, you shall know
+before Sunday; after that I will not change my mind.
+
+If 'tis necessary for your affairs to stay in England, to assist your
+father in his business, as I suppose the time will be short, I would
+be as little injurious to your fortune as I can, and I will do it. But
+I am still of opinion nothing is so likely to make us both happy as
+what I propose. I foresee I may break with you on this point, and I
+shall certainly be displeased with myself for it, and wish a thousand
+times that I had done whatever you pleased; but, however, I hope I
+shall always remember how much more miserable than anything else
+would make me, should I be to live with you and to please you no
+longer. You can be pleased with nothing when you are not pleased with
+your wife. One of the "Spectators" is very just that says, "A man
+ought always to be upon his guard against spleen and a too severe
+philosophy; a woman, against levity and coquetry." If we go to Naples,
+I will make no acquaintance there of any kind, and you will be in a
+place where a variety of agreeable objects will dispose you to be ever
+pleased. If such a thing is possible, this will secure our everlasting
+happiness; and I am ready to wait on you without leaving a thought
+behind me.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+INOCULATION FOR THE SMALLPOX[15]
+
+
+Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make
+you wish yourself here. The smallpox, so fatal and so general amongst
+us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of ingrafting, which
+is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it
+their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of
+September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another
+to know if any of their family has a mind to have the smallpox; they
+make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen
+or sixteen together), the old woman comes with a nutshell full of the
+matter of the best sort of smallpox, and asks what vein you please to
+have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer with a large
+needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch), and puts
+into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle,
+and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell;
+and in this manner opens four or five veins.
+
+The Grecians have commonly the superstition of opening one in the
+middle of the forehead, one in each arm, and one in the breast, to
+mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these
+wounds leaving little scars, and is not done by those that are not
+superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of
+the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play
+together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the
+eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds
+two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or
+thirty [spots] in their faces, which never mark; and in eight days'
+time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded,
+there remain running sores during the distemper, which I don't doubt
+is a great relief to it. Every year thousands undergo this operation;
+and the French ambassador says, pleasantly, that they take the
+smallpox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other
+countries. There is no example of any one that has died in it; and
+you may believe that I am well satisfied of the safety of this
+experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son.
+
+I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into
+fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to some of our
+doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I
+thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of
+their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too
+beneficial to them, not to expose to all their resentment the hardy
+wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps if I live to
+return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. Upon this
+occasion, admire the heroism in the heart of your friend, etc., etc.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 14: Letter to Edward Wortley Montagu, written before she
+married him. Lady Mary was married to Montagu on August 12, 1712. At
+his first proposal to her, he had been rejected. Lady Mary's father
+insisted that she should marry another man; the settlements for this
+marriage had been drawn and the wedding day fixt, when Lady Mary left
+her father's house and married Montagu privately. Montagu was a man of
+some eminence in public life, but noted for miserly habits. He
+accumulated one of the largest private estates of his time.]
+
+[Footnote 15: Letter to Sarah Criswell, dated Adrianople, Turkey,
+April 1, O. S., 1717. To Lady Mary is usually accorded chief credit
+for the introduction of inoculation into western Europe.]
+
+
+
+
+LORD CHESTERFIELD
+
+     Born in 1694, died in 1773; educated at Cambridge; became a
+     member of Parliament; filled several places in the
+     diplomatic service; became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in
+     1734; his "Letters to His Son," published in 1774 after his
+     death.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF GOOD MANNERS, DRESS AND THE WORLD[16]
+
+
+There is a _bienséance_ with regard to people of the lowest degree; a
+gentleman observes it with his footman, even with the beggar in the
+street. He considers them as objects of compassion, not of insult; he
+speaks to neither _d'un ton brusque_, but corrects the one coolly, and
+refuses the other with humanity. There is no one occasion in the
+world, in which _le ton brusque_ is becoming a gentleman. In short,
+_les bienséances_ are another word for manners, and extend to every
+part of life. They are propriety; the Graces should attend in order to
+complete them: the Graces enable us to do genteelly and pleasingly
+what _les bienséances_ require to be done at all. The latter are an
+obligation upon every man; the former are an infinite advantage and
+ornament to any man.
+
+People unused to the world have babbling countenances, and are
+unskilful enough to show what they have sense enough not to tell. In
+the course of the world, a man must very often put on an easy, frank
+countenance, upon very disagreeable occasions; he must seem pleased,
+when he is very much otherwise; he must be able to accost and receive
+with smiles those whom he would much rather meet with swords. In
+courts he must not turn himself inside out. All this may, nay, must be
+done, without falsehood and treachery: for it must go no further than
+politeness and manners, and must stop short of assurances and
+professions of simulated friendship. Good manners to those one does
+not love are no more a breach of truth than "your humble servant," at
+the bottom of a challenge, is; they are universally agreed upon and
+understood to be things of course. They are necessary guards of the
+decency and peace of society: they must only act defensively; and then
+not with arms poisoned with perfidy. Truth, but not the whole truth,
+must be the invariable principle of every man who hath either
+religion, honor, or prudence.
+
+I can not help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character
+from his dress; and I believe most people do as well as myself. Any
+affectation whatsoever in dress implies in my mind a flaw in the
+understanding.... 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
+drest, the excess on that side will wear off with a little age and
+reflection; but if he is negligent at twenty, he will be a sloven at
+forty and stink at fifty years old. Dress yourself fine where others
+are fine, and plain where others are plain; but take care always that
+your clothes are well made and fit you, for otherwise they will give
+you a very awkward air. When you are once well drest for the day,
+think no more of it afterward; and without any stiffness or fear of
+discomposing that dress, let all your motions be as easy and natural
+as if you had no clothes on at all.
+
+A friend of yours and mine has 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 can not 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, 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. And indeed there seems to me to be less difference, both
+between the crimes and punishments, than at first one would
+imagine.... Mutual complaisances, attentions, and sacrifices of little
+conveniences are as natural an implied compact between civilized
+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."
+
+Men who converse only with women are frivolous, effeminate puppies,
+and those who never converse with them are bears.
+
+The desire of being pleased is universal. The desire of pleasing
+should be so too. Misers are not so much blamed for being misers as
+envied for being rich.
+
+Dissimulation, to a certain degree, is as necessary in business as
+clothes are in the common intercourse of life; and a man would be as
+imprudent who should exhibit his inside naked, as he would be indecent
+if he produced his outside so.
+
+A woman will be implicitly governed by the man whom she is in love
+with, but will not be directed by the man whom she esteems the most.
+The former is the result of passion, which is her character; the
+latter must be the effect of reasoning, which is by no means of the
+feminine gender.
+
+The best moral virtues are those of which the vulgar are, perhaps, the
+best judges.
+
+Let us, then, not only scatter benefits, but even strew flowers, for
+our fellow travelers in the rugged ways of this wretched world.
+
+Your duty to man is very short and clear; it is only to do to him
+whatever you would be willing that he should do to you. And remember
+in all the business of your life to ask your conscience this question,
+Should I be willing that this should be done to me? If your
+conscience, which will always tell you truth, answers no, do not do
+that thing. Observe these rules, and you will be happy in this world
+and still happier in the next.
+
+Carefully avoid all affectation either of mind or body. It is a very
+true and a very trite observation that no man is ridiculous for being
+what he really is, but for affecting to be what he is not. No man is
+awkward by nature, but by affecting to be genteel, and I have known
+many a man of common sense pass generally for a fool because he
+affected a degree of wit that God had denied him. A plowman is by no
+means awkward in the exercise of his trade, but would be exceedingly
+ridiculous if he attempted the airs and grace of a man of fashion.
+
+What is commonly called in the world a man or a woman of spirit are
+the two most detestable and most dangerous animals that inhabit it.
+They are strong-headed, captious, jealous, offended without reason,
+and offending with as little. The man of spirit has immediate
+recourse to his sword, and the woman of spirit to her tongue, and it
+is hard to say which of the two is the most mischievous weapon.
+
+Speak to the King with full as little concern (tho with more respect)
+as you would to your equals. This is the distinguishing characteristic
+of a gentleman and a man of the world.
+
+That silly article of dress is no trifle. Never be the first nor the
+last in the fashion. Wear as fine clothes as those of your rank
+commonly do, and rather better than worse, and when you are well drest
+once a day do not seem to know that you have any clothes on at all,
+but let your carriage and motion be as easy as they would be in your
+nightgowns.
+
+Let your address when you first come into any company be modest, but
+without the least bashfulness or sheepishness, steady without
+impudence, and as unembarrassed as if you were in your own room. This
+is a difficult point to hit, and therefore deserves great attention;
+nothing but a long usage of the world and in the best company can
+possibly give it.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF ATTENTIONS TO LADIES[17]
+
+
+Women, in a great degree, establish or destroy every man's reputation
+of good breeding; you must, therefore, in a manner, overwhelm them
+with the attentions of which I have spoken; they are used to them,
+they expect them; and, to do them justice, they commonly requite
+them. You must be sedulous, and rather over officious than under, in
+procuring them their coaches, their chairs, their conveniences in
+public places; not see what you should not see; and rather assist,
+where you can not help seeing. Opportunities of showing these
+attentions present themselves perpetually; but if they do not, make
+them. As Ovid advises his lover, when he sits in the circus near his
+mistress, to wipe the dust off her neck, even if there be none. _Si
+nullus tamen excute nullum._ Your conversation with women should
+always be respectful; but at the same time, _enjoué_, and always
+addrest to their vanity. Everything you say or do should convince them
+of the regard you have (whether you have it or not) for their beauty,
+their wit, or their merit. Men have possibly as much vanity as women,
+tho of another kind; and both art and good breeding require that,
+instead of mortifying, you should please and flatter it, by words and
+looks of approbation.
+
+Suppose (which is by no means improbable) that at your return to
+England, I should place you near the person of some one of the royal
+family; in that situation good breeding, engaging address, adorned
+with all the graces that dwell at courts, would very probably make you
+a favorite, and, from a favorite, a minister; but all the knowledge
+and learning in the world, without them, never would. The penetration
+of princes seldom goes deeper than the surface. It is the exterior
+that always engages their hearts; and I would never advise you to give
+yourself much trouble about their understandings. Princes in general
+(I mean those Porphyrogenets who are born and bred in purple) are
+about the pitch of women; bred up like them, and are to be addrest and
+gained in the same manner. They always see, they seldom weigh. Your
+luster, not your solidity, must take them; your inside will afterward
+support and secure what your outside has acquired.
+
+With weak people (and they undoubtedly are three parts in four of
+mankind) good breeding, address, and manners are everything; they can
+go no deeper: but let me assure you, that they are a great deal, even
+with people of the best understandings. Where the eyes are not
+pleased, and the heart is not flattered, the mind will be apt to stand
+out. Be this right or wrong, I confess, I am so made myself.
+Awkwardness and ill breeding shock me, to that degree, that where I
+meet with them, I can not find in my heart to inquire into the
+intrinsic merit of that person; I hastily decide in myself, that he
+can have none; and am not sure, I should not even be sorry to know
+that he had any. I often paint you in my imagination, in your present
+_lontananza_; and, while I view you in the light of ancient and modern
+learning, useful and ornamental knowledge, I am charmed with the
+prospect; but when I view you in another light, and represent you
+awkward, ungraceful, ill bred, with vulgar air and manners, shambling
+toward me with inattention and distractions, I shall not pretend to
+describe to you what I feel, but will do as a skilful painter did
+formerly, draw a veil before the countenance of the father.
+
+I dare say you know already enough of architecture to know that the
+Tuscan is the strongest and most solid of all the orders; but, at the
+same time, it is the coarsest and clumsiest of them. Its solidity does
+extremely well for the foundation and base floor of a great edifice;
+but, if the whole building be Tuscan, it will attract no eyes, it will
+stop no passengers, it will invite no interior examination; people
+will take it for granted that the finishing and furnishing can not be
+worth seeing, where the front is so unadorned and clumsy. But, if upon
+the solid Tuscan foundation, the Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian
+orders rise gradually with all their beauty, proportions, and
+ornaments, the fabric seizes the most incurious eye, and stops the
+most careless passenger, who solicits admission as a favor, nay, often
+purchases it. Just so will it fare with your little fabric, which at
+present I fear has more of the Tuscan than of the Corinthian order.
+You must absolutely change the whole front or nobody will knock at the
+door. The several parts which must compose this new front are elegant,
+easy, natural, superior good breeding; and an engaging address;
+genteel motions; an insinuating softness in your looks, words, and
+actions; a spruce, lively air, and fashionable dress; and all the
+glitter that a young fellow should have.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 16: From the "Letters to His Son," _passim_. Chesterfield,
+the man of affairs--and he had real distinction in the public life of
+his time--is quite forgotten, but his letters, which he wrote for
+private purposes and never dreamed would be published, have made him
+one of the English literary immortals.]
+
+[Footnote 17: From the "Letters to His Son."]
+
+
+
+
+HENRY FIELDING
+
+     Born in 1707, died in 1754; son of Gen. Edmund Fielding;
+     admitted to the bar in 1740; made a justice of the peace in
+     1748; chairman of Quarter Sessions in 1749; published
+     "Joseph Andrews" in 1742, "Tom Jones" in 1749, and "Amelia"
+     in 1751; among other works wrote many plays and "A Journal
+     of a Voyage to Lisbon," which was published in 1755, after
+     his death which occurred in Lisbon.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+TOM THE HERO ENTERS THE STAGE[18]
+
+
+As we determined when we first sat down to write this history to
+flatter no man, but to guide our pen throughout by the directions of
+truth, we are obliged to bring our hero on the stage in a much more
+disadvantageous manner than we could wish; and to declare honestly,
+even at his first appearance, that it was the universal opinion of all
+Mr. Allworthy's family that he was certainly born to be hanged.
+
+Indeed, I am sorry to say there was too much reason for this
+conjecture, the lad having from his earliest years discovered a
+propensity to many vices, and especially to one, which hath as a
+direct tendency as any other to that fate which we have just now
+observed to have been prophetically denounced against him. He had been
+already convicted of three robberies; viz., of robbing an orchard, of
+stealing a duck out of a farmer's yard, and of picking Master
+Blifil's pocket of a ball.
+
+The vices of this young man were, moreover, heightened by the
+disadvantageous light in which they appeared, when opposed to the
+virtues of Master Blifil, his companion--a youth of so different a
+caste from little Jones, that not only the family but all the
+neighborhood resounded his praises. He was indeed a lad of a
+remarkable disposition; sober, discreet, and pious beyond his
+age,--qualities which gained him the love of every one who knew him;
+whilst Tom Jones was universally disliked, and many exprest their
+wonder that Mr. Allworthy would suffer such a lad to be educated with
+his nephew, lest the morals of the latter should be corrupted by his
+example.
+
+An incident which happened about this time will set the character of
+these two lads more fairly before the discerning reader than is in the
+power of the longest dissertation.
+
+Tom Jones, who bad as he is must serve for the hero of this history,
+had only one friend among all the servants of the family; for as to
+Mrs. Wilkins, she had long since given him up, and was perfectly
+reconciled to her mistress. This friend was the gamekeeper, a fellow
+of a loose kind of disposition, and who was thought not to entertain
+much stricter notions concerning the difference of _meum_ and _tuum_
+than the young gentleman himself. And hence this friendship gave
+occasion to many sarcastical remarks among the domestics, most of
+which were either proverbs before, or at least are become so now; and
+indeed, the wit of them all may be comprised in that short Latin
+proverb, "_Noscitur a socio_," which I think is thus exprest in
+English: "You may know him by the company he keeps."
+
+To say the truth, some of that atrocious wickedness in Jones, of which
+we have just mentioned three examples, might perhaps be derived from
+the encouragement he had received from this fellow, who in two or
+three instances had been what the law calls an accessory after the
+fact. For the whole duck and a great part of the apples were converted
+to the use of the gamekeeper and his family. Tho as Jones alone was
+discovered, the poor lad bore not only the whole smart but the whole
+blame; both which fell again to his lot on the following occasion.
+
+Contiguous to Mr. Allworthy's estate was the manor of one of those
+gentlemen who are called preservers of the game. This species of men,
+from the great severity with which they revenge the death of a hare or
+a partridge, might be thought to cultivate the same superstition with
+the Bannians in India, many of whom, we are told, dedicate their whole
+lives to the preservation and protection of certain animals; was it
+not that our English Bannians, while they preserve them from other
+enemies, will most unmercifully slaughter whole horse-loads
+themselves, so that they stand clearly acquitted of any such
+heathenish superstition.
+
+I have indeed a much better opinion of this kind of men than is
+entertained by some, as I take them to answer the order of nature, and
+the good purposes for which they were ordained, in a more ample manner
+than many others. Now, as Horace tells us, that there are a set of
+human beings, _fruges consumere nati_, "born to consume the fruits of
+the earth," so I make no manner of doubt but that there are others,
+_feras consumere nati_, "born to consume the beasts of the field," or
+as it is commonly called, the game; and none, I believe, will deny but
+that those squires fulfil this end of their creation.
+
+Little Jones went one day a-shooting with the gamekeeper; when
+happening to spring a covey of partridges, near the border of that
+manor over which fortune, to fulfil the wise purposes of nature, had
+planted one of the game-consumers, the birds flew into it and were
+marked (as it is called) by the two sportsmen in some furze bushes,
+about two or three hundred paces beyond Mr. Allworthy's dominions.
+
+Mr. Allworthy had given the fellow strict orders, on pain of
+forfeiting his place, never to trespass on any of his neighbors; no
+more on those who were less rigid in this matter than on the lord of
+the manor. With regard to others, indeed, these orders had not been
+always very scrupulously kept; but as the disposition of the gentleman
+with whom the partridges had taken sanctuary was well known, the
+gamekeeper had never yet attempted to invade his territories. Nor had
+he done it now, had not the younger sportsman, who was excessively
+eager to pursue the flying game, over-persuaded him; but Jones being
+very importunate, the other, who was himself keen enough after the
+sport, yielded to his persuasions, entered the manor, and shot one of
+the partridges.
+
+The gentleman himself was at that time on horseback, at a little
+distance from them; and hearing the gun go off, he immediately made
+toward the place, and discovered poor Tom; for the gamekeeper had
+leapt into the thickest part of the furze-brake, where he had happily
+concealed himself.
+
+The gentleman having searched the lad and found the partridge upon
+him, denounced great vengeance, swearing he would acquaint Mr.
+Allworthy. He was as good as his word, for he rode immediately to his
+house and complained of the trespass on his manor, in as high terms
+and as bitter language as if his house had been broken open and the
+most valuable furniture stolen out of it. He added that some other
+person was in his company, tho he could not discover him; for that two
+guns had been discharged, almost in the same instant. And, says he,
+"We have found only this partridge, but the Lord knows what mischief
+they have done."
+
+At his return home, Tom was presently convened before Mr. Allworthy.
+He owned the fact, and alleged no other excuse but what was really
+true; viz., that the covey was originally sprung in Mr. Allworthy's
+own manor.
+
+Tom was then interrogated who was with him, which Mr. Allworthy
+declared he was resolved to know, acquainting the culprit with the
+circumstance of the two guns, which had been deposed by the squire and
+both his servants; but Tom stoutly persisted in asserting that he was
+alone; yet, to say the truth, he hesitated a little at first, which
+would have confirmed Mr. Allworthy's belief, had what the squire and
+his servants said wanted any further confirmation.
+
+The gamekeeper, being a suspected person, was now sent for and the
+question put to him; but he, relying on the promise which Tom had made
+him to take all upon himself, very resolutely denied being in company
+with the young gentleman, or indeed having seen him the whole
+afternoon.
+
+Mr. Allworthy then turned toward Tom with more than usual anger in his
+countenance, and advised him to confess who was with him; repeating
+that he was resolved to know. The lad, however, still maintained his
+resolution, and was dismissed with much wrath by Mr. Allworthy, who
+told him he should have the next morning to consider of it, when he
+should be questioned by another person and in another manner.
+
+Poor Jones spent a very melancholy night, and the more so as he was
+without his usual companion, for Master Blifil was gone abroad on a
+visit with his mother. Fear of the punishment he was to suffer was on
+this occasion his least evil; his chief anxiety being lest his
+constancy should fail him and he should be brought to betray the
+gamekeeper, whose ruin he knew must now be the consequence.
+
+Nor did the gamekeeper pass his time much better. He had the same
+apprehensions with the youth; for whose honor he had likewise a much
+tenderer regard than for his skin.
+
+In the morning, when Tom attended the Reverend Mr. Thwackum, the
+person to whom Mr. Allworthy had committed the instruction of the two
+boys, he had the same questions put to him by that gentleman which he
+had been asked the evening before, to which he returned the same
+answers. The consequence of this was so severe a whipping, that it
+possibly fell little short of the torture with which confessions are
+in some countries extorted from criminals.
+
+Tom bore his punishment with great resolution; and tho his master
+asked him between every stroke whether he would not confess, he was
+contented to be flayed rather than betray his friend, or break the
+promise he had made.
+
+The gamekeeper was now relieved from his anxiety, and Mr. Allworthy
+himself began to be concerned at Tom's sufferings: for besides that
+Mr. Thwackum, being highly enraged that he was not able to make the
+boy say what he himself pleased, had carried his severity much beyond
+the good man's intention, this latter began now to suspect that the
+squire had been mistaken, which his extreme eagerness and anger seemed
+to make probable; and as for what the servants had said in
+confirmation of their master's account, he laid no great stress upon
+that. Now, as cruelty and injustice were two ideas of which Mr.
+Allworthy could by no means support the consciousness a single moment,
+he sent for Tom, and after many kind and friendly exhortations, said,
+"I am convinced, my dear child, that my suspicions have wronged you; I
+am sorry that you have been so severely punished on this account"; and
+at last gave him a little horse to make him amends, again repeating
+his sorrow for what had passed.
+
+Tom's guilt now flew in his face more than any severity could make it.
+He could more easily bear the lashes of Thwackum than the generosity
+of Allworthy. The tears burst from his eyes, and he fell upon his
+knees, crying, "Oh, sir, you are too good to me. Indeed you are.
+Indeed I don't deserve it." And at that very instant, from the fulness
+of his heart, had almost betrayed the secret; but the good genius of
+the gamekeeper suggested to him what might be the consequence to the
+poor fellow, and this consideration sealed his lips.
+
+Thwackum did all he could to dissuade Allworthy from showing any
+compassion or kindness to the boy, saying "he had persisted in
+untruth"; and gave some hints that a second whipping might probably
+bring the matter to light.
+
+But Mr. Allworthy absolutely refused to consent to the experiment. He
+said the boy had suffered enough already for concealing the truth,
+even if he was guilty, seeing that he could have no motive but a
+mistaken point of honor for so doing.
+
+"Honor!" cried Thwackum with some warmth: "mere stubbornness and
+obstinacy! Can honor teach any one to tell a lie, or can any honor
+exist independent of religion?"
+
+This discourse happened at table when dinner was just ended; and there
+were present Mr. Allworthy, Mr. Thwackum, and a third gentleman.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+PARTRIDGE SEES GARRICK AT THE PLAY[19]
+
+
+Mr. Jones having spent three hours in reading and kissing the
+aforesaid letter,[20] and being, at last, in a state of good spirits,
+from the last-mentioned considerations, he agreed to carry an
+appointment, which he had before made, into execution. This was, to
+attend Mrs. Miller, and her younger daughter, into the gallery at the
+playhouse, and to admit Mr. Partridge as one of the company. For as
+Jones had really that taste for humor which many affect, he expected
+to enjoy much entertainment in the criticisms of Partridge, from whom
+he expected the simple dictates of nature, unimproved, indeed, but
+likewise unadulterated by art.
+
+In the first row then of the first gallery did Mr. Jones, Mrs. Miller,
+her youngest daughter, and Partridge take their places. Partridge
+immediately declared it was the finest place he had ever been in. When
+the first music was played, he said, "it was a wonder how so many
+fiddlers could play at one time, without putting one another out."
+While the fellow was lighting the upper candles, he cried out to Mrs.
+Miller, "Look, look, madam, the very picture of the man in the end of
+the common prayer book before the gunpowder-treason service." Nor
+could he help observing with a sigh, when all the candles were
+lighted, "That here were candles enough burned in one night to keep an
+honest poor family for a whole twelvemonth."
+
+As soon as the play, which was "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," began,
+Partridge was all attention, nor did he break silence till the
+entrance of the ghost; upon which he asked Jones, "What man that was
+in the strange dress; something," said he, "like what I have seen in
+the picture. Sure it is not armor, is it?" Jones answered, "That is
+the ghost." To which Partridge replied with a smile, "Persuade me to
+that, sir, if you can. Tho I can't say I ever actually saw a ghost in
+my life, yet I am certain I should know one, if I saw him, better than
+that comes to. No, no, sir; ghosts don't appear in such dresses as
+that, neither." In this mistake, which caused much laughter in the
+neighborhood of Partridge, he was suffered to continue, till the scene
+between the ghost and Hamlet, when Partridge gave that credit to Mr.
+Garrick, which he had denied to Jones, and fell into so violent a
+trembling that his knees knocked against each other. Jones asked him
+what was the matter, and whether he was afraid of the warrior upon the
+stage? "O la! sir," said he, "I perceive now it is what you told me. I
+am not afraid of anything; for I know it is but a play. And if it was
+really a ghost, it could do one no harm at such a distance, and in so
+much company; and yet if I was frightened, I am not the only person."
+"Why, who," cries Jones, "dost thou take to be such a coward here
+besides thyself?" "Nay, you may call me a coward if you will; but if
+that little man there upon the stage is not frightened, I never saw
+any man frightened in my life. Ay, ay: go along with you! Ay, to be
+sure! Who's fool then? Will you? lud have mercy upon such
+foolhardiness? Whatever happens, it is good enough for you. Follow
+you? I'd follow the devil as soon. Nay, perhaps it is the devil--for
+they say he can put on what likeness he pleases. Oh! here he is again.
+No farther! No, you have gone far enough already; farther than I'd
+have gone for all the king's dominions." Jones offered to speak, but
+Partridge cried, "Hush! hush! dear sir, don't you hear him?" And
+during the whole speech of the ghost, he sat with his eyes fixt partly
+on the ghost and partly on Hamlet, and with his mouth open; the same
+passions which succeeded each other in Hamlet, succeeding likewise in
+him.
+
+When the scene was over Jones said, "Why, Mr. Partridge, you exceed my
+expectations. You enjoy the play more than I conceived possible."
+"Nay, sir," answered Partridge, "if you are not afraid of the devil, I
+can't help it; but to be sure, it is natural to be surprized at such
+things, tho I know there is nothing in them: not that it was the ghost
+that surprized me, neither; for I should have known that to have been
+only a man in a strange dress; but when I saw the little man so
+frightened himself, it was that which took hold of me." "And dost thou
+imagine, then, Partridge," cries Jones, "that he was really
+frightened?" "Nay, sir," said Partridge, "did not you yourself
+observe afterward, when he found it was his own father's spirit and
+how he was murdered in the garden, how his fear forsook him by
+degrees, and he was struck dumb with sorrow, as it were, just as I
+should have been, had it been my own case? But hush! O la! what noise
+is that! There he is again. Well, to be certain, tho I know there is
+nothing at all in it, I am glad I am not down yonder, where those men
+are." Then turning his eyes again upon Hamlet, "Ay, you may draw your
+sword; what signifies a sword against the power of the devil?"
+
+During the second act Partridge made very few remarks. He greatly
+admired the fineness of the dresses; nor could he help observing upon
+the king's countenance. "Well," said he, "how people may be deceived
+by faces? _Nulla fides fronti_ is, I find, a true saying. Who would
+think, by looking in the king's face, that he had ever committed a
+murder?" He then inquired after the ghost; but Jones, who intended he
+should be surprized, gave him no other satisfaction than, "that he
+might possibly see him again soon, and in a flash of fire."
+
+Partridge sat in fearful expectation of this; and now, when the ghost
+made his next appearance, Partridge cried out, "There sir, now; what
+say you now? is he frightened now or no? As much frightened as you
+think me, and, to be sure, nobody can help some fears. I would not be
+in so bad a condition as what's his name, Squire Hamlet, is there, for
+all the world. Bless me! what's become of the spirit? As I am a living
+soul, I thought I saw him sink into the earth." "Indeed, you saw
+right," answered Jones. "Well, well," cries Partridge, "I know it is
+only a play; and besides, if there was anything in all this, Madam
+Miller would not laugh so; for as to you, sir, you would not be
+afraid, I believe, if the devil was here in person. There, there--ay,
+no wonder you are in such a passion; shake the vile wicked wretch to
+pieces. If she was my own mother, I would serve her so. To be sure all
+duty to a mother is forfeited by such wicked doings.--Ay, go about
+your business; I hate the sight of you."
+
+Our critic was now pretty silent till the play which Hamlet introduces
+before the king. This he did not at first understand, till Jones
+explained it to him; but he no sooner entered into the spirit of it,
+than he began to bless himself that he had never committed murder.
+Then turning to Mrs. Miller, he asked her, "If she did not imagine the
+king looked as if he was touched; tho he is," said he, "a good actor,
+and doth all he can to hide it. Well, I would not have so much to
+answer for, as that wicked man there hath, to sit upon a much higher
+chair than he sits upon. No wonder he run away; for your sake I'll
+never trust an innocent face again."
+
+The grave-digging scene next engaged the attention of Partridge, who
+exprest much surprize at the number of skulls thrown upon the stage.
+To which Jones answered, "That it was one of the most famous
+burial-places about town." "No wonder then," cries Partridge, "that
+the place is haunted. But I never saw in my life a worse grave-digger.
+I had a sexton, when I was clerk, that should have dug three graves
+while he is digging one. The fellow handles a spade as if it was the
+first time he had ever had one in his hand. Ay, ay, you may sing. You
+had rather sing than work, I believe." Upon Hamlet's taking up the
+skull, he cried out, "Well! it is strange to see how fearless some men
+are: I never could bring myself to touch anything belonging to a dead
+man, on any account. He seemed frightened enough too at the ghost, I
+thought. _Nemo omnibus horis sapit._"
+
+Little more worth remembering occurred during the play, at the end of
+which Jones asked him, "Which of the players he had liked best?" To
+this he answered, with some appearance of indignation at the question,
+"The king, without doubt." "Indeed, Mr. Partridge," says Mrs. Miller,
+"you are not of the same opinion with the town; for they are all
+agreed that Hamlet is acted by the best player who ever was on the
+stage." "He the best player!" cries Partridge, with a contemptuous
+sneer, "why, I could act as well as he himself. I am sure, if I had
+seen a ghost, I should have looked in the very same manner, and done
+just as he did. And then, to be sure, in that scene, as you called it,
+between him and his mother, where you told me he acted so fine, why,
+Lord help me, any man, that is, any good man, that had such a mother,
+would have done exactly the same. I know you are only joking with me;
+but indeed, madam, tho I was never to a play in London, yet I have
+seen acting before in the country; and the king for my money; he
+speaks all his words distinctly, half as loud again as the other.
+Anybody may see he is an actor."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+MR. ADAMS IN A POLITICAL LIGHT[21]
+
+
+"I do assure you, sir," says he, taking the gentleman by the hand, "I
+am heartily glad to meet with a man of your kidney; for, tho I am a
+poor parson, I will be bold to say I am an honest man, and would not
+do an ill thing to be made a bishop; nay, tho it hath not fallen in my
+way to offer so noble a sacrifice, I have not been without
+opportunities of suffering for the sake of my conscience, I thank
+heaven for them; for I have had relations, tho I say it, who made some
+figure in the world, particularly a nephew, who was a shopkeeper and
+an alderman of a corporation. He was a good lad, and was under my care
+when a boy, and I believe would do what I bade him to his dying day.
+
+"Indeed, it looks like extreme vanity in me to affect being a man of
+such consequence as to have so great an interest in an alderman; but
+others have thought so too, as manifestly appeared by the rector whose
+curate I formerly was sending for me on the approach of an election,
+and telling me if I expected to continue in his cure that I must bring
+my nephew to vote for one Colonel Courtly, a gentleman whom I had
+never heard tidings of till that instant. I told the rector I had no
+power over my nephew's vote (God forgive me for such prevarication!);
+that I supposed he would give it according to his conscience; that I
+would by no means endeavor to influence him to give it otherwise. He
+told me it was in vain to equivocate; that he knew I had already spoke
+to him in favor of Squire Fickle, my neighbor; and indeed it was true
+I had; for it was at a season when the church was in danger, and when
+all good men expected they knew not what would happen to us all. I
+then answered boldly, if he thought I had given my promise he
+affronted me in proposing any breach of it.
+
+"Not to be too prolix, I persevered, and so did my nephew, in the
+esquire's interest, who was chose chiefly through his means; and so I
+lost my curacy. Well, sir, but do you think the esquire ever mentioned
+a word of the church? _ne verbum quidem, ut ita dicam_; within two
+years he got a place, and hath ever since lived in London, where I
+have been informed (but God forbid I should believe that) that he
+never so much as goeth to church. I remained, sir, a considerable time
+without any cure, and lived a full month on one funeral sermon, which
+I preached on the indisposition of a clergyman; but this by the bye.
+
+"At last, when Mr. Fickle got his place, Colonel Courtly stood again;
+and who should make interest for him but Mr. Fickle himself! that very
+identical Mr. Fickle, who had formerly told me the colonel was an
+enemy to both the church and state, had the confidence to solicit my
+nephew for him; and the colonel himself offered me to make me chaplain
+to his regiment, which I refused in favor of Sir Oliver Hearty, who
+told us he would sacrifice everything to his country; and I believe
+he would, except his hunting, which he stuck so close to that in five
+years together he went but twice up to Parliament; and one of those
+times, I have been told, never was within sight of the House. However,
+he was a worthy man, and the best friend I ever had; for, by his
+interest with a bishop, he got me replaced into my curacy, and gave me
+eight pounds out of his own pocket to buy me a gown and cassock and
+furnish my house. He had our interest while he lived, which was not
+many years.
+
+"On his death I had fresh applications made to me; for all the world
+knew the interest I had in my good nephew, who now was a leading man
+in the corporation; and Sir Thomas Booby, buying the estate which had
+been Sir Oliver's, proposed himself a candidate. He was then a young
+gentleman just come from his travels; and it did me good to hear him
+discourse on affairs, which, for my part, I knew nothing of. If I had
+been master of a thousand votes he should have had them all.
+
+"I engaged my nephew in his interest, and he was elected; and a very
+fine Parliament-man he was. They tell me he made speeches of an hour
+long, and, I have been told, very fine ones; but he could never
+persuade the Parliament to be of his opinion. _Non omnia possumus
+omnes._ He promised me a living, poor man! and I believe I should have
+had it, but an accident happened, which was that my lady had promised
+it before, unknown to him. This indeed I never heard till afterward;
+for my nephew, who died about a month before the incumbent, always
+told me I might be assured of it.
+
+"Since that time, Sir Thomas, poor man! had always so much business
+that he never could find leisure to see me. I believe it was partly my
+lady's fault, too, who did not think my dress good enough for the
+gentry at her table. However, I must do him the justice to say he
+never was ungrateful; and I have always found his kitchen, and his
+cellar too, open to me: many a time, after service on a Sunday--for I
+preached at four churches--have I recruited my spirits with a glass of
+his ale. Since my nephew's death, the corporation is in other hands;
+and I am not a man of that consequence I was formerly. I have now no
+longer any talents to lay out in service of my country; and to whom
+nothing is given, of him can nothing be required.
+
+"However, on all proper seasons, such as the approach of an election,
+I throw a suitable dash or two into my sermons, which I have the
+pleasure to hear is not disagreeable to Sir Thomas and the other
+honest gentlemen my neighbors, who have all promised me these five
+years to procure an ordination for a son of mine, who is now near
+thirty, hath an infinite stock of learning, and is, I thank Heaven, of
+an unexceptionable life; tho, as he was never at a university, the
+bishop refuses to ordain him. Too much care can not indeed be taken in
+admitting any to the sacred office; tho I hope he will never act so as
+to be a disgrace to any order, but will serve his God and his country
+to the utmost of his power, as I have endeavored to do before him;
+nay, and will lay down his life whenever called to that purpose. I am
+sure I have educated him in those principles; so that I have acquitted
+my duty, and shall have nothing to answer for on that account. But I
+do not distrust him, for he is a good boy; and if Providence should
+throw it in his way to be of as much consequence in a public light as
+his father once was, I can answer for him he will use his talents as
+honestly as I have done."
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 18: From "Tom Jones, a Foundling," Book 3, Chapter 2.]
+
+[Footnote 19: From Book 16, Chapter 5, of "The History of Tom Jones, a
+Foundling."]
+
+[Footnote 20: This was a letter from Sophia Weston, hoping "that
+Fortune may be sometime kinder to us than at present."]
+
+[Footnote 21: From Book 2, Chapter 8, of "The Adventures of Joseph
+Andrews."]
+
+
+
+
+SAMUEL JOHNSON
+
+     Born in 1709, died in 1784; son of a bookseller; educated at
+     Oxford, where he made a translation into Latin of Pope's
+     "Messiah"; established a school near Lichfield in 1736,
+     which soon failed; among its pupils David Garrick, with whom
+     he went to London in 1737; issued the plan of his
+     "Dictionary" in 1747, and published it in two volumes in
+     1755; published "The Vanity of Human Wishes" in 1749;
+     started _The Rambler_, a periodical, in 1750; writing nearly
+     the whole of it; wrote "Rasselas" in 1759; went to Scotland
+     with Boswell in 1773; published an edition of Shakespeare in
+     1765.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+ON PUBLISHING HIS "DICTIONARY"[22]
+
+
+It is the fate of those who toil at the lower employments of life to
+be rather driven by the fear of evil than attracted by the prospect of
+good; to be exposed to censure without hope of praise; to be disgraced
+by miscarriage, or punished for neglect, where success would have been
+without applause, and diligence without reward.
+
+Among these unhappy mortals is the writer of dictionaries; whom
+mankind have considered, not as the pupil, but the slave of science,
+the pioneer of literature, doomed only to remove rubbish and clear
+obstructions from the paths through which learning and genius press
+forward to conquest and glory, without bestowing a smile on the humble
+drudge that facilitates their progress. Every other author may aspire
+to praise; the lexicographer can only hope to escape reproach, and
+even this negative recompense has been yet granted to very few....
+
+In hope of giving longevity to that which its own nature forbids to be
+immortal, I have devoted this book, the labor of years, to the honor
+of my country, that we may no longer yield the palm of philology
+without a contest to the nations of the continent. The chief glory of
+every people arises from its authors: whether I shall add anything by
+my own writings to the reputation of English literature, must be left
+to time; much of my life has been lost under the pressures of disease;
+much has been trifled away; and much has always been spent in
+provision for the day that was passing over me; but I shall not think
+my employment useless or ignoble if, by my assistance, foreign nations
+and distant ages gain access to the propagators of knowledge, and
+understand the teachers of truth; if my labors afford light to the
+repositories of science, and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to
+Milton, and to Boyle.
+
+When I am animated by this wish, I look with pleasure on my book,
+however defective, and deliver it to the world with the spirit of a
+man that has endeavored well. That it will immediately become popular,
+I have not promised to myself; a few wild blunders and risible
+absurdities, from which no work of such multiplicity was ever free,
+may for a time furnish folly with laughter, and harden ignorance into
+contempt; but useful diligence will at last prevail, and there never
+can be wanting some who distinguish desert, who will consider that no
+dictionary of a living tongue ever can be perfect, since, while it is
+hastening to publication, some words are budding and some falling
+away; that a whole life can not be spent upon syntax and etymology,
+and that even a whole life would not be sufficient; that he whose
+design includes whatever language can express, must often speak of
+what he does not understand; that a writer will sometimes be hurried
+by eagerness to the end, and sometimes faint with weariness under a
+task which Scaliger compares to the labors of the anvil and the mine;
+that what is obvious is not always known, and what is known is not
+always present; that sudden fits of inadvertency will surprize
+vigilance, slight avocations will seduce attention, and casual
+eclipses of the mind will darken learning; and that the writer shall
+often in vain trace his memory at the moment of need for that which
+yesterday he knew with intuitive readiness, and which will come
+uncalled into his thoughts tomorrow.
+
+In this work, when it shall be found that much is omitted, let it not
+be forgotten that much likewise is performed; and tho no book was ever
+spared out of tenderness to the author, and the world is little
+solicitous to know whence proceeded the faults of that which it
+condemns, yet it may gratify curiosity to inform it, that the English
+Dictionary was written with little assistance of the learned, and
+without any patronage of the great; not in the soft obscurities of
+retirement, or under the shelter of academic bowers, but amid
+inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow. It may
+repress the triumph of malignant criticism to observe, that if our
+language is not here fully displayed, I have only failed in an attempt
+which no human powers have hitherto completed. If the lexicons of
+ancient tongues, now immutably fixt, and comprized in a few volumes,
+be yet, after the toil of successive ages, inadequate and delusive; if
+the aggregated knowledge and cooperating diligence of the Italian
+academicians did not secure them from the censure of Beni;[23] if the
+embodied critics of France, when fifty years had been spent upon their
+work, were obliged to change its economy, and give their second
+edition another form, I may surely be contented without the praise of
+perfection, which if I could obtain in this gloom of solitude, what
+would it avail me? I have protracted my work till most of those whom I
+wished to please have sunk into the grave, and success and miscarriage
+are empty sounds. I therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity,
+having little to fear or hope from censure or from praise.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+POPE AND DRYDEN COMPARED[24]
+
+
+Pope profest to have learned his poetry from Dryden, whom, whenever an
+opportunity was presented, he praised through his whole life with
+unvaried liberality; and perhaps his character may receive some
+illustration, if he be compared with his master.
+
+Integrity of understanding and nicety of discernment were not allotted
+in a less proportion to Dryden than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's
+mind was sufficiently shown by the dismission of his poetical
+prejudices, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged
+numbers. But Dryden never desired to apply all the judgment that he
+had. He wrote, and profest to write, merely for the people; and when
+he pleased others he contented himself. He spent no time in struggles
+to rouse latent powers; he never attempted to make that better which
+was already good, not often to mend what he must have known to be
+faulty. He wrote, as he tells us, with very little consideration; when
+occasion or necessity called upon him, he poured out what the present
+moment happened to supply, and, when once it had passed the press,
+ejected it from his mind; for when he had no pecuniary interest, he
+had no further solicitude.
+
+Pope was not content to satisfy: he desired to excel, and therefore
+always endeavored to do his best: he did not court the candor, but
+dared the judgment of his reader, and expecting no indulgence from
+others, he showed none to himself. He examined lines and words with
+minute and punctilious observation, and retouched every part with
+indefatigable diligence, till he had left nothing to be forgiven.
+
+For this reason he kept his pieces very long in his hands, while he
+considered and reconsidered them. The only poems which can be
+supposed to have been written with such regard to the times as might
+hasten their publication, were the two satires of "Thirty-eight," of
+which Dodsley[25] told me that they were brought to him by the author
+that they might be fairly copied. "Almost every line," he said, "was
+then written twice over. I gave him a clean transcript, which he sent
+some time afterward to me for the press with almost every line written
+twice over a second time."
+
+His declaration, that his care for his works ceased at their
+publication, was not strictly true. His parental attention never
+abandoned them; what he found amiss in the first edition, he silently
+corrected in those that followed. He appears to have revised the
+"Iliad," and freed it from some of its imperfections; and the "Essay
+on Criticism" received many improvements after its first appearance.
+It will seldom be found that he altered without adding clearness,
+elegance, or vigor.
+
+Pope had perhaps the judgment of Dryden, but Dryden certainly wanted
+the diligence of Pope.
+
+In acquired knowledge the superiority must be allowed to Dryden, whose
+education was more scholastic, and who, before he became an author,
+had been allowed more time for study, with better means of
+information. His mind has a larger range, and he collects his images
+and illustrations from a more extensive circumference of science.
+Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local
+manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive
+speculation, and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more
+dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of
+Pope.
+
+Poetry was not the sole praise of either; for both excelled likewise
+in prose; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The
+style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and
+uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains his
+mind to his own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and
+rapid, Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is a
+natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied
+exuberance of abundant vegetation; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by
+the scythe, and leveled by the roller.
+
+Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet, that quality without
+which judgment is cold and knowledge is inert, that energy which
+collects, combines, amplifies, and animates, the superiority must,
+with some hesitation, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred,
+that of this poetical vigor Pope had only a little because Dryden had
+more; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope; and
+even of Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs, he
+has not better poems. Dryden's performances were always hasty, either
+excited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestic necessity;
+he composed without consideration, and published without correction.
+What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was
+all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope
+enabled him to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and
+to accumulate all that study might produce or chance might supply. If
+the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope continues longer on
+the wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the
+heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation,
+and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent
+astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+LETTER TO CHESTERFIELD ON THE COMPLETION OF THE "DICTIONARY"[26]
+
+
+My Lord: I have been lately informed by the proprietor of the _World_
+that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public,
+were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honor,
+which, being very little accustomed to favors from the great, I know
+not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge.
+
+When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I
+was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your
+address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself _le
+vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre_--that I might obtain that regard
+for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so
+little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to
+continue it. When I had once addrest your Lordship in public, I had
+exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly
+scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well
+pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.
+
+Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward
+rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been
+pushing on my work through difficulties of which it is useless to
+complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication,
+without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile
+of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron
+before.
+
+The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found
+him a native of the rocks.
+
+Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man
+struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground,
+encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to
+take of my labors, had it been early had been kind: but it has been
+delayed till I am indifferent, and can not enjoy it; till I am
+solitary, and can not 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.
+
+Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any
+favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed tho I should conclude
+it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from
+that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much
+exultation, my lord,
+
+Your Lordship's most humble, most obedient servant,
+
+SAM. JOHNSON.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+ON THE ADVANTAGES OF LIVING IN A GARRET[27]
+
+
+Nothing has more retarded the advancement of learning than the
+disposition of vulgar minds to ridicule and vilify what they can not
+comprehend. All industry must be excited by hope; and as the student
+often proposes no other reward to himself than praise, he is easily
+discouraged by contempt and insult. He who brings with him into a
+clamorous multitude the timidity of recluse speculation, and has never
+hardened his front in public life, or accustomed his passions to the
+vicissitudes and accidents, the triumphs and defeats of mixt
+conversation, will blush at the stare of petulant incredulity, and
+suffer himself to be driven, by a burst of laughter, from the
+fortresses of demonstration. The mechanist will be afraid to assert
+before hardy contradictions the possibility of tearing down bulwarks
+with a silkworm's thread; and the astronomer of relating the rapidity
+of light, the distance of the fixt stars, and the height of the lunar
+mountains.
+
+If I could by any efforts have shaken off this cowardice, I had not
+sheltered myself under a borrowed name, nor applied to you for the
+means of communicating to the public the theory of a garret; a subject
+which, except some slight and transient strictures, has been hitherto
+neglected by those who were best qualified to adorn it, either for
+want of leisure to prosecute the various researches in which a nice
+discussion must engage them, or because it requires such diversity of
+knowledge, and such extent of curiosity, as is scarcely to be found in
+any single intellect; or perhaps others foresaw the tumults which
+would be raised against them, and confined their knowledge to their
+own breasts, and abandoned prejudice and folly to the direction of
+chance.
+
+That the professors of literature generally reside in the highest
+stories has been immemorially observed. The wisdom of the ancients was
+well acquainted with the intellectual advantages of an elevated
+situation; why else were the Muses stationed on Olympus, or Parnassus,
+by those who could with equal right have raised them bowers in the
+vale of Tempe, or erected their altars among the flexures of Meander?
+Why was Jove himself nursed upon a mountain? or why did the goddesses,
+when the prize of beauty was contested, try the cause upon the top of
+Ida? Such were the fictions by which the great masters of the earlier
+ages endeavored to inculcate to posterity the importance of a garret,
+which, tho they had been long obscured by the negligence and ignorance
+of succeeding times, were well enforced by the celebrated symbol of
+Pythagoras, "when the wind blows, worship its echo." This could not
+but be understood by his disciples as an inviolable injunction to live
+in a garret, which I have found frequently visited by the echo and the
+wind. Nor was the tradition wholly obliterated in the age of Augustus,
+for Tibullus evidently congratulates himself upon his garret, not
+without some allusion to the Pythagorean precept:
+
+    How sweet in sleep to pass the careless hours,
+    Lull'd by the beating winds and dashing showers!
+
+And it is impossible not to discover the fondness of Lucretius, an
+early writer, for a garret, in his description of the lofty towers of
+serene learning, and of the pleasure with which a wise man looks down
+upon the confused and erratic state of the world moving below him:
+
+    ... 'Tis sweet thy laboring steps to guide
+    To virtue's heights, with wisdom well supplied,
+    And all the magazines of learning fortified:
+    From thence to look below on human kind,
+    Bewilder'd in the maze of life, and blind.[28]
+
+The institution has, indeed, continued to our own time; the garret is
+still the usual receptacle of the philosopher and poet; but this, like
+many ancient customs, is perpetuated only by an accidental imitation,
+without knowledge of the original reason for which it was established:
+
+     The cause is secret, but th' effect is known.
+
+Conjectures have, indeed, been advanced concerning these habitations
+of literature, but without much satisfaction to the judicious
+inquirer. Some have imagined that the garret is generally chosen by
+the wits as most easily rented; and concluded that no man rejoices in
+his aerial abode, but on the days of payment. Others suspect that a
+garret is chiefly convenient, as it is remoter than any other part of
+the house from the outer door, which is often observed to be infested
+by visitants, who talk incessantly of beer, or linen, or a coat, and
+repeat the same sounds every morning, and sometimes again in the
+afternoon, without any variation, except that they grow daily more
+importunate and clamorous, and raise their voices in time from
+mournful murmurs to raging vociferations. This eternal monotony is
+always detestable to a man whose chief pleasure is to enlarge his
+knowledge, and vary his ideas. Others talk of freedom from noise, and
+abstraction from common business or amusements; and some, yet more
+visionary, tell us that the faculties are enlarged by open prospects,
+and that the fancy is more at liberty when the eye ranges without
+confinement.
+
+These conveniences may perhaps all be found in a well-chosen garret;
+but surely they can not be supposed sufficiently important to have
+operated invariably upon different climates, distant ages, and
+separate nations. Of a universal practise, there must still be
+presumed a universal cause, which, however recondite and abstruse, may
+be perhaps reserved to make me illustrious by its discovery, and you
+by its promulgation.
+
+It is universally known that the faculties of the mind are invigorated
+or weakened by the state of the body, and that the body is in a great
+measure regulated by the various compressions of the ambient element.
+The effects of the air in the production or cure of corporeal
+maladies have been acknowledged from the time of Hippocrates; but no
+man has yet sufficiently considered how far it may influence the
+operations of the genius, tho every day affords instances of local
+understanding, of wits and reasoners, whose faculties are adapted to
+some single spot, and who, when they are removed to any other place,
+sink at once into silence and stupidity. I have discovered by a long
+series of observations that invention and elocution suffer great
+impediments from dense and impure vapors, and that the tenuity of a
+defecated air at a proper distance from the surface of the earth
+accelerates the fancy and sets at liberty those intellectual powers
+which were before shackled by too strong attraction, and unable to
+expand themselves under the pressure of a gross atmosphere. I have
+found dulness to quicken into sentiment in a thin ether, as water, tho
+not very hot, boils in a receiver partly exhausted; and heads, in
+appearance empty, have teemed with notions upon rising ground, as the
+flaccid sides of a football would have swelled out into stiffness and
+extension.
+
+For this reason I never think myself qualified to judge decisively of
+any man's faculties, whom I have only known in one degree of
+elevation; but take some opportunity of attending him from the cellar
+to the garret, and try upon him all the various degrees of rarefaction
+and condensation, tension and laxity. If he is neither vivacious
+aloft, nor serious below, I then consider him as hopeless; but as it
+seldom happens that I do not find the temper to which the texture of
+his brain is fitted, I accommodate him in time with a tube of mercury,
+first marking the point most favorable to his intellects, according
+to rules which I have long studied, and which I may perhaps reveal to
+mankind in a complete treatise of barometrical pneumatology.
+
+Another cause of the gaiety and sprightliness of the dwellers in
+garrets is probably the increase of that vertiginous motion, with
+which we are carried round by the diurnal revolution of the earth. The
+power of agitation upon the spirits is well known; every man has felt
+his heart lightened in a rapid vehicle, or on a galloping horse; and
+nothing is plainer than that he who towers to the fifth story is
+whirled through more space by every circumrotation, than another that
+grovels upon the ground floor. The nations between the tropics are
+known to be fiery, inconstant, inventive, and fanciful, because,
+living at the utmost length of the earth's diameter, they are carried
+about with more swiftness than those whom nature has placed nearer to
+the poles; and, therefore, as it becomes a wise man to struggle with
+the inconveniences of his country, whenever celerity and acuteness are
+requisite, we must actuate our languor by taking a few turns round the
+center in a garret.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 22: From the Preface to the "Dictionary."]
+
+[Footnote 23: Paul Beni was an Italian literary critic, who was born
+in 1552, and died in 1625. He was a professor of theology, philosophy
+and belles-lettres. The severity of his criticisms created many
+enemies. He supported Tasso as against the Della Cruscans.]
+
+[Footnote 24: From the "Lives of the Poets."]
+
+[Footnote 25: Robert Dodsley, publisher, bookseller and author, was
+born about 1703 and died in 1764.]
+
+[Footnote 26: The date of this famous letter--perhaps now the most
+famous of all Johnson's writings--is February 7, 1755. Leslie Stephen
+has probably said the most definite word as to the circumstances in
+which it was written, and in its justification. Johnson and
+Chesterfield at one time were friendly. The first offense on
+Chesterfield's part is said to have been caused by a reception
+accorded to Colley Cibber, while Johnson was kept waiting in an
+anteroom: this, however, has been denied by Boswell on the authority
+of Johnson himself. There seems to be no doubt that Chesterfield
+neglected Johnson while he was struggling with the "Dictionary." The
+articles which he wrote for the _World_, to which the first sentence
+in the letter refers, are believed to have been written with a view to
+securing from Johnson a dedication of the "Dictionary" to himself. Mr.
+Stephen remarks on the "singular dignity and energy" of Johnson's
+letter. Johnson did not make it public in his own lifetime, but
+ultimately gave copies of it to two of his friends, one of whom was
+Boswell. Boswell published it in his "Life of Johnson," and deposited
+the original in the British Museum. Chesterfield made no reply to the
+letter, but, in conversation with Dodsley, the bookseller, a friend of
+both men, said he had always been ready to receive Johnson, and blamed
+Johnson's pride and shyness for the outcome of the acquaintance.
+Chesterfield was long thought to have referred to Johnson as a
+"respectable Hottentot," this being on the authority of Boswell, but
+Dr. Birkbeck Hill has shown that this was not true. Mr. Stephen
+declares that Johnson's letter "justifies itself," and that no author
+can fail to sympathize with his declaration of literary
+independence.]
+
+[Footnote 27: From No. 117 of _The Rambler._]
+
+[Footnote 28: This translation of the passage from Lucretius is
+Dryden's.]
+
+
+
+
+DAVID HUME
+
+     Born in 1711, died in 1776; educated at Edinburgh; lived in
+     France from 1734 to 1737; accompanied Gen. St. Clair on an
+     embassy to Vienna and Turin as judge-advocate; appointed
+     keeper of the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh in 1752;
+     visited France again in 1763; Under-secretary of State in
+     1767; published his treatise on "Human Nature" in 1739; his
+     "Essays" in 1741; his "Human Understanding" in 1748; his
+     "History of England" in 1754-61.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE CHARACTER OF QUEEN ELIZABETH[29]
+
+
+So dark a cloud overcast the evening of that day, which had shone out
+with a mighty luster in the eyes of all Europe! There are few great
+personages in history who have been more exposed to the calumny of
+enemies and the adulation of friends than Queen Elizabeth; and yet
+there is scarcely any whose reputation has been more certainly
+determined by the unanimous consent of posterity. The unusual length
+of her administration, and the strong features of her character, were
+able to overcome all prejudices; and obliging her detractors to abate
+much of their invectives, and her admirers somewhat of their
+panegyrics, have at last, in spite of political factions, and what is
+more, of religious animosities, produced a uniform judgment with
+regard to her conduct. Her vigor, her constancy, her magnanimity, her
+penetration, vigilance, and address are allowed to merit the highest
+praises, and appear not to have been surpassed by any person that ever
+filled a throne: a conduct less rigorous, less imperious, more
+sincere, more indulgent to her people, would have been requisite to
+form a perfect character. By the force of her mind she controlled all
+her more active and stronger qualities, and prevented them from
+running into excess: her heroism was exempt from temerity, her
+frugality from avarice, her friendship from partiality, her active
+temper from turbulency and a vain ambition: she guarded not herself
+with equal care or equal success from lesser infirmities--the
+rivalship of beauty, the desire of admiration, the jealousy of love,
+and the sallies of anger.
+
+Her singular talents for government were founded equally on her temper
+and on her capacity. Endowed with a great command over herself, she
+soon obtained an uncontrolled ascendent over her people; and while she
+merited all their esteem by her real virtues, she also engaged their
+affections by her pretended ones. Few sovereigns of England succeeded
+to the throne in more difficult circumstances; and none ever conducted
+the government with such uniform success and felicity. Tho
+unacquainted with the practise of toleration--the true secret for
+managing religious factions--she preserved her people, by her superior
+prudence, from those confusions in which theological controversy had
+involved all the neighboring nations: and tho her enemies were the
+most powerful princes of Europe, the most active, the most
+enterprising, the least scrupulous, she was able by her vigor to make
+deep impressions on their states; her own greatness meanwhile remained
+untouched and unimpaired.
+
+The wise ministers and brave warriors who flourished under her reign,
+share the praise of her success; but instead of lessening the applause
+due to her, they make great addition to it. They owed, all of them,
+their advancement to her choice; they were supported by her constancy,
+and with all their abilities they were never able to acquire any undue
+ascendant over her. In her family, in her court, in her kingdom, she
+remained equally mistress: the force of the tender passions was great
+over her, but the force of her mind was still superior; and the combat
+which her victory visibly cost her, serves only to display the
+firmness of her resolution, and the loftiness of her ambitious
+sentiments.
+
+The fame of this princess, tho it has surmounted the prejudices both
+of faction and bigotry, yet lies still exposed to another prejudice,
+which is more durable because more natural, and which, according to
+the different views in which we survey her, is capable either of
+exalting beyond measure or diminishing the luster of her character.
+This prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sex. When we
+contemplate her as a woman, we are apt to be struck with the highest
+admiration of her great qualities and extensive capacity; but we are
+also apt to require some more softness of disposition, some greater
+lenity of temper, some of those amiable weaknesses by which her sex is
+distinguished. But the true method of estimating her merit is to lay
+aside all these considerations, and consider her merely as a rational
+being placed in authority, and intrusted with the government of
+mankind. We may find it difficult to reconcile our fancy to her as a
+wife or a mistress; but her qualities as a sovereign, tho with some
+considerable exceptions, are the object of undisputed applause and
+approbation.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA[30]
+
+
+The Lizard was the first land made by the Armada, about sunset; and as
+the Spaniards took it for the Ramhead near Plymouth, they bore out to
+sea with an intention of returning next day, and attacking the English
+navy. They were descried by Fleming, a Scottish pirate, who was roving
+in those seas, and who immediately set sail to inform the English
+admiral of their approach, another fortunate event which contributed
+extremely to the safety of the fleet. Effingham[31] had just time to
+get out of port, when he saw the Spanish Armada coming full sail
+toward him, disposed in the form of a crescent, and stretching the
+distance of seven miles from the extremity of one division to that of
+the other.
+
+The writers of that age raise their style by a pompous description of
+this spectacle; the most magnificent that had ever appeared upon the
+ocean, infusing equal terror and admiration into the minds of all
+beholders. The lofty masts, the swelling sails, and the towering prows
+of the Spanish galleons seem impossible to be justly painted, but by
+assuming the colors of poetry; and an eloquent historian of Italy, in
+imitation of Camden, has asserted that the Armada, tho the ships bore
+every sail, yet advanced with a slow motion; as if the ocean groaned
+with supporting, and the winds were tired with impelling, so enormous
+a weight. The truth, however, is, that the largest of the Spanish
+vessels would scarcely pass for third rates in the present navy of
+England; yet were they so ill framed or so ill governed, that they
+were quite unwieldy, and could not sail upon a wind, nor tack on
+occasion, nor be managed in stormy weather, by the seamen. Neither the
+mechanics of shipbuilding, nor the experience of mariners, had
+attained so great perfection as could serve for the security and
+government of such bulky vessels; and the English, who had already had
+experience how unserviceable they commonly were, beheld without dismay
+their tremendous appearance.
+
+Effingham gave orders not to come to close fight with the Spaniards;
+where the size of the ships, he inspected, and the numbers of the
+soldiers, would be a disadvantage to the English; but to cannonade
+them at a distance, and to wait the opportunity which winds, currents,
+or various accidents, must afford him, of intercepting some scattered
+vessels of the enemy. Nor was it long before the event answered
+expectation. A great ship of Biscay, on board of which was a
+considerable part of the Spanish money, took fire by accident; and
+while all hands were employed in extinguishing the flames, she fell
+behind the rest of the Armada. The great galleon of Andalusia was
+detained by the springing of her mast, and both these vessels were
+taken, after some resistance, by Sir Francis Drake. As the Armada
+advanced up the channel, the English hung upon its rear, and still
+infested it with skirmishes. Each trial abated the confidence of the
+Spaniards, and added courage to the English; and the latter soon
+found, that even in close fight the size of the Spanish ships was no
+advantage to them. Their bulk exposed them the more to the fire of the
+enemy; while their cannon, placed too high, shot over the heads of the
+English. The alarm having now reached the coast of England, the
+nobility and gentry hastened out with their vessels from every harbor,
+and reenforced the admiral. The Earls of Oxford, Northumberland, and
+Cumberland, Sir Thomas Cecil, Sir Robert Cecil, Sir Walter Raleigh,
+Sir Thomas Vavasor, Sir Thomas Gerrard, Sir Charles Blount, with many
+others, distinguished themselves by this generous and disinterested
+service of their country. The English fleet, after the conjunction of
+those ships, amounted to a hundred and forty sail.
+
+The Armada had now reached Calais, and cast anchor before that place
+in expectation that the Duke of Parma, who had gotten intelligence of
+their approach, would put to sea and join his forces to them. The
+English admiral practised here a successful stratagem upon the
+Spaniards. He took eight of his smaller ships, and filling them with
+all combustible materials, sent them one after another into the midst
+of the enemy. The Spaniards fancied that they were fireships of the
+same contrivance with a famous vessel which had lately done so much
+execution in the Schelde near Antwerp; and they immediately cut their
+cables, and took to flight with the greatest disorder and
+precipitation. The English fell upon them next morning while in
+confusion; and besides doing great damage to other ships, they took or
+destroyed about twelve of the enemy.
+
+By this time it was become apparent, that the intention for which
+these preparations were made by the Spaniards was entirely frustrated.
+The vessels provided by the Duke of Parma were made for transporting
+soldiers, not for fighting; and that general, when urged to leave the
+harbor, positively refused to expose his flourishing army to such
+apparent hazard; while the English not only were able to keep the sea,
+but seemed even to triumph over their enemy. The Spanish admiral
+found, in many recounters, that while he lost so considerable a part
+of his own navy, he had destroyed only one small vessel of the
+English; and he foresaw that by continuing so unequal a combat, he
+must draw inevitable destruction on all the remainder. He prepared
+therefore to return homeward; but as the wind was contrary to his
+passage through the channel, he resolved to sail northward, and making
+the tour of the island, reach the Spanish harbors by the ocean. The
+English fleet followed him during some time; and had not their
+ammunition fallen short, by the negligence of the officers in
+supplying them, they had obliged the whole Armada to surrender at
+discretion. The Duke of Medina[32] had once taken that resolution; but
+was diverted from it by the advice of his confessor. This conclusion
+of the enterprise would have been more glorious to the English; but
+the event proved almost equally fatal to the Spaniards. A violent
+tempest overtook the Armada after it passed the Orkneys. The ships had
+already lost their anchors, and were obliged to keep to sea. The
+mariners, unaccustomed to such hardships, and not able to govern such
+unwieldy vessels, yielded to the fury of the storm, and allowed their
+ships to drive either on the western isles of Scotland, or on the
+coast of Ireland, where they were miserably wrecked. Not a half of the
+navy returned to Spain; and the seamen as well as soldiers who
+remained were so overcome with hardships and fatigue, and so
+dispirited by their discomfiture, that they filled all Spain with
+accounts of the desperate valor of the English, and of the tempestuous
+violence of that ocean which surrounds them.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT
+
+
+Nothing appears more surprizing to those who consider human affairs
+with a philosophical eye than the easiness with which the many are
+governed by the few; and the implicit submission with which men resign
+their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers. When we
+inquire by what means this wonder is effected, we shall find that as
+Force is always on the side of the governed, the governors have
+nothing to support them but opinion. It is, therefore, on opinion only
+that government is founded; and this maxim extends to the most
+despotic and most military governments, as well as to the most free
+and most popular. The soldan of Egypt, or the emperor of Rome, might
+drive his harmless subjects, like brute beasts, against their
+sentiments and inclination; but he must, at least, have led his
+mamelukes, or prætorian bands, like men, by their opinions.
+
+Opinion is of two kinds, to wit, opinion of interest, and opinion of
+right. By opinion of interest, I chiefly understand the sense of the
+general advantage which is reaped from government, together with the
+persuasion that the particular government, which is established, is
+equally advantageous with any other that could easily be settled. When
+this opinion prevails among the generality of a state, or among those
+who have the force in their hands, it will give great security to any
+government.
+
+Right is of two kinds, right to Power and right to Property. What
+prevalence opinion of the first kind has over mankind may easily be
+understood by observing the attachment which all nations have to their
+ancient government, and even to those names which have had the
+sanction of antiquity. Antiquity always begets the opinion of right;
+and whatever disadvantageous sentiments we may entertain of mankind,
+they are always found to be prodigal both of blood and treasure in the
+maintenance of public justice. There is, indeed, no particular in
+which, at first sight, there may appear a greater contradiction in the
+frame of the human mind than the present. When men act in a faction,
+they are apt, without shame or remorse, to neglect all the ties of
+honor and morality, in order to serve their party; and yet when a
+faction is formed upon a point of right or principle, there is no
+occasion where men discover a greater obstinacy, and a more determined
+sense of justice and equity. The same social disposition of mankind is
+the cause of these contradictory appearances.
+
+It is sufficiently understood that the opinion of right to property is
+of moment in all matters of government. A noted author has made
+property the foundation of all government; and most of our political
+writers seem inclined to follow him in that particular. This is
+carrying the matter too far; but still it must be owned that the
+opinion of right to property has a great influence in this subject.
+
+Upon these three opinions, therefore, of public interest, of right to
+power, and of right to property, are all governments founded, and all
+authority of the few over the many. There are, indeed, other
+principles, which add force to these, and determine, limit, or alter
+their operation--such as self-interest, fear, and affection; but still
+we may assert that these other principles can have no influence alone,
+but suppose the antecedent influence of those opinions above
+mentioned. They are, therefore, to be esteemed the secondary, not the
+original principles of government.
+
+For, first, as to self-interest, by which I mean the expectation of
+particular rewards, distinct from the general protection which we
+receive from government, it is evident that the magistrate's authority
+must be antecedently established, at least be hoped for, in order to
+produce this expectation. The prospect of reward may augment his
+authority with regard to some particular persons; but can never give
+birth to it, with regard to the public. Men naturally look for the
+greatest favors from their friends and acquaintance; and, therefore,
+the hopes of any considerable number of the state would never center
+in any particular set of men, if these men had no other title to
+magistracy, and had no separate influence over the opinions of
+mankind. The same observation may be extended to the other two
+principles of fear and affection. No man would have any reason to fear
+the fury of a tyrant, if he had no authority over any but from fear;
+since, as a single man, his bodily force can reach but a small way,
+and all the further power he possesses must be founded either on our
+own opinion, or on the presumed opinion of others. And tho affection
+to wisdom and virtue in a sovereign extends very far, and has great
+influence, yet he must antecedently be supposed invested with a public
+character, otherwise the public esteem will serve him in no stead, nor
+will his virtue have any influence beyond a narrow sphere.
+
+A government may endure for several ages, tho the balance of power and
+the balance of property do not coincide. This chiefly happens where
+any rank or order of the state has acquired a large share in the
+property; but, from the original constitution of the government, has
+no share in the power. Under what pretense would any individual of
+that order assume authority in public affairs? As men are commonly
+much attached to their ancient government, it is not to be expected
+that the public would ever favor such usurpations. But where the
+original constitution allows any share of power, tho small, to an
+order of men, who possess a large share of the property, it is easy
+for them gradually to stretch their authority, and bring the balance
+of power to coincide with that of property. This has been the case
+with the House of Commons in England.
+
+Most writers that have treated of the British Government have supposed
+that, as the Lower House represents all the commons of Great Britain,
+its weight in the scale is proportioned to the property and power of
+all whom it represents. But this principle must not be received as
+absolutely true. For tho the people are apt to attach themselves more
+to the House of Commons than to any other member of the constitution,
+the House being chosen by them as their representatives, and as the
+public guardians of their liberty, yet are there instances where the
+House, even when in opposition to the crown, has not been followed by
+the people; as we may particularly observe of the Tory House of
+Commons in the reign of King William. Were the members obliged to
+receive instructions from their constituents, like the Dutch deputies,
+this would entirely alter the case; and if such immense power and
+riches, as those of all the commons of Great Britain, were brought
+into the scale, it is not easy to conceive that the crown could either
+influence that multitude of people, or withstand that balance of
+property. It is true the crown has great influence over the collective
+body in the elections of members; but were this influence, which at
+present is only exerted once in seven years, to be employed in
+bringing over the people to every vote, it would soon be wasted, and
+no skill, popularity, or revenue could support it. I must, therefore,
+be of opinion that an alteration in this particular would introduce a
+total alteration in our government, and would soon reduce it to a pure
+republic--and, perhaps, to a republic of no inconvenient form. For tho
+the people, collected in a body like the Roman tribes, be quite unfit
+for government, yet, when dispersed in small bodies, they are more
+susceptible both of reason and order; the force of popular currents
+and tides is, in a great measure, broken; and the public interest may
+be pursued with some method and constancy. But it is needless to
+reason any further concerning a form of government which is never
+likely to have place.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 29: From Chapter 44 of the "History of England."]
+
+[Footnote 30: From Chapter 42 of the "History of England."]
+
+[Footnote 31: Lord Howard, of Effingham, admiral of the English
+fleet.]
+
+[Footnote 32: The Duke of Medina-Sidonia commanded the Armada, as
+successor to Santa Cruz, "the ablest seaman of Spain," who had died
+just as the ships were ready to sail. Medina-Sidonia is understood to
+have taken the command reluctantly, as if aware of his unfitness for
+so great a task, as indeed was proved by the event.]
+
+
+
+
+LAURENCE STERNE
+
+     Born in 1713, died in 1768; his father an officer in one of
+     Marlborough's regiments; educated at Cambridge, admitted to
+     holy orders in 1738; became Prebendary of York, published
+     "Tristram Shandy" in 1760; visited France in 1762 and Italy
+     in 1765; published "The Sentimental Journey" in 1768, and
+     died the same year.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE STARLING IN CAPTIVITY[33]
+
+
+And as for the Bastile, the terror is in the word. Make the most of it
+you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a
+tower, and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out
+of. Mercy on the gouty! for they are in it twice a year; but with nine
+livres a day, and pen, and ink, and paper, and patience, albeit a man
+can't get out, he may do very well within, at least for a month or six
+weeks; at the end of which, if he is a harmless fellow, his innocence
+appears, and he comes out a better and wiser man than he went in.
+
+I had some occasion--I forget what--to step into the courtyard as I
+settled this account; and remember I walked down-stairs in no small
+triumph with the conceit of my reasoning. Beshrew the somber pencil,
+said I vauntingly, for I envy not its powers, which paints the evils
+of life with so hard and deadly a coloring. The mind sits terrified
+at the objects she has magnified herself and blackened: reduce them to
+their proper size and hue, she overlooks them. "'Tis true," said I,
+correcting the proposition, "the Bastile is not an evil to be
+despised; but strip it of its towers, fill up the fosse, unbarricade
+the doors, call it simply a confinement, and suppose 'tis some tyrant
+of a distemper and not of a man which holds you in it, the evil
+vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint." I was
+interrupted in the heyday of this soliloquy with a voice which I took
+to be of a child, which complained "it could not get out." I looked up
+and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman nor child, I went
+out without further attention.
+
+In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated
+twice over; and looking up I saw it was a starling hung in a little
+cage; "I can't get out, I can't get out," said the starling. I stood
+looking at the bird; and to every person who came through the passage,
+it ran fluttering to the side toward which they approached it, with
+the same lamentation of its captivity: "I can't get out," said the
+starling. "God help thee!" said I, "but I'll let thee out, cost what
+it will"; so I turned about the cage to get the door. It was twisted
+and double-twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open
+without pulling the cage to pieces. I took both hands to it. The bird
+flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and
+thrusting his head through the trellis, prest his breast against it as
+if impatient. "I fear, poor creature," said I, "I can not set thee at
+liberty." "No," said the starling, "I can't get out; I can't get
+out," said the starling. I vow I never had my affections more
+tenderly awakened; or do I remember an incident in my life where the
+dissipated spirits, to which my reason had been a bubble, were so
+suddenly called home. Mechanical as the notes were, yet so true in
+tune to nature were they chanted, that in one moment they overthrew
+all my systematic reasonings upon the Bastile; and I heavily walked
+up-stairs, unsaying every word I had said in going down them.
+
+"Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery," said I, "still thou
+art a bitter draft; and tho thousands in all ages have been made to
+drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account. 'Tis thou,
+thrice sweet and gracious goddess," addressing myself to liberty,
+"whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful,
+and ever will be so, till Nature herself shall change; no tint of
+words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chemic power turn thy scepter into
+iron; with thee to smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is
+happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious
+Heaven!" cried I, kneeling down upon the last step but one in my
+ascent, "grant me but health, thou great bestower of it, and give me
+but this fair goddess as my companion, and shower down thy miters, if
+it seem good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are
+aching for them."
+
+The bird in his cage pursued me into my room. I sat down close to my
+table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself
+the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I
+gave full scope to my imagination. I was going to begin with the
+millions of my fellow creatures born to no inheritance but slavery;
+but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring
+it near me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but
+distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in
+his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to
+take his picture. I beheld his body half-wasted away with long
+expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the
+heart it was which arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer I
+saw him pale and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not
+once fanned his blood; he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time,
+nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice;
+his children--but here my heart began to bleed, and I was forced to go
+on with another part of the portrait. He was sitting upon the ground
+upon a little straw, in the furthest corner of his dungeon, which was
+alternately his chair and bed; a little calendar of small sticks lay
+at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had
+passed there; he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with
+a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap.
+As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye
+toward the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with
+his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turned
+his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh:
+I saw the iron enter into his soul. I burst into tears: I could not
+sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+TO MOULINES WITH MARIA[34]
+
+
+When Maria had come a little to herself, I asked her if she remembered
+a pale thin person of a man who had sat down betwixt her and her goat
+about two years before? She said she was unsettled much at that time,
+but remembered it upon two accounts; that, ill as she was, she saw the
+person pitied her: and next, that her goat had stolen his
+handkerchief, and that she had beat him for the theft. "She had washed
+it," she said, "in the brook, and kept it ever since in her pocket to
+restore it to him in case she should ever see him again, which," she
+added, "he had half promised her."
+
+As she told me this, she took the handkerchief out of her pocket to
+let me see it: she had folded it up neatly in a couple of vine-leaves,
+tied around with a tendril: on opening it, I saw an S. marked in one
+of the corners.
+
+She had since that, she told me, strayed as far as Rome, and walked
+around St. Peter's once, and returned back: that she found her way
+alone across the Apennines, had traveled over all Lombardy without
+money, and through the flinty roads of Savoy without shoes: how she
+had borne it, and how she had got supported she could not tell: "But,
+'God tempers the wind,'" said Maria, "'to the shorn lamb.'"
+
+"Shorn, indeed, and to the quick," said I: "and wast thou in my own
+land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it, and shelter
+thee; thou shouldst eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup: I
+would be kind to thy Sylvio; in all thy weaknesses and wanderings I
+would seek after thee, and bring thee back; when the sun went down, I
+would say my prayers; and when I had done, thou shouldst play thy
+evening song upon thy pipe, nor would the incense of my sacrifice be
+worse accepted for entering heaven along with that of a broken heart!"
+
+Nature melted within me as I uttered this: and Maria observing, as I
+took out my handkerchief, that it was steeped too much already to be
+of use, would needs go wash it in the stream. "And where will you dry
+it, Maria?" said I.
+
+"I'll dry it in my bosom," said she: "'twill do me good."
+
+"And is your heart still so warm, Maria?" said I.
+
+I touched upon a string on which hung all her sorrows: she looked with
+wistful disorder for some time in my face; and then, without saying
+anything, took her pipe, and played her service to the Virgin. The
+string I had touched ceased to vibrate; in a moment or two, Maria
+returned to herself, let her pipe fall, and rose up.
+
+"And where are you going, Maria?" said I.
+
+She said, "To Moulines."
+
+"Let us go," said I, "together."
+
+Maria put her arm within mine, and lengthening the string to let the
+dog follow, in that order we entered Moulines.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE DEATH OF LE FEVRE[35]
+
+
+"In a fortnight or three weeks," added my uncle Toby, smiling, "he
+might march."
+
+"He will never march, an' please your Honor, in this world," said the
+Corporal.
+
+"He will march," said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the
+bed with one shoe off.
+
+"An' please your Honor," said the Corporal, "he will never march but
+to his grave."
+
+"He shall march," cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a
+shoe on, tho without advancing an inch--"he shall march to his
+regiment."
+
+"He can not stand it," said the Corporal.
+
+"He shall be supported," said my uncle Toby.
+
+"He'll drop at last," said the Corporal, "and what will become of his
+body?"
+
+"He shall not drop," said my uncle Toby firmly.
+
+"Ah, well--a--day!--do what we can for him," said Trim, maintaining
+his point, "the poor soul will die."
+
+"He shall not die, by G--," cried my uncle Toby.
+
+The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath,
+blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel, as he wrote it
+down, dropt a tear upon the word, and blotted it out forever.
+
+My uncle Toby went to his bureau, put his purse into his
+breeches-pocket, and, having ordered the Corporal to go early in the
+morning for a physician, he went to bed and fell asleep. The sun
+looked bright the morning after to every eye in the village but to Le
+Fevre's and his afflicted son's; the hand of death prest heavy upon
+his eyelids; and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its
+circle, when my uncle Toby, who had rose up an hour before his wonted
+time, entered the Lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology,
+sat himself down upon the chair by the bedside, and independently of
+all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend
+and brother-officer would have done it, and asked him how he did, how
+he had rested in the night, what was his complaint, where was his
+pain, and what he could do to help him; and without giving him time to
+answer any one of these inquiries, went on, and told him of the little
+plan which he had been concerting with Corporal the night before for
+him.
+
+"You shall go home directly, Le Fevre," said my uncle Toby, "to my
+house, and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter: and we'll
+have an apothecary; and the Corporal shall be your nurse; and I'll be
+your servant, Le Fevre."
+
+There was a frankness in my uncle Toby, not the effect of familiarity,
+but the cause of it, which let you at once into his soul, and showed
+you the goodness of his nature. To this, there was something in his
+looks, and voice, and manner, super-added, which eternally beckoned to
+the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that, before my
+uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the
+father, had the son insensibly prest up close to his knees, and had
+taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it toward him.
+The blood and spirits of Le Fevre, which were waxing cold and slow
+within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart,
+rallied back, the film forsook his eyes for a moment; he looked up
+wishfully in my uncle Toby's face; then cast a look upon his boy; and
+that ligament, fine as it was, was never broken.
+
+Nature instantly ebbed again; the film returned to its place; the
+pulse fluttered, stopt, went on, throbbed, stopt again, moved, stopt.
+Shall I go on? No.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+PASSAGES FROM THE ROMANCE OF MY UNCLE TOBY AND THE WIDOW[36]
+
+
+Now, as Widow Wadman did love my uncle Toby, and my uncle Toby did not
+love Widow Wadman, there was nothing for Widow Wadman to do, but to go
+on and love my uncle Toby--or let it alone.
+
+Widow Wadman would do neither the one nor the other....
+
+As soon as the Corporal had finished the story of his amour--or rather
+my uncle Toby for him--Mrs. Wadman silently sallied forth from her
+arbor, replaced the pin in her mob, passed the wicker-gate, and
+advanced slowly toward my uncle Toby's sentry-box; the disposition
+which Trim had made in my uncle Toby's mind was too favorable a
+crisis to be let slipt.
+
+The attack was determined upon: it was facilitated still more by my
+uncle Toby's having ordered the Corporal to wheel off the pioneer's
+shovel, the spade, the pickax, the piquets, and other military stores
+which lay scattered upon the ground where Dunkirk stood. The Corporal
+had marched; the field was clear.
+
+Now, consider, sir, what nonsense it is, either in fighting or
+writing, or anything else (whether in rime to it or not) which a man
+has occasion to do, to act by plan: for if ever Plan, independent of
+all circumstances, deserved registering in letters of gold (I mean in
+the archives of Gotham) it was certainly the Plan of Mrs. Wadman's
+attack of my uncle Toby in his sentry-box, by Plan. Now, the plan
+hanging up in it at this juncture, being the Plan of Dunkirk, and the
+tale of Dunkirk a tale of relaxation, it opposed every impression she
+could make: and, besides, could she have gone upon it, the maneuver of
+fingers and hands in the attack of the sentry-box was so outdone by
+that of the fair Beguine's, in Trim's story, that just then, that
+particular attack, however successful before, became the most
+heartless attack that could be made.
+
+Oh! let woman alone for this. Mrs. Wadman had scarce opened the
+wicker-gate, when her genius sported with the change of circumstances.
+
+She formed a new attack in a moment.
+
+"I am half distracted, Captain Shandy," said Mrs. Wadman, holding up
+her cambric handkerchief to her left eye, as she approached the door
+of my uncle Toby's sentry-box; "a mote, or sand, or something I know
+not what, has got into this eye of mine; do look into it; it is not in
+the white."
+
+In saying which, Mrs. Wadman edged herself close in beside my uncle
+Toby, and squeezing herself down upon the corner of his bench, she
+gave him an opportunity of doing it without rising up. "Do look into
+it," said she.
+
+Honest soul! thou didst look into it with as much innocency of heart
+as ever child looked into a raree show-box; and 'twere as much a sin
+to have hurt thee.
+
+If a man will be peeping of his own accord into things of that nature,
+I've nothing to say to it.
+
+My uncle Toby never did: and I will answer for him, that he would have
+sat quietly upon a sofa from June to January (which, you know, takes
+in both the hot and cold months) with an eye as fine as the Thracian
+Rhodope's beside him, without being able to tell whether it was a
+black or a blue one.
+
+The difficulty was, to get my uncle Toby to look at one at all.
+
+'Tis surmounted. And--
+
+I see him yonder, with his pipe pendulous in his hand, and the ashes
+falling out of it, looking and looking, then rubbing his eyes, and
+looking again, with twice the good nature that ever Galileo looked for
+a spot in the sun.
+
+In vain! for, by all the powers which animate the organ, Widow
+Wadman's left eye shines this moment as lucid as her right; there is
+neither mote, nor sand, nor dust, nor chaff, nor speck, nor particle
+of opaque matter floating in it. There is nothing, my dear paternal
+uncle! but one lambent delicious fire, furtively shooting out from
+every part of it, in all directions into thine.
+
+If thou lookest, Uncle Toby, in search of this mote one moment longer,
+thou art undone.
+
+An eye is, for all the world, exactly like a cannon, in this respect,
+that it is not so much the eye or the cannon, in themselves, as it is
+the carriage of the eye and the carriage of the cannon; by which both
+the one and the other are enabled to do so much execution. I don't
+think the comparison a bad one; however, as 'tis made and placed at
+the head of the chapter, as much for use as ornament, all I desire in
+return is, that whenever I speak of Mrs. Wadman's eyes (except once in
+the next period) that you keep it in your fancy.
+
+"I protest, madam," said my uncle Toby, "I can see nothing whatever in
+your eye."
+
+"It is not in the white," said Mrs. Wadman. My uncle Toby looked with
+might and main into the pupil.
+
+Now, of all the eyes which ever were created, from your own, madam, up
+to those of Venus herself, which certainly were as venereal a pair of
+eyes as ever stood in a head, there never was an eye of them all so
+fitted to rob my uncle Toby of his repose as the very eye at which he
+was looking; it was not, madam, a rolling eye, a romping, or a wanton
+one; nor was it an eye sparkling, petulant, or imperious, of high
+claims and terrifying expectations, which would have curdled at once
+that milk of human nature, of which my uncle Toby was made up; but
+'twas an eye full of gentle salutations and soft responses, speaking,
+not like the trumpet-stop of some ill-made organ, in which many an
+eye I talk to holds coarse converse, but whispering soft, like that
+last low accent of an expiring saint, "How can you live comfortless,
+Captain Shandy, and alone, without a bosom to lean your head on--or
+trust your cares to?"
+
+It was an eye--
+
+But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another word about it.
+
+It did my uncle Toby's business....
+
+The world is ashamed of being virtuous. My uncle Toby knew little of
+the world; and therefore, when he felt he was in love with Widow
+Wadman, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a
+mystery of than if Mrs. Wadman had given him a cut with a gap'd knife
+across his finger. Had it been otherwise--yet, as he ever looked upon
+Trim as a humbler friend, and saw fresh reasons every day of his life
+to treat him as such--it would have made no variation in the manner in
+which he informed him of the affair.
+
+"I am in love, Corporal!" quoth my uncle Toby....
+
+Tho the Corporal had been as good as his word in putting my uncle
+Toby's great Ramillies wig into pipes, yet the time was too short to
+produce any great effects from it; it had lain many years squeezed up
+in the corner of his old campaign-trunk; and as bad forms are not so
+easy to be got the better of, and the use of candle-ends not so well
+understood, it was not so pliable a business as one would have wished.
+The Corporal, with cheery eye and both arms extended, had fallen back
+perpendicular from it a score times, to inspire it, if possible, with
+a better air:--had Spleen given a look at it, 'twould have cost her
+ladyship a smile; it curled everywhere but where the Corporal would
+have it; and where a buckle or two, in his opinion, would have done it
+honor, he could as soon have raised the dead.
+
+Such it was, or rather, such would it have seemed upon any other brow;
+but the sweet look of goodness which sat upon my uncle Toby's
+assimilated everything around it so sovereignly to itself, and Nature
+had, moreover, wrote gentleman with so fair a hand in every line of
+his countenance, that even his tarnished gold-laced hat and huge
+cockade of flimsy taffeta became him; and, tho not worth a button in
+themselves, yet the moment my uncle Toby put them on, they became
+serious objects, and, altogether, seemed to have been picked up by the
+hand of Science to set him off to advantage.
+
+Nothing, in this world could have cooperated more powerfully toward
+this than my uncle Toby's blue and gold, had not Quantity, in some
+measure, been necessary to grace. In a period of fifteen or sixteen
+years since they had been made, by a total inactivity in my uncle
+Toby's life (for he seldom went further than the bowling green), his
+blue and gold had become so miserably too straight for him that it was
+with the utmost difficulty the Corporal was able to get him into them;
+the taking up at the sleeves was of no advantage; they were laced,
+however, down the back, and at the seams of the sides, etc., in the
+mode of King William's reign; and to shorten all description, they
+shone so bright against the sun that morning, and had so metallic and
+doughty an air with them, that, had my uncle Toby thought of attacking
+in armor, nothing could have so well imposed upon his imagination.
+
+As for the thin scarlet breeches, they had been unripped by the tailor
+between the legs, and left at sixes and sevens.
+
+Yes, madam; but let us govern our fancies. It is enough they were held
+impracticable the night before; and, as there was no alternative in my
+uncle Toby's wardrobe, he sallied forth in the red plush.
+
+The Corporal had arrayed himself in poor Le Fevre's regimental coat;
+and with his hair tucked up under his Montero-cap, which he had
+furbished up for the occasion, marched three paces distant from his
+master; a whiff of military pride had puffed out his shirt at the
+wrist; and upon that, in a black leather thong clipt into a tassel
+beyond the knot, hung the Corporal's stick. My uncle Toby carried his
+cane like a pike.
+
+"It looks well, at least," quoth my father to himself....
+
+When my uncle Toby and the Corporal had marched down to the bottom of
+the avenue, they recollected their business lay the other way; so they
+faced about, and marched up straight to Mrs. Wadman's door.
+
+"I warrant your Honor," said the Corporal, touching his Montero-cap
+with his hand as he passed him in order to give a knock at the door.
+My uncle Toby, contrary to his invariable way of treating his faithful
+servant, said nothing good or bad; the truth was, he had not
+altogether marshaled his ideas; he wished for another conference, and,
+as the Corporal was mounting up the three steps before the door, he
+hem'd twice; a portion of my uncle Toby's most modest spirits fled, at
+each expulsion, toward the Corporal; he stood with the rapper of the
+door suspended for a full minute in his hand, he scarce knew why.
+Bridget stood perdue within, with her finger and her thumb upon the
+latch, benumbed with expectation; and Mrs. Wadman, with an eye ready
+to be deflowered again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of
+her bed-chamber, watching their approach.
+
+"Trim!" said my uncle Toby; but, as he articulated the word, the
+minute expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.
+
+My uncle Toby, perceiving that all hopes of a conference were knocked
+on the head by it, whistled Lillabullero.
+
+As Mrs. Bridget opened the door before the Corporal had well given the
+rap, the interval betwixt that and my uncle Toby's introduction into
+the parlor was so short that Mrs. Wadman had but just time to get from
+behind the curtain, lay a Bible upon the table, and advance a step or
+two toward the door to receive him.
+
+My uncle Toby saluted Mrs. Wadman, after the manner in which women
+were saluted by men in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred
+and thirteen; then facing about, he marched up abreast with her to the
+sofa, and in three plain words, tho not before he was sat down, nor
+after he was sat down, but as he was sitting down, told her, "he was
+in love"; so that my uncle Toby strained himself more in the
+declaration than he needed.
+
+Mrs. Wadman naturally looked down upon a slit she had been darning up
+in her apron, in expectation every moment that my uncle Toby would go
+on; but having no talents for amplification, and Love, moreover, of
+all others, being a subject of which he was the least a master, when
+he had told Mrs. Wadman once that he loved her, he let it alone, and
+left the matter to work after its own way.
+
+My father was always in raptures with this system of my uncle Toby's,
+as he falsely called it, and would often say, That could his brother
+Toby to his process have added but a pipe of tobacco, he had
+wherewithal to have his way, if there was faith in a Spanish proverb,
+toward the hearts of half the women upon the globe.
+
+My uncle Toby never understood what my father meant; nor will I
+presume to extract more from it than a condemnation of an error which
+the bulk of the world lie under; but the French, every one of them to
+a man, who believe in it almost as much as the Real Presence, "That
+talking of love is making it."
+
+I would as soon set about making a black pudding by the same receipt.
+
+Let us go on: Mrs. Wadman sat in expectation my uncle Toby would do
+so, to almost the first pulsation of that minute, wherein silence on
+one side or the other generally becomes indecent; so edging herself a
+little more toward him, and raising up her eyes, sub-blushing as she
+did it, she took up the gantlet, or the discourse (if you like it
+better), and communed with my uncle Toby thus:
+
+"The cares and disquietudes of the marriage-state," quoth Mrs. Wadman,
+"are very great."
+
+"I suppose so," said my uncle Toby.
+
+"And therefore when a person," continued Mrs. Wadman, "is so much at
+his ease as you are, so happy, Captain Shandy, in yourself, your
+friends, and your amusements, I wonder what reasons can incline you to
+the state?"
+
+"They are written," quoth my uncle Toby, "in the Common Prayer-Book."
+
+Thus far my uncle Toby went on warily, and kept within his depth,
+leaving Mrs. Wadman to sail upon the gulf as she pleased.
+
+"As for children," said Mrs. Wadman, "tho a principal end, perhaps, of
+the institution, and the natural wish, I suppose, of every parent, yet
+do not we all find that they are certain sorrows, and very uncertain
+comforts? and what is there, dear sir, to pay one for the heart-aches,
+what compensation for the many tender and disquieting apprehensions of
+a suffering and defenseless mother who brings them into life?"
+
+"I declare," said my uncle Toby, smitten with pity, "I know of none:
+unless it be the pleasure which it has pleased God ..."
+
+"A fiddlestick!" quoth she....
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 33: From the "Sentimental Journey."]
+
+[Footnote 34: From the "Sentimental Journey."]
+
+[Footnote 35: From "Tristram Shandy."]
+
+[Footnote 36: From "Tristram Shandy."]
+
+
+
+
+THOMAS GRAY
+
+     Born in 1716, died in 1771; educated at Eton, where he began
+     a lifelong friendship with Horace Walpole; traveled on the
+     Continent with Walpole in 1739; settled in Cambridge in
+     1741, where in 1768 he was made professor of Modern History;
+     refused the laureateship in 1757; published his "Elegy
+     Written in a Country Churchyard" in 1751; his poems and
+     letters collected by Mason in 1775.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+WARWICK CASTLE[37]
+
+
+I have been at Warwick, which is a place worth seeing. The town is on
+an eminence surrounded every way with a fine cultivated valley,
+through which the Avon winds, and at the distance of five or six
+miles, a circle of hills, well wooded, and with various objects
+crowning them, that close the prospect. Out of the town on one side of
+it, rises a rock that might remind one of your rocks at Durham, but
+that it is not so savage, or so lofty, and that the river, which,
+washes its foot, is perfectly clear, and so gentle, that its current
+is hardly visible. Upon it stands the castle, the noble old residence
+of the Beauchamps and Nevilles, and now of Earl Brooke. He has sash'd
+the great apartment that's to be sure (I can't help these things), and
+being since told, that square sash-windows were not Gothic, he has put
+certain whim-whams within side the glass, which appearing through are
+to look like fret-work. Then he has scooped out a little burrow in the
+massy walls of the place for his little self and his children, which
+is hung with paper and printed linen, and carved chimney-pieces, in
+the exact manner of Berkley Square or Argyle buildings. What in short
+can a lord do nowadays, that is lost in a great old solitary castle,
+but skulk about, and get into the first hole he finds, as a rat would
+do in like case.
+
+A pretty long old stone bridge leads you into the town with a mill at
+the end of it, over which the rock rises with the castle upon it with
+all its battlements and queer ruined towers, and on your left hand the
+Avon strays through the park, whose ancient elms seem to remember Sir
+Philip Sidney, who often walk'd under them, and talk of him to this
+day. The Beauchamp Earls of Warwick lie under stately monuments in the
+choir of the great church, and in our lady's chapel adjoining to it.
+There also lie Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick; and his brother, the
+famous Lord Leicester, with Lettice, his countess. This chapel is
+preserved entire, tho the body of the church was burned down sixty
+years ago, and rebuilt by Sir C. Wren.
+
+I had heard often of Guy-Cliff, two miles from the town; so I walked
+to see it, and of all improvers commend me to Mr. Greathead, its
+present owner. He shew'd it me himself, and is literally a fat young
+man with a head and face much bigger than they are usually worn. It
+was naturally a very agreeable rock, whose cliffs cover'd with large
+trees hung beetling over the Avon, which twists twenty ways in sight
+of it. There was the cell of Guy, Earl of Warwick, cut in the living
+stone, where he died a hermit (as you may see in a penny history, that
+hangs upon the rails in Moorfields). There were his fountains bubbling
+out of the cliff; there was a chantry founded to his memory in Henry
+the Sixth's time. But behold the trees are cut down to make room for
+flowering shrubs; the rock is cut up, till it is as smooth and as
+sleek as satin; the river has a gravel-walk by its side; the cell is a
+grotto with cockle-shells and looking glass; the fountains have an
+iron gate before them, and the chantry is a barn, or a little house.
+Even the poorest bite of nature that remain are daily threatened, for
+he says (and I am sure, when the Greatheads are once set upon a thing,
+they will do it) he is determined it shall be all new. These were his
+words, and they are fate.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+TO HIS FRIEND MASON ON THE DEATH OF MASON'S MOTHER[38]
+
+
+I break in upon you at a moment when we least of all are permitted to
+disturb our friends, only to say that you are daily and hourly present
+to my thoughts. If the worst be not yet passed, you will neglect and
+pardon me; but if the last struggle be over, if the poor object of
+your long anxieties be no longer sensible to your kindness, or to her
+own sufferings, allow me (at least in idea, for what could I do were I
+present more than this), to sit by you in silence, and pity from my
+heart, not her who is at rest, but you who lose her. May He who made
+us, the Master of our pleasures and of our pains, preserve and support
+you. Adieu.
+
+I have long understood how little you had to hope.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+ON HIS OWN WRITINGS[39]
+
+
+To your friendly accusation I am glad I can plead not guilty with a
+safe conscience. Dodsley told me in the Spring that the plates from
+Mr. Bentley's designs were worn out, and he wanted to have them copied
+and reduced to a smaller scale for a new edition. I dissuaded him from
+so silly an expense, and desired he would put in no ornaments at all.
+The "Long Story" was to be totally omitted, as its only use (that of
+explaining the prints) was gone: but to supply the place of it in
+bulk, lest my works should be mistaken for the works of a flea, or a
+pismire, I promised to send him an equal weight of poetry or prose:
+so, since my return hither, I put up about two ounces of stuff, viz.,
+the "Fatal Sisters," the "Descent of Odin" (of both which you have
+copies), a bit of something from the Welch, and certain little Notes,
+partly from justice (to acknowledge the debt where I had borrowed
+anything), partly from ill temper, just to tell the gentle reader that
+Edward I was not Oliver Cromwell, nor Queen Elizabeth the Witch of
+Endor. This is literally all; and with all this, I shall be but a
+shrimp of an author. I gave leave also to print the same thing at
+Glasgow; but I doubt my packet has miscarried, for I hear nothing of
+its arrival as yet.
+
+To what you say to me so civilly, that I ought to write more, I reply
+in your own words (like the Pamphleteer, who is going to confute you
+out of your own mouth), What has one to do when turned of fifty, but
+really to think of finishing? However, I will be candid (for you seem
+to be so with me), and avow to you, that till four-score-and-ten,
+whenever the humor takes me, I will write, because I like it; and
+because I like myself better when I do so. If I do not write much, it
+is because I can not. As you have not this last plea, I see no reason
+why you should not continue as long as it is agreeable to yourself,
+and to all such as have any curiosity or judgment in the subject you
+choose to treat. By the way let me tell you (while it is fresh) that
+Lord Sandwich, who was lately dining at Cambridge, speaking (as I am
+told) handsomely of your book, said, it was pity you did not know that
+his cousin Manchester had a genealogy of Kings, which came down no
+lower than to Richard III, and at the end of it were two portraits of
+Richard and his son, in which that king appeared to be a handsome man.
+I tell you it as I heard it; perhaps you may think it worth inquiring
+into....
+
+Mr. Boswell's book[40] I was going to recommend to you, when I
+received your letter: it has pleased and moved me strangely, all (I
+mean) that relates to Paoli. He is a man born two thousand years after
+his time! The pamphlet proves what I have always maintained, that any
+fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us
+what he heard and saw with veracity. Of Mr. Boswell's truth I have not
+the least suspicion, because I am sure he could invent nothing of this
+kind. The true title of this part of his work is, a Dialogue between a
+Green-Goose and a Hero.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+HIS FRIENDSHIP FOR BONSTETTEN[41]
+
+
+Never did I feel, my dear Bonstetten, to what a tedious length the few
+short moments of our life may be extended by impatience and
+expectation, till you had left me; nor ever knew before with so strong
+a conviction how much this frail body sympathizes with the inquietude
+of the mind. I am grown old in the compass of less than three weeks,
+like the Sultan in the Turkish tales, that did but plunge his head
+into a vessel of water and take it out again, as the standers by
+affirmed, at the command of a Dervish, and found he had passed many
+years in captivity, and begot a large family of children.
+
+The strength and spirits that now enable me to write to you, are only
+owing to your last letter a temporary gleam of sunshine. Heaven knows
+when it may shine again! I did not conceive till now, I own, what it
+was to lose you, nor felt the solitude and insipidity of my own
+condition before I possest the happiness of your friendship. I must
+cite another Greek writer to you, because it is much to my purpose; he
+is describing the character of a genius truly inclined to philosophy.
+"It includes," he says, "qualifications rarely united in one single
+mind, quickness of apprehension and a retentive memory, vivacity and
+application, gentleness and magnanimity"; to these he adds an
+invincible love of truth, and consequently of probity and justice.
+"Such a soul," continues he, "will be little inclined to sensual
+pleasures, and consequently temperate; a stranger to illiberality and
+avarice; being accustomed to the most extensive views of things, and
+sublimest contemplations, it will contract an habitual greatness, will
+look down with a kind of disregard on human life and on death;
+consequently, will possess the truest fortitude. Such," says he, "is
+the mind born to govern the rest of mankind."
+
+But these very endowments, so necessary to a soul formed for
+philosophy, are often its ruin, especially when joined to the external
+advantages of wealth, nobility, strength, and beauty; that is, if it
+light on a bad soil, and want its proper nurture, which nothing but an
+excellent education can bestow. In this case he is depraved by the
+public example, the assemblies of the people, the courts of justice,
+the theaters, that inspire it with false opinions, terrify it with
+false infamy, or elevate it with false applause; and remember, that
+extraordinary vices and extraordinary virtues are equally the produce
+of a vigorous mind: little souls are alike incapable of the one and
+the other.
+
+If you have ever met with the portrait sketched out by Plato, you will
+know it again: for my part, to my sorrow I have had that happiness. I
+see the principal features, and I foresee the dangers with a trembling
+anxiety. But enough of this, I return to your letter. It proves at
+least, that in the midst of your new gaieties I still hold some place
+in your memory, and, what pleases me above all, it had an air of
+undissembled sincerity. Go on, my best and amiable friend, to shew me
+your heart simply and without the shadow of disguise, and leave me to
+weep over it, as I now do, no matter whether from joy or sorrow.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 37: From a letter to Thomas Wharton, dated "Stoke Pogis,
+September 18, 1754."]
+
+[Footnote 38: Written on March 28, 1767. The tenderness of this brief
+letter of condolence will recall the inscription which Gray placed on
+the tomb of his own mother in Stoke Pogis church-yard--the tomb in
+which he himself was afterward buried "She was the careful, tender
+mother of many children," says the inscription, "only one of whom had
+the misfortune to survive her."]
+
+[Footnote 39: From a letter to Horace Walpole, dated "Pembroke
+College, February 25, 1768."]
+
+[Footnote 40: This refers to Boswell's visit to Corsica in 1766. The
+book he wrote was his "Journal of a Tour to Corsica, with Memoirs of
+Pascal Paoli."]
+
+[Footnote 41: From a letter to Bonstetten, dated "Cambridge, April 12,
+1770." Bonstetten was a Swiss philosopher and essayist who had formed
+a close friendship with Gray and many other eminent English men of
+culture. Bonstetten left England in March of the year in which this
+letter was written, Gray going with him as far as London, where he
+pointed out in the street the "great bear," Samuel Johnson, and saw
+Bonstetten safely into a coach bound for Dover.]
+
+
+
+
+HORACE WALPOLE
+
+     Born in 1717, died in 1797; third son of Sir Robert Walpole,
+     the Prime Minister; educated at Eton and Cambridge; traveled
+     with Thomas Gray in 1739-41; entered Parliament in 1741;
+     settled at Strawberry Hill in 1747; made fourth Earl of
+     Orford in 1791; author of many books, but best known now for
+     his letters.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+HOGARTH[42]
+
+
+Hogarth was born in the parish of St. Bartholomew, London, the son of
+a low tradesman, who bound him to a mean engraver of arms on plate;
+but before his time was expired he felt the impulse of genius, and
+felt it directed him to painting, tho little apprized at that time of
+the mode nature had intended he should pursue. His apprenticeship was
+no sooner expired than he entered into the academy in St. Martin's
+Lane, and studied drawing from the life, in which he never attained to
+great excellence. It was character, the passions, the soul, that his
+genius was given him to copy. In coloring he proved no greater a
+master; his force lay in expression, not in tints and chiaroscuro. At
+first he worked for booksellers, and designed and engraved plates for
+several books; and, which is extraordinary, no symptom of genius
+dawned in those plates. His "Hudibras" was the first of his works that
+marked him as a man above the common; yet what made him then noticed
+now surprizes us, to find so little humor in an undertaking so
+congenial to his talents. On the success, however, of those plates, he
+commenced painter, a painter of portraits: the most ill-suited
+employment imaginable to a man whose turn certainly was not flattery,
+nor his talent adapted to look on vanity without a sneer. Yet his
+facility in catching a likeness, and the methods he chose of painting
+families and conversations in small, then a novelty, drew him
+prodigious business for some time. It did not last: either from his
+applying to the real bent of his disposition, or from his customers
+apprehending that a satirist was too formidable a confessor for the
+devotees of self-love. He had already dropt a few of his smaller
+prints on some reigning follies; but as the dates are wanting on most
+of them, I can not ascertain which, tho those on the South Sea and
+"Rabbit Woman" prove that he had early discovered his talent for
+ridicule, tho he did not then think of building his reputation or
+fortune on its powers.
+
+His "Midnight Modern Conversation" was the first work that showed his
+command of character; but it was "The Harlot's Progress," published in
+1729 or 1730, that established his fame. The pictures were scarce
+finished, and no sooner exhibited to the public, and the subscription
+opened, than above twelve hundred names were entered on his book. The
+familiarity of the subject and the propriety of the execution made it
+tasted by all ranks of people. Every engraver set himself to copy it,
+and thousands of imitations were dispersed all over the kingdom. It
+was made into a pantomime, and performed on the stage. The "Rake's
+Progress," perhaps superior, had not so much success, from want of
+novelty; nor, indeed, is the print of "The Arrest" equal in merit to
+the others.
+
+The curtain was now drawn aside, and his genius stood displayed in its
+full luster. From time to time he continued to give those works that
+should be immortal, if the nature of his art will allow it. Even the
+receipts for his subscriptions had wit in them. Many of his plates he
+engraved himself, and often expunged faces etched by his assistants
+when they had not done justice to his ideas.
+
+Not content with shining in a path untrodden before, he was ambitious
+of distinguishing himself as a painter of history. But not only his
+coloring and drawing rendered him unequal to the task; the genius that
+had entered so feelingly into the calamities and crimes of familiar
+life deserted him in a walk that called for dignity and grace. The
+burlesque turn of his mind mixt itself with the most serious subjects.
+In his "Danaë," the old nurse tries a coin of the golden shower with
+her teeth to see if it is true gold; in the "Pool of Bethesda," a
+servant of a rich ulcerated lady beats back a poor man that sought the
+same celestial remedy. Both circumstances are justly thought, but
+rather too ludicrous. It is a much more capital fault that "Danaë"
+herself is a mere nymph of Drury. He seems to have conceived no higher
+idea of beauty.
+
+So little had he eyes to his own deficiencies, that he believed he had
+discovered the principle of grace. With the enthusiasm of a
+discoverer he cried, "Eureka!" This was his famous line of beauty,
+the groundwork of his "Analysis," a book that has many sensible hints
+and observations, but that did not carry the conviction nor meet the
+universal acquiescence he expected. As he treated his contemporaries
+with scorn, they triumphed over this publication, and imitated him to
+expose him. Many wretched burlesque prints came out to ridicule his
+system. There was a better answer to it in one of the two prints that
+he gave to illustrate his hypothesis. In "The Ball," had he confined
+himself to such outlines as compose awkwardness and deformity, he
+would have proved half his assertion; but he has added two samples of
+grace in a young lord and lady that are strikingly stiff and affected.
+They are a Bath beau and a country beauty.
+
+But this was the failing of a visionary. He fell afterward into a
+grosser mistake. From a contempt of the ignorant virtuosi of the age,
+and from indignation at the impudent tricks of picture-dealers, whom
+he saw continually recommending and vending vile copies to bubble
+collectors, and from having never studied, indeed having seen, few
+good pictures of the great Italian masters, he persuaded himself that
+the praises bestowed on those glorious works were nothing but the
+effects of prejudice. He talked this language till he believed it; and
+having heard it often asserted, as is true, that time gives a
+mellowness to colors and improves them, he not only denied the
+proposition, but maintained that pictures only grew black and worse by
+age, not distinguishing between the degrees in which the proposition
+might be true or false. He went further; he determined to rival the
+ancients, and unfortunately chose one of the finest pictures in
+England as the object of his compensation. This was the celebrated
+"Sigismonda" of Sir Luke Schaub, now in the possession of the Duke of
+Newcastle, said to be painted by Correggio, probably by Furino, but no
+matter by whom. It is impossible to see the picture, or read Dryden's
+inimitable tale, and not feel that the same soul animated both. After
+many essays Hogarth at last produced his "Sigismonda," but no more
+like "Sigismonda" than I to Hercules. Hogarth's performance was more
+ridiculous than anything he had ever ridiculed. He set the price of
+£400 on it, and had it returned on his hands by the person for whom it
+was painted. He took subscriptions for a plate of it, but had the
+sense at last to suppress it. I make no more apology for this account
+than for the encomiums I have bestowed on him. Both are dictated by
+truth, and are the history of a great man's excellences and errors.
+Milton, it is said, preferred his "Paradise Regained" to his immortal
+poem.
+
+The last memorable event of our artist's life was his quarrel with Mr.
+Wilkes; in which, if Mr. Hogarth did not commence direct hostilities
+on the latter, he at least obliquely gave the first offense by an
+attack on the friends and party of that gentleman. This conduct was
+the more surprizing, as he had all his life avoided dipping his pencil
+in political contests, and had early refused a very lucrative offer
+that was made to engage him in a set of prints against the head of a
+court party. Without entering into the merits of the cause, I shall
+only state the fact. In September, 1762, Mr. Hogarth published his
+print of _The Times_. It was answered by Mr. Wilkes in a severe _North
+Briton_. On this the painter exhibited the caricature of the writer.
+Mr. Churchill, the poet, then engaged in the war, and wrote his
+epistle to Hogarth, not the brightest of his works, and in which the
+severest strokes fell on a defect that the painter had neither caused
+nor could amend--his age; and which, however, was neither remarkable
+nor decrepit, much less had it impaired his talents, as appeared by
+his having composed but six months before one of his most capital
+works, the satire on the Methodists. In revenge for this epistle,
+Hogarth caricatured Churchill under the form of a canonical bear, with
+a club and a pot of porter--_Et vitulâ tu dignus et hic_. Never did
+two angry men of their abilities throw mud with less dexterity.
+
+Mr. Hogarth, in the year 1730, married the only daughter of Sir James
+Thornhill, by whom he had no children. He died of a dropsy in his
+breast at his house in Leicester Fields, October 26, 1764.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE WAR IN AMERICA[43]
+
+
+In spite of all my modesty, I can not help thinking I have a little
+something of the prophet about me. At least we have not conquered
+America yet. I did not send you immediate word of our victory at
+Boston, because the success not only seemed very equivocal, but
+because the conquerors lost three to one more than the vanquished. The
+last do not pique themselves upon modern good breeding, but level only
+at the officers, of whom they have slain a vast number. We are a
+little disappointed, indeed, at their fighting at all, which was not
+in our calculation. We knew we could conquer America in Germany, and I
+doubt had better have gone thither now for that purpose, as it does
+not appear hitherto to be quite so feasible in America itself.
+However, we are determined to know the worst, and are sending away all
+the men and ammunition we can muster. The Congress, not asleep,
+neither, have appointed a generalissimo, Washington, allowed a very
+able officer, who distinguished himself in the last war. Well, we had
+better have gone on robbing the Indies! it was a more lucrative trade.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE DEATH OF GEORGE II[44]
+
+
+The deaths of kings travel so much faster than any post, that I can
+not expect to tell you news, when I say your old master is dead. But I
+can pretty well tell you what I like best to be able to say to you on
+this occasion, that you are in no danger. Change will scarce reach to
+Florence when its hand is checked even in the capital. But I will
+move a little regularly, and then you will form your judgment more
+easily.
+
+This is Tuesday; on Friday night the King went to bed in perfect
+health, and rose so the next morning at his usual hour of six; he
+called for and drank his chocolate. At seven, his _valet de chambre_
+heard a groan. He ran in, and in a small room between the closet and
+bed-chamber he found the King on the floor, who had cut the right side
+of his face against the edge of a bureau, and who after a gasp
+expired. Lady Yarmouth was called, and sent for Princess Amelia; but
+they only told the latter that the King was ill and wanted her. She
+had been confined some days with a rheumatism, but hurried down, ran
+into the room without further notice, and saw her father extended on
+the bed. She is very purblind, and more than a little deaf. They had
+not closed his eyes; she bent down close to his face, and concluded he
+spoke to her, tho she could not hear him--guess what a shock when she
+found the truth.
+
+She wrote to the Prince of Wales--but so had one of the _valets de
+chambre_ first. He came to town, and saw the Duke [of Cumberland] and
+the Privy Council. He was extremely kind to the first--and in general
+has behaved with the greatest propriety, dignity, and decency. He read
+his speech to the Council with much grace, and dismissed the guards on
+himself to wait on his grandfather's body. It is intimated, that he
+means to employ the same ministers, but with reserve to himself of
+more authority than has lately been in fashion. The Duke of York and
+Lord Bute are named of the Cabinet Council. The late King's will is
+not yet opened. To-day everybody kissed hands at Leicester House, and
+this week, I believe, the King will go to St. James's. The body has
+been opened; the great ventricle of the heart had burst. What an
+enviable death! In the greatest period of the glory of this country,
+and of his reign, in perfect tranquillity at home, at seventy-seven,
+growing blind and deaf, to die without a pang, before any reverse of
+fortune, or any distasted peace, nay, but two days before a ship-load
+of bad news: could he have chosen such another moment?
+
+The news is bad indeed! Berlin taken by capitulation, and yet the
+Austrians behaved so savagely that even Russians felt delicacy, were
+shocked, and checked them! Nearer home, the hereditary prince has been
+much beaten by Monsieur de Castries, and forced to raise the siege of
+Wesel, whither Prince Ferdinand had sent him most unadvisedly: we have
+scarce an officer unwounded. The secret expedition will now, I
+conclude, sail, to give an _éclat_ to the new reign. Lord Albemarle
+does not command it, as I told you, nor Mr. Conway, tho both applied.
+
+Nothing is settled about the Parliament; not even the necessary
+changes in the Household. Committees of council are regulating the
+mourning and the funeral. The town, which between armies, militia, and
+approaching elections, was likely to be a desert all the winter, is
+filled in a minute, but everything is in the deepest tranquillity.
+People stare; the only expression. The moment anything is declared,
+one shall not perceive the novelty of the reign. A nation without
+parties is soon a nation without curiosity.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 42: From the "Anecdotes of Painting in England."]
+
+[Footnote 43: Letter dated "Strawberry Hill, August 3, 1775."]
+
+[Footnote 44: Letter to Sir Horace Mann, dated "Arlington Street,
+October 28, 1760."]
+
+
+
+
+GILBERT WHITE
+
+     Born in 1720, died in 1793; educated at Oxford and became a
+     fellow of Oriel; later made curate at Selborne; his "Natural
+     History of Selborne," published in 1789.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHIMNEY-SWALLOW[45]
+
+
+The house-swallow, or chimney-swallow, is undoubtedly the first comer
+of all the British _hirundines_; and appears in general on or about
+the 13th of April, as I have remarked from many years' observation.
+Not but now and then a straggler is seen much earlier: and in
+particular, when I was a boy I observed a swallow for a whole day
+together on a sunny warm Shrove Tuesday; which day could not fall out
+later than the middle of March, and often happened early in February.
+
+It is worth remarking that these birds are seen first about lakes and
+mill-ponds; and it is also very particular, that if these early
+visitors happen to find frost and snow, as was the case in the two
+dreadful springs of 1770 and 1771, they immediately withdraw for a
+time. A circumstance this, much more in favor of hiding than
+migration; since it is much more probable that a bird should retire to
+its hybernaculum just at hand, than return for a week or two to warmer
+latitudes.
+
+The swallow, tho called the chimney-swallow, by no means builds
+altogether in chimneys, but often within barns and outhouses against
+the rafters; and so she did in Virgil's time: "Garrula quam tignis
+nidos suspendat hirundo" (the twittering swallow hangs its nest from
+the beams).
+
+In Sweden she builds in barns, and is called _Ladu swala_, the
+barn-swallow. Besides, in the warmer parts of Europe, there are no
+chimneys to houses, except they are English built: in these countries
+she constructs her nest in porches, and gateways, and galleries, and
+open halls.
+
+Here and there a bird may affect some odd peculiar place; as we have
+known a swallow build down a shaft of an old well through which chalk
+had been formerly drawn up for the purpose of manure: but in general
+with us this _hirundo_ breeds in chimneys, and loves to haunt those
+stacks where there is a constant fire--no doubt for the sake of
+warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate shaft where there is
+a fire; but prefers one adjoining to that of the kitchen, and
+disregards the perpetual smoke of the funnel, as I have often observed
+with some degree of wonder.
+
+Five or six feet more down the chimney does this little bird begin to
+form her nest, about the middle of May: which consists, like that of
+the house-martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt or mud, mixt
+with short pieces of straw to render it tough and permanent; with this
+difference, that whereas the shell of the martin is nearly
+hemispheric, that of the swallow is open at the top, and like half a
+deep ditch; this nest is lined with fine grasses, and feathers which
+are often collected as they float in the air.
+
+Wonderful is the address which this adroit bird shows all day long, in
+ascending and descending with security through so narrow a pass. When
+hovering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibration of her wings,
+acting on the confined air, occasions a rumbling like thunder. It is
+not improbable that the dam submits to this inconvenient situation so
+low in the shaft, in order to secure her broods from rapacious birds;
+and particularly from owls, which frequently fall down chimneys,
+perhaps in attempting to get at these nestlings.
+
+The swallow lays from four to six white eggs, dotted with red specks;
+and brings out her first brood about the last week in June, or the
+first week in July. The progressive method by which the young are
+introduced into life is very amusing: first they emerge from the shaft
+with difficulty enough, and often fall down into the rooms below; for
+a day or so they are fed on the chimney-top, and then are conducted to
+the dead leafless bough of some tree, where, sitting in a row, they
+are attended with great assiduity, and may then be called perchers. In
+a day or two more they become fliers, but are still unable to take
+their own food; therefore they play about near the place where the
+dams are hawking for flies: and when a mouthful is collected, at a
+certain signal given, the dam and the nestling advance, rising toward
+each other, and meeting at an angle; the young one all the while
+uttering such a little quick note of gratitude and complacency, that a
+person must have paid very little regard for the wonders of nature
+that has not often remarked this feat.
+
+The dam betakes herself immediately to the business of a second brood
+as soon as she is disengaged from her first, which at once associates
+with the first broods of house-martins, and with them congregates,
+clustering on sunny roofs, towers and trees. This _hirundo_ brings out
+her second brood toward the middle and end of August.
+
+All summer long, the swallow is a most instructive pattern of
+unwearied industry and affection: for from morning to night, while
+there is a family to be supported, she spends the whole day in
+skimming close to the ground, and exerting the most sudden turns and
+quick evolutions. Avenues, and long walks under the hedges, and
+pasture-fields, and mown meadows where cattle graze, are her delight,
+especially if there are trees interspersed; because in such spots
+insects most abound. When a fly is taken, a smart snap from her bill
+is heard, resembling the noise at the shutting of a watch-case; but
+the motion of the mandibles is too quick for the eye.
+
+The swallow, probably the male bird, is the _excubitor_ to
+house-martins and other little birds; announcing the approach of birds
+of prey. For as soon as a hawk appears, with a shrill alarming note he
+calls all the swallows and martins about him; who pursue in a body,
+and buffet and strike their enemy till they have driven him from the
+village; darting down from above on his back, and rising in a
+perpendicular line in perfect security. This bird will also sound the
+alarm, and strike at cats when they climb on the roofs of houses, or
+otherwise approach the nest. Each species of _hirundo_ drinks as it
+flies along, sipping the surface of the water; but the swallow alone
+in general washes on the wing, by dropping into a pool for many times
+together: in very hot weather house-martins and bank-martins also dip
+and wash a little.
+
+The swallow is a delicate songster, and in soft sunny weather sings
+both perching and flying; on trees in a kind of concert, and on
+chimney-tops: it is also a bold flier, ranging to distant downs and
+commons even in windy weather, which the other species seems much to
+dislike; nay, even frequenting exposed seaport towns, and making
+little excursions over the salt water. Horsemen on the wide downs are
+often closely attended by a little party of swallows for miles
+together, which plays before and behind them, sweeping around and
+collecting all the skulking insects that are roused by the trampling
+of the horses' feet: when the wind blows hard, without this expedient,
+they are often forced to settle to pick up their lurking prey....
+
+A certain swallow built for two years together on the handles of a
+pair of garden shears that were stuck up against the boards in an
+outhouse, and therefore must have her nest spoiled whenever that
+implement was wanted; and what is stranger still, another bird of the
+same species built its nest on the wings and body of an owl that
+happened by accident to hang dead and dry from the rafter of a barn.
+This owl, with the nest on its wings, and with eggs in the nest, was
+brought as a curiosity worthy of the most elegant private museum in
+Great Britain.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 45: From "The Natural History of Selborne," being a letter
+to the Hon. Daines Barrington.]
+
+
+
+
+ADAM SMITH
+
+     Born in 1723, died in 1790; educated at Glasgow and Oxford;
+     lecturer in Edinburgh in 1748; professor in Glasgow in 1751;
+     became tutor to the Duke of Buccleuch in 1763; traveled on
+     the Continent in 1764-66; lived afterwards in retirement at
+     Kirkcaldy; became Commissioner of Customs in Edinburgh in
+     1778; elected Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow in
+     1787; his "Moral Sentiments" published in 1759; his "Wealth
+     of Nations" in 1776.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF AMBITION MISDIRECTED[46]
+
+
+To attain to this envied situation, the candidates for fortune too
+frequently abandon the paths of virtue; for unhappily, the road which
+leads to the one, and that which leads to the other, lie sometimes in
+very opposite directions. But the ambitious man flatters himself that,
+in the splendid situation to which he advances, he will have so many
+means of commanding the respect and admiration of mankind, and will be
+enabled to act with such superior propriety and grace, that the luster
+of his future conduct will entirely cover or efface the foulness of
+the steps by which he arrived at that elevation. In many governments
+the candidates for the highest stations are above the law, and if they
+can attain the object of their ambition, they have no fear of being
+called to account for the means by which they acquired it. They often
+endeavor, therefore, not only by fraud and falsehood, the ordinary and
+vulgar arts of intrigue and cabal, but sometimes by the perpetration
+of the most enormous crimes, by murder and assassination, by rebellion
+and civil war, to supplant and destroy those who oppose or stand in
+the way of their greatness. They more frequently miscarry than
+succeed, and commonly gain nothing but the disgraceful punishment
+which is due to their crimes.
+
+But tho they should be so lucky as to attain that wished-for
+greatness, they are always most miserably disappointed in the
+happiness which they expect to enjoy in it. It is not ease or
+pleasure, but always honor, of one kind or another, tho frequently an
+honor very ill understood, that the ambitious man really pursues. But
+the honor of his exalted station appears, both in his own eyes and in
+those of other people, polluted and defiled by the baseness of the
+means through which he rose to it. Tho by the profusion of every
+liberal expense; tho by excessive indulgence in every profligate
+pleasure--the wretched but usual resource of ruined characters; tho by
+the hurry of public business, or by the prouder and more dazzling
+tumult of war, he may endeavor to efface, both from his own memory and
+from that of other people, the remembrance of what he has done, that
+remembrance never fails to pursue him. He invokes in vain the dark and
+dismal powers of forgetfulness and oblivion. He remembers himself what
+he has done, and that remembrance tells him that other people must
+likewise remember it. Amidst all the gaudy pomp of the most
+ostentatious greatness, amidst the venal and vile adulation of the
+great and of the learned, amidst the more innocent tho more foolish
+acclamations of the common people, amidst all the pride of conquest
+and the triumph of successful war, he is still secretly pursued by the
+avenging furies of shame and remorse; and while glory seems to
+surround him on all sides, he himself, in his own imagination, sees
+black and foul infamy fast pursuing him, and every moment ready to
+overtake him from behind.
+
+Even the great Cæsar, tho he had the magnanimity to dismiss his
+guards, could not dismiss his suspicions. The remembrance of Pharsalia
+still haunted and pursued him. When, at the request of the senate, he
+had the generosity to pardon Marcellus, he told that assembly that he
+was not unaware of the designs which were carrying on against his
+life; but that, as he had lived long enough both for nature and for
+glory, he was contented to die, and therefore despised all
+conspiracies. He had, perhaps, lived long enough for nature; but the
+man who felt himself the object of such deadly resentment, from those
+whose favor he wished to gain, and whom he still wished to consider as
+his friends, had certainly lived too long for real glory, or for all
+the happiness which he could ever hope to enjoy in the love and esteem
+of his equals.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE ADVANTAGES OF A DIVISION OF LABOR[47]
+
+
+Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or day-laborer
+in a civilized and thriving country, and you will perceive that the
+number of people, of whose industry a part, tho but a small part, has
+been employed in procuring him this accommodation, exceeds all
+computation. The woolen coat, for example, which covers the
+day-laborer, as coarse and rough as it may appear, is the product of
+the joint labor of a great multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the
+sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the
+scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many
+others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even
+this homely production.
+
+How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have been employed in
+transporting the materials from some of those workmen to others, who
+often live in a very distant part of the country! How much commerce
+and navigation in particular, how many ship-builders, sailors,
+sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order to bring
+together the different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often come
+from the remotest corners of the world! What a variety of labor, too,
+is necessary in order to produce the tools of the meanest of those
+workmen!
+
+To say nothing of such complicated machines as the ship of the sailor,
+the mill of the fuller, or even the loom of the weaver, let us
+consider only what a variety of labor is requisite in order to form
+that very simple machine, the shears with which the shepherd clips the
+wool. The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, the
+feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made use of in
+the smelting-house, the brick-maker, the bricklayer, the workmen who
+attend the furnace, the millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of
+them join their different arts in order to produce them.
+
+Were we to examine in the same manner all the different parts of his
+dress and household furniture, the coarse linen shirt which he wears
+next his skin, the shoes which cover his feet, the bed which he lies
+on, and all the different parts which compose it, the kitchen-grate at
+which he prepares his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for
+that purpose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him,
+perhaps, by a long sea and a long land carriage, all the other
+utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives
+and forks, the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and
+divides his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his
+bread and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the
+light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the knowledge and
+art requisite for preparing that beautiful and happy invention,
+without which these northern parts of the world could scarce have
+afforded a very comfortable habitation, together with the tools of all
+the different workmen employed in producing those different
+conveniences; if we examine, I say, all these things, and consider
+what a variety of labor is employed about each of them, we shall be
+sensible that, without the assistance and cooperation of many
+thousands, the very meanest person in a civilized country could not be
+provided, even according to what we very falsely imagine the easy and
+simple manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Compared, indeed,
+with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his accommodation must
+no doubt appear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be true,
+perhaps, that the accommodation of a European prince does not always
+so much exceed that of an industrious and frugal peasant, as the
+accommodation of the latter exceeds that of many an African king, the
+absolute masters of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked
+savages.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 46: From the "Theory of Moral Sentiments."]
+
+[Footnote 47: From "The Wealth of Nations."]
+
+
+
+
+SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE
+
+     Born in 1723, died in 1780; professor of Common Law at
+     Oxford in 1758; justice in the Court of Common Pleas in
+     1770; published his "Commentaries" in 1765-68, eight
+     editions appearing in his own lifetime, and innumerable ones
+     since.
+
+
+
+
+PROFESSIONAL SOLDIERS IN FREE COUNTRIES[48]
+
+
+In a land of liberty it is extremely dangerous to make a distinct
+order of the profession of arms. In absolute monarchies this is
+necessary for the safety of the prince, and arises from the main
+principle of their constitution, which is that of governing by fear;
+but in free states the profession of a soldier, taken singly and
+merely as a profession, is justly an object of jealousy. In these no
+man should take up arms, but with a view to defend his country and its
+laws; he puts not off the citizen when he enters the camp; but it is
+because he is a citizen, and would wish to continue so, that he makes
+himself for a while a soldier. The laws therefore and constitution of
+these kingdoms know no such state as that of a perpetual standing
+soldier, bred up to no other profession than that of war; and it was
+not till the reign of Henry VII that the kings of England had so much
+as a guard about their persons.
+
+In the time of our Saxon ancestors, as appears from Edward the
+Confessor's laws, the military force of this kingdom was in the hands
+of the dukes or heretochs, who were constituted through every province
+and county in the kingdom; being taken out of the principal nobility,
+and such as were most remarkable for being "_sapientes, fideles, et
+animosi_." Their duty was to lead and regulate the English armies,
+with a very unlimited power; "_prout eis visum fuerit, ad honorem
+coronæ et utilitatem regni_." And because of this great power they
+were elected by the people in their full assembly, or folkmote, in the
+manner as sheriffs were elected; following still that old fundamental
+maxim of the Saxon constitution, that where any officer was entrusted
+with such power, as if abused might tend to the oppression of the
+people, that power was delegated to him by the vote of the people
+themselves. So, too, among the ancient Germans, the ancestors of our
+Saxon forefathers, they had their dukes, as well as kings, with an
+independent power over the military, as the kings had over the civil
+state. The dukes were elective, the kings hereditary; for so only can
+be consistently understood that passage of Tacitus, "_reges ex
+nobilitate, duces ex virtute sumunt_"; in constituting their kings,
+the family or blood royal was regarded; in choosing their dukes or
+leaders, warlike merit; just as Cæsar relates of their ancestors in
+his time, that whenever they went to war, by way either of attack or
+defense, they elected leaders to command them. This large share of
+power, thus conferred by the people, tho intended to preserve the
+liberty of the subject, was perhaps unreasonably detrimental to the
+prerogative of the crown; and accordingly we find ill use made of it
+by Edric, Duke of Mercia, in the reign of King Edmund Ironside, who,
+by his office of duke or heretoch, was entitled to a large command in
+the king's army, and by his repeated treacheries at last transferred
+the crown to Canute the Dane.
+
+It seems universally agreed by all historians, that King Alfred first
+settled a national militia in this kingdom, and by his prudent
+discipline made all the subjects of his dominion soldiers; but we are
+unfortunately left in the dark as to the particulars of this his so
+celebrated regulation; tho, from what was last observed, the dukes
+seem to have been left in possession of too large and independent a
+power; which enabled Duke Harold on the death of Edward the Confessor,
+tho a stranger to the royal blood, to mount for a short space the
+throne of this kingdom, in prejudice of Edgar Atheling the rightful
+heir.
+
+Upon the Norman Conquest the feudal law was introduced here in all its
+rigor, the whole of which is built on a military plan. I shall not now
+enter into the particulars of that constitution, which belongs more
+properly to the next part of our "Commentaries"; but shall only
+observe that, in consequence thereof, all the lands in the kingdom
+were divided into what were called knights' fees, in number above
+sixty thousand (1); and for every knight's fee a knight or soldier,
+_miles_, was bound to attend the king in his wars, for forty days in a
+year (2); in which space of time, before war was reduced to a science,
+the campaign was generally finished, and a kingdom either conquered
+or victorious. By this means the king had, without any expense, an
+army of sixty thousand men always ready at his command. And
+accordingly we find one, among the laws of William the Conqueror,
+which in the king's name commands and firmly enjoins the personal
+attendance of all knights and others: "_quod habeant et teneant se
+semper in armis et equis, ut decet et oportet; et quod semper sint
+prompti et parati ad servitium suum integrum nobis explendum et
+peragendum, cum opus adfuerit, secundum quod debent feodis et
+tenementis suis de jure nobis facere_." This personal service in
+process of time degenerated into pecuniary commutations or aids, and
+at last the military part of the feudal system was abolished at the
+Restoration....
+
+As the fashion of keeping standing armies, which was first introduced
+by Charles VII in France, 1445 A.D., has of late years universally
+prevailed over Europe (tho some of its potentates, being unable
+themselves to maintain them, are obliged to have recourse to richer
+powers, and receive subsidiary pensions for that purpose), it has also
+for many years past been annually judged necessary by our legislature,
+for the safety of the kingdom, the defense of the possessions of the
+crown of Great Britain, and the preservation of the balance of power
+in Europe, to maintain even in time of peace a standing body of
+troops, under the command of the crown; who are, however, _ipso facto_
+disbanded at the expiration of every year, unless continued by
+Parliament. And it was enacted by statute (10 W. III, c. 1) that not
+more than twelve thousand regular forces should be kept on foot in
+Ireland, tho paid at the charge of that kingdom; which permission is
+extended by statute (8 Geo. III, c. 13) to 16,235 men, in time of
+peace.
+
+To prevent the executive power from being able to oppress, says Baron
+Montesquieu,[49] it is requisite that the armies with which it is
+entrusted should consist of the people, and have the same spirit with
+the people; as was the case at Rome, till Marius new modeled the
+legions by enlisting the rabble of Italy, and laid the foundation of
+all the military tyranny that ensued. Nothing, then, according to
+these principles, ought to be more guarded against in a free state,
+than making the military power, when such a one is necessary to be
+kept on foot, a body too distinct from the people. Like ours, it
+should be wholly composed of natural subjects; it ought only to be
+enlisted for a short and limited time; the soldiers also should live
+intermixt with the people; no separate camp, no barracks, no inland
+fortresses should be allowed. And perhaps it might be still better if,
+by dismissing a stated number, and enlisting others at every renewal
+of their term, a circulation could be kept up between the army and the
+people, and the citizen and the soldier be mere intimately connected
+together.
+
+To keep this body of troops in order, an annual act of Parliament
+likewise passes, "to punish mutiny and desertion, and for the better
+payment of the army and their quarters." This regulates the manner in
+which they are to be dispersed among the several innkeepers and
+victualers throughout the kingdom, and establishes a law martial for
+their government. By this, among other things, it is enacted that if
+any officer or soldier shall excite, or join any mutiny, or, knowing
+of it, shall not give notice to the commanding officer; or shall
+desert, or list in any other regiment, or sleep upon his post, or
+leave it before he is relieved, or hold correspondence with a rebel or
+enemy, or strike or use violence to his superior officer, or shall
+disobey his lawful commands; such offender shall suffer such
+punishment a court martial shall inflict, tho it extend to death
+itself.
+
+However expedient the most strict regulations may be in time of actual
+war, yet in times of profound peace a little relaxation of military
+rigor would not, one should hope, be productive of much inconvenience.
+And upon this principle, tho by our standing laws (still remaining in
+force, tho not attended to), desertion in time of war is made felony,
+without benefit of clergy, and the offense is triable by a jury and
+before justices at the common law; yet, by our militia laws before
+mentioned, a much lighter punishment is inflicted for desertion in
+time of peace. So, by the Roman law also, desertion in time of war was
+punished with death, but more mildly in time of tranquillity. But our
+Mutiny Act makes no such distinction; for any of the faults above
+mentioned are, equally at all times, punishable with death itself, if
+a court martial shall think proper.
+
+This discretionary power of the court martial is indeed to be guided
+by the directions of the crown; which, with regard to military
+offenses, has almost an absolute legislative power. "His Majesty,"
+says the act, "may form articles of war, and constitute courts
+martial, with power to try any crime by such articles, and inflict
+penalties by sentence or judgment of the same." A vast and most
+important trust! an unlimited power to create crimes, and annex to
+them any punishments, not extending to life or limb! These are indeed
+forbidden to be inflicted, except for crimes declared to be so
+punishable by this act; which crimes we have just enumerated, and
+among which we may observe that any disobedience to lawful commands is
+one. Perhaps in some future revision of this act, which is in many
+respects hastily penned, it may be thought worthy the wisdom of
+Parliament to ascertain the limits of military subjection, and to
+enact express articles of war for the government of the army, as is
+done for the government of the navy; especially as, by our
+constitution, the nobility and the gentry of the kingdom, who serve
+their country as militia officers, are annually subjected to the same
+arbitrary rule during their time of exercise.
+
+One of the greatest advantages of our English law is that not only the
+crimes themselves which it punishes, but also the penalties which it
+inflicts, are ascertained and notorious; nothing is left to arbitrary
+discretion; the king by his judges dispenses what the law has
+previously ordained, but is not himself the legislator. How much
+therefore is it to be regretted that a set of men, whose bravery has
+so often preserved the liberties of their country, should be reduced
+to a state of servitude in the midst of a nation of free men! for Sir
+Edward Coke[50] will inform us that it is one of the genuine marks of
+servitude, to have the law, which is our rule of action, either
+concealed or precarious; "_misera est servitus ubi jus est vagum aut
+incognitum_." Nor is this the state of servitude quite consistent with
+the maxims of sound policy observed by other free nations. For the
+greater the general liberty is which any state enjoys, the more
+cautious has it usually been in introducing slavery in any particular
+order or profession. These men, as Baron Montesquieu observes, seeing
+the liberty which others possess, and which they themselves are
+excluded from, are apt (like eunuchs in the eastern seraglios) to live
+in a state of perpetual envy and hatred toward the rest of the
+community, and indulge a malignant pleasure in contributing to destroy
+those privileges to which they can never be admitted. Hence have many
+free states, by departing from this rule, been endangered by the
+revolt of their slaves; while in absolute and despotic governments,
+where no real liberty exists, and consequently no invidious
+comparisons can be formed, such incidents are extremely rare. Two
+precautions are therefore advised to be observed in all prudent and
+free governments: 1. To prevent the introduction of slavery at all;
+or, 2. If it be already introduced, not to entrust those slaves with
+arms; who will then find themselves an overmatch for the freemen. Much
+less ought the soldiery to be an exception to the people in general.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 48: From the "Commentaries on the Laws of England."]
+
+[Footnote 49: Author of "The Spirit of the Laws."]
+
+[Footnote 50: Noted as jurist and as the author of comments on
+Littleton's "Tenures," a book commonly known as "Coke Upon Littleton."
+The great blot on his noble reputation is the brutality with which he
+prosecuted Sir Walter Raleigh.]
+
+
+
+
+OLIVER GOLDSMITH
+
+     Born in Ireland in 1728, died in 1774; educated at Trinity
+     College, Dublin; studied medicine in Edinburgh; traveled on
+     the Continent, chiefly on foot, in 1755-56; became a writer
+     for periodicals in London in 1757; published "The Present
+     State of Polite Learning" in 1759, "The Citizen of the
+     World" in 1762; "The Traveler" in 1765; "The Vicar of
+     Wakefield" in 1766; "The Deserted Village" in 1770.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE AMBITIONS OF THE VICAR'S FAMILY[51]
+
+
+I now began to find that all my long and painful lectures upon
+temperance, simplicity, and contentment were entirely disregarded. The
+distinctions lately paid us by our betters awakened that pride which I
+had laid asleep, but not removed. Our windows again, as formerly, were
+filled with washes for the neck and face. The sun was dreaded as an
+enemy to the skin without doors, and the fire as a spoiler of the
+complexion within. My wife observed that rising too early would hurt
+her daughters' eyes, that working after dinner would redden their
+noses, and she convinced me that the hands never looked so white as
+when they did nothing. Instead therefore of finishing George's shirts,
+we now had them new-modeling their old gauzes, or flourishing upon
+catgut. The poor Miss Flamboroughs, their former gay companions, were
+cast off as mean acquaintance, and the whole conversation ran upon
+high life and high-lived company, with pictures, taste, Shakespeare,
+and the musical glasses.
+
+But we could have borne all this, had not a fortune-telling gipsy come
+to raise us into perfect sublimity. The tawny sibyl no sooner appeared
+than my girls came running to me for a shilling apiece, to cross her
+hand with silver. To say the truth, I was tired of being always wise,
+and could not help gratifying their request, because I loved to see
+them happy. I gave each of them a shilling, tho for the honor of the
+family it must be observed that they never went without money
+themselves, as my wife always generously let them have a guinea each
+to keep in their pockets, but with strict injunctions never to change
+it. After they had been closeted up with the fortune-teller for some
+time, I knew by their looks upon their returning that they had been
+promised something great. "Well, my girls, how have you sped? Tell me,
+Livy, has the fortune-teller given thee a pennyworth?" "I protest,
+papa," says the girl, "I believe she deals with somebody that is not
+right, for she positively declared that I am to be married to a squire
+in less than a twelvemonth!" "Well now, Sophy, my child," said I, "and
+what sort of a husband are you to have?" "Sir," replied she, "I am to
+have a lord soon after my sister has married the squire." "How," cried
+I, "is that all you are to have for your two shillings? Only a lord
+and a squire for two shillings! You fools, I could have promised you a
+prince and a nabob for half the money!"
+
+This curiosity of theirs, however, was attended with very serious
+effects: we now began to think ourselves designed by the stars to
+something exalted, and already anticipated our future grandeur....
+
+It has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it once
+more, that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more
+pleasing than those crowned with fruition. In the first case we cook
+the dish to our own appetite; in the latter, nature cooks it for us.
+It is impossible to repeat the train of agreeable reveries we called
+up for our entertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as once more
+rising; and as the whole parish asserted that the Squire was in love
+with my daughter, she was actually so with him, for they persuaded her
+into the passion. In this agreeable interval my wife had the most
+lucky dreams in the world, which she took care to tell us every
+morning with great solemnity and exactness. It was one night a coffin
+and crossbones, the sign of an approaching wedding; at another time
+she imagined her daughter's pockets filled with farthings, a certain
+sign of their being shortly stuffed with gold. The girls themselves
+had their omens. They felt strange kisses on their lips; they saw
+rings in the candle; purses bounced from the fire, and true-love knots
+lurked in the bottom of every teacup.
+
+Toward the end of the week we received a card from the town ladies, in
+which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our family at
+church the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I could perceive, in
+consequence of this, my wife and daughters in close conference
+together, and now and then glancing at me with looks that betrayed a
+latent plot. To be sincere, I had strong suspicions that some absurd
+proposal was preparing for appearing with splendor the next day. In
+the evening they began their operations in a very regular manner, and
+my wife undertook to conduct the siege.
+
+After tea, when I seemed in spirits, she began thus: "I fancy, Charles
+my dear, we shall have a great deal of good company at our church
+tomorrow." "Perhaps we may, my dear," returned I; "tho you need be
+under no uneasiness about that; you shall have a sermon whether there
+be or not." "That is what I expect," returned she; "but I think, my
+dear, we ought to appear there as decently as possible, for who knows
+what may happen?" "Your precautions," replied I, "are highly
+commendable. A decent behavior and appearance in church is what charms
+me. We should be devout and humble, cheerful and serene." "Yes," cried
+she, "I know that; but I mean we should go there in as proper a manner
+as possible; not altogether like the scrubs about us." "You are quite
+right, my dear," returned I; "and I was going to make the very same
+proposal. The proper manner of going is to go there as early as
+possible, to have time for meditation before the service begins."
+"Phoo, Charles!" interrupted she; "all that is very true, but not what
+I would be at. I mean we should go there genteelly. You know the
+church is two miles off, and I protest I don't like to see my
+daughters trudging up to their pew all blowzed and red with walking,
+and looking for all the world as if they had been winners at a
+smock-race. Now, my dear, my proposal is this: there are our two
+plow-horses, the colt that has been in our family these nine years,
+and his companion Blackberry that has scarcely done an earthly thing
+this month past. They are both grown fat and lazy. Why should not they
+do something as well as we? And let me tell you, when Moses has
+trimmed them a little they will cut a very tolerable figure."
+
+To this proposal I objected that walking would be twenty times more
+genteel than such a paltry conveyance, as Blackberry was wall-eyed and
+the colt wanted a tail; that they had never been broke to the rein,
+but had a hundred vicious tricks; and that we had but one saddle and
+pillion in the whole house. All these objections, however, were
+overruled; so that I was obliged to comply. The next morning I
+perceived them not a little busy in collecting such materials as might
+be necessary for the expedition, but as I found it would be a business
+of time, I walked on to the church before, and they promised speedily
+to follow. I waited near an hour in the reading-desk for their
+arrival, but not finding them come as I expected, I was obliged to
+begin, and went through the service, not without some uneasiness at
+finding them absent. This was increased when all was finished, and no
+appearance of the family.
+
+I therefore walked back to the horse-way, which was five miles around,
+tho the foot-way was but two, and when I got about half-way home,
+perceived the procession marching slowly forward toward the church; my
+son, my wife, and the two little ones exalted upon one horse, and my
+two daughters upon the other. I demanded the cause of their delay; but
+I soon found by their looks they had met with a thousand misfortunes
+on the road. The horses had at first refused to move from the door,
+till Mr. Burchell was kind enough to beat them forward for about two
+hundred yards with his cudgel. Next, the straps of my wife's pillion
+broke down, and they were obliged to stop to repair them before they
+could proceed. After that, one of the horses took it into his head to
+stand still, and neither blows nor entreaties could prevail with him
+to proceed. They were just recovering from this dismal situation when
+I found them; but perceiving everything safe, I own their present
+mortification did not much displease me, as it would give me many
+opportunities of future triumph, and teach my daughters more humility.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+SAGACITY IN INSECTS[52]
+
+
+Animals in general are sagacious in proportion as they cultivate
+society. The elephant and the beaver show the greatest signs of this
+when united; but when man intrudes into their communities they lose
+all their spirit of industry and testify but a very small share of
+that sagacity for which, when in a social state, they are so
+remarkable.
+
+Among insects, the labors of the bee and the ant have employed the
+attention and admiration of the naturalist; but their whole sagacity
+is lost upon separation, and a single bee or ant seems destitute of
+every degree of industry, is the most stupid insect imaginable,
+languishes for a time in solitude, and soon dies.
+
+Of all the solitary insects I have ever remarked, the spider is the
+most sagacious; and its actions, to me who have attentively considered
+them, seem almost to exceed belief. This insect is formed by nature
+for a state of war, not only upon other insects, but upon each other.
+For this state nature seems perfectly well to have formed it. Its head
+and breast are covered with a strong natural coat of mail, which is
+impenetrable to the attempts of every other insect, and its belly is
+enveloped in a soft, pliant skin, which eludes the sting even of a
+wasp. Its legs are terminated by strong claws, not unlike those of a
+lobster; and their vast length, like spears, serve to keep every
+assailant at a distance.
+
+Not worse furnished for observation than for an attack or a defense,
+it has several eyes, large, transparent, and covered with a horny
+substance, which, however, does not impede its vision. Besides this,
+it is furnished with a forceps above the mouth, which serves to kill
+or secure the prey already caught in its claws or its net.
+
+Such are the implements of war with which the body is immediately
+furnished; but its net to entangle the enemy seems what it chiefly
+trusts to, and what it takes most pains to render as complete as
+possible. Nature has furnished the body of this little creature with a
+glutinous liquid, which, proceeding from the anus, it spins into
+thread, coarser or finer, as it chooses to contract or dilate its
+sphincter. In order to fix its thread when it begins to weave, it
+emits a small drop of its liquid against the wall, which hardening by
+degrees, serves to hold the thread very firmly. Then receding from its
+first point, as it recedes the thread lengthens; and when the spider
+has come to the place where the other end of the thread should be
+fixt, gathering up with its claws the thread which would otherwise be
+too slack, it is stretched tightly and fixt in the same manner to the
+wall as before.
+
+In this manner it spins and fixes several threads parallel to each
+other, which, so to speak serve as the warp to the intended web. To
+form the woof, it spins in the same manner its thread, transversely
+fixing one end to the first thread that was spun, and which is always
+the strongest of the whole web, and the other to the wall. All these
+threads being newly spun, are glutinous and therefore stick to each
+other wherever they happen to touch; and in those parts of the web
+most exposed to be torn, our natural artist strengthens them, by
+doubling the threads sometimes sixfold.
+
+Thus far naturalists have gone in the description of this animal; what
+follows is the result of my own observation upon that species of the
+insect called a house spider. I perceived about four years ago a large
+spider in one corner of my room, making its web; and tho the maid
+frequently leveled her fatal broom against the labors of the little
+animal, I had the good fortune then to prevent its destruction; and I
+may say it more than paid me by the entertainment it afforded.
+
+In three days the web was with incredible diligence completed; nor
+could I avoid thinking that the insect seemed to exult in its new
+abode. It frequently traversed it round, examined the strength of
+every part of it, retired into its hole, and came out very frequently.
+The first enemy, however, it had to encounter, was another and a much
+larger spider, which, having no web of its own, and having probably
+exhausted all its stock in former labors of this kind, came to invade
+the property of its neighbor. Soon, then, a terrible encounter ensued,
+in which the invader seemed to have the victory, and the laborious
+spider was obliged to take refuge in its hole. Upon this I perceived
+the victor using every art to draw the enemy from his stronghold. He
+seemed to go off, but quickly returned; and when he found all arts
+vain, began to demolish the new web without mercy. This brought on
+another battle, and, contrary to my expectations, the laborious spider
+became conqueror, and fairly killed his antagonist.
+
+Now, then, in peaceable possession of what was justly its own, it
+waited three days with the utmost impatience, repairing the breaches
+of its web, and taking no sustenance that I could perceive. At last,
+however, a large blue fly fell into the snare, and struggled hard to
+get loose. The spider gave it leave to entangle itself as much as
+possible, but it seemed to be too strong for the cobweb. I must own I
+was greatly surprized when I saw the spider immediately sally out,
+and in less than a minute weave a new net around its captive, by which
+the motion of its wings was stopt; and when it was fairly hampered in
+this manner, it was seized and dragged into the hole.
+
+In this manner it lived in a precarious state; and nature seemed to
+have fitted it for such a life, for upon a single fly it subsisted for
+more than a week. I once put a wasp into the net; but when the spider
+came out in order to seize it as usual, upon perceiving what kind of
+an enemy it had to deal with, it instantly broke all the bands that
+held it fast and contributed all that lay in its power to disengage so
+formidable an antagonist. When the wasp was at liberty, I expected the
+spider would have set about repairing the breaches that were made in
+its net, but those it seems were irreparable; wherefore the cobweb was
+now entirely forsaken, and a new one begun, which was completed in the
+usual time.
+
+I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a single spider could
+furnish; wherefore I destroyed this, and the insect set about another.
+When I destroyed the other also its whole stock seemed entirely
+exhausted, and it could spin no more. The arts it made use of to
+support itself, now deprived of its great means of subsistence, were
+indeed surprizing. I have seen it roll up its legs like a ball and lie
+motionless for hours together, but cautiously watching all the time.
+When a fly happened to approach sufficiently near, it would dart out
+all at once, and often seize its prey.
+
+Of this life, however, it soon began to grow weary, and resolved to
+invade the possession of some other spider, since it could not make a
+web of its own. It formed an attack upon a neighboring fortification
+with great vigor, and at first was as vigorously repulsed. Not
+daunted, however, with one defeat, in this manner it continued to lay
+siege to another's web for three days, and at length, having killed
+the defendant, actually took possession. When smaller flies happen to
+fall into the snare, the spider does not sally out at once, but very
+patiently waits till it is sure of them; for upon his immediately
+approaching, the terror of his appearance might give the captive
+strength sufficient to get loose; the manner then is to wait patiently
+till by ineffectual and impotent struggles the captive has wasted all
+its strength, and then it becomes a certain and easy conquest.
+
+The insect I am now describing lived three years; every year it
+changed its skin and got a new set of legs. I have sometimes plucked
+off a leg, which grew again in two or three days. At first it dreaded
+my approach to its web, but at last it became so familiar as to take a
+fly out of my hand; and upon my touching any part of the web, would
+immediately leave its hole, prepared either for a defense or an
+attack.
+
+To complete this description, it may be observed that the male spiders
+are much less than the female, and that the latter are oviparous. When
+they come to lay, they spread a part of their web under the eggs, and
+then roll them up carefully, as we roll up things in a cloth, and thus
+hatch them in their hole. If disturbed in their holes they never
+attempt to escape without carrying this young brood, in their forceps,
+away with them, and thus frequently are sacrificed to their paternal
+affection.
+
+As soon as ever the young ones leave their artificial covering, they
+begin to spin, and almost sensibly seem to grow bigger. If they have
+the good fortune, when even but a day old, to catch a fly, they fall
+to with good appetites; but they live sometimes three or four days
+without any sort of sustenance, and yet still continue to grow larger,
+so as every day to double their former size. As they grow old,
+however, they do not still continue to increase, but their legs only
+continue to grow longer; and when a spider becomes entirely stiff with
+age and unable to seize its prey, it dies at length of hunger.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+A CHINAMAN'S VIEW OF LONDON[53]
+
+
+Think not, O thou guide of my youth! that absence can impair my
+respect, or interposing trackless deserts blot your reverend figure
+from my memory. The further I travel I feel the pain of separation
+with stronger force; those ties that bind me to my native country and
+you are still unbroken. By every remove I only drag a greater length
+of chain.
+
+Could I find aught worth transmitting from so remote a region as this
+to which I have wandered I should gladly send it; but, instead of
+this, you must be contented with a renewal of my former professions
+and an imperfect account of a people with whom I am as yet but
+superficially acquainted. The remarks of a man who has been but three
+days in the country can only be those obvious circumstances which
+force themselves upon the imagination. I consider myself here as a
+newly created being introduced into a new world; every object strikes
+with wonder and surprize. The imagination, still unsated, seems the
+only active principle of the mind. The most trifling occurrences give
+pleasure till the gloss of novelty is worn away. When I have ceased to
+wonder, I may possibly grow wise; I may then call the reasoning
+principle to my aid, and compare those objects with each other, which
+were before examined without reflection.
+
+Behold me then in London, gazing at the strangers, and they at me; it
+seems they find somewhat absurd in my figure; and had I been never
+from home, it is possible I might find an infinite fund of ridicule in
+theirs; but by long traveling I am taught to laugh at folly alone, and
+to find nothing truly ridiculous but villainy and vice.
+
+When I had quitted my native country, and crossed the Chinese wall, I
+fancied every deviation from the customs and manners of China was a
+departing from nature. I smiled at the blue lips and red foreheads of
+the Tonguese; and could hardly contain when I saw the Daures dress
+their heads with horns. The Ostiacs powdered with red earth; and the
+Calmuck beauties, tricked out in all the finery of sheepskin, appeared
+highly ridiculous: but I soon perceived that the ridicule lay not in
+them, but in me; that I falsely condemned others for absurdity
+because they happened to differ from a standard originally founded in
+prejudice or partiality.
+
+I find no pleasure therefore in taxing the English with departing from
+nature in their external appearance, which is all I yet know of their
+character: it is possible they only endeavor to improve her simple
+plan, since every extravagance in dress proceeds from a desire of
+becoming more beautiful than nature made us; and this is so harmless a
+vanity that I not only pardon but approve it. A desire to be more
+excellent than others is what actually makes us so; and as thousands
+find a livelihood in society by such appetites, none but the ignorant
+inveigh against them.
+
+You are not insensible, most reverend Fum Hoam, what numberless
+trades, even among the Chinese, subsist by the harmless pride of each
+other. Your nose-borers, feet-swathers, tooth-stainers,
+eyebrow-pluckers would all want bread should their neighbors want
+vanity. These vanities, however, employ much fewer hands in China than
+in England; and a fine gentleman or a fine lady here, drest up to the
+fashion, seems scarcely to have a single limb that does not suffer
+some distortions from art.
+
+To make a fine gentleman, several trades are required, but chiefly a
+barber. You have undoubtedly heard of the Jewish champion whose
+strength lay in his hair. One would think that the English were for
+placing all wisdom there. To appear wise nothing more is requisite
+here than for a man to borrow hair from the heads of all his neighbors
+and clap it like a bush on his own; the distributors of law and
+physic stick on such quantities that it is almost impossible, even in
+idea, to distinguish between the head and the hair.
+
+Those whom I have been now describing affect the gravity of the lion;
+those I am going to describe more resemble the pert vivacity of
+smaller animals. The barber, who is still master of the ceremonies,
+cuts their hair close to the crown, and then with a composition of
+meal and hog's lard plasters the whole in such a manner as to make it
+impossible to distinguish whether the patient wears a cap or a
+plaster; but, to make the picture more perfectly striking, conceive
+the tail of some beast, a greyhound's tail, or a pig's tail, for
+instance, appended to the back of the head, and reaching down to that
+place where tails in other animals are generally seen to begin; thus
+betailed and bepowdered, the man of taste fancies he improves in
+beauty, dresses up his hard-featured face in smiles, and attempts to
+look hideously tender. Thus equipped, he is qualified to make love,
+and hopes for success more from the powder on the outside of his head
+than the sentiments within.
+
+Yet when I consider what sort of a creature the fine lady is to whom
+he is supposed to pay his addresses, it is not strange to find him
+thus equipped in order to please. She is herself every whit as fond of
+powder, and tails, and hog's lard, as he. To speak my secret
+sentiments, most reverend Fum, the ladies here are horribly ugly; I
+can hardly endure the sight of them; they no way resemble the beauties
+of China: the Europeans have quite a different idea of beauty from
+us. When I reflect on the small-footed perfections of an Eastern
+beauty, how is it possible I should have eyes for a woman whose feet
+are ten inches long? I shall never forget the beauties of my native
+city of Nanfew. How very broad their faces! how very short their
+noses! how very little their eyes! how very thin their lips! how very
+black their teeth! the snow on the tops of Bao is not fairer than
+their cheeks; and their eyebrows are small as the line by the pencil
+of Quamsi. Here a lady with such perfections would be frightful; Dutch
+and Chinese beauties, indeed, have some resemblance, but English women
+are entirely different; red cheeks, big eyes, and teeth of a most
+odious whiteness, are not only seen here, but wished for; and then
+they have such masculine feet, as actually serve some for walking!
+
+Yet uncivil as Nature has been, they seem resolved to outdo her in
+unkindness; they use white powder, blue powder, and black powder; for
+their hair, and a red powder for the face on some particular
+occasions.
+
+They like to have the face of various colors, as among the Tatars of
+Koreki, frequently sticking on with spittle, little black patches on
+every part of it, except on the tip of the nose, which I have never
+seen with a patch. You'll have a better idea of their manner of
+placing these spots, when I have finished the map of an English face
+patched up to the fashion, which shall shortly be sent to increase
+your curious collection of paintings, medals, and monsters.
+
+But what surprizes more than all the rest is what I have just now been
+credibly informed by one of this country. "Most ladies here," says
+he, "have two faces; one face to sleep in, and another to show in
+company. The first is generally reserved for the husband and family at
+home; the other put on to please strangers abroad. The family face is
+often indifferent enough, but the outdoor one looks something better;
+this is always made at the toilet, where the looking-glass and
+toadeater sit in council, and settle the complexion of the day."
+
+I can't ascertain the truth of this remark; however, it is actually
+certain that they wear more clothes within doors than without, and I
+have seen a lady, who seemed to shudder at a breeze in her own
+apartment, appear half-naked in the streets. Farewell.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 51: From "The Vicar of Wakefield."]
+
+[Footnote 52: From "The Bee, Being Essays on the Most Interesting
+Subjects," and published in 1759. Of these essays eight had been
+previously published as weekly contributions.]
+
+[Footnote 53: Letter No. III in "The Citizen of the World," the writer
+being a Chinaman.]
+
+
+
+
+EDMUND BURKE
+
+     Born in Ireland in 1729, died is 1797; educated at Trinity
+     College, Dublin; elected to Parliament in 1766; made his
+     famous speech on American affairs in 1774; became
+     Paymaster-general and Privy Counselor in 1782; conducted the
+     impeachment trial of Warren Hastings in 1787-95; published
+     "Natural Society" in 1756; "The Sublime and Beautiful" in
+     1756; "The Present Discontent" in 1770; "Reflections on the
+     Revolution in France" in 1790.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE PRINCIPLES OF GOOD TASTE[54]
+
+
+On a superficial view we may seem to differ very widely from each
+other in our reasonings, and no less in our pleasures; but
+notwithstanding this difference, which I think to be rather apparent
+than real, it is probable that the standard both of reason and taste
+is the same in all human creatures. For if there were not some
+principles of judgment as well as of sentiment common to all mankind,
+no hold could possibly be taken either on their reason or their
+passions sufficient to maintain the ordinary correspondence of life.
+It appears indeed to be generally acknowledged that with regard to
+truth and falsehood there is something fixt. We find people in their
+disputes continually appealing to certain tests and standards, which
+are allowed on all sides, and are supposed to be established in our
+common nature.
+
+But there is not the same obvious concurrence in any uniform or
+settled principles which relate to taste. It is even commonly supposed
+that this delicate and aerial faculty, which seems too volatile to
+endure even the chains of a definition, can not be properly tried by
+any test, nor regulated by any standard. There is so continual a call
+for the exercise of the reasoning faculty, and it is so much
+strengthened by perpetual contention, that certain maxims of right
+reason seem to be tacitly settled amongst the most ignorant. The
+learned have improved on this rude science and reduced those maxims
+into a system. If taste has not been so happily cultivated, it was not
+that the subject was barren, but that the laborers were few or
+negligent; for to say the truth, there are not the same interesting
+motives to impel us to fix the one which urge us to ascertain the
+other.
+
+And after all, if men differ in their opinion concerning such matters,
+their difference is not attended with the same important consequences;
+else I make no doubt but that the logic of taste, if I may be allowed
+the expression, might very possibly be as well digested, and we might
+come to discuss matters of this nature with as much certainty as those
+which seem more immediately within the province of mere reason. And
+indeed, it is very necessary, at the entrance into such an inquiry as
+our present, to make this point as clear as possible; for if taste has
+no fixt principles, if the imagination is not affected according to
+some invariable and certain laws, our labor is like to be employed to
+very little purpose; as it must be judged a useless, if not an absurd
+undertaking, to lay down rules for caprice, and to set up for a
+legislator of whims and fancies.
+
+The term taste, like all other figurative terms, is not extremely
+accurate; the thing which we understand by it is far from a simple and
+determinate idea in the minds of most men, and it is therefore liable
+to uncertainty and confusion. I have no great opinion of a definition,
+the celebrated remedy for the cure of this disorder. For when we
+define, we seem in danger of circumscribing nature within the bounds
+of our own notions, which we often take up by hazard, or embrace on
+trust, or form out of a limited and partial consideration of the
+object before us, instead of extending our ideas to take in all that
+nature comprehends, according to her manner of combining. We are
+limited in our inquiry by the strict laws to which we have submitted
+at our setting out.
+
+     _... Circa vilem patulumque morabimur orbem,
+      Unde pudor proferre pedem vetet aut operis lex._
+
+A definition may be very exact, and yet go but a very little way
+toward informing us of the nature of the thing defined; but let the
+virtue of a definition be what it will, in the order of things, it
+seems rather to follow than to precede our inquiry, of which it ought
+to be considered as the result. It must be acknowledged that the
+methods of disquisition and teaching may be sometimes different, and
+on very good reason undoubtedly; but for my part, I am convinced that
+the method of teaching which approaches most nearly to the method of
+investigation is incomparably the best; since, not content with
+serving up a few barren and lifeless truths, it leads to the stock on
+which they grew; it tends to set the reader himself in the track of
+invention, and to direct him into those paths in which the author has
+made his own discoveries, if he should be so happy as to have made any
+that are valuable.
+
+But to cut off all pretense for caviling, I mean by the word Taste no
+more than that faculty or those faculties of the mind which are
+affected with, or which form a judgment of, the works of imagination
+and the elegant arts. This is, I think the most general idea of that
+word, and what is the least connected with any particular theory. And
+my point in this inquiry is, to find whether there are any principles
+on which the imagination is affected, so common to all, so grounded
+and certain, as to supply the means of reasoning satisfactorily about
+them. And such principles of taste I fancy there are, however
+paradoxical it may seem to those who on a superficial view imagine
+that there is so great a diversity of tastes, both in kind and degree,
+that nothing can be more determinate.
+
+All the natural powers in man, which I know, that are conversant about
+external objects are the senses, the imagination, and the judgment.
+And first with regard to the senses. We do and we must suppose, that
+as the conformation of their organs are nearly or altogether the same
+in all men, so the manner of perceiving external objects is in all men
+the same, or with little difference. We are satisfied that what
+appears to be light to one eye appears light to another; that what
+seems sweet to one palate is sweet to another; that what is dark and
+bitter to this man is likewise dark and bitter to that; and we
+conclude in the same manner of great and little, hard and soft, hot
+and cold, rough and smooth; and indeed of all the natural qualities
+and affections of bodies. If we suffer ourselves to imagine that their
+senses present to different men different images of things this
+skeptical proceeding will make every sort of reasoning on every
+subject vain and frivolous, even that skeptical reasoning itself which
+had persuaded us to entertain a doubt concerning the agreement of our
+perceptions.
+
+But as there will be little doubt that bodies present similar images
+to the whole species, it must necessarily be allowed that the
+pleasures and the pains which every object excites in one man, it must
+raise in all mankind, whilst it operates, naturally, simply, and by
+its proper powers only; for if we deny this, we must imagine that the
+same cause operating in the same manner, and on subjects of the same
+kind, will produce different effects, which would be highly absurd.
+Let us first consider this point in the sense of taste, and the rather
+as the faculty in question has taken its name from that sense. All men
+are agreed to call vinegar sour, honey sweet, and aloes bitter; and as
+they are all agreed in finding these qualities in those objects, they
+do not in the least differ concerning their effects with regard to
+pleasure and pain. They all concur in calling sweetness pleasant, and
+sourness and bitterness unpleasant.
+
+Here there is no diversity in their sentiments; and that there is not
+appears fully from the consent of all men in the metaphors which are
+taken from the sense of taste. A sour temper, bitter expressions,
+bitter curses, a bitter fate, are terms well and strongly understood
+by all. And we are altogether as well understood when we say a sweet
+disposition, a sweet person, a sweet condition, and the like. It is
+confest that custom and some other causes have made many deviations
+from the natural pleasures or pains which belong to these several
+tastes; but then the power of distinguishing between the natural and
+the acquired relish remains to the very last. A man frequently comes
+to prefer the taste of tobacco to that of sugar, and the flavor of
+vinegar to that of milk; but this makes no confusion in tastes, whilst
+he is sensible that the tobacco and vinegar are not sweet, and whilst
+he knows that habit alone has reconciled his palate to these alien
+pleasures. Even with such a person we may speak, and with sufficient
+precision, concerning tastes. But should any man be found who declares
+that to him tobacco has a taste like sugar, and that he can not
+distinguish between milk and vinegar; or that tobacco and vinegar are
+sweet, milk bitter, and sugar sour; we immediately conclude that the
+organs of this man are out of order and that his palate is utterly
+vitiated. We are as far from conferring with such a person upon tastes
+as from reasoning concerning the relations of quantity with one who
+should deny that all the parts together were equal to the whole. We do
+not call a man of this kind wrong in his notions, but absolutely mad.
+Exceptions of this sort, in either way, do not at all impeach our
+general rule, nor make us conclude that men have various principles
+concerning the relations of quantity or the taste of things. So that
+when it is said taste can not be disputed, it can only mean that no
+one can strictly answer what pleasure or pain some particular man may
+find from the taste of some particular thing. This indeed can not be
+disputed; but we may dispute, and with sufficient clearness too,
+concerning the things which are naturally pleasing or disagreeable to
+the sense. But when we talk of any peculiar or acquired relish, then
+we must know the habits, the prejudices, or the distempers of this
+particular man, and we must draw our conclusion from those.
+
+This agreement of mankind is not confined to the taste solely. The
+principle of pleasure derived from sight is the same in all. Light is
+more pleasing than darkness. Summer, when the earth is clad in green,
+when the heavens are serene and bright, is more agreeable than winter,
+when everything makes a different appearance. I never remember that
+anything beautiful, whether a man, a beast, a bird, or a plant, was
+ever shown, tho it were to a hundred people, that they did not all
+immediately agree that it was beautiful, tho some might have thought
+that it fell short of their expectation, or that other things were
+still finer. I believe no man thinks a goose to be more beautiful than
+a swan, or imagines that what they call a Friesland hen excels a
+peacock. It must be observed, too, that the pleasures of the sight are
+not nearly so complicated and confused and altered by unnatural habits
+and associations as the pleasures of the taste are; because the
+pleasures of the sight more commonly acquiesce in themselves, and are
+not so often altered by conditions which are independent of the sight
+itself.
+
+But things do not spontaneously present themselves to the palate as
+they do to the sight; they are generally applied to it, either as food
+or as medicine; and from the qualities which they possess for
+nutritive or medicinal purposes, they often form the palate by
+degrees, and by force of these associations. Thus opium is pleasing to
+Turks on account of the agreeable delirium it produces. Tobacco is the
+delight of Dutchmen, as it diffuses a torpor and pleasing
+stupefaction. Fermented spirits please our common people, because they
+banish care and all consideration of future or present evils. All of
+these would lie absolutely neglected if their properties had
+originally gone no further than the taste; but all these, together
+with tea and coffee, and some other things, have passed from the
+apothecary's shop to our tables, and were taken for health long before
+they were thought of for pleasure. The effect of the drug has made us
+use it frequently; and frequent use, combined with the agreeable
+effect, has made the taste itself at last agreeable. But this does not
+in the least perplex our reasoning, because we distinguish to the last
+the acquired from the natural relish. In describing the taste of an
+unknown fruit, you would scarcely say that it had a sweet and pleasant
+flavor like tobacco, opium, or garlic, altho you spoke to those who
+were in the constant use of these drugs, and had great pleasure in
+them.
+
+There is in all men a sufficient remembrance of the original natural
+causes of pleasure to enable them to bring all things offered to their
+senses to that standard, and to regulate their feelings and opinions
+by it. Suppose one who had so vitiated his palate as to take more
+pleasure in the taste of opium than in that of butter or honey to be
+presented with a bolus of squills; there is hardly any doubt but that
+he would prefer the butter or honey to this nauseous morsel, or to any
+other bitter drug to which he had not been accustomed; which proves
+that his palate was naturally like that of other men in all things,
+that it is still like the palate of other men in many things, and only
+vitiated in some particular points. For in judging of any new thing,
+even of a taste similar to that which he has been formed by habit to
+like, he finds his palate affected in the natural manner and on the
+common principles. Thus the pleasure of all senses, of the sight, and
+even of the taste, that most ambiguous of the senses, is the same in
+all, high and low, learned and unlearned.
+
+Besides the ideas, with their annexed pains and pleasures, which are
+presented by the sense the mind of man possesses a sort of creative
+power of its own; either in representing at pleasure the images of
+things in the order and manner in which they were received by the
+senses, or in combining those images in a new manner, and according to
+a different order. This power is called imagination; and to this
+belongs whatever is called wit, fancy, invention, and the like. But it
+must be observed that the power of the imagination is incapable of
+producing anything absolutely new; it can only vary the disposition of
+those ideas which it has received from the senses. Now the imagination
+is the most extensive province of pleasure and pain, as it is the
+region of our fears and our hopes, and of all our passions that are
+connected with them; and whatever is calculated to affect the
+imagination with these commanding ideas, by force of any original
+natural impression, must have the same power pretty equally over all
+men. For since the imagination is only the representation of the
+senses, it can only be pleased or displeased with the images, from the
+same principle on which the sense is pleased or displeased with the
+realities; and consequently there must be just as close an agreement
+in the imaginations as in the senses of men. A little attention will
+convince us that this must of necessity be the case.
+
+But in the imaginations, besides the pain or pleasure arising from the
+properties of the natural object, a pleasure is perceived from the
+resemblance which the imitation has to the original; the imagination,
+I conceive, can have no pleasure but what results from one or other of
+these causes. And these causes operate pretty uniformly upon all men,
+because they operate by principles in nature, and which are not
+derived from any particular habits or advantages. Mr. Locke very
+justly and finely observes of wit that it is chiefly conversant in
+tracing resemblances; he remarks at the same time that the business of
+judgment is rather in finding differences. It may perhaps appear, on
+this supposition, that there is no material distinction between the
+wit and the judgment, as they both seem to result from different
+operations of the same faculty of comparing.
+
+But in reality, whether they are or are not dependent on the same
+power of the mind, they differ so very materially in many respects
+that a perfect union of wit and judgment is one of the rarest things
+in the world. When two distinct objects are unlike to each other, it
+is only what we expect; things are in their common way, and therefore
+they make no impression on the imagination; but when two distinct
+objects have a resemblance, we are struck, we attend to them, and we
+are pleased. The mind of man has naturally a far greater alacrity and
+satisfaction in tracing resemblances than in searching for
+differences; because by making resemblances we produce new images; we
+unite, we create, we enlarge our stock: but in making distinctions we
+offer no food at all to the imagination; the task itself is more
+severe and irksome, and what pleasure we derive from it is something
+of a negative and indirect nature. A piece of news is told me in the
+morning; this, merely as a piece of news, as a fact added to my stock,
+gives me some pleasure. In the evening I find there was nothing in it.
+What do I gain by this but the dissatisfaction to find that I had been
+imposed upon?
+
+Hence it is that men are much more naturally inclined to belief than
+to incredulity. And it is upon this principle that the most ignorant
+and barbarous nations have frequently excelled in similitudes,
+comparisons, metaphors, and allegories, who have been weak and
+backward in distinguishing and sorting their ideas. And it is for a
+reason of this kind that Homer and the Oriental writers, tho very fond
+of similitudes, and tho they often strike out such as are truly
+admirable, seldom take care to have them exact; that is, they are
+taken with the general resemblance, they paint it strongly, and they
+take no notice of the difference which may be found between the
+things compared.
+
+Now, as the pleasure of resemblance is that which principally flatters
+the imagination, all men are nearly equal in this point, as far as
+their knowledge of the things represented or compared extends. The
+principle of this knowledge is very much accidental, as it depends
+upon experience and observation, and not on the strength or weakness
+of any natural faculty; and it is from this difference in knowledge
+that what we commonly, tho with no great exactness, call a difference
+in taste proceeds. A man to whom sculpture is new sees a barber's
+block, or some ordinary piece of statuary; he is immediately struck
+and pleased, because he sees something like a human figure; and,
+entirely taken up with this likeness, he does not at all attend to its
+defects. No person, I believe, at the first time of seeing a piece of
+imitation ever did. Some time after, we suppose that this novice
+lights upon a more artificial work of the same nature; he now begins
+to look with contempt on what he admired at first; not that he admired
+it even then for its unlikeness to a man, but for that general tho
+inaccurate resemblance which it bore to the human figure. What he
+admired at different times in these so different figures is strictly
+the same; and tho his knowledge is improved, his taste is not altered.
+Hitherto his mistake was from a want of knowledge in art, and this
+arose from his inexperience; but he may be still deficient from a want
+of knowledge in nature. For it is possible that the man in question
+may stop here, and that the masterpiece of a great hand may please
+him no more than the middling performance of a vulgar artist; and this
+not for want of better or higher relish, but because all men do not
+observe with sufficient accuracy on the human figure to enable them to
+judge properly of an imitation of it.
+
+And that the critical taste does not depend upon a superior principle
+in men, but upon superior knowledge, may appear from several
+instances. The story of the ancient painter and the shoemaker is very
+well known. The shoemaker set the painter right with regard to some
+mistakes he had made in the shoe of one of his figures, and which the
+painter, who had not made such accurate observations on shoes, and was
+content with a general resemblance, had never observed. But this was
+no impeachment to the taste of the painter; it only showed some want
+of knowledge in the art of making shoes. Let us imagine that an
+anatomist had come into the painter's working-room. His piece is in
+general well done, the figure in question in a good attitude, and the
+parts well adjusted to their various movements; yet the anatomist,
+critical in his art, may observe the swell of some muscle not quite
+just in the peculiar action of the figure. Here the anatomist observes
+what the painter had not observed; and he passes by what the shoemaker
+had remarked.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE LETTER TO A NOBLE LORD[55]
+
+
+I was not, like his Grace of Bedford, swaddled, and rocked, and
+dandled into a legislator--_Nitor in adversum_ is the motto for a man
+like me. I possest not one of the qualities, nor cultivated one of the
+arts, that recommend men to the favor and protection of the great. I
+was not made for a minion or a tool. As little did I follow the trade
+of winning the hearts by imposing on the understanding of the people.
+At every step of my progress in life--for in every step was I
+traversed and opposed--and at every turnpike I met, I was obliged to
+shew my passport, and again and again to prove my sole title to the
+honor of being useful to my country by a proof that I was not wholly
+unacquainted with its laws, and the whole system of its interests both
+abroad and at home. Otherwise, no rank, no toleration even for me. I
+had no arts but manly arts. On them I have stood, and, please God, in
+spite of the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Lauderdale, to the last
+gasp will I stand....
+
+I know not how it has happened, but it really seems that, while his
+Grace was meditating his well-considered censure upon me, he fell into
+a sort of sleep. Homer nods, and the Duke of Bedford may dream; and as
+dreams--even his golden dreams--are apt to be ill-pieced and
+incongruously put together, his Grace preserved his idea of reproach
+to me, but took the subject-matter from the crown-grants to his own
+family. This is "the stuff of which his dreams are made." In that way
+of putting things together, his Grace is perfectly in the right. The
+grants to the house of Russell were so enormous as not only to outrage
+economy, but even to stagger credibility. The Duke of Bedford is the
+leviathan among all the creatures of the crown. He tumbles about his
+unwieldy bulk; he plays and frolics in the ocean of the royal bounty.
+Huge as he is, and while "he lies floating many a rood," he is still a
+creature. His ribs, his fins, his whalebone, his blubber, the very
+spiracles through which he spouts a torrent of brine against his
+origin, and covers me all over with the spray--everything of him and
+about him is from the throne. Is it for _him_ to question the
+dispensation of the royal favor?
+
+I really am at a loss to draw any sort of parallel between the public
+merits of his Grace, by which he justifies the grants he holds, and
+these services of mine, on the favorable construction of which I have
+obtained what his Grace so much disapproves. In private life, I have
+not at all the honor of acquaintance with the noble Duke. But I ought
+to presume, and it costs me nothing to do so, that he abundantly
+deserves the esteem and love of all who live with him. But as to
+public service, why, truly, it would not be more ridiculous for me to
+compare myself in rank, in fortune, in splendid descent, in youth,
+strength, or figure, with the Duke of Bedford, than to make a
+parallel between his services and my attempts to be useful to my
+country. It would not be gross adulation, but uncivil irony, to say
+that he has any public merit of his own, to keep alive the idea of the
+services by which his vast landed pensions were obtained. My merits,
+whatever they are, are original and personal; his are derivative. It
+is his ancestor, the original pensioner, that has laid up this
+inexhaustible fund of merit, which makes his Grace so very delicate
+and exceptious about the merit of all other grantees of the crown. Had
+he permitted me to remain in quiet, I should have said: "'Tis his
+estate; that's enough. It is his by law; what have I to do with it or
+its history?" He would naturally have said on his side: "'Tis this
+man's fortune. He is as good now as my ancestor was two hundred and
+fifty years ago. I am a young man with very old pensions: he is an old
+man with very young pensions--that's all."
+
+Why will his Grace, by attacking me, force me reluctantly to compare
+my little merit with that which obtained from the crown those
+prodigies of profuse donation by which he tramples on the mediocrity
+of humble and laborious individuals?... Since the new grantees have
+war made on them by the old, and that the word of the sovereign is not
+to be taken, let us turn our eyes to history, in which great men have
+always a pleasure in contemplating the heroic origin of their house.
+
+The first peer of the name, the first purchaser of the grants, was a
+Mr. Russell, a person of an ancient gentleman's family, raised by
+being a minion of Henry VIII. As there generally is some resemblance
+of character to create these relations, the favorite was in all
+likelihood much such another as his master. The first of those
+immoderate grants was not taken from the ancient demesne of the crown,
+but from the recent confiscation of the ancient nobility of the land.
+The lion having sucked the blood of his prey, threw the offal carcass
+to the jackal in waiting. Having tasted once the food of confiscation,
+the favorites became fierce and ravenous. This worthy favorite's first
+grant was from the lay nobility. The second, infinitely improving on
+the enormity of the first, was from the plunder of the church. In
+truth, his Grace is somewhat excusable for his dislike to a grant like
+mine, not only in its quantity, but in its kind, so different from his
+own.
+
+Mine was from a mild and benevolent sovereign; his, from Henry VIII.
+Mine had not its fund in the murder of any innocent person of
+illustrious rank, or in the pillage of any body of unoffending men;
+his grants were from the aggregate and consolidated funds of judgments
+iniquitously legal, and from possessions voluntarily surrendered by
+the lawful proprietors with the gibbet at their door.
+
+The merit of the grantee whom he derives from was that of being a
+prompt and greedy instrument of a leveling tyrant, who opprest all
+descriptions of his people, but who fell with particular fury on
+everything that was great and noble. Mine has been in endeavoring to
+screen every man, in every class, from oppression, and particularly in
+defending the high and eminent, who in the bad times of confiscating
+princes, confiscating chief-governors, or confiscating demagogs, are
+the most exposed to jealousy, avarice, and envy.
+
+The merit of the original grantee of his Grace's pensions was in
+giving his hand to the work, and partaking the spoil with a prince who
+plundered a part of the national church of his time and country. Mine
+was in defending the whole of the national church of my own time and
+my own country, and the whole of the national churches of all
+countries, from the principles and the examples which lead to
+ecclesiastical pillage, thence to a contempt of all prescriptive
+titles, thence to the pillage of all property, and thence to universal
+desolation.
+
+The merit of the origin of his Grace's fortune was in being a favorite
+and chief adviser to a prince who left no liberty to his native
+country. My endeavor was to obtain liberty for the municipal country
+in which I was born, and for all descriptions and denominations in it.
+Mine was to support, with unrelaxing vigilance, every right, every
+privilege, every franchise, in this my adopted, my dearer, and more
+comprehensive country; and not only to preserve those rights in this
+chief seat of empire, but in every nation, in every land, in every
+climate, language, and religion in the vast domain that still is under
+the protection, and the larger that was once under the protection, of
+the British crown.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON[56]
+
+
+Had it pleased God to continue to me the hopes of succession, I should
+have been, according to my mediocrity, and the mediocrity of the age I
+live in, a sort of founder of a family; I should have left a son, who,
+in all the points in which personal merit can be viewed, in science,
+in erudition, in genius, in taste, in honor, in generosity, in
+humanity, in every liberal sentiment and every liberal accomplishment,
+would not have shewn himself inferior to the Duke of Bedford, or to
+any of those whom he traces in his line. His Grace very soon would
+have wanted all plausibility in his attack upon that provision which
+belonged more to mine than to me. He would soon have supplied every
+deficiency, and symmetrized every disproportion. It would not have
+been for that successor to resort to any stagnant wasting reservoir of
+merit in me, or in any ancestry. He had in himself a salient living
+spring of generous and manly action. Every day he lived, he would have
+repurchased the bounty of the crown, and ten times more, if ten times
+more he had received. He was made a public creature, and had no
+enjoyment whatever but in the performance of some duty. At this
+exigent moment the loss of a finished man is not easily supplied.
+
+But a Disposer, whose power we are little able to resist, and whose
+wisdom it behooves us not at all to dispute, has ordained it in
+another manner, and--whatever my querulous weakness might suggest--a
+far better. The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those
+old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stript
+of all my honors; I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the
+earth! There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the
+divine justice, and in some degree submit to it. But while I humble
+myself before God, I do not know that it is forbidden to repel the
+attacks of unjust and inconsiderate men. The patience of Job is
+proverbial. After some of the convulsive struggles of our irritable
+nature, he submitted himself, and repented in dust and ashes. But even
+so, I do not find him blamed for reprehending, and with a considerable
+degree of verbal asperity, those ill-natured neighbors of his who
+visited his dunghill to read moral, political, and economical lectures
+on his misery. I am alone. I have none to meet my enemies in the gate.
+Indeed, my lord, I greatly deceive myself, if in this hard season I
+would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is called fame and
+honor in the world. This is the appetite but of a few. It is a luxury;
+it is a privilege; it is an indulgence for those who are at their
+ease. But we are all of us made to shun disgrace, as we are made to
+shrink from pain, and poverty, and disease. It is an instinct; and
+under the direction of reason, instinct is always in the right. I live
+in an inverted order. They who ought to have succeeded me are gone
+before me; they who should have been to me as posterity are in the
+place of ancestors. I owe to the dearest relation--which ever must
+subsist in memory--that act of piety which he would have performed to
+me; I owe it to him to shew, that he was not descended, as the Duke of
+Bedford would have it, from an unworthy parent.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE[57]
+
+
+I hear, and I rejoice to hear, that the great lady, the other object
+of the triumph, has borne that day (one is interested that beings made
+for suffering should suffer well) and that she bears all the
+succeeding days, that she bears the imprisonment of her husband, and
+her own captivity, and the exile of her friends, and the insulting
+adulation of addresses, and the whole weight of her accumulated
+wrongs, with a serene patience, in a manner suited to her rank and
+race, and becoming the offspring of a sovereign distinguished for her
+piety and her courage; that like her she has lofty sentiments; that
+she feels with the dignity of a Roman matron; that in the last
+extremity she will save herself from the last disgrace, and that if
+she must fall, she will fall by no ignoble hand.
+
+It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France,
+then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this
+orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw
+her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated
+sphere she just began to move in--glittering like the morning star,
+full of life, and splendor, and joy. Oh! what a revolution! and what a
+heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and
+that fall! Little did I dream when she added titles of veneration to
+those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever
+be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in
+that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such
+disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of
+men of honor and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have
+leapt from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her
+with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters,
+economists, and calculators has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is
+extinguished forever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous
+loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified
+obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in
+servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace
+of life, the cheap defense of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment
+and heroic enterprise is gone! It is gone, that sensibility of
+principle, that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound,
+which inspired courage while it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled
+whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil by
+losing all its grossness.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 54: From "The Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and
+Beautiful."]
+
+[Footnote 55: Written in 1796. The occasion for this celebrated letter
+was an attack on Burke by the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of
+Lauderdale in connection with his pension. The attacks were made from
+their places in the House of Lords.]
+
+[Footnote 56: Burke's son was Richard Burke, who died on August 2,
+1790. He was 32 years of age. The blow shattered Burke's ambition. He
+himself died in 1797. One other son, Christopher, had been horn to
+Burke, but he died in childhood. Burke's domestic life was otherwise
+exceptionally happy. He was noted among his contemporaries for his
+"orderly and amiable domestic habits."]
+
+[Footnote 57: From the "Reflections on the Revolution in France."]
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM COWPER
+
+     Born in 1731, died in 1800; son of a clergyman; educated at
+     Westminster School; admitted to the bar in 1754, but
+     melancholia unfitted him for practise; temporarily confined
+     in an asylum in 1763; afterward lived in private families,
+     being subject to repeated attacks of mental disorder tending
+     to suicide, ending in permanent insanity; published "The
+     Task" in 1785, a translation of Homer in 1791.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF KEEPING ONE'S SELF EMPLOYED[58]
+
+
+I have neither long visits to pay nor to receive, nor ladies to spend
+hours in telling me that which might be told in five minutes; yet
+often find myself obliged to be an economist of time, and to make the
+most of a short opportunity. Let our station be as retired as it may,
+there is no want of playthings and avocations, nor much need to seek
+them, in this world of ours. Business, or what presents itself to us
+under that imposing character, will find us out even in the stillest
+retreat, and plead its importance, however trivial in reality, as a
+just demand upon our attention.
+
+It is wonderful how by means of such real or seeming necessities my
+time is stolen away. I have just time to observe that time is short,
+and by the time I have made the observation time is gone.
+
+I have wondered in former days at the patience of the antediluvian
+world, that they could endure a life almost millenary, and with so
+little variety as seems to have fallen to their share. It is probable
+that they had much fewer employments than we. Their affairs lay in a
+narrower compass; their libraries were indifferently furnished;
+philosophical researches were carried on with much less industry and
+acuteness of penetration, and fiddles perhaps were not even invented.
+How then could seven or eight hundred years of life be supported? I
+have asked this question formerly, and been at a loss to resolve it;
+but I think I can answer it now. I will suppose myself born a thousand
+years before Noah was born or thought of. I rise with the sun; I
+worship; I prepare my breakfast; I swallow a bucket of goat's milk and
+a dozen good sizable cakes. I fasten a new string to my bow, and my
+youngest boy, a lad of about thirty years of age, having played with
+my arrows till he has stript off all the feathers, I find myself
+obliged to repair them. The morning is thus spent in preparing for the
+chase, and it is become necessary that I should dine. I dig up my
+roots; I wash them; boil them; I find them not done enough, I boil
+them again; my wife is angry; we dispute; we settle the point; but in
+the mean time the fire goes out, and must be kindled again. All this
+is very amusing.
+
+I hunt; I bring home the prey; with the skin of it I mend an old coat,
+or I make a new one. By this time the day is far spent; I feel myself
+fatigued, and retire to rest. Thus, what with tilling the ground and
+eating the fruit of it, hunting, and walking, and running, and
+mending old clothes, and sleeping and rising again, I can suppose an
+inhabitant of the primeval world so much occupied as to sigh over the
+shortness of life, and to find, at the end of many centuries, that
+they had all slipt through his fingers and were passing away like a
+shadow. What wonder then that I, who live in a day of so much greater
+refinement, when there is so much more to be wanted and wished, and to
+be enjoyed, should feel myself now and then pinched in point of
+opportunity, and at some loss for leisure to fill four sides of a
+sheet like this?
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+ON JOHNSON'S TREATMENT OF MILTON[59]
+
+
+I have been well entertained with Johnson's biography, for which I
+thank you: with one exception, and that a swinging one, I think he has
+acquitted himself with his usual good sense and sufficiency. His
+treatment of Milton is unmerciful to the last degree. A pensioner is
+not likely to spare a republican, and the Doctor, in order, I suppose,
+to convince his royal patron of the sincerity of his monarchical
+principles, has belabored that great poet's character with the most
+industrious cruelty. As a man, he has hardly left him the shadow of
+one good quality. Churlishness in his private life, and a rancorous
+hatred of everything royal in his public, are the two colors with
+which he has smeared all the canvas. If he had any virtues, they are
+not to be found in the Doctor's picture of him, and it is well for
+Milton that some sourness in his temper is the only vice with which
+his memory has been charged; it is evident enough that if his
+biographer could have discovered more, he would not have spared him.
+
+As a poet, he has treated him with severity enough, and has plucked
+one or two of the most beautiful feathers out of his Muse's wing, and
+trampled them under his great foot. He has passed sentence of
+condemnation upon Lycidas, and has taken occasion, from that charming
+poem, to expose and ridicule (what is indeed ridiculous enough) the
+childish prattlement of pastoral compositions, as if Lycidas was the
+prototype and pattern of them all. The liveliness of the descriptions,
+the sweetness of the numbers, the classical spirit of antiquity that
+prevails in it, go for nothing. I am convinced, by the way, that he
+has no ear for poetical numbers, or that it was stopt by prejudice
+against the harmony of Milton's. Was there ever anything so delightful
+as the music of the Paradise Lost? It is like that of a fine organ;
+has the fullest and the deepest tones of majesty with all the softness
+and elegance of the Dorian flute: variety without end, and never
+equaled, unless perhaps by Virgil. Yet the Doctor has little or
+nothing to say upon this copious theme, but talks something about the
+unfitness of the English language for blank verse, and how apt it is,
+in the mouths of some readers, to degenerate into declamation. Oh! I
+could thrash his old jacket till I made his pension jingle in his
+pockets.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS BOOKS[60]
+
+
+In the press, and speedily will be published, in one volume octavo,
+price three shillings, Poems,[61] by William Cowper, of the Inner
+Temple, Esq. You may suppose, by the size of the publication, that the
+greatest part of them have never been long kept secret, because you
+yourself have never seen them; but the truth is, that they are most of
+them, except what you have in your possession, the produce of the last
+winter. Two-thirds of the compilation will be occupied by four pieces,
+the first of which sprung up in the month of December, and the last of
+them in the month of March. They contain, I suppose, in all about two
+thousand and five hundred lines; are known, or are to be known in due
+time, by the names of Table-Talk, The Progress of Error, Truth,
+Expostulation. Mr. Newton writes a preface, and Johnson is the
+publisher. The principal, I may say the only reason why I never
+mentioned to you, till now, an affair which I am just going to make
+known to all the world (if that Mr. All-the-world should think it
+worth his knowing) has been this--that, till within these few days, I
+had not the honor to know it myself. This may seem strange, but it is
+true; for, not knowing where to find underwriters who would choose to
+insure them, and not finding it convenient to a purse like mine to run
+any hazard, even upon the credit of my own ingenuity, I was very much
+in doubt for some weeks whether any bookseller would be willing to
+subject himself to an ambiguity that might prove very expensive in
+case of a bad market. But Johnson has heroically set all peradventures
+at defiance, and takes the whole charge upon himself. So out I come. I
+shall be glad of my Translations from Vincent Bourne in your next
+frank. My muse will lay herself at your feet immediately on her first
+public appearance....
+
+If[62] a writer's friends have need of patience, how much more the
+writer! Your desire to see my muse in public, and mine to gratify you,
+must both suffer the mortification of delay. I expected that my
+trumpeter would have informed the world by this time of all that is
+needful for them to know upon such an occasion; and that an
+advertising blast, blown through every newspaper, would have said,
+"The poet is coming." But man, especially man that writes verse, is
+born to disappointments, as surely as printers and booksellers are
+born to be the most dilatory and tedious of all creatures. The plain
+English of this magnificent preamble is, that the season of
+publication is just elapsed, that the town is going into the country
+every day, and that my book can not appear till they return--that is
+to say, not till next winter. This misfortune, however, comes not
+without its attendant advantage: I shall now have, what I should not
+otherwise have had, an opportunity to correct the press myself; no
+small advantage upon any occasion, but especially important where
+poetry is concerned! A single erratum may knock out the brains of a
+whole passage, and that perhaps which, of all others, the unfortunate
+poet is the most proud of. Add to this, that now and then there is to
+be found in a printing-house a presumptuous intermeddler, who will
+fancy himself a poet too, and what is still worse, a better than he
+that employs him. The consequence is, that with cobbling, and
+tinkering, and patching on here and there a shred of his own, he makes
+such a difference between the original and the copy, that an author
+can not know his own work again. Now, as I choose to be responsible
+for nobody's dulness but my own, I am a little comforted when I
+reflect that it will be in my power to prevent all such impertinence;
+and yet not without your assistance. It will be quite necessary that
+the correspondence between me and Johnson should be carried on without
+the expense of postage, because proof-sheets would make double or
+treble letters, which expense, as in every instance it must occur
+twice, first when the packet is sent, and again when it is returned,
+would be rather inconvenient to me, who, you perceive, am forced to
+live by my wits, and to him, who hopes to get a little matter no doubt
+by the same means. Half a dozen franks therefore to me, and totidem
+to him, will be singularly acceptable, if you can, without feeling it
+in any respect a trouble, procure them for me--Johnson, Bookseller,
+St. Paul's Churchyard....
+
+The writing of so long a poem[63] is a serious business; and the
+author must know little of his own heart who does not in some degree
+suspect himself of partiality to his own production; and who is he
+that would not be mortified by the discovery that he had written five
+thousand lines in vain? The poem, however, which you have in hand will
+not of itself make a volume so large as the last, or as a bookseller
+would wish. I say this, because when I had sent Johnson five thousand
+verses, he applied for a thousand more. Two years since I began a
+piece which grew to the length of two hundred, and there stopt. I have
+lately resumed it, and I believe, shall finish it. But the subject is
+fruitful and will not be comprized in a smaller compass than seven or
+eight hundred verses. It turns on the question whether an education at
+school or at home be preferable, and I shall give the preference to
+the latter. I mean that it shall pursue the track of the former--that
+is to say, it shall visit Stock in its way to publication. My design
+also is to inscribe it to you. But you must see it first; and if,
+after having seen it, you should have any objection, tho it should be
+no bigger than the tittle of an i, I will deny myself that pleasure,
+and find no fault with your refusal.
+
+I have not been without thoughts of adding
+
+"John Gilpin" at the tail of all. He has made a good deal of noise in
+the world, and perhaps it may not be amiss to show, that, tho I write
+generally with a serious intention, I know how to be occasionally
+merry. The critical reviewers charged me with an attempt at humor.
+John having been more celebrated upon the score of humor than most
+pieces that have appeared in modern days, may serve to exonerate me
+from the imputation; but in this article I am entirely under your
+judgment, and mean to be set down by it. All these together will make
+an octavo like the last. I should have told you that the piece which
+now employs me is rime. I do not intend to write any more blank. It is
+more difficult than rime, and not so amusing in the composition. If,
+when you make the offer of my book to Johnson, he should stroke his
+chin, and look up to the ceiling and cry "Humph!"--anticipate him, I
+beseech you, at once, by saying--"that you know I should be sorry that
+he should undertake for me to his own disadvantage, or that my volume
+should be in any degree prest upon him. I make him the offer merely
+because I think he would have reason to complain of me if I did not."
+But that punctilio once satisfied, it is a matter of indifference to
+me what publisher sends me forth.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 58: Letter to the Rev. John Newton, dated Olney, November
+30, 1783.]
+
+[Footnote 59: Letter to the Rev. William Unwin, dated "October 31,
+1779."]
+
+[Footnote 60: Letter to the Rev. William Unwin, dated "Olney, May 1,
+1781."]
+
+[Footnote 61: His first volume of verse.]
+
+[Footnote 62: This paragraph is from another letter to Unwin, written
+three weeks later--May 23, 1781.]
+
+[Footnote 63: This letter, addrest to Unwin, and dated "October 30,
+1784," refers to Cowper's poem "The Task."]
+
+
+
+
+EDWARD GIBBON
+
+     Born in 1737, died in 1794; educated at Oxford, but was not
+     graduated; became a Catholic, but soon renounced that faith;
+     sent by his father to Lausanne, Switzerland, for instruction
+     by a Calvinist minister in 1753; there met and fell in love
+     with, but did not marry, Susanne Curchod; served in the
+     militia, becoming a colonel in 1759-70; traveled in France
+     and Italy in 1763-65; elected to Parliament in 1764; settled
+     permanently in Lausanne in 1783; published the first volume
+     of his "Decline and Fall" in 1776, and the last in 1778;
+     wrote also "Memoirs of My Life and Writings."
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE ROMANCE OF HIS YOUTH[64]
+
+
+I hesitate, from the apprehension of ridicule, when I approach the
+delicate subject of my early love. By this word I do not mean the
+polite attention, the gallantry, without hope or design, which has
+originated in the spirit of chivalry and is interwoven with the
+texture of French manners. I understand by this passion the union of
+desire, friendship and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single
+female, which prefers her to the rest of her sex, and which seeks her
+possession as the supreme or the sole happiness of our being. I need
+not blush at recollecting the object of my choice; and tho 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 Susan Curchod were
+embellished by the virtues and talents of the mind. Her fortune was
+humble, but her family was respectable. Her mother, a native of
+France, had preferred her religion to her country. The profession of
+her father did not extinguish the moderation and philosophy of his
+temper, and he lived content, with a small salary and laborious duty,
+in the obscure lot of minister of Crassy, in the mountains that
+separate the Pays de Vaud from the county of Burgundy. In the solitude
+of a sequestered village he bestowed a liberal and even learned
+education on his only daughter. She surpassed his hopes by her
+proficiency in the sciences and languages; and in her short visits to
+some relations at Lausanne, the wit, the beauty and erudition of
+Mademoiselle Curchod were the theme of universal applause.
+
+The report of such a prodigy awakened my curiosity; I saw and loved. I
+found her learned without pedantry, lively in conversation, pure in
+sentiment, and elegant in manners; and the first sudden emotion was
+fortified by the habits and knowledge of a more familiar acquaintance.
+She permitted me to make her two or three visits at her father's
+house. I passed some happy days there, in the mountains of Burgundy,
+and her parents honorably encouraged the connection. In a calm
+retirement the gay vanity of youth no longer fluttered in her bosom;
+she listened to the voice of truth and passion; and I might presume to
+hope that I had made some impression on a virtuous heart. At Crassy
+and Lausanne I indulged my dream of felicity: but on my return to
+England, I soon discovered that my father would not hear of this
+strange alliance, and that without his consent I was myself destitute
+and helpless. After a painful struggle I yielded to my fate: 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. My cure was accelerated by a
+faithful report of the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the lady
+herself; and my love subsided in friendship and esteem.
+
+The minister of Crassy soon afterward died; his stipend died with him;
+his daughter retired to Geneva, where, by teaching young ladies, she
+earned a hard subsistence for herself and her mother; but in her
+lowest distress she maintained a spotless reputation, and a dignified
+behavior. A rich banker of Paris, a citizen of Geneva, had the good
+fortune and good sense to discover and possess this inestimable
+treasure; and in the capital of taste and luxury she resisted the
+temptations of wealth, as she had sustained the hardships of
+indigence. The genius of her husband has exalted him to the most
+conspicuous station in Europe. In every change of prosperity and
+disgrace he has reclined on the bosom of a faithful friend; and
+Mademoiselle Curchod is now the wife of M. Necker,[65] the minister,
+and perhaps the legislator, of the French monarchy.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE INCEPTION AND COMPLETION OF HIS "DECLINE AND FALL"[66]
+
+
+It was at Rome, on the 15th of October, 1764, as I sat musing amidst
+the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted 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 of the empire:
+and, tho my reading and reflections began to point toward that object,
+some years elapsed, and several avocations intervened, before I was
+seriously engaged in the execution of that laborious work....
+
+I have presumed to mark the moment of conception: I shall now
+commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. It was on the day, or
+rather night, of the 27th of June, 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 berceau, or 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 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 old and agreeable companion, and that
+whatsoever might be the future date of my history, the life of the
+historian must be short and precarious.
+
+I will add two facts which have seldom occurred in the composition of
+six, or at least of five, quartos. 1. My first rough manuscript,
+without any intermediate copy, has been sent to the press. 2. Not a
+sheet has been seen by any human eyes excepting those of the author
+and the printer: the faults and the merits are exclusively my own.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE FALL OF ZENOBIA[67]
+
+(271 A.D.)
+
+
+Aurelian had no sooner secured the person and provinces of Tetricus,
+than he turned his arms against Zenobia, the celebrated queen of
+Palmyra[68] and the East. Modern Europe has produced several
+illustrious women who have sustained with glory the weight of empire;
+nor is our own age destitute of such distinguished characters.
+
+But if we except the doubtful achievements of Semiramis, Zenobia is
+perhaps the only female whose superior genius broke through the
+servile indolence imposed on her sex by the climate and manners of
+Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of Egypt,
+equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that
+princess in chastity and valor.
+
+Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her
+sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in speaking of a lady these
+trifles become important). Her teeth were of a pearly whiteness, and
+her large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire, tempered by the most
+attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly
+understanding was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not
+ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possest in equal perfection the
+Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for
+her own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared
+the beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of the sublime
+Longinus.
+
+This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who, from a
+private station, raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon
+became the friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war,
+Odenathus passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting; he
+pursued with ardor the wild beasts of the desert--lions, panthers, and
+bears; and the ardor of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not
+inferior to his own. She had inured her constitution to fatigue,
+disdained the use of a covered carriage, generally appeared on
+horseback in a military habit, and sometimes marched several miles on
+foot at the head of the troops. The success of Odenathus was in a
+great measure ascribed to her incomparable prudence and fortitude.
+Their splendid victories over the Great King, whom they twice pursued
+as far as the gates of Ctesiphon,[69] laid the foundations of their
+united fame and power. The armies which they commanded, and the
+provinces which they had saved, acknowledged not any other sovereigns
+than their invincible chiefs. The Senate and people of Rome revered a
+stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, and even the
+insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his legitimate
+colleague....
+
+When Aurelian passed over into Asia against an adversary whose sex
+alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored
+obedience to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arms and
+intrigues of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he
+accepted the submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana, after
+an obstinate siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. The generous
+tho fierce temper of Aurelian abandoned the traitor to the rage of the
+soldiers: a superstitious reverence induced him to treat with lenity
+the countrymen of Apollonius the philosopher. Antioch was deserted on
+his approach, till the Emperor, by his salutary edicts, recalled the
+fugitives, and granted a general pardon to all who from necessity
+rather than choice had been engaged in the service of the Palmyrenian
+Queen. The unexpected mildness of such a conduct reconciled the minds
+of the Syrians, and as far as the gates of Emesa the wishes of the
+people seconded the terror of his arms.
+
+Zenobia would have ill deserved her reputation, had she indolently
+permitted the Emperor of the West to approach within a hundred miles
+of her capital. The fate of the East was decided in two great battles,
+so similar in almost every circumstance that we can scarcely
+distinguish them from each other, except by observing that the first
+was fought near Antioch and the second near Emesa. In both the Queen
+of Palmyra animated the armies by her presence, and devolved the
+execution of her orders on Zabdas, who had already signalized his
+military talents by the conquest of Egypt. The numerous forces of
+Zenobia consisted for the most part of light archers, and of heavy
+cavalry clothed in complete steel. The Moorish and Illyrian horse of
+Aurelian were unable to sustain the ponderous charge of their
+antagonists. They fled in real or affected disorder, engaged the
+Palmyrenians in a laborious pursuit, harassed them by a desultory
+combat, and at length discomfited this impenetrable but unwieldy body
+of cavalry. The light infantry, in the mean time, when they had
+exhausted their quivers, remaining without protection against a closer
+onset, exposed their naked sides to the swords of the legions.
+Aurelian had chosen these veteran troops, who were usually stationed
+on the Upper Danube, and whose valor had been severely tried in the
+Alemannic war. After the defeat of Emesa, Zenobia found it impossible
+to collect a third army. As far as the frontier of Egypt, the nations
+subject to her empire had joined the standard of the conqueror, who
+detached Probus, the bravest of his generals, to possess himself of
+the Egyptian provinces. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of
+Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every
+preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared, with the
+intrepidity of a heroine, that the last moment of her reign and of her
+life should be the same.
+
+Amid the barren deserts of Arabia, a few cultivated spots rise like
+islands out of the sandy ocean. Even the name of Tadmor, or Palmyra,
+by its signification in the Syriac as well as in the Latin language,
+denoted the multitude of palm-trees which afforded shade and verdure
+to that temperate region. The air was pure, and the soil, watered by
+some invaluable springs, was capable of producing fruits as well as
+corn. A place possest of such singular advantages, and situated at a
+convenient distance between the Gulf of Persia and the Mediterranean,
+was soon frequented by the caravans which conveyed to the nations of
+Europe a considerable part of the rich commodities of India. Palmyra
+insensibly increased into an opulent and independent city, and
+connecting the Roman and the Parthian monarchies by the mutual
+benefits of commerce was suffered to observe a humble neutrality, till
+at length after the victories of Trajan the little republic sunk into
+the bosom of Rome, and flourished more than one hundred and fifty
+years in the subordinate tho honorable rank of a colony. It was during
+that peaceful period, if we may judge from a few remaining
+inscriptions, that the wealthy Palmyrenians constructed those
+temples, palaces, and porticoes of Grecian architecture whose ruins,
+scattered over an extent of several miles, have deserved the curiosity
+of our travelers. The elevation of Odenathus and Zenobia appeared to
+reflect new splendor on their country, and Palmyra for a while stood
+forth the rival of Rome: but the competition was fatal, and ages of
+prosperity were sacrificed to a moment of glory....
+
+The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that in a very short
+time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the desert, and by
+the reasonable expectation that the kings of the East, and
+particularly the Persian monarch, would arm in the defense of their
+most natural ally. But fortune and the perseverance of Aurelian
+overcame every obstacle. The death of Sapor, which happened about this
+time, distracted the counsels of Persia, and the inconsiderable
+succors that attempted to relieve Palmyra were easily intercepted
+either by the arms or the liberality of the Emperor. From every part
+of Syria a regular succession of convoys safely arrived in the camp,
+which was increased by the return of Probus with his victorious troops
+from the conquest of Egypt. It was then that Zenobia resolved to fly.
+She mounted the fleetest of her dromedaries, and had already reached
+the banks of the Euphrates, about sixty miles from Palmyra, when she
+was overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian's light horse, seized, and
+brought back a captive to the feet of the Emperor. Her capital soon
+afterward surrendered, and was treated with unexpected lenity.
+
+When the Syrian Queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian he
+sternly asked her, How she had presumed to rise in arms against the
+emperors of Rome! The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of
+respect and firmness: "Because I disdained to consider as Roman
+emperors an Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my
+conqueror and my sovereign." But as female fortitude is commonly
+artificial, so it is seldom steady or consistent. The courage of
+Zenobia deserted her in the hour of trial; she trembled at the angry
+clamors of the soldiers, who called aloud for her immediate execution,
+forgot the generous despair of Cleopatra which she had proposed as her
+model, and ignominiously purchased life by the sacrifice of her fame
+and her friends. It was to their counsels, which governed the weakness
+of her sex, that she imputed the guilt of her obstinate resistance; it
+was on their heads that she directed the vengeance of the cruel
+Aurelian. The fame of Longinus,[70] who was included among the
+numerous and perhaps innocent victims of her fear, will survive that
+of the Queen who betrayed or the tyrant who condemned him. Genius and
+learning were incapable of moving a fierce unlettered soldier, but
+they had served to elevate and harmonize the soul of Longinus. Without
+uttering a complaint he calmly followed the executioner, pitying his
+unhappy mistress, and bestowing comfort on his afflicted friends....
+
+But, however in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals Aurelian might
+indulge his pride, he behaved toward them with a generous clemency
+which was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. Princes who
+without success had defended their throne or freedom, were frequently
+strangled in prison as soon as the triumphal pomp ascended the
+Capitol. These usurpers, whom their defeat had convicted of the crime
+of treason, were permitted to spend their lives in affluence and
+honorable repose. The Emperor presented Zenobia with an elegant villa
+at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles from the capital; the Syrian
+queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, her daughters married into
+noble families and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+ALARIC'S ENTRY INTO ROME[71]
+
+(410 A.D.)
+
+
+At the hour of midnight the Salarian gate was silently opened, and the
+inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound of the Gothic
+trumpet. Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of
+Rome, the imperial city which had subdued and civilized so
+considerable a part of mankind was delivered to the licentious fury of
+the tribes of Germany and Scythia.
+
+The proclamation of Alaric, when he forced his entrance into a
+vanquished city, discovered, however, some regard for the laws of
+humanity and religion. He encouraged his troops boldly to seize the
+rewards of valor, and to enrich themselves with the spoils of a
+wealthy and effeminate people; but he exhorted them at the same time
+to spare the lives of the unresisting citizens, and to respect the
+churches of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul as holy and inviolable
+sanctuaries. Amidst the horrors of a nocturnal tumult, several of the
+Christian Goths displayed the fervor of a recent conversion; and some
+instances of their uncommon piety and moderation are related, and
+perhaps adorned, by the zeal of ecclesiastical writers.
+
+While the Barbarians roamed through the city in quest of prey, the
+humble dwelling of an aged virgin who had devoted her life to the
+service of the altar was forced open by one of the powerful Goths. He
+immediately demanded, tho in civil language, all the gold and silver
+in her possession; and was astonished at the readiness with which she
+conducted him to a splendid hoard of massy plate of the richest
+materials and the most curious workmanship. The Barbarian viewed with
+wonder and delight this valuable acquisition, till he was interrupted
+by a serious admonition addrest to him in the following words:
+"These," said she, "are the consecrated vessels belonging to St.
+Peter; if you presume to touch them, the sacrilegious deed will remain
+on your conscience. For my part, I dare not keep what I am unable to
+defend." The Gothic captain, struck with reverential awe, dispatched a
+messenger to inform the King of the treasure which he had discovered,
+and received a peremptory order from Alaric that all the consecrated
+plate and ornaments should be transported, without damage or delay, to
+the church of the Apostle.
+
+From the extremity, perhaps, of the Quirinal hill, to the distant
+quarter of the Vatican, a numerous detachment of Goths, marching in
+order of battle through the principal streets, protected with
+glittering arms the long train of their devout companions, who bore
+aloft on their heads the sacred vessels of gold and silver; and the
+martial shouts of the Barbarians were mingled with the sound of
+religious psalmody. From all the adjacent houses a crowd of Christians
+hastened to join this edifying procession; and a multitude of
+fugitives, without distinction of age, or rank, or even of sect, had
+the good fortune to escape to the secure and hospitable sanctuary of
+the Vatican. The learned work "Concerning the City of God" was
+professedly composed by St. Augustine to justify the ways of
+Providence in the destruction of the Roman greatness. He celebrates
+with peculiar satisfaction this memorable triumph of Christ, and
+insults his adversaries by challenging them to produce some similar
+example of a town taken by storm, in which the fabulous gods of
+antiquity had been able to protect either themselves or their deluded
+votaries.
+
+In the sack of Rome, some rare and extraordinary examples of Barbarian
+virtue have been deservedly applauded. But the holy precincts of the
+Vatican and the Apostolic churches could receive a very small
+proportion of the Roman people; many thousand warriors, more
+especially of the Huns who served under the standard of Alaric, were
+strangers to the name, or at least to the faith of Christ; and we may
+suspect without any breach of charity or candor that in the hour of
+savage license, when every passion was inflamed and every restraint
+was removed, the precepts of the gospel seldom influenced the behavior
+of the Gothic Christians. The writers the best disposed to exaggerate
+their clemency have freely confest that a cruel slaughter was made of
+the Romans, and that the streets of the city were filled with dead
+bodies, which remained without burial during the general
+consternation. The despair of the citizens was sometimes converted
+into fury; and whenever the Barbarians were provoked by opposition,
+they extended the promiscuous massacre to the feeble, the innocent and
+the helpless. The private revenge of forty thousand slaves was
+exercised without pity or remorse; and the ignominious lashes which
+they had formerly received were washed away in the blood of the guilty
+or obnoxious families. The matrons and virgins of Rome were exposed to
+injuries more dreadful, in the apprehension of chastity, than death
+itself....
+
+The want of youth, or beauty, or chastity protected the greatest part
+of the Roman women from the danger of a rape. But avarice is an
+insatiate and universal passion, since the enjoyment of almost every
+object that can afford pleasure to the different tastes and tempers of
+mankind may be procured by the possession of wealth. In the pillage of
+Rome, a just preference was given to gold and jewels, which contain
+the greatest value in the smallest compass and weight; but after these
+portable riches had been removed by the more diligent robbers, the
+palaces of Rome were rudely stript of their splendid and costly
+furniture. The sideboards of massy plate, and the variegated wardrobes
+of silk and purple, were irregularly piled in the wagons that always
+followed the march of a Gothic army. The most exquisite works of art
+were roughly handled or wantonly destroyed; many a statue was melted
+for the sake of the precious materials; and many a vase, in the
+division of the spoil, was shivered into fragments by the stroke of a
+battle-ax. The acquisition of riches served only to stimulate the
+avarice of the rapacious Barbarians, who proceeded by threats, by
+blows, and by tortures to force from their prisoners the confession of
+hidden treasure. Visible splendor and expense were alleged as the
+proof of a plentiful fortune; the appearance of poverty was imputed to
+a parsimonious disposition; and the obstinacy of some misers, who
+endured the most cruel torments before they would discover the secret
+object of their affection, was fatal to many unhappy wretches, who
+expired under the lash for refusing to reveal their imaginary
+treasures.
+
+The edifices of Rome, tho the damage has been much exaggerated,
+received some injury from the violence of the Goths. At their entrance
+through the Salarian gate, they fired the adjacent houses to guide
+their march and to distract the attention of the citizens; the flames,
+which encountered no obstacle in the disorder of the night, consumed
+many private and public buildings; and the ruins of the palace of
+Sallust remained, in the age of Justinian, a stately monument of the
+Gothic conflagration. Yet a contemporary historian has observed that
+fire could scarcely consume the enormous beams of solid brass, and
+that the strength of man was insufficient to subvert the foundations
+of ancient structures. Some truth may possibly be concealed in his
+devout assertion that the wrath of Heaven supplied the imperfections
+of hostile rage, and that the proud Forum of Rome, decorated with the
+statues of so many gods and heroes, was leveled in the dust by the
+stroke of lightning.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE DEATH OF HOSEIN[72]
+
+
+Hosein served with honor against the Christians in the siege of
+Constantinople. The primogeniture of the line of Hashem, and the holy
+character of the grandson of the apostle, had centered in his person,
+and he was at liberty to prosecute his claim against Yezid, the tyrant
+of Damascus, whose vices he despised, and whose title he had never
+deigned to acknowledge. A list was secretly transmitted from Cufa to
+Medina, of one hundred and forty thousand Moslems, who profest their
+attachment to his cause, and who were eager to draw their swords so
+soon as he should appear on the banks of the Euphrates.
+
+Against the advice of his wisest friends, he resolved to trust his
+person and family in the hands of a perfidious people. He traversed
+the desert of Arabia with a timorous retinue of women and children;
+but as he approached the confines of Irak,[73] he was alarmed by the
+solitary or hostile face of the country, and suspected either the
+defection or ruin of his party. His fears were just; Obeidollah, the
+governor of Cufa, had extinguished the first sparks of an
+insurrection; and Hosein, in the plain of Kerbela, was encompassed by
+a body of five thousand horse, who intercepted his communication with
+the city and the river. He might still have escaped to a fortress in
+the desert, that had defied the power of Cæsar[74] and Chosroes,[75]
+and confided in the fidelity of the tribe of Tai, which would have
+armed ten thousand warriors in his defense. In a conference with the
+chief of the enemy, he proposed the option of three honorable
+conditions; that he should be allowed to return to Medina, or be
+stationed in a frontier garrison against the Turks, or safely
+conducted to the presence of Yezid.[76] But the commands of the
+caliph, or his lieutenant, were stern and absolute; and Hosein was
+informed that he must either submit as a captive and a criminal to the
+commander of the faithful, or expect the consequences of his
+rebellion. "Do you think," replied he, "to terrify me with death?" And
+during the short respite of a night, he prepared with calm and solemn
+resignation to encounter his fate. He checked the lamentations of his
+sister Fatima, who deplored the impending ruin of his house. "Our
+trust," said Hosein, "is in God alone. All things, both in heaven and
+earth, must perish and return to their Creator. My brother, my father,
+my mother, were better than me, and every Mussulman has an example in
+the prophet." He prest his friends to consult their safety by a timely
+flight; they unanimously refused to desert or survive their beloved
+master; and their courage was fortified by a fervent prayer and the
+assurance of paradise.
+
+On the morning of the fatal day, he mounted on horseback, with his
+sword in one hand and Koran in the other: his generous band of martyrs
+consisted only of thirty-two horse and forty foot; but their flanks
+and rear were secured by the tentropes, and by a deep trench which
+they had filled with lighted fagots, according to the practise of the
+Arabs. The enemy advanced with reluctance; and one of their chiefs
+deserted, with thirty followers, to claim the partnership of
+inevitable death. In every close onset, or single combat, the despair
+of the Fatimites was invincible; but the surrounding multitudes galled
+them from a distance with a cloud of arrows, and the horses and men
+were successively slain: a truce was allowed on both sides for the
+hour of prayer; and the battle at length expired by the death of the
+last of the companions of Hosein. Alone, weary, and wounded, he seated
+himself at the door of his tent. As he tasted a drop of water, he was
+pierced in the mouth with a dart; and his son and nephew, two
+beautiful youths were killed in his arms. He lifted his hands to
+heaven, they were full of blood, and he uttered a funeral prayer for
+the living and the dead.
+
+In a transport of despair his sister issued from the tent, and adjured
+the general of the Cufians that he would not suffer Hosein to be
+murdered before his eyes; a tear trickled down his venerable beard;
+and the boldest of his soldiers fell back on every side as the dying
+hero threw himself among them. The remorseless Shamer, a name detested
+by the faithful, reproached their cowardice; and the grandson of
+Mohammed was slain with three and thirty strokes of lances and swords.
+After they had trampled on his body, they carried his head to the
+castle of Cufa, and the inhuman Obeidollah struck him on the mouth
+with a cane. "Alas!" exclaimed an aged Mussulman, "on these lips have
+I seen the lips of the apostle of God!" In a distant age and climate
+the tragic scene of the death of Hosein will awaken the sympathy of
+the coldest reader. On the annual festival of his martyrdom, in the
+devout pilgrimage to his sepulcher, his Persian votaries abandon their
+souls to the religious frenzy of sorrow and indignation.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE CAUSES OF THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CITY OF ROME[77]
+
+
+In the last days of Pope Eugenius the Fourth, two of his servants, the
+learned Poggius[78] and a friend, ascended the Capitoline Hill,
+reposed themselves among the ruins of columns and temples, and viewed
+from that commanding spot the wide and various prospect of desolation.
+The place and the object gave ample scope for moralizing on the
+vicissitudes of fortune, which spares neither man nor the proudest of
+his works, which buries empires and cities in a common grave; and it
+was agreed that in proportion to her former greatness the fall of Rome
+was the more awful and deplorable:
+
+"Her primeval state, such as she might appear in a remote age, when
+Evander entertained the stranger of Troy, has been delineated by the
+fancy of Virgil. This Tarpeian Rock was then a savage and solitary
+thicket; in the time of the poet it was crowned with the golden roofs
+of a temple; the temple is overthrown, the gold has been pillaged, the
+wheel of fortune has accomplished her revolution, and the sacred
+ground is again disfigured with thorns and brambles. The hill of the
+Capitol, on which we sit, was formerly the head of the Roman Empire,
+the citadel of the earth, the terror of kings; illustrated by the
+footsteps of so many triumphs, enriched with the spoils and tributes
+of so many nations. This spectacle of the world, how is it fallen! how
+changed! how defaced! The path of victory is obliterated by vines, and
+the benches of the senators are concealed by a dunghill. Cast your
+eyes on the Palatine Hill, and seek among the shapeless and enormous
+fragments the marble theater, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the
+porticoes of Nero's palace; survey the other hills of the city,--the
+vacant space is interrupted only by ruins and gardens. The Forum of
+the Roman people, where they assembled to enact their laws and elect
+their magistrates, is now inclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs,
+or thrown open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The public
+and private edifices that were founded for eternity lie prostrate,
+naked, and broken, like the limbs of a mighty giant; and the ruin is
+the more visible, from the stupendous relics that have survived the
+injuries of time and fortune."...
+
+After a diligent inquiry, I can discern four principal causes of the
+ruin of Rome, which continued to operate in a period of more than a
+thousand years. I. The injuries of time and nature. II. The hostile
+attacks of the Barbarians and Christians. III. The use and abuse of
+the materials. And IV. The domestic quarrels of the Romans.
+
+I. The art of man is able to construct monuments far more permanent
+than the narrow span of his own existence; yet these monuments, like
+himself, are perishable and frail; and in the boundless annals of time
+his life and his labors must equally be measured as a fleeting moment.
+Of a simple and solid edifice it is not easy, however, to circumscribe
+the duration. As the wonder of ancient days, the Pyramids attracted
+the curiosity of the ancients: a hundred generations, the leaves of
+autumn, have dropt into the grave; and after the fall of the Pharaohs
+and Ptolemies, the Cæsars and caliphs, the same Pyramids stand erect
+and unshaken above the floods of the Nile. A complex figure of various
+and minute parts is more accessible to injury and decay; and the
+silent lapse of time is often accelerated by hurricanes and
+earthquakes, by fires and inundations. The air and earth have
+doubtless been shaken, and the lofty turrets of Rome have tottered
+from their foundations, but the seven hills do not appear to be placed
+on the great cavities of the globe; nor has the city in any age been
+exposed to the convulsions of nature which in the climate of Antioch,
+Lisbon, or Lima, have crumbled in a few moments the works of ages in
+the dust. Fire is the most powerful agent of life and death....
+
+From her situation, Rome is exposed to the danger of frequent
+inundations. Without excepting the Tiber, the rivers that descend from
+either side of the Apennine have a short and irregular course; a
+shallow stream in the summer heats; an impetuous torrent when it is
+swelled in the spring or winter by the fall of rain and the melting of
+the snows. When the current is repelled from the sea by adverse
+winds, when the ordinary bed is inadequate to the weight of waters,
+they rise above the banks and overspread without limits or control the
+plains and cities of the adjacent country. Soon after the triumph of
+the first Punic war, the Tiber was increased by unusual rains; and the
+inundation, surpassing all former measure of time and place, destroyed
+all the buildings that were situate below the hills of Rome. According
+to the variety of ground, the same mischief was produced by different
+means; and the edifices were either swept away by the sudden impulse,
+or dissolved and undermined by the long continuance of the flood.
+Under the reign of Augustus the same calamity was renewed: the lawless
+river overturned the palaces and temples on its banks; and after the
+labors of the Emperor in cleansing and widening the bed that was
+incumbered with ruins, the vigilance of his successors was exercised
+by similar dangers and designs. The project of diverting into new
+channels the Tiber itself, or some of the dependent streams, was long
+opposed by superstition and local interests; nor did the use
+compensate the toil and costs of the tardy and imperfect execution.
+The servitude of rivers is the noblest and most important victory
+which man has obtained over the licentiousness of nature; and if such
+were the ravages of the Tiber under a firm and active government, what
+could oppose, or who can enumerate, the injuries of the city after the
+fall of the Western Empire? A remedy was at length produced by the
+evil itself: the accumulation of rubbish and the earth that has been
+washed down from the hills is supposed to have elevated the plain of
+Rome fourteen or fifteen feet perhaps above the ancient level: and the
+modern city is less accessible to the attacks of the river.
+
+II. The crowd of writers of every nation who impute the destruction of
+the Roman monuments to the Goths and the Christians, have neglected to
+inquire how far they were animated by a hostile principle, and how far
+they possest the means and the leisure to satiate their enmity. In the
+preceding volumes of this history I have described the triumph of
+barbarism and religion; and I can only resume in a few words their
+real or imaginary connection with the ruin of ancient Rome. Our fancy
+may create or adopt a pleasing romance: that the Goths and Vandals
+sallied from Scandinavia, ardent to avenge the flight of Odin, to
+break the chains and to chastise the oppressors of mankind; that they
+wished to burn the records of classic literature, and to found their
+national architecture on the broken members of the Tuscan and
+Corinthian orders. But in simple truth, the Northern conquerors were
+neither sufficiently savage nor sufficiently refined to entertain such
+aspiring ideas of destruction and revenge. The shepherds of Scythia
+and Germany had been educated in the armies of the empire, whose
+discipline they acquired and whose weakness they invaded; with the
+familiar use of the Latin tongue, they had learned to reverence the
+name and titles of Rome; and tho incapable of emulating, they were
+more inclined to admire than to abolish the arts and studies of a
+brighter period.
+
+In the transient possession of a rich and unresisting capital, the
+soldiers of Alaric and Genseric were stimulated by the passions of a
+victorious army; amidst the wanton indulgence of lust or cruelty,
+portable wealth was the object of their search; nor could they derive
+either pride or pleasure from the unprofitable reflection that they
+had battered to the ground the works of the consuls and Cæsars. Their
+moments were indeed precious: the Goths evacuated Rome on the sixth,
+the Vandals on the fifteenth day, and tho it be far more difficult to
+build than to destroy, their hasty assault would have made a slight
+impression on the solid piles of antiquity. We may remember that both
+Alaric and Genseric affected to spare the buildings of the city; that
+they subsisted in strength and beauty under the auspicious government
+of Theodoric; and that the momentary resentment of Totila was disarmed
+by his own temper and the advice of his friends and enemies. From
+these innocent Barbarians the reproach may be transferred to the
+Catholics of Rome. The statues, altars, and houses of the demons were
+an abomination in their eyes; and in the absolute command of the city,
+they might labor with zeal and perseverance to erase the idolatry of
+their ancestors. The demolition of the temples in the East affords to
+_them_ an example of conduct, and to _us_ an argument of belief; and
+it is probable that a portion of guilt or merit may be imputed with
+justice to the Roman proselytes. Yet their abhorrence was confined to
+the monuments of heathen superstition; and the civil structures that
+were dedicated to the business or pleasure of society might be
+preserved without injury or scandal. The change of religion was
+accomplished not by a popular tumult, but by the decrees of the
+emperors, of the Senate, and of time. Of the Christian hierarchy, the
+bishops of Rome were commonly the most prudent and least fanatic; nor
+can any positive charge be opposed to the meritorious act of saving
+and converting the majestic structure of the Pantheon.
+
+III. The value of any object that supplies the wants or pleasures of
+mankind is compounded of its substance and its form, of the materials
+and the manufacture. Its price must depend on the number of persons by
+whom it may be acquired and used; on the extent of the market; and
+consequently on the ease or difficulty of remote exportation according
+to the nature of the commodity, its local situation, and the temporary
+circumstances of the world. The Barbarian conquerors of Rome usurped
+in a moment the toil and treasure of successive ages; but except the
+luxuries of immediate consumption, they must view without desire all
+that could not be removed from the city in the Gothic wagons or the
+fleet of the Vandals. Gold and silver were the first objects of their
+avarice; as in every country, and in the smallest compass, they
+represent the most ample command of the industry and possessions of
+mankind. A vase or a statue of those precious metals might tempt the
+vanity of some Barbarian chief; but the grosser multitude, regardless
+of the form, was tenacious only of the substance, and the melted
+ingots might be readily divided and stamped into the current coin of
+the empire. The less active or less fortunate robbers were reduced to
+the baser plunder of brass, lead, iron, and copper: whatever had
+escaped the Goths and Vandals was pillaged by the Greek tyrants; and
+the Emperor Constans in his rapacious visit stript the bronze tiles
+from the roof of the Pantheon.
+
+The edifices of Rome might be considered as a vast and various mine:
+the first labor of extracting the materials was already performed; the
+metals were purified and cast; the marbles were hewn and polished; and
+after foreign and domestic rapine had been satiated, the remains of
+the city, could a purchaser have been found, were still venal. The
+monuments of antiquity had been left naked of their precious
+ornaments; but the Romans would demolish with their own hands the
+arches and walls, if the hope of profit could surpass the cost of the
+labor and exportation. If Charlemagne had fixt in Italy the seat of
+the Western Empire, his genius would have aspired to restore, rather
+than to violate, the works of the Cæsars: but policy confined the
+French monarch to the forests of Germany; his taste could be gratified
+only by destruction; and the new palace of Aix-la-Chapelle was
+decorated with the marbles of Ravenna and Rome. Five hundred years
+after Charlemagne, a king of Sicily, Robert--the wisest and most
+liberal sovereign of the age--was supplied with the same materials by
+the easy navigation of the Tiber and the sea; and Petrarch sighs an
+indignant complaint that the ancient capital of the world should adorn
+from her own bowels the slothful luxury of Naples.
+
+But these examples of plunder or purchase were rare in the darker
+ages; and the Romans, alone and unenvied, might have applied to their
+private or public use the remaining structures of antiquity, if in
+their present form and situation they had not been useless in a great
+measure to the city and its inhabitants. The walls still described the
+old circumference, but the city had descended from the seven hills
+into the Campus Martius; and some of the noblest monuments which had
+braved the injuries of time were left in a desert, far remote from the
+habitations of mankind....
+
+IV. I have reserved for the last the most potent and forcible cause of
+destruction, the domestic hostilities of the Romans themselves. Under
+the dominion of the Greek and French emperors, the peace of the city
+was disturbed by accidental tho frequent seditions: it is from the
+decline of the latter, from the beginning of the tenth century, that
+we may date the licentiousness of private war, which violated with
+impunity the laws of the Code and the gospel, without respecting the
+majesty of the absent sovereign or the presence and person of the
+vicar of Christ.
+
+In a dark period of five hundred years, Rome was perpetually afflicted
+by the sanguinary quarrels of the nobles and the people, the Guelphs
+and Ghibelines, the Colonna and Ursini; and if much has escaped the
+knowledge and much is unworthy of the notice, of history, I have
+exposed in the two preceding chapters the causes and effects of the
+public disorders. At such a time, when every quarrel was decided by
+the sword and none could trust their lives or properties to the
+impotence of law, the powerful citizens were armed for safety, or
+offense, against the domestic enemies whom they feared or hated.
+Except Venice alone, the same dangers and designs were common to all
+the free republics of Italy; and the nobles usurped the prerogative of
+fortifying their houses and erecting strong towers that were capable
+of resisting a sudden attack. The cities were filled with these
+hostile edifices; and the example of Lucca, which contained three
+hundred towers, her law which confined their height to the measure of
+four-score feet, may be extended with suitable latitude to the more
+opulent and populous states. The first step of the senator Brancaleone
+in the establishment of peace and justice, was to demolish (as we have
+already seen) one hundred and forty of the towers of Rome; and in the
+last days of anarchy and discord, as late as the reign of Martin the
+Fifth, forty-four still stood in one of the thirteen or fourteen
+regions of the city.
+
+To this mischievous purpose the remains of antiquity were most readily
+adapted: the temples and arches afforded a broad and solid basis for
+the new structures of brick and stone; and we can name the modern
+turrets that were raised on the triumphal monuments of Julius Cæsar,
+Titus, and the Antonines. With some slight alterations, a theater, an
+amphitheater, a mausoleum, was transformed into a strong and spacious
+citadel. I need not repeat that the mole of Adrian has assumed the
+title and form of the castle of St. Angelo; the Septizonium of Severus
+was capable of standing against a royal army; the sepulcher of Metella
+has sunk under its outworks; the theaters of Pompey and Marcellus were
+occupied by the Savelli and Orsini families; and the rough fortress
+has been gradually softened to the splendor and elegance of an Italian
+palace.
+
+The fame of Julius the Second, Leo the Tenth, and Sixtus the Fifth is
+accompanied by the superior merit of Bramante and Fontana, of Raphael
+and Michael Angelo; and the same munificence which had been displayed
+in palaces and temples was directed with equal zeal to revive and
+emulate the labors of antiquity. Prostrate obelisks were raised from
+the ground and erected in the most conspicuous places; of the eleven
+aqueducts of the Cæsars and consuls, three were restored; the
+artificial rivers were conducted over a long series of old, or of new
+arches, to discharge into marble basins a flood of salubrious and
+refreshing waters: and the spectator, impatient to ascend the steps of
+St. Peter's, is detained by a column of Egyptian granite, which rises
+between two lofty and perpetual fountains to the height of one hundred
+and twenty feet. The map, the description, the monuments of ancient
+Rome have been elucidated by the diligence of the antiquarian and the
+student; and the footsteps of heroes, the relics, not of superstition
+but of empire, are devoutly visited by a new race of pilgrims from the
+remote and once savage countries of the North.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 64: From the "Memoirs."]
+
+[Footnote 65: She has now an even greater title to remembrance, as the
+mother of Madame de Stäel.]
+
+[Footnote 66: From the "Memoirs."]
+
+[Footnote 67: From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."]
+
+[Footnote 68: Palmyra, of which only imposing ruins of the Roman
+period now remain, was situated on an oasis in a desert east of Syria.
+Its foundation is ascribed to Solomon. Palmyra had commercial
+importance as a center of the caravan trade of the East.]
+
+[Footnote 69: A city of Mesopotamia, on the Tigris, twenty miles
+south-east of Babylon.]
+
+[Footnote 70: The Greek philosopher, author of the famous essay "On
+Sublimity," who was Zenobia's counselor and the instructor of her
+children.]
+
+[Footnote 71: From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." Alaric
+was king of the West Goths. He died in the year Rome was sacked, and
+was buried with vast treasure in the bed of the river Busento.]
+
+[Footnote 72: From Chapter 50 of "The Decline and Fall of the Roman
+Empire." Hosein was a grandson of Mohammed, founder of the faith that
+bears his name.]
+
+[Footnote 73: Babylonia.]
+
+[Footnote 74: The Roman emperor still retained the title of Cæsar.]
+
+[Footnote 75: Chosroes is better known in our day as Phusrau, one of
+the kings of Persia.]
+
+[Footnote 76: The reputed founder of the Mohammedan sect called
+Yezidis.]
+
+[Footnote 77: From the final chapter of "The Decline and Fall of the
+Roman Empire."]
+
+[Footnote 78: A Tuscan author and antiquarian, born in 1381, died in
+1495; at one time secretary of the papal curia; author of a history of
+Florence, but chiefly remembered for having recovered works in Roman
+literature, including eight orations of Cicero.]
+
+
+
+
+END OF VOLUME IV.
+
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted
+to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)--Great Britain and Ireland II, by Various, Edited
+by Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey</h1>
+<pre>
+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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)--Great Britain and Ireland II</p>
+<p>Author: Various</p>
+<p>Editor: Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 8, 2007  [eBook #21775]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS, RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. IV (OF X)--GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND II***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Joseph R. Hauser, Sankar Viswanathan,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img class="img1" src="images/image_01.jpg" alt="DR. JOHNSON, GOLDSMITH, POPE, and GIBBON" width="500" height="729" /><br />
+<span class="caption"> DR. JOHNSON, GOLDSMITH, POPE, and GIBBON</span></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Title Page" width="500" height="815" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE BEST</h1>
+
+<h3><i>of the</i></h3>
+<h1><span class="smcap">World's Classics</span></h1>
+<h4>RESTRICTED TO PROSE</h4>
+<div class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="400" height="102" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h2>HENRY CABOT LODGE</h2>
+<h4><i>Editor-in-Chief</i></h4>
+<h2>FRANCIS W. HALSEY</h2>
+<h4><i>Associate Editor</i></h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>With an Introduction, Biographical and<br />
+Explanatory Notes, etc.</h3>
+
+<h3>IN TEN VOLUMES</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>Vol. IV</h3>
+
+<h1>GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND&mdash;II</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h3>FUNK &amp; WAGNALLS COMPANY</h3>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK AND LONDON</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h5><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1909, <span class="smcap">by</span></h5>
+<h4>FUNK &amp; WAGNALLS COMPANY</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>The Best of the World's Classics</h2>
+
+<h3>VOL. IV</h3>
+
+<h1>GREAT BRITAIN AND
+<br />
+IRELAND&mdash;II</h1
+
+>
+<h4>1672-1800</h4>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">Vol. IV&mdash;Great Britain and Ireland&mdash;II</span></h2>
+<table summary="Contents">
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td></td><td class="tocpg"><i>Page</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#SIR_RICHARD_STEELE">Sir Richard Steele</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1672, died in 1729.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I">Of Companions and Flatterers</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II">The Story-Teller and His Art.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Guardian</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III">Sir Roger and the Widow.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Spectator</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#IV">The Coverley Family Portraits.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Spectator</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">V</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#V">On Certain Symptoms of Greatness.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Tatler</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">VI</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#VI">How to Be Happy tho Married.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Tatler</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#LORD_BOLINGBROKE">Lord Bolingbroke</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1678, died in 1751.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_1">Of the Shortness of Human Life</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_1">Rules for the Study of History.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(One of the "Letters on the Study of History")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALEXANDER_POPE">Alexander Pope</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1688, died in 1744.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_2">An Ancient English Country Seat.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_2">His Compliments to Lady Mary.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_1">How to Make an Epic Poem.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Guardian</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#LADY_MARY_WORTLEY_MONTAGU">Lady Mary Wortley Montagu</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1689, died in 1762.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_3">On Happiness in the Matrimonial State.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Edward Wortley Montagu before she married him)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_3">Inoculation for the Smallpox.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Sarah Criswell, written from Adrianople, Turkey)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#LORD_CHESTERFIELD">Lord Chesterfield</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1694, died in 1773.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_4">Of Good Manners, Dress and the World.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Letters to His Son")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_4">Of Attentions to Ladies.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Letters to His Son")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#HENRY_FIELDING">Henry Fielding</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1707, died in 1754.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_5">Tom the Hero Enters the Stage.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "Tom Jones")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_5">Partridge Sees Garrick at the Play.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "Tom Jones")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_2">Mr. Adams in a Political Light.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "Joseph Andrews")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#SAMUEL_JOHNSON">Samuel Johnson</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1709, died in 1784.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_6">On Publishing His "Dictionary."</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the Preface to the "Dictionary")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_6">Pope and Dryden Compared.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Lives of the Poets")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_3">Letter to Chesterfield on the Completion of the "Dictionary."</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From Boswell's "Life")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#IV_1">On the Advantages of Living in a Garret.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From <i>The Rambler</i>)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#DAVID_HUME">David Hume</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1711, died in 1776.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_7">The Character of Queen Elizabeth.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "History of England")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_7">The Defeat of the Armada.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "History of England")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_4">The First Principles of Government</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#LAURENCE_STERNE">Laurence Sterne</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1713, died in 1768.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_8">The Starling in Captivity.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Sentimental Journey")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_8">To Moulines with Maria.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Sentimental Journey")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_5">The Death of LeFevre.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "Tristram Shandy")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#IV_2">Passages from the Romance of My Uncle Toby and the Widow.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "Tristram Shandy")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#THOMAS_GRAY">Thomas Gray</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1716, died in 1771.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_9">Warwick Castle.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Thomas Wharton)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_9">To His Friend Mason on the Death of Mason's Mother</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_6">On His Own Writings.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Horace Walpole)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#IV_3">His Friendship for Bonstetten.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From a Letter to Bonstetten)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#HORACE_WALPOLE">Horace Walpole</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1717, died in 1797.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_10">Hogarth.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Anecdotes of Painting in England")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_10">The War in America.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From a Letter written at Strawberry Hill)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_7">The Death of George II.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to Sir Horace Mann)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#GILBERT_WHITE">Gilbert White</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1720, died in 1793.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#THE_CHIMNEY-SWALLOW">The Chimney Swallow.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Natural History of Selborne")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ADAM_SMITH">Adam Smith</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1723, died in 1790.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_11">Of Ambition Misdirected.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Theory of Moral Sentiments")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_11">The Advantages of a Division of Labor.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Wealth of Nations")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#SIR_WILLIAM_BLACKSTONE">Sir William Blackstone</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1723, died in 1780.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#PROFESSIONAL_SOLDIERS_IN_FREE_COUNTRIES">Professional Soldiers in Free Countries.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Commentaries")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#OLIVER_GOLDSMITH">Oliver Goldsmith</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1728, died in 1774.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_12">The Ambitions of the Vicar's Family.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Vicar of Wakefield")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_12">Sagacity in Insects.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Bee")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_8">A Chinaman's View of London.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Citizen of the World")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#EDMUND_BURKE">Edmund Burke</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1729, died in 1797.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_13">The Principles of Good Taste.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Sublime and Beautiful")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_13">A Letter to a Noble Lord</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_9">On the Death of His Son</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#IV_4">Marie Antoinette.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Reflections on the Revolution in France")</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#WILLIAM_COWPER">William Cowper</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1731, died in 1800.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_14">Of Keeping One's Self Employed.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(A Letter to John Newton)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_14">Of Johnson's Treatment of Milton.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(Letter to the Rev. William Unwin)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_10">On the Publication of His Books.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(Letter to the Rev. William Unwin)</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#EDWARD_GIBBON">Edward Gibbon</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1737, died in 1794.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#I_15">The Romance of His Youth.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Memoirs")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#II_15">The Inception and Completion of the "Decline and Fall."</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From the "Memoirs")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#III_11">The Fall of Zenobia.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#IV_5">Alaric's Entry into Rome.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">V</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#V_1">The Death of Hosein.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">VI</td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td><a href="#VI_1">The Causes of the Destruction of the City of Rome.</a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td>(From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND&mdash;II</h2>
+<h2>1672-1800</h2>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="SIR_RICHARD_STEELE" id="SIR_RICHARD_STEELE"></a>SIR RICHARD STEELE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Ireland in 1672; died in Wales in 1729; companion of
+Addison at Oxford; served in the army in 1694, becoming a
+captain; elected to Parliament, but expelled for using
+seditious language; knighted under George I; quarreled with
+Addison in 1719; founded the Tatler, and next to Addison,
+was the chief writer for the Spectator.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF COMPANIONS AND FLATTERERS</h2>
+
+
+<p>An old acquaintance who met me this morning seemed overjoyed to see
+me, and told me I looked as well as he had known me do these forty
+years; but, continued he, not quite the man you were when we visited
+together at Lady Brightly's. Oh! Isaac, those days are over. Do you
+think there are any such fine creatures now living as we then
+conversed with? He went on with a thousand incoherent circumstances,
+which, in his imagination, must needs please me; but they had the
+quite contrary effect. The flattery with which he began, in telling me
+how well I wore, was not disagreeable; but his indiscreet mention of a
+set of acquaintance we had outlived, recalled ten thousand things to
+my memory, which made me reflect upon my present condition with
+regret. Had he indeed been so kind as, after a long absence, to
+felicitate me upon an indolent and easy old age, and mentioned how
+much he and I had to thank for, who at our time of day could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> walk
+firmly, eat heartily and converse cheerfully, he had kept up my
+pleasure in myself. But of all mankind, there are none so shocking as
+these injudicious civil people. They ordinarily begin upon something
+that they know must be a satisfaction; but then, for fear of the
+imputation of flattery, they follow it with the last thing in the
+world of which you would be reminded. It is this that perplexes civil
+persons. The reason that there is such a general outcry among us
+against flatterers is that there are so very few good ones. It is the
+nicest art in this life, and is a part of eloquence which does not
+want the preparation that is necessary to all other parts of it, that
+your audience should be your well-wishers; for praise from an enemy is
+the most pleasing of all commendations.</p>
+
+<p>It is generally to be observed, that the person most agreeable to a
+man for a constancy, is he that has no shining qualities, but is a
+certain degree above great imperfections, whom he can live with as his
+inferior, and who will either overlook or not observe his little
+defects. Such an easy companion as this, either now and then throws
+out a little flattery, or lets a man silently flatter himself in his
+superiority to him. If you take notice, there is hardly a rich man in
+the world who has not such a led friend of small consideration, who is
+a darling for his insignificancy. It is a great ease to have one in
+our own shape a species below us, and who, without being listed in our
+service, is by nature of our retinue. These dependents are of
+excellent use on a rainy day, or when a man has not a mind to dress;
+or to exclude solitude, when one has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> neither a mind to that nor to
+company. There are of this good-natured order who are so kind to
+divide themselves, and do these good offices to many. Five or six of
+them visit a whole quarter of the town, and exclude the spleen,
+without fees, from the families they frequent. If they do not
+prescribe physic, they can be company when you take it.</p>
+
+<p>Very great benefactors to the rich, or those whom they call people at
+their ease, are your persons of no consequence. I have known some of
+them, by the help of a little cunning, make delicious flatterers. They
+know the course of the town, and the general characters of persons; by
+this means they will sometimes tell the most agreeable falsehoods
+imaginable. They will acquaint you that such one of a quite contrary
+party said, that tho you were engaged in different interests, yet he
+had the greatest respect for your good sense and address. When one of
+these has a little cunning, he passes his time in the utmost
+satisfaction to himself and his friends; for his position is never to
+report or speak a displeasing thing to his friend. As for letting him
+go on in an error, he knows advice against them is the office of
+persons of greater talents and less discretion.</p>
+
+<p>The Latin word for a flatterer (<i>assentator</i>) implies no more than a
+person that barely consents; and indeed such a one, if a man were able
+to purchase or maintain him, can not be bought too dear. Such a one
+never contradicts you, but gains upon you, not by a fulsome way of
+commending you in broad terms, but liking whatever you propose or
+utter; at the same time is ready to beg your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> pardon, and gainsay you
+if you chance to speak ill of yourself. An old lady is very seldom
+without such a companion as this, who can recite the names of all her
+lovers, and the matches refused by her in the days when she minded
+such vanities&mdash;as she is pleased to call them, tho she so much
+approves the mention of them. It is to be noted, that a woman's
+flatterer is generally elder than herself, her years serving to
+recommend her patroness's age, and to add weight to her complaisance
+in all other particulars.</p>
+
+<p>We gentlemen of small fortunes are extremely necessitous in this
+particular. I have indeed one who smokes with me often; but his parts
+are so low, that all the incense he does me is to fill his pipe with
+me, and to be out at just as many whiffs as I take. This is all the
+praise or assent that he is capable of, yet there are more hours when
+I would rather be in his company than that of the brightest man I
+know. It would be a hard matter to give an account of this inclination
+to be flattered; but if we go to the bottom of it, we shall find that
+the pleasure in it is something like that of receiving money which lay
+out. Every man thinks he has an estate of reputation, and is glad to
+see one that will bring any of it home to him; it is no matter how
+dirty a bag it is conveyed to him in, or by how clownish a messenger,
+so the money is good. All that we want to be pleased with flattery, is
+to believe that the man is sincere who gives it us. It is by this one
+accident that absurd creatures often outrun the most skilful in this
+art. Their want of ability is here an advantage, and their bluntness,
+as it is the seeming effect of sincerity, is the best cover to
+artifice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It is indeed, the greatest of injuries to flatter any but the unhappy,
+or such as are displeased with themselves for some infirmity. In this
+latter case we have a member of our club, that, when Sir Jeffrey falls
+asleep, wakens him with snoring. This makes Sir Jeffrey hold up for
+some moments the longer, to see there are men younger than himself
+among us, who are more lethargic than he is.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE STORY-TELLER AND HIS ART<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have often thought that a story-teller is born, as well as a poet.
+It is, I think, certain, that some men have such a peculiar cast of
+mind, that they see things in another light than men of grave
+dispositions. Men of a lively imagination and a mirthful temper will
+represent things to their hearers in the same manner as they
+themselves were affected with them; and whereas serious spirits might
+perhaps have been disgusted at the sight of some odd occurences in
+life, yet the very same occurrences shall please them in a well-told
+story, where the disagreeable parts of the images are concealed, and
+those only which are pleasing exhibited to the fancy. Story-telling is
+therefore not an art, but what we call a "knack"; it doth not so much
+subsist upon wit as upon humor; and I will add, that it is not perfect
+without proper gesticulations of the body, which naturally <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>attend
+such merry emotions of the mind. I know very well that a certain
+gravity of countenance sets some stories off to advantage, where the
+hearer is to be surprized in the end. But this is by no means a
+general rule; for it is frequently convenient to aid and assist by
+cheerful looks and whimsical agitations.</p>
+
+<p>I will go yet further, and affirm that the success of a story very
+often depends upon the make of the body, and the formation of the
+features, of him who relates it. I have been of this opinion ever
+since I criticized upon the chin of Dick Dewlap. I very often had the
+weakness to repine at the prosperity of his conceits, which made him
+pass for a wit with the widow at the coffee-house and the ordinary
+mechanics that frequent it; nor could I myself forbear laughing at
+them most heartily, tho upon examination I thought most of them very
+flat and insipid. I found, after some time, that the merit of his wit
+was founded upon the shaking of a fat paunch, and the tossing up of a
+pair of rosy jowls. Poor Dick had a fit of sickness, which robbed him
+of his fat and his fame at once; and it was full three months before
+he regained his reputation, which rose in proportion to his floridity.
+He is now very jolly and ingenious, and hath a good constitution for
+wit.</p>
+
+<p>Those who are thus adorned with the gifts of nature, are apt to show
+their parts with too much ostentation. I would therefore advise all
+the professors of this art never to tell stories but as they seem to
+grow out of the subject-matter of the conversation, or as they serve
+to illustrate or enliven it. Stories that are very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> common are
+generally irksome; but may be aptly introduced, provided they be only
+hinted at, and mentioned by way of allusion. Those that are altogether
+new, should never be ushered in without a short and pertinent
+character of the chief persons concerned, because, by that means, you
+may make the company acquainted with them; and it is a certain rule,
+that slight and trivial accounts of those who are familiar to us,
+administer more mirth than the brightest points of wit in unknown
+characters.</p>
+
+<p>A little circumstance in the complexion of dress of the man you are
+talking of, sets his image before the hearer, if it be chosen aptly
+for the story. Thus, I remember Tom Lizard, after having made his
+sisters merry with an account of a formal old man's way of
+complimenting, owned very frankly that his story would not have been
+worth one farthing, if he had made the hat of him whom he represented
+one inch narrower. Besides the marking distinct characters, and
+selecting pertinent circumstances, it is likewise necessary to leave
+off in time, and end smartly; so that there is a kind of drama in the
+forming of a story; and the manner of conducting and pointing it is
+the same as in an epigram. It is a miserable thing, after one hath
+raised the expectation of the company by humorous characters and a
+pretty conceit, to pursue the matter too far. There is no retreating;
+and how poor is it for a story-teller to end his relation by saying,
+"that's all!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>SIR ROGER AND THE WIDOW<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my
+time, it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which
+my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than
+a disappointment in love. It happened this evening that we fell into a
+very pleasing walk at a distance from his house. As soon as we came
+into it. "It is," quoth the good old man, looking round him with a
+smile, "very hard that any part of my land should be settled upon one
+who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I
+could not see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I
+should reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest
+hand of any woman in the world. You are to know, this was the place
+wherein I used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come
+into it, but the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had
+actually walked with that beautiful creature under these shades. I
+have been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several of
+these trees; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt
+the removing of their passion by the methods which serve only to
+imprint it deeper. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in
+the world."</p>
+
+<p>Here followed a profound silence; and I was not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>displeased to observe
+my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever
+before taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause,
+he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life,
+with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had
+ever had before; and gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his
+before it received that stroke which has ever since affected his words
+and actions. But he went on as follows:</p>
+
+<p>"I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow
+the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this
+spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good
+neighborhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country sports and
+recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was
+obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my servants,
+officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man
+(who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public
+occasion of showing my figure and behavior to advantage. You may
+easily imagine to yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall,
+rode well, and was very well drest, at the head of a whole county,
+with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted. I
+can assure you, I was not a little pleased with the kind looks and
+glances I had from all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall
+where the assizes were held.</p>
+
+<p>"But when I came there, a beautiful creature, in a widow's habit, sat
+in court to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This
+commanding creature (who was born for the destruction<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> of all who
+behold her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the
+whispers of all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I
+warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, until
+she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she
+encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her
+bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it but I bowed like a great
+surprized booby; and knowing her cause was to be the first which came
+on, I cried, like a great captivated calf as I was, 'Make way for the
+defendant's witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county
+immediately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow.
+During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I
+warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took
+opportunities to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would
+be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting
+before so much company, that not only I, but the whole court, was
+prejudiced in her favor; and all that the next heir to her husband had
+to urge was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when it came to
+her counsel to reply, there was not half so much said as every one
+besides in the court thought he could have urged to her advantage.</p>
+
+<p>"You must understand, sir, this perverse woman is one of those
+unaccountable creatures that secretly rejoice in the admiration of
+men, but indulge themselves in no further consequences. Hence it is
+that she has ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her
+slaves in town to those in the country, according to the seasons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> of
+the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures of
+friendship. She is always accompanied by a confidant, who is witness
+to her daily protestations against our sex, and consequently a bar to
+her first steps toward love upon the strength of her own maxims and
+declarations.</p>
+
+<p>"However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress of mine has
+distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir
+Roger de Coverley was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes in
+the country. I was told she said so by one who thought he rallied me;
+but upon the strength of this slender encouragement of being thought
+least detestable, I made new liveries, new paired my coach horses,
+sent them all to town to be bitted, and taught to throw their legs
+well, and move all together before I pretended to cross the country,
+and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the
+character of my fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make my
+addresses. The particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame
+your wishes, and yet command respect. To make her mistress of this
+art, she has a greater share of knowledge, wit, and good sense, than
+is usual even among men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the
+race of women. If you will not let her go on with a certain artifice
+with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm herself with her
+real charms, and strike you with admiration instead of desire. It is
+certain that if you were to behold the whole woman, there is that
+dignity in her aspect, that composure in her motion, that complacency
+in her manner, that if her form<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> makes you hope, her merit makes you
+fear. But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no country
+gentleman can approach her without being a jest.</p>
+
+<p>"As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house, I was admitted
+to her presence with great civility; at the same time she placed
+herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude as I think you call
+the posture of a picture, that she discovered new charms, and I at
+last came toward her with such an awe as made me speechless. This she
+no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a
+discourse to me concerning love and honor, as they both are followed
+by pretenders, and the real votaries to them. When she discust these
+points in a discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as the
+best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, she asked me whether
+she was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these important
+particulars. Her confidant sat by her, and upon my being in the last
+confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers, turning to her,
+says, 'I am very glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon this subject,
+and seems resolved to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when
+he pleases to speak.'</p>
+
+<p>"They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour
+meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and
+took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in her
+way, and she as often directed a discourse to me which I do not
+understand.</p>
+
+<p>"This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> from the most
+beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with
+all mankind, and you must make love to her, as you would conquer the
+sphinx, by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there
+were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man
+be, who could converse with a creature&mdash;but, after all, you may be
+sure her heart is fixt on some one or other; and yet I have been
+credibly informed; but who can believe half that is said! After she
+had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom, and adjusted
+her tucker. Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding
+her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently; her voice in her
+ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know
+I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and
+she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the
+country. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world.
+I can assure you, sir, were you to behold her, you would be in the
+same condition; for as her speech is music, her form is angelic. But I
+find I grow irregular while I am talking of her; but, indeed, it would
+be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh, the excellent
+creature! she is as inimitable to all women as she is inaccessible to
+all men."</p>
+
+<p>I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him toward the
+house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced
+that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which
+appears in some parts of my friend's discourse; tho he has so much
+command of himself as not directly to mention her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>THE COVERLEY FAMILY PORTRAITS<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I was this morning walking in the gallery, when Sir Roger entered at
+the end opposite to me, and, advancing toward me, said he was glad to
+meet me among his relations the de Coverleys, and hoped I liked the
+conversation of so much good company who were as silent as myself. I
+knew he alluded to the pictures, and as he is a gentleman who does not
+a little value himself upon his ancient descent, I expected he would
+give me some account of them. We were now arrived at the upper end of
+the gallery, when the knight faced toward one of the pictures, and as
+we stood before it, he entered into the matter, after his blunt way of
+saying things, as they occur to his imagination, without regular
+introduction, or care to preserve the appearance of chain of thought.</p>
+
+<p>"It is," said he, "worth while to consider the force of dress; and how
+the persons of one age differ from those of another, merely by that
+only. One may observe also, that the general fashion of one age has
+been followed by one particular set of people in another, and by them
+preserved from one generation to another. Thus the vast jutting coat
+and small bonnet, which was the habit in Henry the Seventh's time, is
+kept on in the yeomen of the guard; not without a good and politic
+view, because they look a foot taller, and a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>foot and a half broader;
+besides, that the cap leaves the face expanded, and consequently more
+terrible, and fitter to stand at the entrance of palaces.</p>
+
+<p>"This predecessor of ours, you see, is drest after this manner, and
+his cheeks would be no larger than mine, were he in a hat as I am. He
+was the last man that won a prize in the Tilt-yard (which is now a
+common street before Whitehall). You see the broken lance that lies
+there by his right foot. He shivered that lance of his adversary all
+to pieces; and bearing himself, look you, sir, in this manner, at the
+same time he came within the target of the gentleman who rode against
+him, and taking him with incredible force before him on the pommel of
+his saddle, he in that manner rode the tournament over, with an air
+that showed he did it rather to perform the rule of the lists than
+expose his enemy; however, it appeared he knew how to make use of a
+victory, and with a gentle trot he marched up to a gallery, where
+their mistress sat (for they were rivals), and let him down with
+laudable courtesy and pardonable insolence. I do not know but it might
+be exactly where the coffee-house is now.</p>
+
+<p>"You are to know this my ancestor was not only a military genius, but
+fit also for the arts of peace, for he played on the bass viol as well
+as any gentleman at court; you see where his viol hangs by his
+basket-hilt sword. The action at the Tilt-yard you may be sure won the
+fair lady, who was a maid of honor, and the greatest beauty of her
+time; here she stands the next picture. You see, sir, my
+great-great-great-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>grandmother has on the new-fashioned petticoat,
+except that the modern is gathered at the waist. My grandmother
+appears as if she stood in a large drum, whereas, the ladies now walk
+as if they were in a go-cart. For all this lady was bred at court, she
+became an excellent country wife, she brought ten children, and when I
+show you the library, you shall see in her own hand (allowing for the
+difference of the language) the best receipt now in English both for a
+hasty pudding and a white-pot.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please to fall back a little, because it is necessary to look
+at the three next pictures at one view; these are three sisters. She
+on the right hand, who is so very beautiful, died a maid; the next to
+her, still handsomer, had the same fate, against her will; this homely
+thing in the middle had both their portions added to her own, and was
+stolen by a neighboring gentleman, a man of stratagem and resolution,
+for he poisoned three mastiffs to come at her, and knocked down two
+deer-stealers in carrying her off. Misfortunes happen in all families.
+The theft of this romp, and so much money, was no great matter to our
+estate. But the next heir that possess it was this soft gentleman whom
+you see there. Observe the small buttons, the little boots, the laces,
+the slashes about his clothes, and, above all, the posture he is drawn
+in (which, to be sure, was his own choosing), you see he sits with one
+hand on a desk writing and looking, as it were, another way, like an
+easy writer, or a sonneteer. He was one of those that had too much wit
+to know how to live in the world; he was a man of no justice, but
+great good manners;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> he ruined everybody that had anything to do with
+him, but never said a rude thing in his life; the most indolent person
+in the world; he would sign a deed that passed away half his estate
+with his gloves on, but would not put on his hat before a lady if it
+were to save his country. He is said to be the first that made love by
+squeezing the hand. He left the estate with ten thousand pounds debt
+upon it; but, however, by all hands I have been informed that he was
+every way the finest gentleman in the world. That debt lay heavy on
+our house for one generation, but it was retrieved by a gift from that
+honest man you see there, a citizen of our name, but nothing at all
+akin to us. I know Sir Andrew Freeport has said behind my back that
+this man was descended from one of the ten children of the maid of
+honor I showed you above; but it was never made out. We winked at the
+thing, indeed, because money was wanting at that time."</p>
+
+<p>Here I saw my friend a little embarrassed, and turned my face to the
+next portraiture. Sir Roger went on with his account of the gallery in
+the following manner:</p>
+
+<p>"This man [pointing to him I looked at] I take to be the honor of our
+house. Sir Humphrey de Coverley; he was in his dealings as punctual as
+a tradesman, and as generous as a gentleman. He would have thought
+himself as much undone by breaking his word, as if it were to be
+followed by bankruptcy. He served his country as a knight of the shire
+to his dying day. He found it no easy matter to maintain an integrity
+in his words and actions, even in things that regarded the offices
+which were incumbent upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> him, in the care of his own affairs and
+relations of life, and therefore dreaded (tho he had great talents) to
+go into employments of state, where he must be exposed to the snares
+of ambition. Innocence of life and great ability were the
+distinguishing parts of his character; the latter, he had often
+observed, had led to the destruction of the former, and he used
+frequently to lament that great and good had not the same
+signification. He was an excellent husbandman, but had resolved not to
+exceed such a degree of wealth; all above it he bestowed in secret
+bounties many years after the sum he aimed at for his own use was
+attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, but to a decent old age
+spent the life and fortune which was superfluous to himself, in the
+service of his friends and neighbors."</p>
+
+<p>Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Roger ended the discourse of
+this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the servant, that this
+his ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly escaped being killed in the
+civil wars. "For," said he, "he was sent out of the field upon a
+private message the day before the battle of Worcester." The whim of
+narrowly escaping by having been within a day of danger, with other
+matters above mentioned, mixed with good sense, left me at a loss
+whether I was more delighted with my friend's wisdom or simplicity.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2>
+
+<h2>ON CERTAIN SYMPTOMS OF GREATNESS<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>There is no affection of the mind so much blended in human nature, and
+wrought into our very constitution, as pride. It appears under a
+multitude of disguises, and breaks out in ten thousand different
+symptoms. Every one feels it in himself, and yet wonders to see it in
+his neighbor. I must confess, I met with an instance of it the other
+day where I should very little have expected it. Who would believe the
+proud person I am going to speak of is a cobbler upon Ludgate hill?
+This artist being naturally a lover of respect, and considering that
+his circumstances are such that no man living will give it him, has
+contrived the figure of a beau, in wood; who stands before him in a
+bending posture, with his hat under his left arm, and his right hand
+extended in such a manner as to hold a thread, a piece of wax, or an
+awl, according to the particular service in which his master thinks
+fit to employ him. When I saw him, he held a candle in this obsequious
+posture. I was very well pleased with the cobbler's invention, that
+had so ingeniously contrived an inferior, and stood a little while
+contemplating this inverted idolatry, wherein the image did homage to
+the man. When we meet with such a fantastic vanity in one of this
+order, it is no wonder if we may trace it through all degrees above
+it, and particularly through all the steps of greatness.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
+<p>We easily see the absurdity of pride when it enters into the heart of
+a cobbler; tho in reality it is altogether as ridiculous and
+unreasonable, wherever it takes possession of a human creature. There
+is no temptation to it from the reflection upon our being in general,
+or upon any comparative perfection, whereby one man may excel another.
+The greater a man's knowledge is, the greater motive he may seem to
+have for pride; but in the same proportion as the one rises the other
+sinks, it being the chief office of wisdom to discover to us our
+weaknesses and imperfections.</p>
+
+<p>As folly is the foundation of pride, the natural superstructure of it
+is madness. If there was an occasion for the experiment, I would not
+question to make a proud man a lunatic in three weeks' time, provided
+I had it in my power to ripen his frenzy with proper applications. It
+is an admirable reflection in Terence, where it is said of a parasite,
+"<i>Hic homines ex stultis facit insanos.</i>" "This fellow," says he, "has
+an art of converting fools into madmen." When I was in France, the
+region of complaisance and vanity, I have often observed that a great
+man who has entered a levee of flatterers humble and temperate has
+grown so insensibly heated by the court which was paid him on all
+sides, that he has been quite distracted before he could get into his
+coach.</p>
+
+<p>If we consult the collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find most of
+them are beholden to their pride for their introduction into that
+magnificent palace. I had, some years ago, the curiosity to inquire
+into the particular circumstances of these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> whimsical freeholders; and
+learned from their own mouths the condition and character of each of
+them. Indeed, I found that all I spoke to were persons of quality.
+There were at that time five duchesses, three earls, two heathen gods,
+an emperor, and a prophet. There were also a great number of such as
+were locked up from their estates, and others who concealed their
+titles. A leather-seller of Taunton whispered me in the ear that he
+was the "Duke of Monmouth," but begged me not to betray him. At a
+little distance from him sat a tailor's wife, who asked me, as I went,
+if I had seen the sword-bearer, upon which I presumed to ask her who
+she was, and was answered, "My lady mayoress."</p>
+
+<p>I was very sensibly touched with compassion toward these miserable
+people; and, indeed, extremely mortified to see human nature capable
+of being thus disfigured. However, I reaped this benefit from it, that
+I was resolved to guard myself against a passion which makes such
+havoc in the brain, and produces so much disorder in the imagination.
+For this reason I have endeavored to keep down the secret swellings of
+resentment, and stifle the very first suggestions of self-esteem; to
+establish my mind in tranquillity, and over-value nothing in my own or
+in another's possession.</p>
+
+<p>For the benefit of such whose heads are a little turned, tho not to so
+great a degree as to qualify them for the place of which I have been
+now speaking, I shall assign one of the sides of the college which I
+am erecting, for the cure of this dangerous distemper.</p>
+
+<p>The most remarkable of the persons, whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> disturbance arises from
+pride, and whom I shall use all possible diligence to cure, are such
+as are hidden in the appearance of quite contrary habits and
+dispositions. Among such, I shall, in the first place, take care of
+one who is under the most subtle species of pride that I have observed
+in my whole experience.</p>
+
+<p>The patient is a person for whom I have a great respect, as being an
+old courtier, and a friend of mine in my youth. The man has but a bare
+subsistence, just enough to pay his reckoning with us at the Trumpet;
+but, by having spent the beginning of his life is the hearing of great
+men and persons of power, he is always promising to do good offices to
+introduce every man he converses with into the world; will desire one
+of ten times his substance to let him see him sometimes, and hints to
+him that he does not forget him. He answers to matters of no
+consequence with great circumspection; but, however, maintains a
+general civility in his words and actions, and an insolent benevolence
+to all whom he has to do with. This he practises with a grave tone and
+air; and tho I am his senior by twelve years, and richer by forty
+pounds per annum, he had yesterday the impudence to commend me to my
+face, and tell me, "he should be always ready to encourage me." In a
+word, he is a very insignificant fellow, but exceeding gracious. The
+best return I can make him for his favors is to carry him myself to
+Bedlam and see him well taken care of.</p>
+
+<p>The next person I shall provide for is of a quite contrary character,
+that has in him all the stiffness and insolence of quality, without a
+grain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> of sense or good-nature, to make it either respected or
+beloved. His pride has infected every muscle of his face; and yet,
+after all his endeavors to show mankind that he contemns them, he is
+only neglected by all that see him, as not of consequence enough to be
+hated.</p>
+
+<p>For the cure of this particular sort of madness, it will be necessary
+to break through all forms with him, and familiarize his carriage by
+the use of a good cudgel. It may likewise be of great benefit to make
+him jump over a stick half a dozen times every morning.</p>
+
+<p>A third, whom I have in my eye, is a young fellow, whose lunacy is
+such that he boasts of nothing but what he ought to be ashamed of. He
+is vain of being rotten, and talks publicly of having committed crimes
+which he ought to be hanged for by the laws of his country.</p>
+
+<p>There are several others whose brains are hurt with pride, and whom I
+may hereafter attempt to recover; but shall conclude my present list
+with an old woman, who is just dropping into her grave, that talks of
+nothing but her birth. Tho she has not a tooth in her head, she
+expects to be valued for the blood in her veins, which she fancies is
+much better than that which glows in the cheeks of Belinda, and sets
+half the town on fire.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2>
+
+<h2>HOW TO BE HAPPY THO MARRIED<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>My brother Tranquillus being gone out of town for some days, my sister
+Jenny sent me word she would come and dine with me, and therefore
+desired me to have no other company, I took care accordingly, and was
+not a little pleased to see her enter the room with a decent and
+matron-like behavior, which I thought very much became her. I saw she
+had a great deal to say to me, and easily discovered in her eyes, and
+the air of her countenance, that she had abundance of satisfaction in
+her heart, which she longed to communicate. However, I was resolved to
+let her break into her discourse her own way, and reduced her to a
+thousand little devices and intimations to bring me to the mention of
+her husband. But finding I was resolved not to name him, she began of
+her own accord. "My husband," said she, "gives his humble service to
+you," to which I only answered, "I hope he is well"; and, without
+waiting for a reply, fell into other subjects.</p>
+
+<p>She at last was out of all patience, and said, with a smile and manner
+that I thought had more beauty and spirit than I had ever observed
+before in her, "I did not think, brother, you had been so ill-natured.
+You have seen, ever since I came in, that I had a mind to talk of my
+husband, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>and you will not be so kind as to give me an occasion."</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know," said I, "but it might be a disagreeable subject to
+you. You do not take me for so old-fashioned a fellow as to think of
+entertaining a young lady with the discourse of her husband. I know
+nothing is more acceptable than to speak of one who is to be so, but
+to speak of one who is so! indeed, Jenny, I am a better-bred man than
+you think me."</p>
+
+<p>She showed a little dislike at my raillery; and, by her bridling up, I
+perceived she expected to be treated hereafter not as Jenny Distaff,
+but Mrs. Tranquillus. I was very well pleased with this change in her
+humor; and, upon talking with her on several subjects, I could not but
+fancy I saw a great deal of her husband's way and manner in her
+remarks, her phrases, the tone of her voice, and the very air of her
+countenance. This gave me an unspeakable satisfaction, not only
+because I had found her a husband, from whom she could learn many
+things that were laudable, but also because I looked upon her
+imitation of him as an infallible sign that she entirely loved him.
+This is an observation that I never knew fail, tho I do not remember
+that any other has made it. The natural shyness of her sex hindered
+her from telling me the greatness of her own passion; but I easily
+collected it from the representation she gave me of his.</p>
+
+<p>"I have everything," says she, "in Tranquillus, that I can wish for;
+and enjoy in him, what, indeed, you have told me were to be met with
+in a good husband, the fondness of a lover, the tenderness of a
+parent, and the intimacy of a friend."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It transported me to see her eyes swimming in tears of affection when
+she spoke. "And is there not, dear sister," said I, "more pleasure in
+the possession of such a man than in all the little impertinencies of
+balls, assemblies, and equipage, which it cost me so much pains to
+make you contemn?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered, smiling, "Tranquillus has made me a sincere convert in a
+few weeks, tho I am afraid you could not have done it in your whole
+life. To tell you truly, I have only one fear hanging upon me, which
+is apt to give me trouble in the midst of all my satisfactions: I am
+afraid, you must know, that I shall not always make the same amiable
+appearance in his eye that I do at present. You know, brother
+Bickerstaff, that you have the reputation of a conjurer; and, if you
+have any one secret in your art to make your sister always beautiful,
+I should be happier than if I were mistress of all the worlds you have
+shown me in a starry night."</p>
+
+<p>"Jenny," said I, "without having recourse to magic, I shall give you
+one plain rule that will not fail of making you always amiable to a
+man who has so great a passion for you, and is of so equal and
+reasonable a temper as Tranquillus. Endeavor to please, and you must
+please; be always in the same disposition, as you are when you ask for
+this secret, and you may take my word, you will never want it. An
+inviolable fidelity, good humor, and complacency of temper outlive all
+the charms of a fine face, and make the decays of it invisible."</p>
+
+<p>We discoursed very long upon this head, which was equally agreeable to
+us both; for, I must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> confess, as I tenderly love her, I take as much
+pleasure in giving her instructions for her welfare, as she herself
+does in receiving them. I proceeded, therefore, to inculcate these
+sentiments by relating a very particular passage that happened within
+my own knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>There were several of us making merry at a friend's house in a country
+village, when the sexton of the parish church entered the room in a
+sort of surprize, and told us, "that as he was digging a grave in the
+chancel, a little blow of his pickax opened a decayed coffin, in which
+there were several written papers." Our curiosity was immediately
+raised, so that we went to the place where the sexton had been at
+work, and found a great concourse of people about the grave. Among the
+rest there was an old woman, who told us the person buried there was a
+lady whose name I do not think fit to mention, tho there is nothing in
+the story but what tends very much to her honor. This lady lived
+several years an exemplary pattern of conjugal love, and, dying soon
+after her husband, who every way answered her character in virtue and
+affection, made it her death-bed request, "that all the letters which
+she had received from him, both before and after her marriage, should
+be buried in the coffin with her." These, I found upon examination,
+were the papers before us. Several of them had suffered so much by
+time that I could only pick out a few words; as my soul! lilies!
+roses! dearest angel! and the like. One of them, which was legible
+throughout, ran thus:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Madam</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>If you would know the greatness of my love, consider that of your own
+beauty. That blooming countenance, that snowy bosom, that graceful
+person, return every moment to my imagination; the brightness of your
+eyes hath hindered me from closing mine since I last saw you. You may
+still add to your beauties by a smile. A frown will make me the most
+wretched of men, as I am the most passionate of lovers.</p>
+
+<p>It filled the whole company with a deep melancholy, to compare the
+description of the letter with the person that occasioned it, who was
+now reduced to a few crumbling bones, and a little moldering heap of
+earth. With much ado I deciphered another letter which began with, "My
+dear, dear wife." This gave me a curiosity to see how the style of one
+written in marriage differed from one written in courtship. To my
+surprize, I found the fondness rather augmented than lessened, tho the
+panegyric turned upon a different accomplishment. The words were as
+follows:</p>
+
+<p>Before this short absence from you, I did not know that I loved you so
+much as I really do; tho, at the same time, I thought I loved you as
+much as possible. I am under great apprehension lest you should have
+any uneasiness whilst I am defrauded of my share in it, and can not
+think of tasting any pleasures that you do not partake with me. Pray,
+my dear, be careful of your health, if for no other reason but because
+you know I could not outlive you. It is natural in absence to make
+professions of an inviolable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> constancy; but toward so much merit it
+is scarce a virtue, especially when it is but a bare return to that of
+which you have given me such continued proofs ever since our first
+acquaintance. I am, etc.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that the daughter of these two excellent persons was by
+when I was reading this letter. At the sight of the coffin, in which
+was the body of her mother, near that of her father, she melted into a
+flood of tears. As I had heard a great character of her virtue, and
+observed in her this instance of filial piety, I could not resist my
+natural inclination, of giving advice to young people, and therefore
+addrest myself to her. "Young lady," said I, "you see how short is the
+possession of that beauty, in which nature has been so liberal to you.
+You find the melancholy sight before you is a contradiction to the
+first letter that you heard on that subject; whereas, you may observe
+the second letter, which celebrates your mother's constancy, is
+itself, being found in this place, an argument of it. But, madam, I
+ought to caution you not to think the bodies that lie before you your
+father and your mother. Know their constancy is rewarded by a nobler
+union than by this mingling of their ashes, in a state where there is
+no danger or possibility of a second separation."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> From the Guardian.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> From the Spectator.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> From the Spectator.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> From the Tatler.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> From the Tatler.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="LORD_BOLINGBROKE" id="LORD_BOLINGBROKE"></a>LORD BOLINGBROKE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1678, died in 1751; his name, before he was a peer,
+Henry St. John; entered Parliament in 1701, acting with the
+Tories; Secretary of War in 1704-08; Secretary of State in
+1710-14; created Viscount Bolingbroke in 1714; opposed the
+accession of the House of Hanover, and on the death of Queen
+Anne in 1714, fled to France, entering the service of the
+Pretender, by whom he was soon dismissed and then returned
+to England; a friend of Pope and Swift, Pope's "Essay on
+Man" being addrest to him.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_1" id="I_1"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF THE SHORTNESS OF HUMAN LIFE</h2>
+
+
+<p>I think very differently from most men of the time we have to pass,
+and the business we have to do, in this world. I think we have more of
+one, and less of the other, than is commonly supposed. Our want of
+time, and the shortness of human life, are some of the principal
+commonplace complaints which we prefer against the established order
+of things; they are the grumblings of the vulgar, and the pathetic
+lamentations of the philosopher; but they are impertinent and impious
+in both. The man of business despises the man of pleasure for
+squandering his time away; the man of pleasure pities or laughs at the
+man of business for the same thing; and yet both concur superciliously
+and absurdly to find fault with the Supreme Being for having given
+them so little time. The philosopher, who misspends it very often as
+much as the others,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> joins in the same cry, and authorizes this
+impiety. Theophrastus thought it extremely hard to die at ninety, and
+to go out of the world when he had just learned how to live in it. His
+master Aristotle found fault with nature for treating man in this
+respect worse than several other animals; both very unphilosophically!
+and I love Seneca the better for his quarrel with the Stagirite<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> on
+this head.</p>
+
+<p>We see, in so many instances, a just proportion of things, according
+to their several relations to one another, that philosophy should lead
+as to conclude this proportion preserved, even where we can not
+discern it; instead of leading us to conclude that it is not preserved
+where we do not discern it, or where we think that we see the
+contrary. To conclude otherwise is shocking presumption. It is to
+presume that the system of the universe would have been more wisely
+contrived, if creatures of our low rank among intellectual natures had
+been called to the councils of the Most High; or that the Creator
+ought to mend His work by the advice of the creature. That life which
+seems to our self-love so short, when we compare it with the ideas we
+frame of eternity, or even with the duration of some other beings,
+will appear sufficient, upon a less partial view, to all the ends of
+the creation, and of a just proportion in the successive course of
+generations. The term itself is long; we render it short; and the want
+we complain of flows from our profusion, not from our poverty.</p>
+
+<p>Let us leave the men of pleasure and of business, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>who are often
+candid enough to own that they throw away their time, and thereby to
+confess that they complain of the Supreme Being for no other reason
+than this, that He has not proportioned His bounty to their
+extravagance. Let us consider the scholar and philosopher, who, far
+from owning that he throws any time away, reproves others for doing
+it; that solemn mortal who abstains from the pleasures, and declines
+the business of the world, that he may dedicate his whole time to the
+search of truth and the improvement of knowledge. When such a one
+complains of the shortness of human life in general, or of his
+remaining share in particular, might not a man more reasonable, tho
+less solemn, expostulate thus with him: "Your complaint is indeed
+consistent with your practise; but you would not possibly renew your
+complaint if you reviewed your practise. Tho reading makes a scholar,
+yet every scholar is not a philosopher, nor every philosopher a wise
+man. It cost you twenty years to devour all the volumes on one side of
+your library; you came out a great critic in Latin and Greek, in the
+Oriental tongues, in history and chronology; but you were not
+satisfied. You confest that these were the <i>liter&aelig; nihil sanantes</i>,
+and you wanted more time to acquire other knowledge. You have had this
+time; you have passed twenty years more on the other side of your
+library, among philosophers, rabbis, commentators, school-men, and
+whole legions of modern doctors. You are extremely well versed in all
+that has been written concerning the nature of God, and of the soul of
+man, about matter and form, body<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> and spirit, and space and eternal
+essences, and incorporeal substances, and the rest of those profound
+speculations. You are a master of the controversies that have arisen
+about nature and grace, about predestination and freewill, and all the
+other abstruse questions that have made so much noise in the schools,
+and done so much hurt in the world. You are going on, as fast as the
+infirmities you have contracted will permit, in the same course of
+study; but you begin to foresee that you shall want time, and you make
+grievous complaints of the shortness of human life. Give me leave now
+to ask you how many thousand years God must prolong your life in order
+to reconcile you to His wisdom and goodness?</p>
+
+<p>"It is plain, at least highly probable, that a life as long as that of
+the most aged of the patriarchs would be too short to answer your
+purposes; since the researches and disputes in which you are engaged
+have been already for a much longer time the objects of learned
+inquiries, and remain still as imperfect and undetermined as they were
+at first. But let me ask you again, and deceive neither yourself nor
+me, have you, in the course of these forty years, once examined the
+first principles and the fundamental facts on which all those
+questions depend, with an absolute indifference of judgment, and with
+a scrupulous exactness? with the same care that you have employed in
+examining the various consequences drawn from them, and the heterodox
+opinions about them? Have you not taken them for granted in the whole
+course of your studies? Or, if you have looked now and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> on the
+state of the proofs brought to maintain them, have you not done it as
+a mathematician looks over a demonstration formerly made&mdash;to refresh
+his memory, not to satisfy any doubt? If you have thus examined, it
+may appear marvelous to some that you have spent so much time in many
+parts of those studies which have reduced you to this hectic condition
+of so much heat and weakness. But if you have not thus examined, it
+must be evident to all, nay, to yourself on the least cool reflection,
+that you are still, notwithstanding all your learning, in a state of
+ignorance. For knowledge can alone produce knowledge; and without such
+an examination of axioms and facts, you can have none about
+inferences."</p>
+
+<p>In this manner one might expostulate very reasonably with many a great
+scholar, many a profound philosopher, many a dogmatical casuist. And
+it serves to set the complaints about want of time, and the shortness
+of human life, in a very ridiculous but a true light.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_1" id="II_1"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>RULES FOR THE STUDY OF HISTORY<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have considered formerly, with a good deal of attention, the subject
+on which you command me to communicate my thoughts to you; and I
+practised in those days, as much as business and pleasure allowed me
+time to do, the rules <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>that seemed to me necessary to be observed in
+the study of history. They were very different from those which
+writers on the same subject have recommended, and which are commonly
+practised. But I confess to your lordship that this neither gave me
+then, nor has given me since, any distrust of them. I do not affect
+singularity. On the contrary, I think that a due deference is to be
+paid to received opinions, and that a due compliance with received
+customs is to be held; tho both the one and the other should be, what
+they often are, absurd or ridiculous. But this servitude is outward
+only, and abridges in no sort the liberty of private judgment. The
+obligations of submitting to it likewise, even outwardly, extend no
+further than to those opinions and customs which can not be opposed;
+or from which we can not deviate without doing hurt, or giving
+offense, to society. In all these cases, our speculations ought to be
+free; in all other cases, our practise may be so. Without any regard,
+therefore, to the opinion and practise even of the learned world, I am
+very willing to tell you mine. But as it is hard to recover a thread
+of thought long ago laid aside, and impossible to prove some things
+and explain others, without the assistance of many books which I have
+not here, your lordship must be content with such an imperfect sketch
+as I am able to send you in this letter.</p>
+
+<p>The motives that carry men to the study of history are different. Some
+intend, if such as they may be said to study, nothing more than
+amusement, and read the life of Aristides or Phocion, of Epaminondas
+or Scipio, Alexander<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> or C&aelig;sar, just as they play a game at cards, or
+as they would read the story of the seven champions.</p>
+
+<p>Others there are whose motive to this study is nothing better, and who
+have the further disadvantage of becoming a nuisance very often to
+society, in proportion to the progress they make. The former do not
+improve their reading to any good purpose; the latter pervert it to a
+very bad one, and grow in impertinence as they increase in learning. I
+think I have known most of the first kind in England, and most of the
+last in France. The persons I mean are those who read to talk, to
+shine in conversation, and to impose in company; who, having few ideas
+to vend of their own growth, store their minds with crude unruminated
+facts and sentences, and hope to supply by bare memory the want of
+imagination and judgment.</p>
+
+<p>But these are in the two lowest forms. The next I shall mention are in
+one a little higher; in the form of those who grow neither wiser nor
+better by study themselves, but who enable others to study with
+greater ease, and to purposes more useful; who make fair copies of
+foul manuscripts, give the signification of hard words, and take a
+great deal of other grammatical pains. The obligation to these men
+would be great indeed, if they were in general able to do anything
+better, and submitted to this drudgery for the sake of the public; as
+some of them, it must be owned with gratitude, have done, but not
+later, I think, than about the time of the resurrection of letters.
+When works of importance are pressing, generals themselves may take
+up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> the pickax and the spade; but in the ordinary course of things,
+when that pressing necessity is over, such tools are left in the hands
+destined to use them, the hands of common soldiers and peasants. I
+approve, therefore, very much the devotion of a studious man at Christ
+Church, who was overheard in his oratory entering into a detail with
+God, acknowledging the divine goodness in furnishing the world with
+makers of dictionaries! These men court fame, as well as their
+letters, by such means as God has given them to acquire it; and
+Littleton exerted all the genius he had when he made a dictionary, tho
+Stephens did not. They deserve encouragement, however, while they
+continue to compile, and neither affect wit, nor presume to reason.</p>
+
+<p>There is a fourth class, of much less use than these, but of much
+greater name. Men of the first rank in learning, and to whom the whole
+tribe of scholars bow with reverence. A man must be as indifferent as
+I am to common censure or approbation, to avow a thorough contempt for
+the whole business of these learned lives; for all the researches into
+antiquity, for all the systems of chronology and history, that we owe
+to the immense labors of a Scaliger, a Bochart, a Petavius, an Usher,
+and even a Marsham. The same materials are common to them all; but
+these materials are few, and there is a moral impossibility that they
+should ever have more. They have combined these into every form that
+can be given to them; they have supposed, they have guessed, they have
+joined disjointed passages of different authors, and broken traditions
+of uncertain originals, of various people,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> and of centuries remote
+from one another as well as from ours. In short, that they might leave
+no liberty untaken, even a wild fantastical similitude of sounds has
+served to prop up a system. As the materials they have are few, so are
+the very best and such as pass for authentic extremely precarious, as
+learned persons themselves confess.</p>
+
+<p>Julius Africanus, Eusebius, and George the Monk opened the principal
+sources of all this science; but they corrupted the waters. Their
+point of view was to make profane history and chronology agree with
+sacred. For this purpose, the ancient monuments that these writers
+conveyed to posterity were digested by them according to the system
+they were to maintain; and none of these monuments were delivered down
+in their original form and genuine purity. The dynasties of Manetho,
+for instance, are broken to pieces by Eusebius, and such fragments of
+them as suited his design are stuck into his work. We have, we know,
+no more of them. The "Codex Alexandrinus" we owe to George the Monk.
+We have no other authority for it; and one can not see without
+amazement such a man as Sir John Marsham undervaluing this authority
+in one page, and building his system upon it in the next. He seems
+even by the lightness of his expressions, if I remember well, for it
+is long since I looked into his canon, not to be much concerned what
+foundation his system had, so he showed his skill in forming one, and
+in reducing the immense antiquity of the Egyptians within the limits
+of the Hebraic calculation.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A name under which Aristotle was sometimes known, from
+his birthplace Stag.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> One of the "Letters on the Study of History."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ALEXANDER_POPE" id="ALEXANDER_POPE"></a>ALEXANDER POPE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born to London in 1688, died in 1744; his father a linen
+draper, converted to the Catholic faith; not regularly
+educated, owing to his frail and sickly body; began to write
+in boyhood, and before he was seventeen had met the leading
+literary men of London; his "Essay on Criticism," published
+in 1711, translation of Homer in 1720 and 1725, "Essay on
+Man," in 1732-34.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_2" id="I_2"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>AN ANCIENT ENGLISH COUNTRY SEAT<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>'Tis not possible to express the least part of the joy your return
+gives me; time only and experience will convince you how very sincere
+it is. I excessively long to meet you, to say so much, so very much to
+you, that I believe I shall say nothing. I have given orders to be
+sent for the first minute of your arrival&mdash;which I beg you will let
+them know at Mr. Jervas's. I am four-score <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>miles from London, a short
+journey compared to that I so often thought at least of undertaking,
+rather than die without seeing you again. Tho the place I am in is
+such as I would not quit for the town, if I did not value you more
+than any, nay everybody else there; and you will be convinced how
+little the town has engaged my affections in your absence from it,
+when you know what a place this is which I prefer to it; I shall
+therefore describe it to you at large, as the true picture of a
+genuine ancient country-seat.</p>
+
+<p>You must expect nothing regular in my description of a house that
+seems to be built before rules were in fashion: the whole is so
+disjointed, and the parts so detached from each other, and yet so
+joining again, one can not tell how, that&mdash;in a poetical fit&mdash;you
+would imagine it had been a village in Amphion's time, where twenty
+cottages had taken a dance together, were all out, and stood still in
+amazement ever since. A stranger would be grievously disappointed who
+should ever think to get into this house the right way. One would
+expect, after entering through the porch, to be let into the hall;
+alas! nothing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>less, you find yourself in a brew-house. From the
+parlor you think to step into the drawing-room; but, upon opening the
+iron-nailed door, you are convinced, by a flight of birds about your
+ears, and a cloud of dust in your eyes, that it is the pigeon-house.
+On each side our porch are two chimneys, that wear their greens on the
+outside, which would do as well within, for whenever we make a fire,
+we let the smoke out of the windows. Over the parlor window hangs a
+sloping balcony, which, time has turned to a very convenient
+penthouse. The top is crowned with a very venerable tower, so like
+that of the church just by, that the jackdaws build in it as if it
+were the true steeple.</p>
+
+<p>The great hall is high and spacious, flanked with long tables, images
+of ancient hospitality; ornamented with monstrous horns, about twenty
+broken pikes, and a matchlock musket or two, which they say were used
+in the civil wars. Here is one vast arched window, beautifully
+darkened with divers scutcheons of painted glass. There seems to be
+great propriety in this old manner of blazoning upon glass, ancient
+families being like ancient windows, in the course of generations
+seldom free from cracks. One shining pane bears date 1286. The
+youthful face of Dame Elinor owes more to this single piece than to
+all the glasses she ever consulted in her life. Who can say after this
+that glass is frail, when it is not half so perishable as human beauty
+or glory? For in another pane you see the memory of a knight
+preserved, whose marble nose is moldered from his monument in the
+church adjoining. And yet, must not one sigh to reflect, that the
+most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> authentic record of so ancient a family should lie at the mercy
+of every boy that throws a stone? In this hall, in former days, have
+dined gartered knights and courtly dames, with ushers, sewers, and
+seneschals; and yet it was but the other night that an owl flew in
+hither, and mistook it for a barn.</p>
+
+<p>This hall lets you up (and down) over a very high threshold, into the
+parlor. It is furnished with historical tapestry, whose marginal
+fringes do confess the moisture of the air. The other contents of this
+room are a broken-bellied virginal, a couple of crippled velvet
+chairs, with two or three mildewed pictures of moldy ancestors, who
+look as dismally as if they came fresh from hell with all their
+brimstone about 'em. These are carefully set at the further corner:
+for the windows being everywhere broken, make it so convenient a place
+to dry poppies and mustard-seed in, that the room is appropriated to
+that use.</p>
+
+<p>Next this parlor lies, as I said before, the pigeon-house, by the side
+of which runs an entry that leads, on one hand and t'other, into a
+bed-chamber, a buttery, and a small hole called the chaplain's study.
+Then follow a brew-house, a little green and gilt parlor, and the
+great stairs, under which is the dairy. A little further on the right,
+the servants' hall; and by the side of it, up six steps, the old
+lady's closet, which has a lattice into the said hall, that, while she
+said her prayers, she might cast an eye on the men and maids. There
+are upon this ground floor in all twenty-four apartments, hard to be
+distinguished by particular names; among which I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> must not forget a
+chamber that has in it a large antiquity of timber, which seems to
+have been either a bedstead or a cider-press.</p>
+
+<p>Our best room above is very long and low, of the exact proportion of a
+bandbox; it has hangings of the finest work in the world; those, I
+mean, which Arachne spins out of her own bowels: indeed, the roof is
+so decayed, that after a favorable shower of rain, we may, with God's
+blessing, expect a crop of mushrooms between the chinks of the floors.</p>
+
+<p>All this upper story has for many years had no other inhabitants than
+certain rats, whose very age renders them worthy of this venerable
+mansion, for the very rats of this ancient seat are gray. Since these
+have not quitted it, we hope at least this house may stand during the
+small remainder of days these poor animals have to live, who are now
+too infirm to remove to another: they have still a small subsistence
+left them in the few remaining books of the library.</p>
+
+<p>I had never seen half what I have described, but for an old starched
+gray-headed steward, who is as much an antiquity as any in the place,
+and looks like an old family picture walked out of its frame. He
+failed not, as we passed from room to room, to relate several memoirs
+of the family; but his observations were particularly curious in the
+cellar: he shewed where stood the triple rows of butts of sack, and
+where were ranged the bottles of tent for toasts in the morning; he
+pointed to the stands that supported the iron-hooped hogsheads of
+strong beer; then stepping to a corner, he lugged out the tattered
+fragment of an unframed picture: "This," says he, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> tears in his
+eyes, "was poor Sir Thomas, once master of all the drink I told you
+of: he had two sons (poor young masters!) that never arrived to the
+age of his beer; they both fell ill in this very cellar, and never
+went out upon their own legs." He could not pass by a broken bottle
+without taking it up to show us the arms of the family on it. He then
+led me up the tower, by dark winding stone steps, which landed us into
+several little rooms, one above the other; one of these was nailed up,
+and my guide whispered to me the occasion of it. It seems the course
+of this noble blood was a little interrupted about two centuries ago
+by a freak of the Lady Frances, who was here taken with a neighboring
+prior; ever since which the room has been nailed up, and branded with
+the name of the adultery-chamber. The ghost of Lady Frances is
+supposed to walk here: some prying maids of the family formerly
+reported that they saw a lady in a farthingale through the keyhole;
+but this matter was hushed up, and the servants forbid to talk of it.</p>
+
+<p>I must needs have tired you with this long letter; but what engaged me
+in the description was a generous principle to preserve the memory of
+a thing that must itself soon fall to ruin; nay, perhaps, some part of
+it before this reaches your hands: indeed, I owe this old house the
+same sort of gratitude that we do to an old friend that harbors us in
+his declining condition, nay, even in his last extremities. I have
+found this an excellent place for retirement and study, where no one
+who passes by can dream there is an inhabitant, and even anybody that
+would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> visit me dares not venture under my roof. You will not wonder I
+have translated a great deal of Homer in this retreat; any one that
+sees it will own I could not have chosen a fitter or more likely place
+to converse with the dead. As soon as I return to the living, it shall
+be to converse with the best of them. I hope, therefore, very speedily
+to tell you in person how sincerely and unalterably I am, madam, your
+most faithful, obliged, and obedient servant.</p>
+
+<p>I beg Mr. Wortley to believe me his most humble servant.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_2" id="II_2"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>HIS COMPLIMENTS TO LADY MARY<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have been (what I never was till now) in debt to you for a letter
+some weeks. I was informed you were at sea, and that 'twas to no
+purpose to write till some news had been heard of you somewhere or
+other. Besides, I have had a second dangerous illness, from which I
+was more diligent to be recovered than from the first, having now some
+hopes of seeing you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>again. If you make any tour in Italy, I shall not
+easily forgive you for not acquainting me soon enough to have met you
+there. I am very certain I shall never be polite unless I travel with
+you, and it is never to be repaired, the loss that Homer has sustained
+for want of my translating him in Asia.</p>
+
+<p>You will come here full of criticisms against a man who wanted nothing
+to be in the right, but to have kept you company; you have no way of
+making me amends but by continuing an Asiatic when you return to me,
+whatever English airs you may put on to other people. I prodigiously
+long for your sounds, your remarks, your Oriental learning; but I long
+for nothing so much as your Oriental self. You must of necessity be
+advanced so far back in true nature and simplicity of manners, by
+these three years' residence in the East, that I shall look upon you
+as so many years younger than you was, so much nearer innocence (that
+is truth) and infancy (that is openness). I expect to see your soul as
+much thinner drest than your body, and that you have left off as weary
+and cumbersome a great many damned European habits. Without offense to
+your modesty be it spoken, I have a burning desire to see your soul
+stark naked, for I am confident it is the prettiest kind of white soul
+in the universe. But I forget whom I am talking to; you may possibly
+by this time believe according to the Prophet, that you have none; if
+so, show me that which comes next to a soul, you may easily put it
+upon a poor ignorant Christian for a soul and please him as well with
+it&mdash;I mean your heart&mdash;Mohammed I think allows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> you hearts; which
+(together with fine eyes and other agreeable equivalents) are with all
+the souls on the other side of the world.</p>
+
+<p>But if I must be content with seeing your body only, God send it come
+quickly. I honor it more than the diamond casket that held Homer's
+Iliads; for in the very twinkle of one eye of it there is more wit,
+and in the very dimple of one cheek of it there is more meaning, than
+all the souls that were carefully put into woman since God had the
+making of them.</p>
+
+<p>I have a mind to fill the rest of this paper with an accident that has
+happened just under my eyes, and has made a great impression on me. I
+have just passed part of the summer at an old romantic seat of my Lord
+Harcourt's which he lent me. It overlooks a commonfield, where, under
+the shade of the haycock, sat two lovers as constant as ever were
+found in romance, beneath a spreading beech. The name of the one (let
+it sound as it will) was John Hewet; of the other, Sarah Drew. John
+was a well-set man of about five and twenty, Sarah a brown woman of
+eighteen. John had for several months borne the labor of the day in
+the same field with Sarah; when she milked it was his morning and
+evening charge to bring the cows to her pail.</p>
+
+<p>Their love was the talk, but not the scandal, of the whole
+neighborhood; for all they aimed at was the blameless possession of
+each other in marriage. It was but this very morning that he had
+obtained her parent's consent, and it was but till the next week that
+they were to wait to be happy. Perhaps this very day, in the interval
+of their work, they were talking about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> their wedding clothes, and
+John was now matching several kinds of poppies and field flowers to
+her complexion to make her a present of knots for the day.</p>
+
+<p>While they are thus employed (it was in the last of July) a terrible
+storm of thunder and lightning arose, that drove the laborers to what
+shelter the trees or hedge afforded. Sarah, frightened and out of
+breath, sunk on a haycock, and John (who was never separated from her)
+sate by her side, having raked two or three heaps together to secure
+her. Immediately there was heard so loud a crash as if heaven were
+burst asunder. The laborers, all solicitous for each other's safety,
+called to one another. Those that were nearest our lovers, hearing no
+answer, stept to the place where they lay; they first saw a little
+smoke and after this the faithful pair&mdash;John with one arm about his
+Sarah's neck, and the other held over her face as if to screen her
+from the lightning. They were struck dead and already grown stiff and
+cold in this tender posture. There was no mark or discoloring on their
+bodies, only that Sarah's eyebrow was a little singed and a small spot
+between her breasts. They were buried the next day in one grave, in
+the parish of Stanton Harcourt, in Oxfordshire; where my lord
+Harcourt, at my request, has erected a monument over them....</p>
+
+<p>Upon the whole, I can't think these people unhappy. The greatest
+happiness, next to living as they would have done, was to die as they
+did. The greatest honor people of their low degree could have was to
+be remembered on a little monument; unless you will give them
+another&mdash;that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> of being honored with a tear from the finest eyes in
+the world. I know you have tenderness; you must have it; it is the
+very emanation of good sense and virtue; the finest minds like the
+finest metals dissolve the easiest.</p>
+
+<p>But when you are reflecting upon objects of pity, pray do not forget
+one, who had no sooner found out an object of the highest esteem than
+he was separated from it; and who is so very unhappy as not to be
+susceptible of consolation from others, by being so miserable in the
+right as to think other women what they really are. Such a one can't
+but be desperately fond of any creature that is quite different from
+these. If the Circassian be utterly void of such honor as these have,
+and such virtue as these boast of, I am content. I have detested the
+sound of honest woman, and loving spouse, ever since I heard the
+pretty name of Odaliche.</p>
+
+<p>Dear Madam, I am forever yours,</p>
+
+<p>My most humble services to Mr. Wortley.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> Pray let me hear from you
+soon, tho I shall very soon write again. I am confident half our
+letters are lost.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III_1" id="III_1"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>HOW TO MAKE AN EPIC POEM<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>It is no small pleasure to me, who am zealous in the interests of
+learning, to think I may have the honor of leading the town into a
+very new and uncommon road of criticism. As that kind of literature is
+at present carried on, it consists only in a knowledge of mechanic
+rules which contribute to the structure of different sorts of poetry,
+as the receipts of good housewives do to the making puddings of flour,
+oranges, plums, or any other ingredients. It would, methinks, make
+these my instructions more easily intelligible to ordinary readers, if
+I discoursed of these matters in the style in which ladies learned in
+economics dictate to their pupils for the improvement of the kitchen
+and larder.</p>
+
+<p>I shall begin with epic poetry, because the critics agree it is the
+greatest work human nature is capable of. I know the French have
+already laid down many mechanical rules for compositions of this sort,
+but at the same time they cut off almost all undertakers from the
+possibility of ever performing them; for the first qualification they
+unanimously require in a poet is a genius. I shall here endeavor (for
+the benefit of my countrymen) to make it manifest that epic poems may
+be made "without a genius," nay, without learning, or much reading.
+This must necessarily be of great use to all those poets who confess
+they never read, and of whom <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>the world is convinced they never learn.
+What Moli&egrave;re observes of making a dinner, that any man can do it with
+money, and if a profest cook can not without, he has his art for
+nothing, the same may be said of making a poem&mdash;it is easily brought
+about by him that has a genius, but the skill lies in doing it without
+one. In pursuance of this end, I shall present the reader with a plain
+and certain receipt, by which even sonneteers and ladies may be
+qualified for this grand performance.</p>
+
+<p>I know it will be objected that one of the chief qualifications of an
+epic poet is to be knowing in all arts and sciences. But this ought
+not to discourage those that have no learning, as long as indexes and
+dictionaries may be had, which are the compendium of all knowledge.
+Besides, since it is an established rule that none of the terms of
+those arts and sciences are to be made use of, one may venture to
+affirm our poet can not impertinently offend in this point. The
+learning which will be more particularly necessary to him is the
+ancient geography of towns, mountains, and rivers; for this let him
+take Culverius, value fourpence.</p>
+
+<p>Another quality required is a complete skill in languages. To this I
+answer that it is notorious persons of no genius have been oftentimes
+great linguists. To instance in the Greek, of which there are two
+sorts; the original Greek, and that from which our modern authors
+translate. I should be unwilling to promise impossibilities; but
+modestly speaking, this may be learned in about an hour's time with
+ease. I have known one who became a sudden professor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> of Greek
+immediately upon application of the left-hand page of the Cambridge
+Homer to his eye. It is in these days with authors as with other men,
+the well bred are familiarly acquainted with, them at first sight; and
+as it is sufficient for a good general to have surveyed the ground he
+is to conquer, so it is enough for a good poet to have seen the author
+he is to be master of. But to proceed to the purpose of this paper.</p>
+
+<p>For the Fable.&mdash;Take out of any old poem, history book, romance or
+legend (for instance, Geoffrey of Monmouth, or Don Belianis of
+Greece<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>), those parts of story which afford most scope for long
+descriptions. Put these pieces together, and throw all the adventures
+you fancy into one tale. Then take a hero you may choose for the sound
+of his name, and put him into the midst of these adventures. There let
+him work for twelve books; at the end of which you may take him out
+ready prepared to conquer, or to marry; it being necessary that the
+conclusion of an epic poem be fortunate.</p>
+
+<p>To Make an Episode.&mdash;Take any remaining adventure of your former
+collection, in which you could no way involve your hero; or any
+unfortunate accident that was too good to be thrown away; and it will
+be of use applied to any other person, who may be lost and evaporate
+in the course of the work, without the least damage to the
+composition.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
+<p>For the Moral and Allegory.&mdash;These you may extract out of the fable
+afterward, at your leisure. Be sure you strain them sufficiently.</p>
+
+<p>For the Manners.&mdash;For those of the hero, take all the best qualities
+you can find in all the celebrated heroes of antiquity; if they will
+not be reduced to a consistency, lay them all in a heap upon him. But
+be sure they are qualities which your patron would be thought to have;
+and, to prevent any mistake which the world may be subject to, select
+from the alphabet those capital letters that compose his name, and set
+them at the head of a dedication before your poem. However, do not
+absolutely observe the exact quantity of these virtues, it not being
+determined whether or no it be necessary for the hero of a poem to be
+an honest man. For the under characters, gather them from Homer and
+Virgil, and change the names as occasion serves.</p>
+
+<p>For the Machines.&mdash;Take of deities, male and female, as many as you
+can use. Separate them into two equal parts, and keep Jupiter in the
+middle. Let Juno put him in a ferment, and Venus mollify him. Remember
+on all occasions to make use of volatile Mercury. If you have need of
+devils, draw them out of Milton's Paradise, and extract your spirits
+from Tasso. The use of these machines is evident; for since no epic
+poem can possibly subsist without them, the wisest way is to reserve
+them for your greatest necessities. When you can not extricate your
+hero by any human means, or yourself by your own wits, seek relief
+from heaven, and the gods will do your business very readily. This is
+ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>cording to the direct prescription of Horace in his "Art of
+Poetry," verse 191:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Never presume to make a god appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for a business worthy of a god.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>That is to say, a poet should never call upon the gods for their
+assistance but when he is in great perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>For a Tempest.&mdash;Take Eurus, Zephyr, Auster, and Boreas, and cast them
+together in one verse. Add to these of rain, lightning, and of thunder
+(the loudest you can) <i>quantum sufficit</i>. Mix your clouds and billows
+well together until they foam, and thicken your description here and
+there with a quicksand. Brew your tempest well in your head, before
+you set it a-blowing.</p>
+
+<p>For a Battle.&mdash;Pick a large quantity of images and descriptions from
+Homer's "Iliad," with a spice or two of Virgil, and if there remain
+any overplus you may lay them by for a skirmish. Season it well with
+similes, and it will make an excellent battle.</p>
+
+<p>For Burning a Town.&mdash;If such a description be necessary, because it is
+certain there is one in Virgil, Old Troy is ready burned to your
+hands. But if you fear that would be thought borrowed, a chapter or
+two of the Theory of the Conflagration, well circumstanced, and done
+into verse, will be a good succedaneum.</p>
+
+<p>As for Similes and Metaphors, they may be found all over the creation;
+the most ignorant may gather them, but the danger is in applying them.
+For this advise with your bookseller.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>
+<p>For the Language (I mean the diction).&mdash;Here it will do well to be an
+imitator of Milton, for you will find it easier to imitate him in this
+than anything else. Hebraisms and Grecisms are to be found in him,
+without the trouble of learning the languages. I knew a painter, who
+(like our poet) had no genius, make his daubings to be thought
+originals by setting them in the smoke. You may in the same manner
+give the venerable air of antiquity to your piece by darkening it up
+and down with old English. With this you may be easily furnished upon
+any occasion by the dictionary commonly printed at the end of Chaucer.</p>
+
+<p>I must not conclude without cautioning all writers without genius in
+one material point, which is, never to be afraid of having too much
+fire in their works. I should advise rather to take their warmest
+thoughts, and spread them abroad upon paper; for they are observed to
+cool before they are read.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> A letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. The mansion here
+described is Stanton Harcourt, near the hamlet of Cokethorpe in
+Oxfordshire. Here the Harcourts had lived since the twelfth century.
+At the date of Pope's letter, it was the seat of Simon Harcourt, first
+viscount, but Simon's father, Sir Philip Harcourt, for many years was
+the last of the family actually to live there, his widow afterward
+permitting the buildings to fall into the state of decay which Pope
+describes. In the tower is an upper chamber over the chapel which
+still bears the name of "Pope's Study." It was there, in 1718, that
+Pope finished the fifth volume of his translation of Homer. Simon, the
+first viscount, had taken up his residence at Stanton Harcourt a short
+time before the date of Pope's letter&mdash;that is, about 1715. He
+frequently had as guests Pope, Swift, Gay and Prior, being himself
+fond of literary pursuits. Twelve letters written to him by Pope have
+been preserved among the family papers. Pope, in his letter to Lady
+Mary, of September 1, 1718, which here follows the one beginning on
+the previous page, in referring to the mansion uses the words, "which
+he lent me," indicating that Pope was occupying the mansion at the
+invitation of Lord Harcourt. Swift and Harcourt sometimes quarreled
+over political matters, in which Harcourt was prominent. On one
+occasion Swift called him "Trimming Harcourt."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> A letter dated September 1, 1718, and addrest to Lady
+Mary Wortley Montagu, who was then living in Turkey. Pope and she
+afterward (about 1722) quarreled bitterly. Leslie Stephen, discussing
+the matter, says "the extreme bitterness with which Pope ever
+afterward assailed her can be explained most plausibly, and least to
+his discredit, upon the assumption that his extravagant expressions of
+gallantry covered some real passion." If this be a true inference, his
+passion "was probably converted into antipathy by the contempt with
+which she received his declaration."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, the name Montagu
+having been added for reasons connected with a family estate.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> From the Guardian.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> "Belianis of Greece" was a continuation of the romance
+"Amadis of Gaul," which was published in Spanish in 1547, and
+translated into English in 1598. The author was Jeronimo Fernandez.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The translation is by Roscommon.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="LADY_MARY_WORTLEY_MONTAGU" id="LADY_MARY_WORTLEY_MONTAGU"></a>LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Baptized in 1689, died in 1762; eldest daughter of the Duke
+of Kingston; married Edward Wortley Montagu, grandson of the
+Earl of Sandwich, in 1712; her husband sent to Turkey as
+ambassador in 1716; she was a close friend of Pope, but
+afterward quarreled with him; in 1739 left England, settling
+in Venice, where she remained until 1762; her "Letters"
+published in 1763, with further instalments in 1767 and
+later years.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_3" id="I_3"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>ON HAPPINESS IN THE MATRIMONIAL STATE<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I received both your Monday letters before I wrote the inclosed,
+which, however, I send you. The kind letter was written and sent
+Friday morning, and I did not receive yours till Saturday noon. To
+speak truth, you would never have had it else; there were so many
+things in yours to put me out of humor. Thus, you see, it was on no
+design to repair anything that offended you. You only show me how
+industrious you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>are to find faults in me: why will you not suffer me
+to be pleased with you?</p>
+
+<p>I would see you if I could (tho perhaps it may be wrong); but in the
+way that I am here, 'tis impossible. I can't come to town but in
+company with my sister-in-law: I can carry her nowhere but where she
+pleases; or if I could, I would trust her with nothing. I could not
+walk out alone without giving suspicion to the whole family; should I
+be watched, and seen to meet a man&mdash;judge of the consequences!</p>
+
+<p>You speak of treating with my father, as if you believed he would come
+to terms afterward. I will not suffer you to remain in the thought,
+however advantageous it might be to me; I will deceive you in nothing.
+I am fully persuaded he will never hear of terms afterward. You may
+say, 'tis talking oddly of him. I can't answer to that; but 'tis my
+real opinion, and I think I know him. You talk to me of estates, as if
+I was the most interested woman in the world. Whatever faults I may
+have shown in my life, I know not one action in it that ever proved me
+mercenary. I think there can not be a greater proof to the contrary
+than my treating with you, where I am to depend entirely upon your
+generosity, at the same time that I may have settled on me &pound;500 per
+annum pin-money, and a considerable jointure, in another place; not to
+reckon that I may have by his temper what command of his estate I
+please: and with you I have nothing to pretend to. I do not, however,
+make a merit to you: money is very little to me, because all beyond
+necessaries I do not value that is to be purchased by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> it. If the man
+proposed to me had &pound;10,000 per annum, and I was sure to dispose of it
+all, I should act just as I do. I have in my life known a good deal of
+show, and never found myself the happier for it.</p>
+
+<p>In proposing to you to follow the scheme proposed by that friend, I
+think 'tis absolutely necessary for both our sakes. I would have you
+want no pleasure which a single life would afford you. You own you
+think nothing so agreeable. A woman that adds nothing to a man's
+fortune ought not to take from his happiness. If possible, I would add
+to it; but I will not take from you any satisfaction you could enjoy
+without me. On my own side, I endeavor to form as right a judgment of
+the temper of human nature, and of my own in particular, as I am
+capable of. I would throw off all partiality and passion, and be calm
+in my opinion. Almost all people are apt to run into a mistake, that
+when they once feel or give a passion, there needs nothing to
+entertain it. This mistake makes, in the number of women that inspire
+even violent passions, hardly one preserve one after possession. If we
+marry, our happiness must consist in loving one another; 'tis
+principally my concern to think of the most probable method of making
+that love eternal. You object against living in London: I am not fond
+of it myself, and readily give it up to you; tho I am assured there
+needs more art to keep a fondness alive in solitude, where it
+generally preys upon itself.</p>
+
+<p>There is one article absolutely necessary: to be ever beloved, one
+must ever be agreeable. There is no such thing as being agreeable
+without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> a thorough good-humor, a natural sweetness of temper,
+enlivened by cheerfulness. Whatever natural funds of gaiety one is
+born with, 'tis necessary to be entertained with agreeable objects.
+Anybody capable of tasting pleasure when they confine themselves to
+one place, should take care 'tis the place in the world the most
+agreeable. Whatever you may now think (now, perhaps, you have some
+fondness for me), tho your love should continue in its full force
+there are hours when the most beloved mistress would be troublesome.
+People are not forever (nor is it in human nature that they should be)
+disposed to be fond; you would be glad to find in me the friend and
+the companion. To be agreeably the last, it is necessary to be gay and
+entertaining. A perpetual solitude, in a place where you see nothing
+to raise your spirits, at length wears them out, and conversation
+insensibly becomes dull and insipid. When I have no more to say to
+you, you will like me no longer.</p>
+
+<p>How dreadful is that view! You will reflect for my sake you have
+abandoned the conversation of a friend that you liked, and your
+situation in a country where all things would have contributed to make
+your life pass in (the true <i>volupt&eacute;</i>) a smooth tranquillity. I shall
+lose the vivacity which should entertain you, and you will have
+nothing to recompense you for what you have lost. Very few people that
+have settled entirely in the country, but have grown at length weary
+of one another. The lady's conversation generally falls into a
+thousand impertinent effects of idleness; and the gentleman falls in
+love with his dogs and his horses, and out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> of love with everything
+else. I am not now arguing in favor of the town: you have answered me
+as to that point.</p>
+
+<p>In respect of your health, 'tis the first thing to be considered, and
+I shall never ask you to do anything injurious to that. But 'tis my
+opinion, 'tis necessary, to be happy, that we neither of us think any
+place more agreeable than that where we are. I have nothing to do in
+London; and 'tis indifferent to me if I never see it more. I know not
+how to answer your mentioning gallantry, nor in what sense to
+understand you: whomever I marry, when I am married I renounce all
+things of the kind. I am willing to abandon all conversation but
+yours; I will part with anything for you, but you. I will not have you
+a month, to lose you for the rest of my life. If you can pursue the
+plan of happiness begun with your friend, and take me for that friend,
+I am ever yours. I have examined my own heart whether I can leave
+everything for you; I think I can: if I change my mind, you shall know
+before Sunday; after that I will not change my mind.</p>
+
+<p>If 'tis necessary for your affairs to stay in England, to assist your
+father in his business, as I suppose the time will be short, I would
+be as little injurious to your fortune as I can, and I will do it. But
+I am still of opinion nothing is so likely to make us both happy as
+what I propose. I foresee I may break with you on this point, and I
+shall certainly be displeased with myself for it, and wish a thousand
+times that I had done whatever you pleased; but, however, I hope I
+shall always remember how much more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> miserable than anything else
+would make me, should I be to live with you and to please you no
+longer. You can be pleased with nothing when you are not pleased with
+your wife. One of the "Spectators" is very just that says, "A man
+ought always to be upon his guard against spleen and a too severe
+philosophy; a woman, against levity and coquetry." If we go to Naples,
+I will make no acquaintance there of any kind, and you will be in a
+place where a variety of agreeable objects will dispose you to be ever
+pleased. If such a thing is possible, this will secure our everlasting
+happiness; and I am ready to wait on you without leaving a thought
+behind me.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_3" id="II_3"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>INOCULATION FOR THE SMALLPOX<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make
+you wish yourself here. The smallpox, so fatal and so general amongst
+us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of ingrafting, which
+is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it
+their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of
+September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another
+to know if any of their family has a mind to have the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>smallpox; they
+make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen
+or sixteen together), the old woman comes with a nutshell full of the
+matter of the best sort of smallpox, and asks what vein you please to
+have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer with a large
+needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch), and puts
+into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle,
+and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell;
+and in this manner opens four or five veins.</p>
+
+<p>The Grecians have commonly the superstition of opening one in the
+middle of the forehead, one in each arm, and one in the breast, to
+mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these
+wounds leaving little scars, and is not done by those that are not
+superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of
+the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play
+together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the
+eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds
+two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or
+thirty [spots] in their faces, which never mark; and in eight days'
+time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded,
+there remain running sores during the distemper, which I don't doubt
+is a great relief to it. Every year thousands undergo this operation;
+and the French ambassador says, pleasantly, that they take the
+smallpox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other
+countries. There is no example of any one that has died in it;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> and
+you may believe that I am well satisfied of the safety of this
+experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son.</p>
+
+<p>I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into
+fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to some of our
+doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I
+thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of
+their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too
+beneficial to them, not to expose to all their resentment the hardy
+wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps if I live to
+return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. Upon this
+occasion, admire the heroism in the heart of your friend, etc., etc.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Letter to Edward Wortley Montagu, written before she
+married him. Lady Mary was married to Montagu on August 12, 1712. At
+his first proposal to her, he had been rejected. Lady Mary's father
+insisted that she should marry another man; the settlements for this
+marriage had been drawn and the wedding day fixt, when Lady Mary left
+her father's house and married Montagu privately. Montagu was a man of
+some eminence in public life, but noted for miserly habits. He
+accumulated one of the largest private estates of his time.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Letter to Sarah Criswell, dated Adrianople, Turkey,
+April 1, O. S., 1717. To Lady Mary is usually accorded chief credit
+for the introduction of inoculation into western Europe.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="LORD_CHESTERFIELD" id="LORD_CHESTERFIELD"></a>LORD CHESTERFIELD</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1694, died in 1773; educated at Cambridge; became a
+member of Parliament; filled several places in the
+diplomatic service; became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in
+1734; his "Letters to His Son," published in 1774 after his
+death.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_4" id="I_4"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF GOOD MANNERS, DRESS AND THE WORLD<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>There is a <i>biens&eacute;ance</i> with regard to people of the lowest degree; a
+gentleman observes it with his footman, even with the beggar in the
+street. He considers them as objects of compassion, not of insult; he
+speaks to neither <i>d'un ton brusque</i>, but corrects the one coolly, and
+refuses the other with humanity. There is no one occasion in the
+world, in which <i>le ton brusque</i> is becoming a gentleman. In short,
+<i>les biens&eacute;ances</i> are another word for manners, and extend to every
+part of life. They are propriety; the Graces should attend in order to
+complete them: the Graces enable us to do genteelly and pleasingly
+what <i>les biens&eacute;ances</i> require to be done at all. The latter are an
+obligation upon every <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>man; the former are an infinite advantage and
+ornament to any man.</p>
+
+<p>People unused to the world have babbling countenances, and are
+unskilful enough to show what they have sense enough not to tell. In
+the course of the world, a man must very often put on an easy, frank
+countenance, upon very disagreeable occasions; he must seem pleased,
+when he is very much otherwise; he must be able to accost and receive
+with smiles those whom he would much rather meet with swords. In
+courts he must not turn himself inside out. All this may, nay, must be
+done, without falsehood and treachery: for it must go no further than
+politeness and manners, and must stop short of assurances and
+professions of simulated friendship. Good manners to those one does
+not love are no more a breach of truth than "your humble servant," at
+the bottom of a challenge, is; they are universally agreed upon and
+understood to be things of course. They are necessary guards of the
+decency and peace of society: they must only act defensively; and then
+not with arms poisoned with perfidy. Truth, but not the whole truth,
+must be the invariable principle of every man who hath either
+religion, honor, or prudence.</p>
+
+<p>I can not help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character
+from his dress; and I believe most people do as well as myself. Any
+affectation whatsoever in dress implies in my mind a flaw in the
+understanding.... 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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> 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&mdash;that is, more than they&mdash;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
+drest, the excess on that side will wear off with a little age and
+reflection; but if he is negligent at twenty, he will be a sloven at
+forty and stink at fifty years old. Dress yourself fine where others
+are fine, and plain where others are plain; but take care always that
+your clothes are well made and fit you, for otherwise they will give
+you a very awkward air. When you are once well drest for the day,
+think no more of it afterward; and without any stiffness or fear of
+discomposing that dress, let all your motions be as easy and natural
+as if you had no clothes on at all.</p>
+
+<p>A friend of yours and mine has 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 can not 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, 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&mdash;their cement and their se<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>curity.
+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. And indeed there seems to me to be less difference, both
+between the crimes and punishments, than at first one would
+imagine.... Mutual complaisances, attentions, and sacrifices of little
+conveniences are as natural an implied compact between civilized
+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."</p>
+
+<p>Men who converse only with women are frivolous, effeminate puppies,
+and those who never converse with them are bears.</p>
+
+<p>The desire of being pleased is universal. The desire of pleasing
+should be so too. Misers are not so much blamed for being misers as
+envied for being rich.</p>
+
+<p>Dissimulation, to a certain degree, is as necessary in business as
+clothes are in the common intercourse of life; and a man would be as
+imprudent who should exhibit his inside naked, as he would be indecent
+if he produced his outside so.</p>
+
+<p>A woman will be implicitly governed by the man whom she is in love
+with, but will not be directed by the man whom she esteems the most.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+The former is the result of passion, which is her character; the
+latter must be the effect of reasoning, which is by no means of the
+feminine gender.</p>
+
+<p>The best moral virtues are those of which the vulgar are, perhaps, the
+best judges.</p>
+
+<p>Let us, then, not only scatter benefits, but even strew flowers, for
+our fellow travelers in the rugged ways of this wretched world.</p>
+
+<p>Your duty to man is very short and clear; it is only to do to him
+whatever you would be willing that he should do to you. And remember
+in all the business of your life to ask your conscience this question,
+Should I be willing that this should be done to me? If your
+conscience, which will always tell you truth, answers no, do not do
+that thing. Observe these rules, and you will be happy in this world
+and still happier in the next.</p>
+
+<p>Carefully avoid all affectation either of mind or body. It is a very
+true and a very trite observation that no man is ridiculous for being
+what he really is, but for affecting to be what he is not. No man is
+awkward by nature, but by affecting to be genteel, and I have known
+many a man of common sense pass generally for a fool because he
+affected a degree of wit that God had denied him. A plowman is by no
+means awkward in the exercise of his trade, but would be exceedingly
+ridiculous if he attempted the airs and grace of a man of fashion.</p>
+
+<p>What is commonly called in the world a man or a woman of spirit are
+the two most detestable and most dangerous animals that inhabit it.
+They are strong-headed, captious, jealous, offended without reason,
+and offending with as little. The man of spirit has immediate
+recourse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> to his sword, and the woman of spirit to her tongue, and it
+is hard to say which of the two is the most mischievous weapon.</p>
+
+<p>Speak to the King with full as little concern (tho with more respect)
+as you would to your equals. This is the distinguishing characteristic
+of a gentleman and a man of the world.</p>
+
+<p>That silly article of dress is no trifle. Never be the first nor the
+last in the fashion. Wear as fine clothes as those of your rank
+commonly do, and rather better than worse, and when you are well drest
+once a day do not seem to know that you have any clothes on at all,
+but let your carriage and motion be as easy as they would be in your
+nightgowns.</p>
+
+<p>Let your address when you first come into any company be modest, but
+without the least bashfulness or sheepishness, steady without
+impudence, and as unembarrassed as if you were in your own room. This
+is a difficult point to hit, and therefore deserves great attention;
+nothing but a long usage of the world and in the best company can
+possibly give it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_4" id="II_4"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>OF ATTENTIONS TO LADIES<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Women, in a great degree, establish or destroy every man's reputation
+of good breeding; you must, therefore, in a manner, overwhelm them
+with the attentions of which I have spoken; they are used to them,
+they expect them; and, to do <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>them justice, they commonly requite
+them. You must be sedulous, and rather over officious than under, in
+procuring them their coaches, their chairs, their conveniences in
+public places; not see what you should not see; and rather assist,
+where you can not help seeing. Opportunities of showing these
+attentions present themselves perpetually; but if they do not, make
+them. As Ovid advises his lover, when he sits in the circus near his
+mistress, to wipe the dust off her neck, even if there be none. <i>Si
+nullus tamen excute nullum.</i> Your conversation with women should
+always be respectful; but at the same time, <i>enjou&eacute;</i>, and always
+addrest to their vanity. Everything you say or do should convince them
+of the regard you have (whether you have it or not) for their beauty,
+their wit, or their merit. Men have possibly as much vanity as women,
+tho of another kind; and both art and good breeding require that,
+instead of mortifying, you should please and flatter it, by words and
+looks of approbation.</p>
+
+<p>Suppose (which is by no means improbable) that at your return to
+England, I should place you near the person of some one of the royal
+family; in that situation good breeding, engaging address, adorned
+with all the graces that dwell at courts, would very probably make you
+a favorite, and, from a favorite, a minister; but all the knowledge
+and learning in the world, without them, never would. The penetration
+of princes seldom goes deeper than the surface. It is the exterior
+that always engages their hearts; and I would never advise you to give
+yourself much trouble about their understandings.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> Princes in general
+(I mean those Porphyrogenets who are born and bred in purple) are
+about the pitch of women; bred up like them, and are to be addrest and
+gained in the same manner. They always see, they seldom weigh. Your
+luster, not your solidity, must take them; your inside will afterward
+support and secure what your outside has acquired.</p>
+
+<p>With weak people (and they undoubtedly are three parts in four of
+mankind) good breeding, address, and manners are everything; they can
+go no deeper: but let me assure you, that they are a great deal, even
+with people of the best understandings. Where the eyes are not
+pleased, and the heart is not flattered, the mind will be apt to stand
+out. Be this right or wrong, I confess, I am so made myself.
+Awkwardness and ill breeding shock me, to that degree, that where I
+meet with them, I can not find in my heart to inquire into the
+intrinsic merit of that person; I hastily decide in myself, that he
+can have none; and am not sure, I should not even be sorry to know
+that he had any. I often paint you in my imagination, in your present
+<i>lontananza</i>; and, while I view you in the light of ancient and modern
+learning, useful and ornamental knowledge, I am charmed with the
+prospect; but when I view you in another light, and represent you
+awkward, ungraceful, ill bred, with vulgar air and manners, shambling
+toward me with inattention and distractions, I shall not pretend to
+describe to you what I feel, but will do as a skilful painter did
+formerly, draw a veil before the countenance of the father.</p>
+
+<p>I dare say you know already enough of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> architecture to know that the
+Tuscan is the strongest and most solid of all the orders; but, at the
+same time, it is the coarsest and clumsiest of them. Its solidity does
+extremely well for the foundation and base floor of a great edifice;
+but, if the whole building be Tuscan, it will attract no eyes, it will
+stop no passengers, it will invite no interior examination; people
+will take it for granted that the finishing and furnishing can not be
+worth seeing, where the front is so unadorned and clumsy. But, if upon
+the solid Tuscan foundation, the Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian
+orders rise gradually with all their beauty, proportions, and
+ornaments, the fabric seizes the most incurious eye, and stops the
+most careless passenger, who solicits admission as a favor, nay, often
+purchases it. Just so will it fare with your little fabric, which at
+present I fear has more of the Tuscan than of the Corinthian order.
+You must absolutely change the whole front or nobody will knock at the
+door. The several parts which must compose this new front are elegant,
+easy, natural, superior good breeding; and an engaging address;
+genteel motions; an insinuating softness in your looks, words, and
+actions; a spruce, lively air, and fashionable dress; and all the
+glitter that a young fellow should have.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> From the "Letters to His Son," <i>passim</i>. Chesterfield,
+the man of affairs&mdash;and he had real distinction in the public life of
+his time&mdash;is quite forgotten, but his letters, which he wrote for
+private purposes and never dreamed would be published, have made him
+one of the English literary immortals.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> From the "Letters to His Son."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HENRY_FIELDING" id="HENRY_FIELDING"></a>HENRY FIELDING</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1707, died in 1754; son of Gen. Edmund Fielding;
+admitted to the bar in 1740; made a justice of the peace in
+1748; chairman of Quarter Sessions in 1749; published
+"Joseph Andrews" in 1742, "Tom Jones" in 1749, and "Amelia"
+in 1751; among other works wrote many plays and "A Journal
+of a Voyage to Lisbon," which was published in 1755, after
+his death which occurred in Lisbon.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_5" id="I_5"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>TOM THE HERO ENTERS THE STAGE<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>As we determined when we first sat down to write this history to
+flatter no man, but to guide our pen throughout by the directions of
+truth, we are obliged to bring our hero on the stage in a much more
+disadvantageous manner than we could wish; and to declare honestly,
+even at his first appearance, that it was the universal opinion of all
+Mr. Allworthy's family that he was certainly born to be hanged.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, I am sorry to say there was too much reason for this
+conjecture, the lad having from his earliest years discovered a
+propensity to many vices, and especially to one, which hath as a
+direct tendency as any other to that fate which we have just now
+observed to have been prophetically denounced against him. He had been
+already convicted of three robberies; viz., of robbing an orchard, of
+stealing a duck out of a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>farmer's yard, and of picking Master
+Blifil's pocket of a ball.</p>
+
+<p>The vices of this young man were, moreover, heightened by the
+disadvantageous light in which they appeared, when opposed to the
+virtues of Master Blifil, his companion&mdash;a youth of so different a
+caste from little Jones, that not only the family but all the
+neighborhood resounded his praises. He was indeed a lad of a
+remarkable disposition; sober, discreet, and pious beyond his
+age,&mdash;qualities which gained him the love of every one who knew him;
+whilst Tom Jones was universally disliked, and many exprest their
+wonder that Mr. Allworthy would suffer such a lad to be educated with
+his nephew, lest the morals of the latter should be corrupted by his
+example.</p>
+
+<p>An incident which happened about this time will set the character of
+these two lads more fairly before the discerning reader than is in the
+power of the longest dissertation.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Jones, who bad as he is must serve for the hero of this history,
+had only one friend among all the servants of the family; for as to
+Mrs. Wilkins, she had long since given him up, and was perfectly
+reconciled to her mistress. This friend was the gamekeeper, a fellow
+of a loose kind of disposition, and who was thought not to entertain
+much stricter notions concerning the difference of <i>meum</i> and <i>tuum</i>
+than the young gentleman himself. And hence this friendship gave
+occasion to many sarcastical remarks among the domestics, most of
+which were either proverbs before, or at least are become so now; and
+indeed, the wit of them all may be com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>prised in that short Latin
+proverb, "<i>Noscitur a socio</i>," which I think is thus exprest in
+English: "You may know him by the company he keeps."</p>
+
+<p>To say the truth, some of that atrocious wickedness in Jones, of which
+we have just mentioned three examples, might perhaps be derived from
+the encouragement he had received from this fellow, who in two or
+three instances had been what the law calls an accessory after the
+fact. For the whole duck and a great part of the apples were converted
+to the use of the gamekeeper and his family. Tho as Jones alone was
+discovered, the poor lad bore not only the whole smart but the whole
+blame; both which fell again to his lot on the following occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Contiguous to Mr. Allworthy's estate was the manor of one of those
+gentlemen who are called preservers of the game. This species of men,
+from the great severity with which they revenge the death of a hare or
+a partridge, might be thought to cultivate the same superstition with
+the Bannians in India, many of whom, we are told, dedicate their whole
+lives to the preservation and protection of certain animals; was it
+not that our English Bannians, while they preserve them from other
+enemies, will most unmercifully slaughter whole horse-loads
+themselves, so that they stand clearly acquitted of any such
+heathenish superstition.</p>
+
+<p>I have indeed a much better opinion of this kind of men than is
+entertained by some, as I take them to answer the order of nature, and
+the good purposes for which they were ordained, in a more ample manner
+than many others. Now, as Horace tells us, that there are a set of
+human<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> beings, <i>fruges consumere nati</i>, "born to consume the fruits of
+the earth," so I make no manner of doubt but that there are others,
+<i>feras consumere nati</i>, "born to consume the beasts of the field," or
+as it is commonly called, the game; and none, I believe, will deny but
+that those squires fulfil this end of their creation.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jones went one day a-shooting with the gamekeeper; when
+happening to spring a covey of partridges, near the border of that
+manor over which fortune, to fulfil the wise purposes of nature, had
+planted one of the game-consumers, the birds flew into it and were
+marked (as it is called) by the two sportsmen in some furze bushes,
+about two or three hundred paces beyond Mr. Allworthy's dominions.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Allworthy had given the fellow strict orders, on pain of
+forfeiting his place, never to trespass on any of his neighbors; no
+more on those who were less rigid in this matter than on the lord of
+the manor. With regard to others, indeed, these orders had not been
+always very scrupulously kept; but as the disposition of the gentleman
+with whom the partridges had taken sanctuary was well known, the
+gamekeeper had never yet attempted to invade his territories. Nor had
+he done it now, had not the younger sportsman, who was excessively
+eager to pursue the flying game, over-persuaded him; but Jones being
+very importunate, the other, who was himself keen enough after the
+sport, yielded to his persuasions, entered the manor, and shot one of
+the partridges.</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman himself was at that time on horseback, at a little
+distance from them; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> hearing the gun go off, he immediately made
+toward the place, and discovered poor Tom; for the gamekeeper had
+leapt into the thickest part of the furze-brake, where he had happily
+concealed himself.</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman having searched the lad and found the partridge upon
+him, denounced great vengeance, swearing he would acquaint Mr.
+Allworthy. He was as good as his word, for he rode immediately to his
+house and complained of the trespass on his manor, in as high terms
+and as bitter language as if his house had been broken open and the
+most valuable furniture stolen out of it. He added that some other
+person was in his company, tho he could not discover him; for that two
+guns had been discharged, almost in the same instant. And, says he,
+"We have found only this partridge, but the Lord knows what mischief
+they have done."</p>
+
+<p>At his return home, Tom was presently convened before Mr. Allworthy.
+He owned the fact, and alleged no other excuse but what was really
+true; viz., that the covey was originally sprung in Mr. Allworthy's
+own manor.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was then interrogated who was with him, which Mr. Allworthy
+declared he was resolved to know, acquainting the culprit with the
+circumstance of the two guns, which had been deposed by the squire and
+both his servants; but Tom stoutly persisted in asserting that he was
+alone; yet, to say the truth, he hesitated a little at first, which
+would have confirmed Mr. Allworthy's belief, had what the squire and
+his servants said wanted any further confirmation.</p>
+
+<p>The gamekeeper, being a suspected person, was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> now sent for and the
+question put to him; but he, relying on the promise which Tom had made
+him to take all upon himself, very resolutely denied being in company
+with the young gentleman, or indeed having seen him the whole
+afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Allworthy then turned toward Tom with more than usual anger in his
+countenance, and advised him to confess who was with him; repeating
+that he was resolved to know. The lad, however, still maintained his
+resolution, and was dismissed with much wrath by Mr. Allworthy, who
+told him he should have the next morning to consider of it, when he
+should be questioned by another person and in another manner.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Jones spent a very melancholy night, and the more so as he was
+without his usual companion, for Master Blifil was gone abroad on a
+visit with his mother. Fear of the punishment he was to suffer was on
+this occasion his least evil; his chief anxiety being lest his
+constancy should fail him and he should be brought to betray the
+gamekeeper, whose ruin he knew must now be the consequence.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did the gamekeeper pass his time much better. He had the same
+apprehensions with the youth; for whose honor he had likewise a much
+tenderer regard than for his skin.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, when Tom attended the Reverend Mr. Thwackum, the
+person to whom Mr. Allworthy had committed the instruction of the two
+boys, he had the same questions put to him by that gentleman which he
+had been asked the evening before, to which he returned the same
+answers. The consequence of this was so severe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> a whipping, that it
+possibly fell little short of the torture with which confessions are
+in some countries extorted from criminals.</p>
+
+<p>Tom bore his punishment with great resolution; and tho his master
+asked him between every stroke whether he would not confess, he was
+contented to be flayed rather than betray his friend, or break the
+promise he had made.</p>
+
+<p>The gamekeeper was now relieved from his anxiety, and Mr. Allworthy
+himself began to be concerned at Tom's sufferings: for besides that
+Mr. Thwackum, being highly enraged that he was not able to make the
+boy say what he himself pleased, had carried his severity much beyond
+the good man's intention, this latter began now to suspect that the
+squire had been mistaken, which his extreme eagerness and anger seemed
+to make probable; and as for what the servants had said in
+confirmation of their master's account, he laid no great stress upon
+that. Now, as cruelty and injustice were two ideas of which Mr.
+Allworthy could by no means support the consciousness a single moment,
+he sent for Tom, and after many kind and friendly exhortations, said,
+"I am convinced, my dear child, that my suspicions have wronged you; I
+am sorry that you have been so severely punished on this account"; and
+at last gave him a little horse to make him amends, again repeating
+his sorrow for what had passed.</p>
+
+<p>Tom's guilt now flew in his face more than any severity could make it.
+He could more easily bear the lashes of Thwackum than the generosity
+of Allworthy. The tears burst from his eyes, and he fell upon his
+knees, crying, "Oh, sir, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> are too good to me. Indeed you are.
+Indeed I don't deserve it." And at that very instant, from the fulness
+of his heart, had almost betrayed the secret; but the good genius of
+the gamekeeper suggested to him what might be the consequence to the
+poor fellow, and this consideration sealed his lips.</p>
+
+<p>Thwackum did all he could to dissuade Allworthy from showing any
+compassion or kindness to the boy, saying "he had persisted in
+untruth"; and gave some hints that a second whipping might probably
+bring the matter to light.</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Allworthy absolutely refused to consent to the experiment. He
+said the boy had suffered enough already for concealing the truth,
+even if he was guilty, seeing that he could have no motive but a
+mistaken point of honor for so doing.</p>
+
+<p>"Honor!" cried Thwackum with some warmth: "mere stubbornness and
+obstinacy! Can honor teach any one to tell a lie, or can any honor
+exist independent of religion?"</p>
+
+<p>This discourse happened at table when dinner was just ended; and there
+were present Mr. Allworthy, Mr. Thwackum, and a third gentleman.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_5" id="II_5"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>PARTRIDGE SEES GARRICK AT THE PLAY<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Jones having spent three hours in reading and kissing the
+aforesaid letter,<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> and being, at last, in a state of good spirits,
+from the last-mentioned considerations, he agreed to carry an
+appointment, which he had before made, into execution. This was, to
+attend Mrs. Miller, and her younger daughter, into the gallery at the
+playhouse, and to admit Mr. Partridge as one of the company. For as
+Jones had really that taste for humor which many affect, he expected
+to enjoy much entertainment in the criticisms of Partridge, from whom
+he expected the simple dictates of nature, unimproved, indeed, but
+likewise unadulterated by art.</p>
+
+<p>In the first row then of the first gallery did Mr. Jones, Mrs. Miller,
+her youngest daughter, and Partridge take their places. Partridge
+immediately declared it was the finest place he had ever been in. When
+the first music was played, he said, "it was a wonder how so many
+fiddlers could play at one time, without putting one another out."
+While the fellow was lighting the upper candles, he cried out to Mrs.
+Miller, "Look, look, madam, the very picture of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>man in the end of
+the common prayer book before the gunpowder-treason service." Nor
+could he help observing with a sigh, when all the candles were
+lighted, "That here were candles enough burned in one night to keep an
+honest poor family for a whole twelvemonth."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the play, which was "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," began,
+Partridge was all attention, nor did he break silence till the
+entrance of the ghost; upon which he asked Jones, "What man that was
+in the strange dress; something," said he, "like what I have seen in
+the picture. Sure it is not armor, is it?" Jones answered, "That is
+the ghost." To which Partridge replied with a smile, "Persuade me to
+that, sir, if you can. Tho I can't say I ever actually saw a ghost in
+my life, yet I am certain I should know one, if I saw him, better than
+that comes to. No, no, sir; ghosts don't appear in such dresses as
+that, neither." In this mistake, which caused much laughter in the
+neighborhood of Partridge, he was suffered to continue, till the scene
+between the ghost and Hamlet, when Partridge gave that credit to Mr.
+Garrick, which he had denied to Jones, and fell into so violent a
+trembling that his knees knocked against each other. Jones asked him
+what was the matter, and whether he was afraid of the warrior upon the
+stage? "O la! sir," said he, "I perceive now it is what you told me. I
+am not afraid of anything; for I know it is but a play. And if it was
+really a ghost, it could do one no harm at such a distance, and in so
+much company; and yet if I was frightened, I am not the only person."
+"Why, who," cries Jones,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> "dost thou take to be such a coward here
+besides thyself?" "Nay, you may call me a coward if you will; but if
+that little man there upon the stage is not frightened, I never saw
+any man frightened in my life. Ay, ay: go along with you! Ay, to be
+sure! Who's fool then? Will you? lud have mercy upon such
+foolhardiness? Whatever happens, it is good enough for you. Follow
+you? I'd follow the devil as soon. Nay, perhaps it is the devil&mdash;for
+they say he can put on what likeness he pleases. Oh! here he is again.
+No farther! No, you have gone far enough already; farther than I'd
+have gone for all the king's dominions." Jones offered to speak, but
+Partridge cried, "Hush! hush! dear sir, don't you hear him?" And
+during the whole speech of the ghost, he sat with his eyes fixt partly
+on the ghost and partly on Hamlet, and with his mouth open; the same
+passions which succeeded each other in Hamlet, succeeding likewise in
+him.</p>
+
+<p>When the scene was over Jones said, "Why, Mr. Partridge, you exceed my
+expectations. You enjoy the play more than I conceived possible."
+"Nay, sir," answered Partridge, "if you are not afraid of the devil, I
+can't help it; but to be sure, it is natural to be surprized at such
+things, tho I know there is nothing in them: not that it was the ghost
+that surprized me, neither; for I should have known that to have been
+only a man in a strange dress; but when I saw the little man so
+frightened himself, it was that which took hold of me." "And dost thou
+imagine, then, Partridge," cries Jones, "that he was really
+frightened?" "Nay, sir," said Par<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>tridge, "did not you yourself
+observe afterward, when he found it was his own father's spirit and
+how he was murdered in the garden, how his fear forsook him by
+degrees, and he was struck dumb with sorrow, as it were, just as I
+should have been, had it been my own case? But hush! O la! what noise
+is that! There he is again. Well, to be certain, tho I know there is
+nothing at all in it, I am glad I am not down yonder, where those men
+are." Then turning his eyes again upon Hamlet, "Ay, you may draw your
+sword; what signifies a sword against the power of the devil?"</p>
+
+<p>During the second act Partridge made very few remarks. He greatly
+admired the fineness of the dresses; nor could he help observing upon
+the king's countenance. "Well," said he, "how people may be deceived
+by faces? <i>Nulla fides fronti</i> is, I find, a true saying. Who would
+think, by looking in the king's face, that he had ever committed a
+murder?" He then inquired after the ghost; but Jones, who intended he
+should be surprized, gave him no other satisfaction than, "that he
+might possibly see him again soon, and in a flash of fire."</p>
+
+<p>Partridge sat in fearful expectation of this; and now, when the ghost
+made his next appearance, Partridge cried out, "There sir, now; what
+say you now? is he frightened now or no? As much frightened as you
+think me, and, to be sure, nobody can help some fears. I would not be
+in so bad a condition as what's his name, Squire Hamlet, is there, for
+all the world. Bless me! what's become of the spirit? As I am a living
+soul, I thought I saw him sink into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> earth." "Indeed, you saw
+right," answered Jones. "Well, well," cries Partridge, "I know it is
+only a play; and besides, if there was anything in all this, Madam
+Miller would not laugh so; for as to you, sir, you would not be
+afraid, I believe, if the devil was here in person. There, there&mdash;ay,
+no wonder you are in such a passion; shake the vile wicked wretch to
+pieces. If she was my own mother, I would serve her so. To be sure all
+duty to a mother is forfeited by such wicked doings.&mdash;Ay, go about
+your business; I hate the sight of you."</p>
+
+<p>Our critic was now pretty silent till the play which Hamlet introduces
+before the king. This he did not at first understand, till Jones
+explained it to him; but he no sooner entered into the spirit of it,
+than he began to bless himself that he had never committed murder.
+Then turning to Mrs. Miller, he asked her, "If she did not imagine the
+king looked as if he was touched; tho he is," said he, "a good actor,
+and doth all he can to hide it. Well, I would not have so much to
+answer for, as that wicked man there hath, to sit upon a much higher
+chair than he sits upon. No wonder he run away; for your sake I'll
+never trust an innocent face again."</p>
+
+<p>The grave-digging scene next engaged the attention of Partridge, who
+exprest much surprize at the number of skulls thrown upon the stage.
+To which Jones answered, "That it was one of the most famous
+burial-places about town." "No wonder then," cries Partridge, "that
+the place is haunted. But I never saw in my life a worse grave-digger.
+I had a sexton, when I was clerk, that should have dug three graves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+while he is digging one. The fellow handles a spade as if it was the
+first time he had ever had one in his hand. Ay, ay, you may sing. You
+had rather sing than work, I believe." Upon Hamlet's taking up the
+skull, he cried out, "Well! it is strange to see how fearless some men
+are: I never could bring myself to touch anything belonging to a dead
+man, on any account. He seemed frightened enough too at the ghost, I
+thought. <i>Nemo omnibus horis sapit.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Little more worth remembering occurred during the play, at the end of
+which Jones asked him, "Which of the players he had liked best?" To
+this he answered, with some appearance of indignation at the question,
+"The king, without doubt." "Indeed, Mr. Partridge," says Mrs. Miller,
+"you are not of the same opinion with the town; for they are all
+agreed that Hamlet is acted by the best player who ever was on the
+stage." "He the best player!" cries Partridge, with a contemptuous
+sneer, "why, I could act as well as he himself. I am sure, if I had
+seen a ghost, I should have looked in the very same manner, and done
+just as he did. And then, to be sure, in that scene, as you called it,
+between him and his mother, where you told me he acted so fine, why,
+Lord help me, any man, that is, any good man, that had such a mother,
+would have done exactly the same. I know you are only joking with me;
+but indeed, madam, tho I was never to a play in London, yet I have
+seen acting before in the country; and the king for my money; he
+speaks all his words distinctly, half as loud again as the other.
+Anybody may see he is an actor."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III_2" id="III_2"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>MR. ADAMS IN A POLITICAL LIGHT<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>"I do assure you, sir," says he, taking the gentleman by the hand, "I
+am heartily glad to meet with a man of your kidney; for, tho I am a
+poor parson, I will be bold to say I am an honest man, and would not
+do an ill thing to be made a bishop; nay, tho it hath not fallen in my
+way to offer so noble a sacrifice, I have not been without
+opportunities of suffering for the sake of my conscience, I thank
+heaven for them; for I have had relations, tho I say it, who made some
+figure in the world, particularly a nephew, who was a shopkeeper and
+an alderman of a corporation. He was a good lad, and was under my care
+when a boy, and I believe would do what I bade him to his dying day.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, it looks like extreme vanity in me to affect being a man of
+such consequence as to have so great an interest in an alderman; but
+others have thought so too, as manifestly appeared by the rector whose
+curate I formerly was sending for me on the approach of an election,
+and telling me if I expected to continue in his cure that I must bring
+my nephew to vote for one Colonel Courtly, a gentleman whom I had
+never heard tidings of till that instant. I told the rector I had no
+power over my nephew's vote (God forgive me for such prevarication!);
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>that I supposed he would give it according to his conscience; that I
+would by no means endeavor to influence him to give it otherwise. He
+told me it was in vain to equivocate; that he knew I had already spoke
+to him in favor of Squire Fickle, my neighbor; and indeed it was true
+I had; for it was at a season when the church was in danger, and when
+all good men expected they knew not what would happen to us all. I
+then answered boldly, if he thought I had given my promise he
+affronted me in proposing any breach of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Not to be too prolix, I persevered, and so did my nephew, in the
+esquire's interest, who was chose chiefly through his means; and so I
+lost my curacy. Well, sir, but do you think the esquire ever mentioned
+a word of the church? <i>ne verbum quidem, ut ita dicam</i>; within two
+years he got a place, and hath ever since lived in London, where I
+have been informed (but God forbid I should believe that) that he
+never so much as goeth to church. I remained, sir, a considerable time
+without any cure, and lived a full month on one funeral sermon, which
+I preached on the indisposition of a clergyman; but this by the bye.</p>
+
+<p>"At last, when Mr. Fickle got his place, Colonel Courtly stood again;
+and who should make interest for him but Mr. Fickle himself! that very
+identical Mr. Fickle, who had formerly told me the colonel was an
+enemy to both the church and state, had the confidence to solicit my
+nephew for him; and the colonel himself offered me to make me chaplain
+to his regiment, which I refused in favor of Sir Oliver Hearty, who
+told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> us he would sacrifice everything to his country; and I believe
+he would, except his hunting, which he stuck so close to that in five
+years together he went but twice up to Parliament; and one of those
+times, I have been told, never was within sight of the House. However,
+he was a worthy man, and the best friend I ever had; for, by his
+interest with a bishop, he got me replaced into my curacy, and gave me
+eight pounds out of his own pocket to buy me a gown and cassock and
+furnish my house. He had our interest while he lived, which was not
+many years.</p>
+
+<p>"On his death I had fresh applications made to me; for all the world
+knew the interest I had in my good nephew, who now was a leading man
+in the corporation; and Sir Thomas Booby, buying the estate which had
+been Sir Oliver's, proposed himself a candidate. He was then a young
+gentleman just come from his travels; and it did me good to hear him
+discourse on affairs, which, for my part, I knew nothing of. If I had
+been master of a thousand votes he should have had them all.</p>
+
+<p>"I engaged my nephew in his interest, and he was elected; and a very
+fine Parliament-man he was. They tell me he made speeches of an hour
+long, and, I have been told, very fine ones; but he could never
+persuade the Parliament to be of his opinion. <i>Non omnia possumus
+omnes.</i> He promised me a living, poor man! and I believe I should have
+had it, but an accident happened, which was that my lady had promised
+it before, unknown to him. This indeed I never heard till afterward;
+for my nephew, who died about a month before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> incumbent, always
+told me I might be assured of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Since that time, Sir Thomas, poor man! had always so much business
+that he never could find leisure to see me. I believe it was partly my
+lady's fault, too, who did not think my dress good enough for the
+gentry at her table. However, I must do him the justice to say he
+never was ungrateful; and I have always found his kitchen, and his
+cellar too, open to me: many a time, after service on a Sunday&mdash;for I
+preached at four churches&mdash;have I recruited my spirits with a glass of
+his ale. Since my nephew's death, the corporation is in other hands;
+and I am not a man of that consequence I was formerly. I have now no
+longer any talents to lay out in service of my country; and to whom
+nothing is given, of him can nothing be required.</p>
+
+<p>"However, on all proper seasons, such as the approach of an election,
+I throw a suitable dash or two into my sermons, which I have the
+pleasure to hear is not disagreeable to Sir Thomas and the other
+honest gentlemen my neighbors, who have all promised me these five
+years to procure an ordination for a son of mine, who is now near
+thirty, hath an infinite stock of learning, and is, I thank Heaven, of
+an unexceptionable life; tho, as he was never at a university, the
+bishop refuses to ordain him. Too much care can not indeed be taken in
+admitting any to the sacred office; tho I hope he will never act so as
+to be a disgrace to any order, but will serve his God and his country
+to the utmost of his power, as I have endeavored to do before him;
+nay, and will lay down his life whenever called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> to that purpose. I am
+sure I have educated him in those principles; so that I have acquitted
+my duty, and shall have nothing to answer for on that account. But I
+do not distrust him, for he is a good boy; and if Providence should
+throw it in his way to be of as much consequence in a public light as
+his father once was, I can answer for him he will use his talents as
+honestly as I have done."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> From "Tom Jones, a Foundling," Book 3, Chapter 2.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> From Book 16, Chapter 5, of "The History of Tom Jones, a
+Foundling."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> This was a letter from Sophia Weston, hoping "that
+Fortune may be sometime kinder to us than at present."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> From Book 2, Chapter 8, of "The Adventures of Joseph
+Andrews."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SAMUEL_JOHNSON" id="SAMUEL_JOHNSON"></a>SAMUEL JOHNSON</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1709, died in 1784; son of a bookseller; educated at
+Oxford, where he made a translation into Latin of Pope's
+"Messiah"; established a school near Lichfield in 1736,
+which soon failed; among its pupils David Garrick, with whom
+he went to London in 1737; issued the plan of his
+"Dictionary" in 1747, and published it in two volumes in
+1755; published "The Vanity of Human Wishes" in 1749;
+started <i>The Rambler</i>, a periodical, in 1750; writing nearly
+the whole of it; wrote "Rasselas" in 1759; went to Scotland
+with Boswell in 1773; published an edition of Shakespeare in
+1765.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_6" id="I_6"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>ON PUBLISHING HIS "DICTIONARY"<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>It is the fate of those who toil at the lower employments of life to
+be rather driven by the fear of evil than attracted by the prospect of
+good; to be exposed to censure without hope of praise; to be disgraced
+by miscarriage, or punished for neglect, where success would have been
+without applause, and diligence without reward.</p>
+
+<p>Among these unhappy mortals is the writer of dictionaries; whom
+mankind have considered, not as the pupil, but the slave of science,
+the pioneer of literature, doomed only to remove rubbish and clear
+obstructions from the paths through which learning and genius press
+forward to conquest and glory, without bestowing a smile on the humble
+drudge that facilitates their progress. Every other author may aspire
+to praise; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>the lexicographer can only hope to escape reproach, and
+even this negative recompense has been yet granted to very few....</p>
+
+<p>In hope of giving longevity to that which its own nature forbids to be
+immortal, I have devoted this book, the labor of years, to the honor
+of my country, that we may no longer yield the palm of philology
+without a contest to the nations of the continent. The chief glory of
+every people arises from its authors: whether I shall add anything by
+my own writings to the reputation of English literature, must be left
+to time; much of my life has been lost under the pressures of disease;
+much has been trifled away; and much has always been spent in
+provision for the day that was passing over me; but I shall not think
+my employment useless or ignoble if, by my assistance, foreign nations
+and distant ages gain access to the propagators of knowledge, and
+understand the teachers of truth; if my labors afford light to the
+repositories of science, and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to
+Milton, and to Boyle.</p>
+
+<p>When I am animated by this wish, I look with pleasure on my book,
+however defective, and deliver it to the world with the spirit of a
+man that has endeavored well. That it will immediately become popular,
+I have not promised to myself; a few wild blunders and risible
+absurdities, from which no work of such multiplicity was ever free,
+may for a time furnish folly with laughter, and harden ignorance into
+contempt; but useful diligence will at last prevail, and there never
+can be wanting some who distinguish desert, who will consider that no
+dictionary of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> a living tongue ever can be perfect, since, while it is
+hastening to publication, some words are budding and some falling
+away; that a whole life can not be spent upon syntax and etymology,
+and that even a whole life would not be sufficient; that he whose
+design includes whatever language can express, must often speak of
+what he does not understand; that a writer will sometimes be hurried
+by eagerness to the end, and sometimes faint with weariness under a
+task which Scaliger compares to the labors of the anvil and the mine;
+that what is obvious is not always known, and what is known is not
+always present; that sudden fits of inadvertency will surprize
+vigilance, slight avocations will seduce attention, and casual
+eclipses of the mind will darken learning; and that the writer shall
+often in vain trace his memory at the moment of need for that which
+yesterday he knew with intuitive readiness, and which will come
+uncalled into his thoughts tomorrow.</p>
+
+<p>In this work, when it shall be found that much is omitted, let it not
+be forgotten that much likewise is performed; and tho no book was ever
+spared out of tenderness to the author, and the world is little
+solicitous to know whence proceeded the faults of that which it
+condemns, yet it may gratify curiosity to inform it, that the English
+Dictionary was written with little assistance of the learned, and
+without any patronage of the great; not in the soft obscurities of
+retirement, or under the shelter of academic bowers, but amid
+inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow. It may
+repress the triumph of malignant criticism to observe, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> if our
+language is not here fully displayed, I have only failed in an attempt
+which no human powers have hitherto completed. If the lexicons of
+ancient tongues, now immutably fixt, and comprized in a few volumes,
+be yet, after the toil of successive ages, inadequate and delusive; if
+the aggregated knowledge and cooperating diligence of the Italian
+academicians did not secure them from the censure of Beni;<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> if the
+embodied critics of France, when fifty years had been spent upon their
+work, were obliged to change its economy, and give their second
+edition another form, I may surely be contented without the praise of
+perfection, which if I could obtain in this gloom of solitude, what
+would it avail me? I have protracted my work till most of those whom I
+wished to please have sunk into the grave, and success and miscarriage
+are empty sounds. I therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity,
+having little to fear or hope from censure or from praise.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_6" id="II_6"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>POPE AND DRYDEN COMPARED<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Pope profest to have learned his poetry from Dryden, whom, whenever an
+opportunity was presented, he praised through his whole life with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>unvaried liberality; and perhaps his character may receive some
+illustration, if he be compared with his master.</p>
+
+<p>Integrity of understanding and nicety of discernment were not allotted
+in a less proportion to Dryden than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's
+mind was sufficiently shown by the dismission of his poetical
+prejudices, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged
+numbers. But Dryden never desired to apply all the judgment that he
+had. He wrote, and profest to write, merely for the people; and when
+he pleased others he contented himself. He spent no time in struggles
+to rouse latent powers; he never attempted to make that better which
+was already good, not often to mend what he must have known to be
+faulty. He wrote, as he tells us, with very little consideration; when
+occasion or necessity called upon him, he poured out what the present
+moment happened to supply, and, when once it had passed the press,
+ejected it from his mind; for when he had no pecuniary interest, he
+had no further solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>Pope was not content to satisfy: he desired to excel, and therefore
+always endeavored to do his best: he did not court the candor, but
+dared the judgment of his reader, and expecting no indulgence from
+others, he showed none to himself. He examined lines and words with
+minute and punctilious observation, and retouched every part with
+indefatigable diligence, till he had left nothing to be forgiven.</p>
+
+<p>For this reason he kept his pieces very long in his hands, while he
+considered and reconsidered them. The only poems which can be
+sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>posed to have been written with such regard to the times as might
+hasten their publication, were the two satires of "Thirty-eight," of
+which Dodsley<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> told me that they were brought to him by the author
+that they might be fairly copied. "Almost every line," he said, "was
+then written twice over. I gave him a clean transcript, which he sent
+some time afterward to me for the press with almost every line written
+twice over a second time."</p>
+
+<p>His declaration, that his care for his works ceased at their
+publication, was not strictly true. His parental attention never
+abandoned them; what he found amiss in the first edition, he silently
+corrected in those that followed. He appears to have revised the
+"Iliad," and freed it from some of its imperfections; and the "Essay
+on Criticism" received many improvements after its first appearance.
+It will seldom be found that he altered without adding clearness,
+elegance, or vigor.</p>
+
+<p>Pope had perhaps the judgment of Dryden, but Dryden certainly wanted
+the diligence of Pope.</p>
+
+<p>In acquired knowledge the superiority must be allowed to Dryden, whose
+education was more scholastic, and who, before he became an author,
+had been allowed more time for study, with better means of
+information. His mind has a larger range, and he collects his images
+and illustrations from a more extensive circumference of science.
+Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local
+manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>comprehensive
+speculation, and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more
+dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of
+Pope.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry was not the sole praise of either; for both excelled likewise
+in prose; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The
+style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and
+uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains his
+mind to his own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and
+rapid, Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is a
+natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied
+exuberance of abundant vegetation; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by
+the scythe, and leveled by the roller.</p>
+
+<p>Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet, that quality without
+which judgment is cold and knowledge is inert, that energy which
+collects, combines, amplifies, and animates, the superiority must,
+with some hesitation, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred,
+that of this poetical vigor Pope had only a little because Dryden had
+more; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope; and
+even of Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs, he
+has not better poems. Dryden's performances were always hasty, either
+excited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestic necessity;
+he composed without consideration, and published without correction.
+What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was
+all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope
+enabled him to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and
+to accumulate all that study might produce or chance might supply. If
+the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope continues longer on
+the wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the
+heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation,
+and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent
+astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_3" id="III_3"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>LETTER TO CHESTERFIELD ON THE COMPLETION OF THE "DICTIONARY"<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>My Lord: I have been lately informed by the proprietor of the <i>World</i>
+that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public,
+were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honor,
+which, being very little accustomed to favors from the great, I know
+not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
+<p>When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I
+was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your
+address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself <i>le
+vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre</i>&mdash;that I might obtain that regard
+for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so
+little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to
+continue it. When I had once addrest your Lordship in public, I had
+exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly
+scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well
+pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.</p>
+
+<p>Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward
+rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been
+pushing on my work through difficulties of which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>it is useless to
+complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication,
+without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile
+of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron
+before.</p>
+
+<p>The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found
+him a native of the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>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 labors, had it been early had been kind: but it has been
+delayed till I am indifferent, and can not enjoy it; till I am
+solitary, and can not 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.</p>
+
+<p>Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any
+favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed tho I should conclude
+it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from
+that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much
+exultation, my lord,</p>
+
+<p class="sig">Your Lordship's most humble, most obedient servant,</p>
+
+<p class="sig1"><span class="smcap">Sam. Johnson</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="IV_1" id="IV_1"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>ON THE ADVANTAGES OF LIVING IN A GARRET<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Nothing has more retarded the advancement of learning than the
+disposition of vulgar minds to ridicule and vilify what they can not
+comprehend. All industry must be excited by hope; and as the student
+often proposes no other reward to himself than praise, he is easily
+discouraged by contempt and insult. He who brings with him into a
+clamorous multitude the timidity of recluse speculation, and has never
+hardened his front in public life, or accustomed his passions to the
+vicissitudes and accidents, the triumphs and defeats of mixt
+conversation, will blush at the stare of petulant incredulity, and
+suffer himself to be driven, by a burst of laughter, from the
+fortresses of demonstration. The mechanist will be afraid to assert
+before hardy contradictions the possibility of tearing down bulwarks
+with a silkworm's thread; and the astronomer of relating the rapidity
+of light, the distance of the fixt stars, and the height of the lunar
+mountains.</p>
+
+<p>If I could by any efforts have shaken off this cowardice, I had not
+sheltered myself under a borrowed name, nor applied to you for the
+means of communicating to the public the theory of a garret; a subject
+which, except some slight and transient strictures, has been hitherto
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>neglected by those who were best qualified to adorn it, either for
+want of leisure to prosecute the various researches in which a nice
+discussion must engage them, or because it requires such diversity of
+knowledge, and such extent of curiosity, as is scarcely to be found in
+any single intellect; or perhaps others foresaw the tumults which
+would be raised against them, and confined their knowledge to their
+own breasts, and abandoned prejudice and folly to the direction of
+chance.</p>
+
+<p>That the professors of literature generally reside in the highest
+stories has been immemorially observed. The wisdom of the ancients was
+well acquainted with the intellectual advantages of an elevated
+situation; why else were the Muses stationed on Olympus, or Parnassus,
+by those who could with equal right have raised them bowers in the
+vale of Tempe, or erected their altars among the flexures of Meander?
+Why was Jove himself nursed upon a mountain? or why did the goddesses,
+when the prize of beauty was contested, try the cause upon the top of
+Ida? Such were the fictions by which the great masters of the earlier
+ages endeavored to inculcate to posterity the importance of a garret,
+which, tho they had been long obscured by the negligence and ignorance
+of succeeding times, were well enforced by the celebrated symbol of
+Pythagoras, "when the wind blows, worship its echo." This could not
+but be understood by his disciples as an inviolable injunction to live
+in a garret, which I have found frequently visited by the echo and the
+wind. Nor was the tradition wholly obliterated in the age of Augustus,
+for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> Tibullus evidently congratulates himself upon his garret, not
+without some allusion to the Pythagorean precept:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How sweet in sleep to pass the careless hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lull'd by the beating winds and dashing showers!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And it is impossible not to discover the fondness of Lucretius, an
+early writer, for a garret, in his description of the lofty towers of
+serene learning, and of the pleasure with which a wise man looks down
+upon the confused and erratic state of the world moving below him:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">... 'Tis sweet thy laboring steps to guide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To virtue's heights, with wisdom well supplied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the magazines of learning fortified:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From thence to look below on human kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bewilder'd in the maze of life, and blind.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The institution has, indeed, continued to our own time; the garret is
+still the usual receptacle of the philosopher and poet; but this, like
+many ancient customs, is perpetuated only by an accidental imitation,
+without knowledge of the original reason for which it was established:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The cause is secret, but th' effect is known.</p></div>
+
+<p>Conjectures have, indeed, been advanced concerning these habitations
+of literature, but without much satisfaction to the judicious
+inquirer. Some have imagined that the garret is generally chosen by
+the wits as most easily rented; and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>concluded that no man rejoices in
+his aerial abode, but on the days of payment. Others suspect that a
+garret is chiefly convenient, as it is remoter than any other part of
+the house from the outer door, which is often observed to be infested
+by visitants, who talk incessantly of beer, or linen, or a coat, and
+repeat the same sounds every morning, and sometimes again in the
+afternoon, without any variation, except that they grow daily more
+importunate and clamorous, and raise their voices in time from
+mournful murmurs to raging vociferations. This eternal monotony is
+always detestable to a man whose chief pleasure is to enlarge his
+knowledge, and vary his ideas. Others talk of freedom from noise, and
+abstraction from common business or amusements; and some, yet more
+visionary, tell us that the faculties are enlarged by open prospects,
+and that the fancy is more at liberty when the eye ranges without
+confinement.</p>
+
+<p>These conveniences may perhaps all be found in a well-chosen garret;
+but surely they can not be supposed sufficiently important to have
+operated invariably upon different climates, distant ages, and
+separate nations. Of a universal practise, there must still be
+presumed a universal cause, which, however recondite and abstruse, may
+be perhaps reserved to make me illustrious by its discovery, and you
+by its promulgation.</p>
+
+<p>It is universally known that the faculties of the mind are invigorated
+or weakened by the state of the body, and that the body is in a great
+measure regulated by the various compressions of the ambient element.
+The effects of the air in the production or cure of corporeal
+maladies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> have been acknowledged from the time of Hippocrates; but no
+man has yet sufficiently considered how far it may influence the
+operations of the genius, tho every day affords instances of local
+understanding, of wits and reasoners, whose faculties are adapted to
+some single spot, and who, when they are removed to any other place,
+sink at once into silence and stupidity. I have discovered by a long
+series of observations that invention and elocution suffer great
+impediments from dense and impure vapors, and that the tenuity of a
+defecated air at a proper distance from the surface of the earth
+accelerates the fancy and sets at liberty those intellectual powers
+which were before shackled by too strong attraction, and unable to
+expand themselves under the pressure of a gross atmosphere. I have
+found dulness to quicken into sentiment in a thin ether, as water, tho
+not very hot, boils in a receiver partly exhausted; and heads, in
+appearance empty, have teemed with notions upon rising ground, as the
+flaccid sides of a football would have swelled out into stiffness and
+extension.</p>
+
+<p>For this reason I never think myself qualified to judge decisively of
+any man's faculties, whom I have only known in one degree of
+elevation; but take some opportunity of attending him from the cellar
+to the garret, and try upon him all the various degrees of rarefaction
+and condensation, tension and laxity. If he is neither vivacious
+aloft, nor serious below, I then consider him as hopeless; but as it
+seldom happens that I do not find the temper to which the texture of
+his brain is fitted, I accommodate him in time with a tube of mercury,
+first marking the point<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> most favorable to his intellects, according
+to rules which I have long studied, and which I may perhaps reveal to
+mankind in a complete treatise of barometrical pneumatology.</p>
+
+<p>Another cause of the gaiety and sprightliness of the dwellers in
+garrets is probably the increase of that vertiginous motion, with
+which we are carried round by the diurnal revolution of the earth. The
+power of agitation upon the spirits is well known; every man has felt
+his heart lightened in a rapid vehicle, or on a galloping horse; and
+nothing is plainer than that he who towers to the fifth story is
+whirled through more space by every circumrotation, than another that
+grovels upon the ground floor. The nations between the tropics are
+known to be fiery, inconstant, inventive, and fanciful, because,
+living at the utmost length of the earth's diameter, they are carried
+about with more swiftness than those whom nature has placed nearer to
+the poles; and, therefore, as it becomes a wise man to struggle with
+the inconveniences of his country, whenever celerity and acuteness are
+requisite, we must actuate our languor by taking a few turns round the
+center in a garret.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> From the Preface to the "Dictionary."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Paul Beni was an Italian literary critic, who was born
+in 1552, and died in 1625. He was a professor of theology, philosophy
+and belles-lettres. The severity of his criticisms created many
+enemies. He supported Tasso as against the Della Cruscans.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> From the "Lives of the Poets."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Robert Dodsley, publisher, bookseller and author, was
+born about 1703 and died in 1764.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> The date of this famous letter&mdash;perhaps now the most
+famous of all Johnson's writings&mdash;is February 7, 1755. Leslie Stephen
+has probably said the most definite word as to the circumstances in
+which it was written, and in its justification. Johnson and
+Chesterfield at one time were friendly. The first offense on
+Chesterfield's part is said to have been caused by a reception
+accorded to Colley Cibber, while Johnson was kept waiting in an
+anteroom: this, however, has been denied by Boswell on the authority
+of Johnson himself. There seems to be no doubt that Chesterfield
+neglected Johnson while he was struggling with the "Dictionary." The
+articles which he wrote for the <i>World</i>, to which the first sentence
+in the letter refers, are believed to have been written with a view to
+securing from Johnson a dedication of the "Dictionary" to himself. Mr.
+Stephen remarks on the "singular dignity and energy" of Johnson's
+letter. Johnson did not make it public in his own lifetime, but
+ultimately gave copies of it to two of his friends, one of whom was
+Boswell. Boswell published it in his "Life of Johnson," and deposited
+the original in the British Museum. Chesterfield made no reply to the
+letter, but, in conversation with Dodsley, the bookseller, a friend of
+both men, said he had always been ready to receive Johnson, and blamed
+Johnson's pride and shyness for the outcome of the acquaintance.
+Chesterfield was long thought to have referred to Johnson as a
+"respectable Hottentot," this being on the authority of Boswell, but
+Dr. Birkbeck Hill has shown that this was not true. Mr. Stephen
+declares that Johnson's letter "justifies itself," and that no author
+can fail to sympathize with his declaration of literary
+independence.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> From No. 117 of <i>The Rambler.</i></p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> This translation of the passage from Lucretius is
+Dryden's.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="DAVID_HUME" id="DAVID_HUME"></a>DAVID HUME</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1711, died in 1776; educated at Edinburgh; lived in
+France from 1734 to 1737; accompanied Gen. St. Clair on an
+embassy to Vienna and Turin as judge-advocate; appointed
+keeper of the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh in 1752;
+visited France again in 1763; Under-secretary of State in
+1767; published his treatise on "Human Nature" in 1739; his
+"Essays" in 1741; his "Human Understanding" in 1748; his
+"History of England" in 1754-61.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_7" id="I_7"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE CHARACTER OF QUEEN ELIZABETH<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>So dark a cloud overcast the evening of that day, which had shone out
+with a mighty luster in the eyes of all Europe! There are few great
+personages in history who have been more exposed to the calumny of
+enemies and the adulation of friends than Queen Elizabeth; and yet
+there is scarcely any whose reputation has been more certainly
+determined by the unanimous consent of posterity. The unusual length
+of her administration, and the strong features of her character, were
+able to overcome all prejudices; and obliging her detractors to abate
+much of their invectives, and her admirers somewhat of their
+panegyrics, have at last, in spite of political factions, and what is
+more, of religious animosities, produced a uniform judgment with
+regard to her conduct. Her vigor, her constancy, her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>magnanimity, her
+penetration, vigilance, and address are allowed to merit the highest
+praises, and appear not to have been surpassed by any person that ever
+filled a throne: a conduct less rigorous, less imperious, more
+sincere, more indulgent to her people, would have been requisite to
+form a perfect character. By the force of her mind she controlled all
+her more active and stronger qualities, and prevented them from
+running into excess: her heroism was exempt from temerity, her
+frugality from avarice, her friendship from partiality, her active
+temper from turbulency and a vain ambition: she guarded not herself
+with equal care or equal success from lesser infirmities&mdash;the
+rivalship of beauty, the desire of admiration, the jealousy of love,
+and the sallies of anger.</p>
+
+<p>Her singular talents for government were founded equally on her temper
+and on her capacity. Endowed with a great command over herself, she
+soon obtained an uncontrolled ascendent over her people; and while she
+merited all their esteem by her real virtues, she also engaged their
+affections by her pretended ones. Few sovereigns of England succeeded
+to the throne in more difficult circumstances; and none ever conducted
+the government with such uniform success and felicity. Tho
+unacquainted with the practise of toleration&mdash;the true secret for
+managing religious factions&mdash;she preserved her people, by her superior
+prudence, from those confusions in which theological controversy had
+involved all the neighboring nations: and tho her enemies were the
+most powerful princes of Europe, the most active, the most
+enterprising, the least<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> scrupulous, she was able by her vigor to make
+deep impressions on their states; her own greatness meanwhile remained
+untouched and unimpaired.</p>
+
+<p>The wise ministers and brave warriors who flourished under her reign,
+share the praise of her success; but instead of lessening the applause
+due to her, they make great addition to it. They owed, all of them,
+their advancement to her choice; they were supported by her constancy,
+and with all their abilities they were never able to acquire any undue
+ascendant over her. In her family, in her court, in her kingdom, she
+remained equally mistress: the force of the tender passions was great
+over her, but the force of her mind was still superior; and the combat
+which her victory visibly cost her, serves only to display the
+firmness of her resolution, and the loftiness of her ambitious
+sentiments.</p>
+
+<p>The fame of this princess, tho it has surmounted the prejudices both
+of faction and bigotry, yet lies still exposed to another prejudice,
+which is more durable because more natural, and which, according to
+the different views in which we survey her, is capable either of
+exalting beyond measure or diminishing the luster of her character.
+This prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sex. When we
+contemplate her as a woman, we are apt to be struck with the highest
+admiration of her great qualities and extensive capacity; but we are
+also apt to require some more softness of disposition, some greater
+lenity of temper, some of those amiable weaknesses by which her sex is
+distinguished. But the true method of estimating her merit is to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> lay
+aside all these considerations, and consider her merely as a rational
+being placed in authority, and intrusted with the government of
+mankind. We may find it difficult to reconcile our fancy to her as a
+wife or a mistress; but her qualities as a sovereign, tho with some
+considerable exceptions, are the object of undisputed applause and
+approbation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_7" id="II_7"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The Lizard was the first land made by the Armada, about sunset; and as
+the Spaniards took it for the Ramhead near Plymouth, they bore out to
+sea with an intention of returning next day, and attacking the English
+navy. They were descried by Fleming, a Scottish pirate, who was roving
+in those seas, and who immediately set sail to inform the English
+admiral of their approach, another fortunate event which contributed
+extremely to the safety of the fleet. Effingham<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> had just time to
+get out of port, when he saw the Spanish Armada coming full sail
+toward him, disposed in the form of a crescent, and stretching the
+distance of seven miles from the extremity of one division to that of
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>The writers of that age raise their style by a pompous description of
+this spectacle; the most <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>magnificent that had ever appeared upon the
+ocean, infusing equal terror and admiration into the minds of all
+beholders. The lofty masts, the swelling sails, and the towering prows
+of the Spanish galleons seem impossible to be justly painted, but by
+assuming the colors of poetry; and an eloquent historian of Italy, in
+imitation of Camden, has asserted that the Armada, tho the ships bore
+every sail, yet advanced with a slow motion; as if the ocean groaned
+with supporting, and the winds were tired with impelling, so enormous
+a weight. The truth, however, is, that the largest of the Spanish
+vessels would scarcely pass for third rates in the present navy of
+England; yet were they so ill framed or so ill governed, that they
+were quite unwieldy, and could not sail upon a wind, nor tack on
+occasion, nor be managed in stormy weather, by the seamen. Neither the
+mechanics of shipbuilding, nor the experience of mariners, had
+attained so great perfection as could serve for the security and
+government of such bulky vessels; and the English, who had already had
+experience how unserviceable they commonly were, beheld without dismay
+their tremendous appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Effingham gave orders not to come to close fight with the Spaniards;
+where the size of the ships, he inspected, and the numbers of the
+soldiers, would be a disadvantage to the English; but to cannonade
+them at a distance, and to wait the opportunity which winds, currents,
+or various accidents, must afford him, of intercepting some scattered
+vessels of the enemy. Nor was it long before the event answered
+expectation. A great ship of Biscay, on board of which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> was a
+considerable part of the Spanish money, took fire by accident; and
+while all hands were employed in extinguishing the flames, she fell
+behind the rest of the Armada. The great galleon of Andalusia was
+detained by the springing of her mast, and both these vessels were
+taken, after some resistance, by Sir Francis Drake. As the Armada
+advanced up the channel, the English hung upon its rear, and still
+infested it with skirmishes. Each trial abated the confidence of the
+Spaniards, and added courage to the English; and the latter soon
+found, that even in close fight the size of the Spanish ships was no
+advantage to them. Their bulk exposed them the more to the fire of the
+enemy; while their cannon, placed too high, shot over the heads of the
+English. The alarm having now reached the coast of England, the
+nobility and gentry hastened out with their vessels from every harbor,
+and reenforced the admiral. The Earls of Oxford, Northumberland, and
+Cumberland, Sir Thomas Cecil, Sir Robert Cecil, Sir Walter Raleigh,
+Sir Thomas Vavasor, Sir Thomas Gerrard, Sir Charles Blount, with many
+others, distinguished themselves by this generous and disinterested
+service of their country. The English fleet, after the conjunction of
+those ships, amounted to a hundred and forty sail.</p>
+
+<p>The Armada had now reached Calais, and cast anchor before that place
+in expectation that the Duke of Parma, who had gotten intelligence of
+their approach, would put to sea and join his forces to them. The
+English admiral practised here a successful stratagem upon the
+Spaniards. He took eight of his smaller ships, and filling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> them with
+all combustible materials, sent them one after another into the midst
+of the enemy. The Spaniards fancied that they were fireships of the
+same contrivance with a famous vessel which had lately done so much
+execution in the Schelde near Antwerp; and they immediately cut their
+cables, and took to flight with the greatest disorder and
+precipitation. The English fell upon them next morning while in
+confusion; and besides doing great damage to other ships, they took or
+destroyed about twelve of the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>By this time it was become apparent, that the intention for which
+these preparations were made by the Spaniards was entirely frustrated.
+The vessels provided by the Duke of Parma were made for transporting
+soldiers, not for fighting; and that general, when urged to leave the
+harbor, positively refused to expose his flourishing army to such
+apparent hazard; while the English not only were able to keep the sea,
+but seemed even to triumph over their enemy. The Spanish admiral
+found, in many recounters, that while he lost so considerable a part
+of his own navy, he had destroyed only one small vessel of the
+English; and he foresaw that by continuing so unequal a combat, he
+must draw inevitable destruction on all the remainder. He prepared
+therefore to return homeward; but as the wind was contrary to his
+passage through the channel, he resolved to sail northward, and making
+the tour of the island, reach the Spanish harbors by the ocean. The
+English fleet followed him during some time; and had not their
+ammunition fallen short, by the negligence of the officers in
+supplying them, they had obliged the whole Armada<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> to surrender at
+discretion. The Duke of Medina<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> had once taken that resolution; but
+was diverted from it by the advice of his confessor. This conclusion
+of the enterprise would have been more glorious to the English; but
+the event proved almost equally fatal to the Spaniards. A violent
+tempest overtook the Armada after it passed the Orkneys. The ships had
+already lost their anchors, and were obliged to keep to sea. The
+mariners, unaccustomed to such hardships, and not able to govern such
+unwieldy vessels, yielded to the fury of the storm, and allowed their
+ships to drive either on the western isles of Scotland, or on the
+coast of Ireland, where they were miserably wrecked. Not a half of the
+navy returned to Spain; and the seamen as well as soldiers who
+remained were so overcome with hardships and fatigue, and so
+dispirited by their discomfiture, that they filled all Spain with
+accounts of the desperate valor of the English, and of the tempestuous
+violence of that ocean which surrounds them.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III_4" id="III_4"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT</h2>
+
+
+<p>Nothing appears more surprizing to those who consider human affairs
+with a philosophical eye than the easiness with which the many are
+governed by the few; and the implicit submission with which men resign
+their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers. When we
+inquire by what means this wonder is effected, we shall find that as
+Force is always on the side of the governed, the governors have
+nothing to support them but opinion. It is, therefore, on opinion only
+that government is founded; and this maxim extends to the most
+despotic and most military governments, as well as to the most free
+and most popular. The soldan of Egypt, or the emperor of Rome, might
+drive his harmless subjects, like brute beasts, against their
+sentiments and inclination; but he must, at least, have led his
+mamelukes, or pr&aelig;torian bands, like men, by their opinions.</p>
+
+<p>Opinion is of two kinds, to wit, opinion of interest, and opinion of
+right. By opinion of interest, I chiefly understand the sense of the
+general advantage which is reaped from government, together with the
+persuasion that the particular government, which is established, is
+equally advantageous with any other that could easily be settled. When
+this opinion prevails among the generality of a state, or among those
+who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> have the force in their hands, it will give great security to any
+government.</p>
+
+<p>Right is of two kinds, right to Power and right to Property. What
+prevalence opinion of the first kind has over mankind may easily be
+understood by observing the attachment which all nations have to their
+ancient government, and even to those names which have had the
+sanction of antiquity. Antiquity always begets the opinion of right;
+and whatever disadvantageous sentiments we may entertain of mankind,
+they are always found to be prodigal both of blood and treasure in the
+maintenance of public justice. There is, indeed, no particular in
+which, at first sight, there may appear a greater contradiction in the
+frame of the human mind than the present. When men act in a faction,
+they are apt, without shame or remorse, to neglect all the ties of
+honor and morality, in order to serve their party; and yet when a
+faction is formed upon a point of right or principle, there is no
+occasion where men discover a greater obstinacy, and a more determined
+sense of justice and equity. The same social disposition of mankind is
+the cause of these contradictory appearances.</p>
+
+<p>It is sufficiently understood that the opinion of right to property is
+of moment in all matters of government. A noted author has made
+property the foundation of all government; and most of our political
+writers seem inclined to follow him in that particular. This is
+carrying the matter too far; but still it must be owned that the
+opinion of right to property has a great influence in this subject.</p>
+
+<p>Upon these three opinions, therefore, of public<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> interest, of right to
+power, and of right to property, are all governments founded, and all
+authority of the few over the many. There are, indeed, other
+principles, which add force to these, and determine, limit, or alter
+their operation&mdash;such as self-interest, fear, and affection; but still
+we may assert that these other principles can have no influence alone,
+but suppose the antecedent influence of those opinions above
+mentioned. They are, therefore, to be esteemed the secondary, not the
+original principles of government.</p>
+
+<p>For, first, as to self-interest, by which I mean the expectation of
+particular rewards, distinct from the general protection which we
+receive from government, it is evident that the magistrate's authority
+must be antecedently established, at least be hoped for, in order to
+produce this expectation. The prospect of reward may augment his
+authority with regard to some particular persons; but can never give
+birth to it, with regard to the public. Men naturally look for the
+greatest favors from their friends and acquaintance; and, therefore,
+the hopes of any considerable number of the state would never center
+in any particular set of men, if these men had no other title to
+magistracy, and had no separate influence over the opinions of
+mankind. The same observation may be extended to the other two
+principles of fear and affection. No man would have any reason to fear
+the fury of a tyrant, if he had no authority over any but from fear;
+since, as a single man, his bodily force can reach but a small way,
+and all the further power he possesses must be founded either on our
+own opinion, or on the presumed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> opinion of others. And tho affection
+to wisdom and virtue in a sovereign extends very far, and has great
+influence, yet he must antecedently be supposed invested with a public
+character, otherwise the public esteem will serve him in no stead, nor
+will his virtue have any influence beyond a narrow sphere.</p>
+
+<p>A government may endure for several ages, tho the balance of power and
+the balance of property do not coincide. This chiefly happens where
+any rank or order of the state has acquired a large share in the
+property; but, from the original constitution of the government, has
+no share in the power. Under what pretense would any individual of
+that order assume authority in public affairs? As men are commonly
+much attached to their ancient government, it is not to be expected
+that the public would ever favor such usurpations. But where the
+original constitution allows any share of power, tho small, to an
+order of men, who possess a large share of the property, it is easy
+for them gradually to stretch their authority, and bring the balance
+of power to coincide with that of property. This has been the case
+with the House of Commons in England.</p>
+
+<p>Most writers that have treated of the British Government have supposed
+that, as the Lower House represents all the commons of Great Britain,
+its weight in the scale is proportioned to the property and power of
+all whom it represents. But this principle must not be received as
+absolutely true. For tho the people are apt to attach themselves more
+to the House of Commons than to any other member of the constitution,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+the House being chosen by them as their representatives, and as the
+public guardians of their liberty, yet are there instances where the
+House, even when in opposition to the crown, has not been followed by
+the people; as we may particularly observe of the Tory House of
+Commons in the reign of King William. Were the members obliged to
+receive instructions from their constituents, like the Dutch deputies,
+this would entirely alter the case; and if such immense power and
+riches, as those of all the commons of Great Britain, were brought
+into the scale, it is not easy to conceive that the crown could either
+influence that multitude of people, or withstand that balance of
+property. It is true the crown has great influence over the collective
+body in the elections of members; but were this influence, which at
+present is only exerted once in seven years, to be employed in
+bringing over the people to every vote, it would soon be wasted, and
+no skill, popularity, or revenue could support it. I must, therefore,
+be of opinion that an alteration in this particular would introduce a
+total alteration in our government, and would soon reduce it to a pure
+republic&mdash;and, perhaps, to a republic of no inconvenient form. For tho
+the people, collected in a body like the Roman tribes, be quite unfit
+for government, yet, when dispersed in small bodies, they are more
+susceptible both of reason and order; the force of popular currents
+and tides is, in a great measure, broken; and the public interest may
+be pursued with some method and constancy. But it is needless to
+reason any further concerning a form of government which is never
+likely to have place.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> From Chapter 44 of the "History of England."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> From Chapter 42 of the "History of England."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Lord Howard, of Effingham, admiral of the English
+fleet.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> The Duke of Medina-Sidonia commanded the Armada, as
+successor to Santa Cruz, "the ablest seaman of Spain," who had died
+just as the ships were ready to sail. Medina-Sidonia is understood to
+have taken the command reluctantly, as if aware of his unfitness for
+so great a task, as indeed was proved by the event.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="LAURENCE_STERNE" id="LAURENCE_STERNE"></a>LAURENCE STERNE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1713, died in 1768; his father an officer in one of
+Marlborough's regiments; educated at Cambridge, admitted to
+holy orders in 1738; became Prebendary of York, published
+"Tristram Shandy" in 1760; visited France in 1762 and Italy
+in 1765; published "The Sentimental Journey" in 1768, and
+died the same year.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_8" id="I_8"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE STARLING IN CAPTIVITY<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>And as for the Bastile, the terror is in the word. Make the most of it
+you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a
+tower, and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out
+of. Mercy on the gouty! for they are in it twice a year; but with nine
+livres a day, and pen, and ink, and paper, and patience, albeit a man
+can't get out, he may do very well within, at least for a month or six
+weeks; at the end of which, if he is a harmless fellow, his innocence
+appears, and he comes out a better and wiser man than he went in.</p>
+
+<p>I had some occasion&mdash;I forget what&mdash;to step into the courtyard as I
+settled this account; and remember I walked down-stairs in no small
+triumph with the conceit of my reasoning. Beshrew the somber pencil,
+said I vauntingly, for I envy not its powers, which paints the evils
+of life with so hard and deadly a coloring. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>mind sits terrified
+at the objects she has magnified herself and blackened: reduce them to
+their proper size and hue, she overlooks them. "'Tis true," said I,
+correcting the proposition, "the Bastile is not an evil to be
+despised; but strip it of its towers, fill up the fosse, unbarricade
+the doors, call it simply a confinement, and suppose 'tis some tyrant
+of a distemper and not of a man which holds you in it, the evil
+vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint." I was
+interrupted in the heyday of this soliloquy with a voice which I took
+to be of a child, which complained "it could not get out." I looked up
+and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman nor child, I went
+out without further attention.</p>
+
+<p>In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated
+twice over; and looking up I saw it was a starling hung in a little
+cage; "I can't get out, I can't get out," said the starling. I stood
+looking at the bird; and to every person who came through the passage,
+it ran fluttering to the side toward which they approached it, with
+the same lamentation of its captivity: "I can't get out," said the
+starling. "God help thee!" said I, "but I'll let thee out, cost what
+it will"; so I turned about the cage to get the door. It was twisted
+and double-twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open
+without pulling the cage to pieces. I took both hands to it. The bird
+flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and
+thrusting his head through the trellis, prest his breast against it as
+if impatient. "I fear, poor creature," said I, "I can not set thee at
+liberty." "No," said the starling, "I can't get out; I can't get
+out,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> said the starling. I vow I never had my affections more
+tenderly awakened; or do I remember an incident in my life where the
+dissipated spirits, to which my reason had been a bubble, were so
+suddenly called home. Mechanical as the notes were, yet so true in
+tune to nature were they chanted, that in one moment they overthrew
+all my systematic reasonings upon the Bastile; and I heavily walked
+up-stairs, unsaying every word I had said in going down them.</p>
+
+<p>"Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery," said I, "still thou
+art a bitter draft; and tho thousands in all ages have been made to
+drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account. 'Tis thou,
+thrice sweet and gracious goddess," addressing myself to liberty,
+"whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful,
+and ever will be so, till Nature herself shall change; no tint of
+words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chemic power turn thy scepter into
+iron; with thee to smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is
+happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious
+Heaven!" cried I, kneeling down upon the last step but one in my
+ascent, "grant me but health, thou great bestower of it, and give me
+but this fair goddess as my companion, and shower down thy miters, if
+it seem good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are
+aching for them."</p>
+
+<p>The bird in his cage pursued me into my room. I sat down close to my
+table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself
+the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I
+gave full scope to my imagination. I was going to begin with the
+millions of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> fellow creatures born to no inheritance but slavery;
+but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring
+it near me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but
+distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in
+his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to
+take his picture. I beheld his body half-wasted away with long
+expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the
+heart it was which arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer I
+saw him pale and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not
+once fanned his blood; he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time,
+nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice;
+his children&mdash;but here my heart began to bleed, and I was forced to go
+on with another part of the portrait. He was sitting upon the ground
+upon a little straw, in the furthest corner of his dungeon, which was
+alternately his chair and bed; a little calendar of small sticks lay
+at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had
+passed there; he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with
+a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap.
+As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye
+toward the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with
+his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turned
+his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh:
+I saw the iron enter into his soul. I burst into tears: I could not
+sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_8" id="II_8"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>TO MOULINES WITH MARIA<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>When Maria had come a little to herself, I asked her if she remembered
+a pale thin person of a man who had sat down betwixt her and her goat
+about two years before? She said she was unsettled much at that time,
+but remembered it upon two accounts; that, ill as she was, she saw the
+person pitied her: and next, that her goat had stolen his
+handkerchief, and that she had beat him for the theft. "She had washed
+it," she said, "in the brook, and kept it ever since in her pocket to
+restore it to him in case she should ever see him again, which," she
+added, "he had half promised her."</p>
+
+<p>As she told me this, she took the handkerchief out of her pocket to
+let me see it: she had folded it up neatly in a couple of vine-leaves,
+tied around with a tendril: on opening it, I saw an S. marked in one
+of the corners.</p>
+
+<p>She had since that, she told me, strayed as far as Rome, and walked
+around St. Peter's once, and returned back: that she found her way
+alone across the Apennines, had traveled over all Lombardy without
+money, and through the flinty roads of Savoy without shoes: how she
+had borne it, and how she had got supported she could not tell: "But,
+'God tempers the wind,'" said Maria, "'to the shorn lamb.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Shorn, indeed, and to the quick," said I: <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>"and wast thou in my own
+land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it, and shelter
+thee; thou shouldst eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup: I
+would be kind to thy Sylvio; in all thy weaknesses and wanderings I
+would seek after thee, and bring thee back; when the sun went down, I
+would say my prayers; and when I had done, thou shouldst play thy
+evening song upon thy pipe, nor would the incense of my sacrifice be
+worse accepted for entering heaven along with that of a broken heart!"</p>
+
+<p>Nature melted within me as I uttered this: and Maria observing, as I
+took out my handkerchief, that it was steeped too much already to be
+of use, would needs go wash it in the stream. "And where will you dry
+it, Maria?" said I.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll dry it in my bosom," said she: "'twill do me good."</p>
+
+<p>"And is your heart still so warm, Maria?" said I.</p>
+
+<p>I touched upon a string on which hung all her sorrows: she looked with
+wistful disorder for some time in my face; and then, without saying
+anything, took her pipe, and played her service to the Virgin. The
+string I had touched ceased to vibrate; in a moment or two, Maria
+returned to herself, let her pipe fall, and rose up.</p>
+
+<p>"And where are you going, Maria?" said I.</p>
+
+<p>She said, "To Moulines."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us go," said I, "together."</p>
+
+<p>Maria put her arm within mine, and lengthening the string to let the
+dog follow, in that order we entered Moulines.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III_5" id="III_5"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DEATH OF LE FEVRE<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>"In a fortnight or three weeks," added my uncle Toby, smiling, "he
+might march."</p>
+
+<p>"He will never march, an' please your Honor, in this world," said the
+Corporal.</p>
+
+<p>"He will march," said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the
+bed with one shoe off.</p>
+
+<p>"An' please your Honor," said the Corporal, "he will never march but
+to his grave."</p>
+
+<p>"He shall march," cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a
+shoe on, tho without advancing an inch&mdash;"he shall march to his
+regiment."</p>
+
+<p>"He can not stand it," said the Corporal.</p>
+
+<p>"He shall be supported," said my uncle Toby.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll drop at last," said the Corporal, "and what will become of his
+body?"</p>
+
+<p>"He shall not drop," said my uncle Toby firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well&mdash;a&mdash;day!&mdash;do what we can for him," said Trim, maintaining
+his point, "the poor soul will die."</p>
+
+<p>"He shall not die, by G&mdash;," cried my uncle Toby.</p>
+
+<p>The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath,
+blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel, as he wrote it
+down, dropt a tear upon the word, and blotted it out forever.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p>
+<p>My uncle Toby went to his bureau, put his purse into his
+breeches-pocket, and, having ordered the Corporal to go early in the
+morning for a physician, he went to bed and fell asleep. The sun
+looked bright the morning after to every eye in the village but to Le
+Fevre's and his afflicted son's; the hand of death prest heavy upon
+his eyelids; and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its
+circle, when my uncle Toby, who had rose up an hour before his wonted
+time, entered the Lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology,
+sat himself down upon the chair by the bedside, and independently of
+all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend
+and brother-officer would have done it, and asked him how he did, how
+he had rested in the night, what was his complaint, where was his
+pain, and what he could do to help him; and without giving him time to
+answer any one of these inquiries, went on, and told him of the little
+plan which he had been concerting with Corporal the night before for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall go home directly, Le Fevre," said my uncle Toby, "to my
+house, and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter: and we'll
+have an apothecary; and the Corporal shall be your nurse; and I'll be
+your servant, Le Fevre."</p>
+
+<p>There was a frankness in my uncle Toby, not the effect of familiarity,
+but the cause of it, which let you at once into his soul, and showed
+you the goodness of his nature. To this, there was something in his
+looks, and voice, and manner, super-added, which eternally beckoned to
+the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that, before my
+uncle Toby had half finished the kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> offers he was making to the
+father, had the son insensibly prest up close to his knees, and had
+taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it toward him.
+The blood and spirits of Le Fevre, which were waxing cold and slow
+within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart,
+rallied back, the film forsook his eyes for a moment; he looked up
+wishfully in my uncle Toby's face; then cast a look upon his boy; and
+that ligament, fine as it was, was never broken.</p>
+
+<p>Nature instantly ebbed again; the film returned to its place; the
+pulse fluttered, stopt, went on, throbbed, stopt again, moved, stopt.
+Shall I go on? No.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV_2" id="IV_2"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>PASSAGES FROM THE ROMANCE OF MY UNCLE TOBY AND THE WIDOW<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Now, as Widow Wadman did love my uncle Toby, and my uncle Toby did not
+love Widow Wadman, there was nothing for Widow Wadman to do, but to go
+on and love my uncle Toby&mdash;or let it alone.</p>
+
+<p>Widow Wadman would do neither the one nor the other....</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the Corporal had finished the story of his amour&mdash;or rather
+my uncle Toby for him&mdash;Mrs. Wadman silently sallied forth from her
+arbor, replaced the pin in her mob, passed the wicker-gate, and
+advanced slowly toward my uncle Toby's sentry-box; the disposition
+which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>Trim had made in my uncle Toby's mind was too favorable a
+crisis to be let slipt.</p>
+
+<p>The attack was determined upon: it was facilitated still more by my
+uncle Toby's having ordered the Corporal to wheel off the pioneer's
+shovel, the spade, the pickax, the piquets, and other military stores
+which lay scattered upon the ground where Dunkirk stood. The Corporal
+had marched; the field was clear.</p>
+
+<p>Now, consider, sir, what nonsense it is, either in fighting or
+writing, or anything else (whether in rime to it or not) which a man
+has occasion to do, to act by plan: for if ever Plan, independent of
+all circumstances, deserved registering in letters of gold (I mean in
+the archives of Gotham) it was certainly the Plan of Mrs. Wadman's
+attack of my uncle Toby in his sentry-box, by Plan. Now, the plan
+hanging up in it at this juncture, being the Plan of Dunkirk, and the
+tale of Dunkirk a tale of relaxation, it opposed every impression she
+could make: and, besides, could she have gone upon it, the maneuver of
+fingers and hands in the attack of the sentry-box was so outdone by
+that of the fair Beguine's, in Trim's story, that just then, that
+particular attack, however successful before, became the most
+heartless attack that could be made.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! let woman alone for this. Mrs. Wadman had scarce opened the
+wicker-gate, when her genius sported with the change of circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>She formed a new attack in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I am half distracted, Captain Shandy," said Mrs. Wadman, holding up
+her cambric handkerchief to her left eye, as she approached the door
+of my uncle Toby's sentry-box; "a mote, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> sand, or something I know
+not what, has got into this eye of mine; do look into it; it is not in
+the white."</p>
+
+<p>In saying which, Mrs. Wadman edged herself close in beside my uncle
+Toby, and squeezing herself down upon the corner of his bench, she
+gave him an opportunity of doing it without rising up. "Do look into
+it," said she.</p>
+
+<p>Honest soul! thou didst look into it with as much innocency of heart
+as ever child looked into a raree show-box; and 'twere as much a sin
+to have hurt thee.</p>
+
+<p>If a man will be peeping of his own accord into things of that nature,
+I've nothing to say to it.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle Toby never did: and I will answer for him, that he would have
+sat quietly upon a sofa from June to January (which, you know, takes
+in both the hot and cold months) with an eye as fine as the Thracian
+Rhodope's beside him, without being able to tell whether it was a
+black or a blue one.</p>
+
+<p>The difficulty was, to get my uncle Toby to look at one at all.</p>
+
+<p>'Tis surmounted. And&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>I see him yonder, with his pipe pendulous in his hand, and the ashes
+falling out of it, looking and looking, then rubbing his eyes, and
+looking again, with twice the good nature that ever Galileo looked for
+a spot in the sun.</p>
+
+<p>In vain! for, by all the powers which animate the organ, Widow
+Wadman's left eye shines this moment as lucid as her right; there is
+neither mote, nor sand, nor dust, nor chaff, nor speck, nor particle
+of opaque matter floating in it. There is nothing, my dear paternal
+uncle! but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> one lambent delicious fire, furtively shooting out from
+every part of it, in all directions into thine.</p>
+
+<p>If thou lookest, Uncle Toby, in search of this mote one moment longer,
+thou art undone.</p>
+
+<p>An eye is, for all the world, exactly like a cannon, in this respect,
+that it is not so much the eye or the cannon, in themselves, as it is
+the carriage of the eye and the carriage of the cannon; by which both
+the one and the other are enabled to do so much execution. I don't
+think the comparison a bad one; however, as 'tis made and placed at
+the head of the chapter, as much for use as ornament, all I desire in
+return is, that whenever I speak of Mrs. Wadman's eyes (except once in
+the next period) that you keep it in your fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"I protest, madam," said my uncle Toby, "I can see nothing whatever in
+your eye."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not in the white," said Mrs. Wadman. My uncle Toby looked with
+might and main into the pupil.</p>
+
+<p>Now, of all the eyes which ever were created, from your own, madam, up
+to those of Venus herself, which certainly were as venereal a pair of
+eyes as ever stood in a head, there never was an eye of them all so
+fitted to rob my uncle Toby of his repose as the very eye at which he
+was looking; it was not, madam, a rolling eye, a romping, or a wanton
+one; nor was it an eye sparkling, petulant, or imperious, of high
+claims and terrifying expectations, which would have curdled at once
+that milk of human nature, of which my uncle Toby was made up; but
+'twas an eye full of gentle salutations and soft responses, speaking,
+not like the trumpet-stop of some ill-made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> organ, in which many an
+eye I talk to holds coarse converse, but whispering soft, like that
+last low accent of an expiring saint, "How can you live comfortless,
+Captain Shandy, and alone, without a bosom to lean your head on&mdash;or
+trust your cares to?"</p>
+
+<p>It was an eye&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another word about it.</p>
+
+<p>It did my uncle Toby's business....</p>
+
+<p>The world is ashamed of being virtuous. My uncle Toby knew little of
+the world; and therefore, when he felt he was in love with Widow
+Wadman, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a
+mystery of than if Mrs. Wadman had given him a cut with a gap'd knife
+across his finger. Had it been otherwise&mdash;yet, as he ever looked upon
+Trim as a humbler friend, and saw fresh reasons every day of his life
+to treat him as such&mdash;it would have made no variation in the manner in
+which he informed him of the affair.</p>
+
+<p>"I am in love, Corporal!" quoth my uncle Toby....</p>
+
+<p>Tho the Corporal had been as good as his word in putting my uncle
+Toby's great Ramillies wig into pipes, yet the time was too short to
+produce any great effects from it; it had lain many years squeezed up
+in the corner of his old campaign-trunk; and as bad forms are not so
+easy to be got the better of, and the use of candle-ends not so well
+understood, it was not so pliable a business as one would have wished.
+The Corporal, with cheery eye and both arms extended, had fallen back
+perpendicular from it a score<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> times, to inspire it, if possible, with
+a better air:&mdash;had Spleen given a look at it, 'twould have cost her
+ladyship a smile; it curled everywhere but where the Corporal would
+have it; and where a buckle or two, in his opinion, would have done it
+honor, he could as soon have raised the dead.</p>
+
+<p>Such it was, or rather, such would it have seemed upon any other brow;
+but the sweet look of goodness which sat upon my uncle Toby's
+assimilated everything around it so sovereignly to itself, and Nature
+had, moreover, wrote gentleman with so fair a hand in every line of
+his countenance, that even his tarnished gold-laced hat and huge
+cockade of flimsy taffeta became him; and, tho not worth a button in
+themselves, yet the moment my uncle Toby put them on, they became
+serious objects, and, altogether, seemed to have been picked up by the
+hand of Science to set him off to advantage.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing, in this world could have cooperated more powerfully toward
+this than my uncle Toby's blue and gold, had not Quantity, in some
+measure, been necessary to grace. In a period of fifteen or sixteen
+years since they had been made, by a total inactivity in my uncle
+Toby's life (for he seldom went further than the bowling green), his
+blue and gold had become so miserably too straight for him that it was
+with the utmost difficulty the Corporal was able to get him into them;
+the taking up at the sleeves was of no advantage; they were laced,
+however, down the back, and at the seams of the sides, etc., in the
+mode of King William's reign; and to shorten all description, they
+shone so bright against the sun that morning, and had so metallic and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+doughty an air with them, that, had my uncle Toby thought of attacking
+in armor, nothing could have so well imposed upon his imagination.</p>
+
+<p>As for the thin scarlet breeches, they had been unripped by the tailor
+between the legs, and left at sixes and sevens.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, madam; but let us govern our fancies. It is enough they were held
+impracticable the night before; and, as there was no alternative in my
+uncle Toby's wardrobe, he sallied forth in the red plush.</p>
+
+<p>The Corporal had arrayed himself in poor Le Fevre's regimental coat;
+and with his hair tucked up under his Montero-cap, which he had
+furbished up for the occasion, marched three paces distant from his
+master; a whiff of military pride had puffed out his shirt at the
+wrist; and upon that, in a black leather thong clipt into a tassel
+beyond the knot, hung the Corporal's stick. My uncle Toby carried his
+cane like a pike.</p>
+
+<p>"It looks well, at least," quoth my father to himself....</p>
+
+<p>When my uncle Toby and the Corporal had marched down to the bottom of
+the avenue, they recollected their business lay the other way; so they
+faced about, and marched up straight to Mrs. Wadman's door.</p>
+
+<p>"I warrant your Honor," said the Corporal, touching his Montero-cap
+with his hand as he passed him in order to give a knock at the door.
+My uncle Toby, contrary to his invariable way of treating his faithful
+servant, said nothing good or bad; the truth was, he had not
+altogether marshaled his ideas; he wished for another conference, and,
+as the Corporal was mounting up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> the three steps before the door, he
+hem'd twice; a portion of my uncle Toby's most modest spirits fled, at
+each expulsion, toward the Corporal; he stood with the rapper of the
+door suspended for a full minute in his hand, he scarce knew why.
+Bridget stood perdue within, with her finger and her thumb upon the
+latch, benumbed with expectation; and Mrs. Wadman, with an eye ready
+to be deflowered again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of
+her bed-chamber, watching their approach.</p>
+
+<p>"Trim!" said my uncle Toby; but, as he articulated the word, the
+minute expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle Toby, perceiving that all hopes of a conference were knocked
+on the head by it, whistled Lillabullero.</p>
+
+<p>As Mrs. Bridget opened the door before the Corporal had well given the
+rap, the interval betwixt that and my uncle Toby's introduction into
+the parlor was so short that Mrs. Wadman had but just time to get from
+behind the curtain, lay a Bible upon the table, and advance a step or
+two toward the door to receive him.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle Toby saluted Mrs. Wadman, after the manner in which women
+were saluted by men in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred
+and thirteen; then facing about, he marched up abreast with her to the
+sofa, and in three plain words, tho not before he was sat down, nor
+after he was sat down, but as he was sitting down, told her, "he was
+in love"; so that my uncle Toby strained himself more in the
+declaration than he needed.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wadman naturally looked down upon a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> slit she had been darning up
+in her apron, in expectation every moment that my uncle Toby would go
+on; but having no talents for amplification, and Love, moreover, of
+all others, being a subject of which he was the least a master, when
+he had told Mrs. Wadman once that he loved her, he let it alone, and
+left the matter to work after its own way.</p>
+
+<p>My father was always in raptures with this system of my uncle Toby's,
+as he falsely called it, and would often say, That could his brother
+Toby to his process have added but a pipe of tobacco, he had
+wherewithal to have his way, if there was faith in a Spanish proverb,
+toward the hearts of half the women upon the globe.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle Toby never understood what my father meant; nor will I
+presume to extract more from it than a condemnation of an error which
+the bulk of the world lie under; but the French, every one of them to
+a man, who believe in it almost as much as the Real Presence, "That
+talking of love is making it."</p>
+
+<p>I would as soon set about making a black pudding by the same receipt.</p>
+
+<p>Let us go on: Mrs. Wadman sat in expectation my uncle Toby would do
+so, to almost the first pulsation of that minute, wherein silence on
+one side or the other generally becomes indecent; so edging herself a
+little more toward him, and raising up her eyes, sub-blushing as she
+did it, she took up the gantlet, or the discourse (if you like it
+better), and communed with my uncle Toby thus:</p>
+
+<p>"The cares and disquietudes of the marriage-state," quoth Mrs. Wadman,
+"are very great."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," said my uncle Toby.</p>
+
+<p>"And therefore when a person," continued Mrs. Wadman, "is so much at
+his ease as you are, so happy, Captain Shandy, in yourself, your
+friends, and your amusements, I wonder what reasons can incline you to
+the state?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are written," quoth my uncle Toby, "in the Common Prayer-Book."</p>
+
+<p>Thus far my uncle Toby went on warily, and kept within his depth,
+leaving Mrs. Wadman to sail upon the gulf as she pleased.</p>
+
+<p>"As for children," said Mrs. Wadman, "tho a principal end, perhaps, of
+the institution, and the natural wish, I suppose, of every parent, yet
+do not we all find that they are certain sorrows, and very uncertain
+comforts? and what is there, dear sir, to pay one for the heart-aches,
+what compensation for the many tender and disquieting apprehensions of
+a suffering and defenseless mother who brings them into life?"</p>
+
+<p>"I declare," said my uncle Toby, smitten with pity, "I know of none:
+unless it be the pleasure which it has pleased God ..."</p>
+
+<p>"A fiddlestick!" quoth she....</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> From the "Sentimental Journey."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> From the "Sentimental Journey."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> From "Tristram Shandy."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> From "Tristram Shandy."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THOMAS_GRAY" id="THOMAS_GRAY"></a>THOMAS GRAY</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1716, died in 1771; educated at Eton, where he began
+a lifelong friendship with Horace Walpole; traveled on the
+Continent with Walpole in 1739; settled in Cambridge in
+1741, where in 1768 he was made professor of Modern History;
+refused the laureateship in 1757; published his "Elegy
+Written in a Country Churchyard" in 1751; his poems and
+letters collected by Mason in 1775.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_9" id="I_9"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>WARWICK CASTLE<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have been at Warwick, which is a place worth seeing. The town is on
+an eminence surrounded every way with a fine cultivated valley,
+through which the Avon winds, and at the distance of five or six
+miles, a circle of hills, well wooded, and with various objects
+crowning them, that close the prospect. Out of the town on one side of
+it, rises a rock that might remind one of your rocks at Durham, but
+that it is not so savage, or so lofty, and that the river, which,
+washes its foot, is perfectly clear, and so gentle, that its current
+is hardly visible. Upon it stands the castle, the noble old residence
+of the Beauchamps and Nevilles, and now of Earl Brooke. He has sash'd
+the great apartment that's to be sure (I can't help these things), and
+being since told, that square sash-windows were not Gothic, he has put
+certain whim-whams within side the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>glass, which appearing through are
+to look like fret-work. Then he has scooped out a little burrow in the
+massy walls of the place for his little self and his children, which
+is hung with paper and printed linen, and carved chimney-pieces, in
+the exact manner of Berkley Square or Argyle buildings. What in short
+can a lord do nowadays, that is lost in a great old solitary castle,
+but skulk about, and get into the first hole he finds, as a rat would
+do in like case.</p>
+
+<p>A pretty long old stone bridge leads you into the town with a mill at
+the end of it, over which the rock rises with the castle upon it with
+all its battlements and queer ruined towers, and on your left hand the
+Avon strays through the park, whose ancient elms seem to remember Sir
+Philip Sidney, who often walk'd under them, and talk of him to this
+day. The Beauchamp Earls of Warwick lie under stately monuments in the
+choir of the great church, and in our lady's chapel adjoining to it.
+There also lie Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick; and his brother, the
+famous Lord Leicester, with Lettice, his countess. This chapel is
+preserved entire, tho the body of the church was burned down sixty
+years ago, and rebuilt by Sir C. Wren.</p>
+
+<p>I had heard often of Guy-Cliff, two miles from the town; so I walked
+to see it, and of all improvers commend me to Mr. Greathead, its
+present owner. He shew'd it me himself, and is literally a fat young
+man with a head and face much bigger than they are usually worn. It
+was naturally a very agreeable rock, whose cliffs cover'd with large
+trees hung beetling over the Avon, which twists twenty ways in sight
+of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> There was the cell of Guy, Earl of Warwick, cut in the living
+stone, where he died a hermit (as you may see in a penny history, that
+hangs upon the rails in Moorfields). There were his fountains bubbling
+out of the cliff; there was a chantry founded to his memory in Henry
+the Sixth's time. But behold the trees are cut down to make room for
+flowering shrubs; the rock is cut up, till it is as smooth and as
+sleek as satin; the river has a gravel-walk by its side; the cell is a
+grotto with cockle-shells and looking glass; the fountains have an
+iron gate before them, and the chantry is a barn, or a little house.
+Even the poorest bite of nature that remain are daily threatened, for
+he says (and I am sure, when the Greatheads are once set upon a thing,
+they will do it) he is determined it shall be all new. These were his
+words, and they are fate.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_9" id="II_9"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>TO HIS FRIEND MASON ON THE DEATH OF MASON'S MOTHER<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I break in upon you at a moment when we least of all are permitted to
+disturb our friends, only to say that you are daily and hourly present
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>to my thoughts. If the worst be not yet passed, you will neglect and
+pardon me; but if the last struggle be over, if the poor object of
+your long anxieties be no longer sensible to your kindness, or to her
+own sufferings, allow me (at least in idea, for what could I do were I
+present more than this), to sit by you in silence, and pity from my
+heart, not her who is at rest, but you who lose her. May He who made
+us, the Master of our pleasures and of our pains, preserve and support
+you. Adieu.</p>
+
+<p>I have long understood how little you had to hope.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_6" id="III_6"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>ON HIS OWN WRITINGS<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>To your friendly accusation I am glad I can plead not guilty with a
+safe conscience. Dodsley told me in the Spring that the plates from
+Mr. Bentley's designs were worn out, and he wanted to have them copied
+and reduced to a smaller scale for a new edition. I dissuaded him from
+so silly an expense, and desired he would put in no ornaments at all.
+The "Long Story" was to be totally omitted, as its only use (that of
+explaining the prints) was gone: but to supply the place of it in
+bulk, lest my works should be mistaken for the works of a flea, or a
+pismire, I promised to send him an equal weight of poetry or prose:
+so, since my return hither, I put up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>about two ounces of stuff, viz.,
+the "Fatal Sisters," the "Descent of Odin" (of both which you have
+copies), a bit of something from the Welch, and certain little Notes,
+partly from justice (to acknowledge the debt where I had borrowed
+anything), partly from ill temper, just to tell the gentle reader that
+Edward I was not Oliver Cromwell, nor Queen Elizabeth the Witch of
+Endor. This is literally all; and with all this, I shall be but a
+shrimp of an author. I gave leave also to print the same thing at
+Glasgow; but I doubt my packet has miscarried, for I hear nothing of
+its arrival as yet.</p>
+
+<p>To what you say to me so civilly, that I ought to write more, I reply
+in your own words (like the Pamphleteer, who is going to confute you
+out of your own mouth), What has one to do when turned of fifty, but
+really to think of finishing? However, I will be candid (for you seem
+to be so with me), and avow to you, that till four-score-and-ten,
+whenever the humor takes me, I will write, because I like it; and
+because I like myself better when I do so. If I do not write much, it
+is because I can not. As you have not this last plea, I see no reason
+why you should not continue as long as it is agreeable to yourself,
+and to all such as have any curiosity or judgment in the subject you
+choose to treat. By the way let me tell you (while it is fresh) that
+Lord Sandwich, who was lately dining at Cambridge, speaking (as I am
+told) handsomely of your book, said, it was pity you did not know that
+his cousin Manchester had a genealogy of Kings, which came down no
+lower than to Richard III, and at the end of it were two portraits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> of
+Richard and his son, in which that king appeared to be a handsome man.
+I tell you it as I heard it; perhaps you may think it worth inquiring
+into....</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Boswell's book<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> I was going to recommend to you, when I
+received your letter: it has pleased and moved me strangely, all (I
+mean) that relates to Paoli. He is a man born two thousand years after
+his time! The pamphlet proves what I have always maintained, that any
+fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us
+what he heard and saw with veracity. Of Mr. Boswell's truth I have not
+the least suspicion, because I am sure he could invent nothing of this
+kind. The true title of this part of his work is, a Dialogue between a
+Green-Goose and a Hero.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV_3" id="IV_3"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>HIS FRIENDSHIP FOR BONSTETTEN<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Never did I feel, my dear Bonstetten, to what a tedious length the few
+short moments of our life may be extended by impatience and
+expectation, till you had left me; nor ever knew before with so strong
+a conviction how much this frail body sympathizes with the inquietude
+of the mind. I am grown old in the compass of less <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>than three weeks,
+like the Sultan in the Turkish tales, that did but plunge his head
+into a vessel of water and take it out again, as the standers by
+affirmed, at the command of a Dervish, and found he had passed many
+years in captivity, and begot a large family of children.</p>
+
+<p>The strength and spirits that now enable me to write to you, are only
+owing to your last letter a temporary gleam of sunshine. Heaven knows
+when it may shine again! I did not conceive till now, I own, what it
+was to lose you, nor felt the solitude and insipidity of my own
+condition before I possest the happiness of your friendship. I must
+cite another Greek writer to you, because it is much to my purpose; he
+is describing the character of a genius truly inclined to philosophy.
+"It includes," he says, "qualifications rarely united in one single
+mind, quickness of apprehension and a retentive memory, vivacity and
+application, gentleness and magnanimity"; to these he adds an
+invincible love of truth, and consequently of probity and justice.
+"Such a soul," continues he, "will be little inclined to sensual
+pleasures, and consequently temperate; a stranger to illiberality and
+avarice; being accustomed to the most extensive views of things, and
+sublimest contemplations, it will contract an habitual greatness, will
+look down with a kind of disregard on human life and on death;
+consequently, will possess the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>truest fortitude. Such," says he, "is
+the mind born to govern the rest of mankind."</p>
+
+<p>But these very endowments, so necessary to a soul formed for
+philosophy, are often its ruin, especially when joined to the external
+advantages of wealth, nobility, strength, and beauty; that is, if it
+light on a bad soil, and want its proper nurture, which nothing but an
+excellent education can bestow. In this case he is depraved by the
+public example, the assemblies of the people, the courts of justice,
+the theaters, that inspire it with false opinions, terrify it with
+false infamy, or elevate it with false applause; and remember, that
+extraordinary vices and extraordinary virtues are equally the produce
+of a vigorous mind: little souls are alike incapable of the one and
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>If you have ever met with the portrait sketched out by Plato, you will
+know it again: for my part, to my sorrow I have had that happiness. I
+see the principal features, and I foresee the dangers with a trembling
+anxiety. But enough of this, I return to your letter. It proves at
+least, that in the midst of your new gaieties I still hold some place
+in your memory, and, what pleases me above all, it had an air of
+undissembled sincerity. Go on, my best and amiable friend, to shew me
+your heart simply and without the shadow of disguise, and leave me to
+weep over it, as I now do, no matter whether from joy or sorrow.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> From a letter to Thomas Wharton, dated "Stoke Pogis,
+September 18, 1754."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Written on March 28, 1767. The tenderness of this brief
+letter of condolence will recall the inscription which Gray placed on
+the tomb of his own mother in Stoke Pogis church-yard&mdash;the tomb in
+which he himself was afterward buried "She was the careful, tender
+mother of many children," says the inscription, "only one of whom had
+the misfortune to survive her."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> From a letter to Horace Walpole, dated "Pembroke
+College, February 25, 1768."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> This refers to Boswell's visit to Corsica in 1766. The
+book he wrote was his "Journal of a Tour to Corsica, with Memoirs of
+Pascal Paoli."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> From a letter to Bonstetten, dated "Cambridge, April 12,
+1770." Bonstetten was a Swiss philosopher and essayist who had formed
+a close friendship with Gray and many other eminent English men of
+culture. Bonstetten left England in March of the year in which this
+letter was written, Gray going with him as far as London, where he
+pointed out in the street the "great bear," Samuel Johnson, and saw
+Bonstetten safely into a coach bound for Dover.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HORACE_WALPOLE" id="HORACE_WALPOLE"></a>HORACE WALPOLE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1717, died in 1797; third son of Sir Robert Walpole,
+the Prime Minister; educated at Eton and Cambridge; traveled
+with Thomas Gray in 1739-41; entered Parliament in 1741;
+settled at Strawberry Hill in 1747; made fourth Earl of
+Orford in 1791; author of many books, but best known now for
+his letters.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_10" id="I_10"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>HOGARTH<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Hogarth was born in the parish of St. Bartholomew, London, the son of
+a low tradesman, who bound him to a mean engraver of arms on plate;
+but before his time was expired he felt the impulse of genius, and
+felt it directed him to painting, tho little apprized at that time of
+the mode nature had intended he should pursue. His apprenticeship was
+no sooner expired than he entered into the academy in St. Martin's
+Lane, and studied drawing from the life, in which he never attained to
+great excellence. It was character, the passions, the soul, that his
+genius was given him to copy. In coloring he proved no greater a
+master; his force lay in expression, not in tints and chiaroscuro. At
+first he worked for booksellers, and designed and engraved plates for
+several books; and, which is extraordinary, no symptom of genius
+dawned in those plates. His "Hudibras" was the first of his works that
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>marked him as a man above the common; yet what made him then noticed
+now surprizes us, to find so little humor in an undertaking so
+congenial to his talents. On the success, however, of those plates, he
+commenced painter, a painter of portraits: the most ill-suited
+employment imaginable to a man whose turn certainly was not flattery,
+nor his talent adapted to look on vanity without a sneer. Yet his
+facility in catching a likeness, and the methods he chose of painting
+families and conversations in small, then a novelty, drew him
+prodigious business for some time. It did not last: either from his
+applying to the real bent of his disposition, or from his customers
+apprehending that a satirist was too formidable a confessor for the
+devotees of self-love. He had already dropt a few of his smaller
+prints on some reigning follies; but as the dates are wanting on most
+of them, I can not ascertain which, tho those on the South Sea and
+"Rabbit Woman" prove that he had early discovered his talent for
+ridicule, tho he did not then think of building his reputation or
+fortune on its powers.</p>
+
+<p>His "Midnight Modern Conversation" was the first work that showed his
+command of character; but it was "The Harlot's Progress," published in
+1729 or 1730, that established his fame. The pictures were scarce
+finished, and no sooner exhibited to the public, and the subscription
+opened, than above twelve hundred names were entered on his book. The
+familiarity of the subject and the propriety of the execution made it
+tasted by all ranks of people. Every engraver set himself to copy it,
+and thousands of imitations were dispersed all over the kingdom. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+was made into a pantomime, and performed on the stage. The "Rake's
+Progress," perhaps superior, had not so much success, from want of
+novelty; nor, indeed, is the print of "The Arrest" equal in merit to
+the others.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain was now drawn aside, and his genius stood displayed in its
+full luster. From time to time he continued to give those works that
+should be immortal, if the nature of his art will allow it. Even the
+receipts for his subscriptions had wit in them. Many of his plates he
+engraved himself, and often expunged faces etched by his assistants
+when they had not done justice to his ideas.</p>
+
+<p>Not content with shining in a path untrodden before, he was ambitious
+of distinguishing himself as a painter of history. But not only his
+coloring and drawing rendered him unequal to the task; the genius that
+had entered so feelingly into the calamities and crimes of familiar
+life deserted him in a walk that called for dignity and grace. The
+burlesque turn of his mind mixt itself with the most serious subjects.
+In his "Dana&euml;," the old nurse tries a coin of the golden shower with
+her teeth to see if it is true gold; in the "Pool of Bethesda," a
+servant of a rich ulcerated lady beats back a poor man that sought the
+same celestial remedy. Both circumstances are justly thought, but
+rather too ludicrous. It is a much more capital fault that "Dana&euml;"
+herself is a mere nymph of Drury. He seems to have conceived no higher
+idea of beauty.</p>
+
+<p>So little had he eyes to his own deficiencies, that he believed he had
+discovered the principle of grace. With the enthusiasm of a
+discoverer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> he cried, "Eureka!" This was his famous line of beauty,
+the groundwork of his "Analysis," a book that has many sensible hints
+and observations, but that did not carry the conviction nor meet the
+universal acquiescence he expected. As he treated his contemporaries
+with scorn, they triumphed over this publication, and imitated him to
+expose him. Many wretched burlesque prints came out to ridicule his
+system. There was a better answer to it in one of the two prints that
+he gave to illustrate his hypothesis. In "The Ball," had he confined
+himself to such outlines as compose awkwardness and deformity, he
+would have proved half his assertion; but he has added two samples of
+grace in a young lord and lady that are strikingly stiff and affected.
+They are a Bath beau and a country beauty.</p>
+
+<p>But this was the failing of a visionary. He fell afterward into a
+grosser mistake. From a contempt of the ignorant virtuosi of the age,
+and from indignation at the impudent tricks of picture-dealers, whom
+he saw continually recommending and vending vile copies to bubble
+collectors, and from having never studied, indeed having seen, few
+good pictures of the great Italian masters, he persuaded himself that
+the praises bestowed on those glorious works were nothing but the
+effects of prejudice. He talked this language till he believed it; and
+having heard it often asserted, as is true, that time gives a
+mellowness to colors and improves them, he not only denied the
+proposition, but maintained that pictures only grew black and worse by
+age, not distinguishing between the degrees in which the proposition
+might be true or false. He went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> further; he determined to rival the
+ancients, and unfortunately chose one of the finest pictures in
+England as the object of his compensation. This was the celebrated
+"Sigismonda" of Sir Luke Schaub, now in the possession of the Duke of
+Newcastle, said to be painted by Correggio, probably by Furino, but no
+matter by whom. It is impossible to see the picture, or read Dryden's
+inimitable tale, and not feel that the same soul animated both. After
+many essays Hogarth at last produced his "Sigismonda," but no more
+like "Sigismonda" than I to Hercules. Hogarth's performance was more
+ridiculous than anything he had ever ridiculed. He set the price of
+&pound;400 on it, and had it returned on his hands by the person for whom it
+was painted. He took subscriptions for a plate of it, but had the
+sense at last to suppress it. I make no more apology for this account
+than for the encomiums I have bestowed on him. Both are dictated by
+truth, and are the history of a great man's excellences and errors.
+Milton, it is said, preferred his "Paradise Regained" to his immortal
+poem.</p>
+
+<p>The last memorable event of our artist's life was his quarrel with Mr.
+Wilkes; in which, if Mr. Hogarth did not commence direct hostilities
+on the latter, he at least obliquely gave the first offense by an
+attack on the friends and party of that gentleman. This conduct was
+the more surprizing, as he had all his life avoided dipping his pencil
+in political contests, and had early refused a very lucrative offer
+that was made to engage him in a set of prints against the head of a
+court party. Without entering into the merits of the cause, I shall
+only state the fact.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> In September, 1762, Mr. Hogarth published his
+print of <i>The Times</i>. It was answered by Mr. Wilkes in a severe <i>North
+Briton</i>. On this the painter exhibited the caricature of the writer.
+Mr. Churchill, the poet, then engaged in the war, and wrote his
+epistle to Hogarth, not the brightest of his works, and in which the
+severest strokes fell on a defect that the painter had neither caused
+nor could amend&mdash;his age; and which, however, was neither remarkable
+nor decrepit, much less had it impaired his talents, as appeared by
+his having composed but six months before one of his most capital
+works, the satire on the Methodists. In revenge for this epistle,
+Hogarth caricatured Churchill under the form of a canonical bear, with
+a club and a pot of porter&mdash;<i>Et vitul&acirc; tu dignus et hic</i>. Never did
+two angry men of their abilities throw mud with less dexterity.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hogarth, in the year 1730, married the only daughter of Sir James
+Thornhill, by whom he had no children. He died of a dropsy in his
+breast at his house in Leicester Fields, October 26, 1764.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_10" id="II_10"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE WAR IN AMERICA<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>In spite of all my modesty, I can not help thinking I have a little
+something of the prophet about me. At least we have not conquered
+America yet. I did not send you immediate word of our victory at
+Boston, because the success not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>only seemed very equivocal, but
+because the conquerors lost three to one more than the vanquished. The
+last do not pique themselves upon modern good breeding, but level only
+at the officers, of whom they have slain a vast number. We are a
+little disappointed, indeed, at their fighting at all, which was not
+in our calculation. We knew we could conquer America in Germany, and I
+doubt had better have gone thither now for that purpose, as it does
+not appear hitherto to be quite so feasible in America itself.
+However, we are determined to know the worst, and are sending away all
+the men and ammunition we can muster. The Congress, not asleep,
+neither, have appointed a generalissimo, Washington, allowed a very
+able officer, who distinguished himself in the last war. Well, we had
+better have gone on robbing the Indies! it was a more lucrative trade.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_7" id="III_7"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DEATH OF GEORGE II<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The deaths of kings travel so much faster than any post, that I can
+not expect to tell you news, when I say your old master is dead. But I
+can pretty well tell you what I like best to be able to say to you on
+this occasion, that you are in no danger. Change will scarce reach to
+Florence when its hand is checked even in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>capital. But I will
+move a little regularly, and then you will form your judgment more
+easily.</p>
+
+<p>This is Tuesday; on Friday night the King went to bed in perfect
+health, and rose so the next morning at his usual hour of six; he
+called for and drank his chocolate. At seven, his <i>valet de chambre</i>
+heard a groan. He ran in, and in a small room between the closet and
+bed-chamber he found the King on the floor, who had cut the right side
+of his face against the edge of a bureau, and who after a gasp
+expired. Lady Yarmouth was called, and sent for Princess Amelia; but
+they only told the latter that the King was ill and wanted her. She
+had been confined some days with a rheumatism, but hurried down, ran
+into the room without further notice, and saw her father extended on
+the bed. She is very purblind, and more than a little deaf. They had
+not closed his eyes; she bent down close to his face, and concluded he
+spoke to her, tho she could not hear him&mdash;guess what a shock when she
+found the truth.</p>
+
+<p>She wrote to the Prince of Wales&mdash;but so had one of the <i>valets de
+chambre</i> first. He came to town, and saw the Duke [of Cumberland] and
+the Privy Council. He was extremely kind to the first&mdash;and in general
+has behaved with the greatest propriety, dignity, and decency. He read
+his speech to the Council with much grace, and dismissed the guards on
+himself to wait on his grandfather's body. It is intimated, that he
+means to employ the same ministers, but with reserve to himself of
+more authority than has lately been in fashion. The Duke of York and
+Lord Bute are named of the Cabinet Council.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> The late King's will is
+not yet opened. To-day everybody kissed hands at Leicester House, and
+this week, I believe, the King will go to St. James's. The body has
+been opened; the great ventricle of the heart had burst. What an
+enviable death! In the greatest period of the glory of this country,
+and of his reign, in perfect tranquillity at home, at seventy-seven,
+growing blind and deaf, to die without a pang, before any reverse of
+fortune, or any distasted peace, nay, but two days before a ship-load
+of bad news: could he have chosen such another moment?</p>
+
+<p>The news is bad indeed! Berlin taken by capitulation, and yet the
+Austrians behaved so savagely that even Russians felt delicacy, were
+shocked, and checked them! Nearer home, the hereditary prince has been
+much beaten by Monsieur de Castries, and forced to raise the siege of
+Wesel, whither Prince Ferdinand had sent him most unadvisedly: we have
+scarce an officer unwounded. The secret expedition will now, I
+conclude, sail, to give an <i>&eacute;clat</i> to the new reign. Lord Albemarle
+does not command it, as I told you, nor Mr. Conway, tho both applied.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing is settled about the Parliament; not even the necessary
+changes in the Household. Committees of council are regulating the
+mourning and the funeral. The town, which between armies, militia, and
+approaching elections, was likely to be a desert all the winter, is
+filled in a minute, but everything is in the deepest tranquillity.
+People stare; the only expression. The moment anything is declared,
+one shall not perceive the novelty of the reign. A nation without
+parties is soon a nation without curiosity.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> From the "Anecdotes of Painting in England."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Letter dated "Strawberry Hill, August 3, 1775."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Letter to Sir Horace Mann, dated "Arlington Street,
+October 28, 1760."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="GILBERT_WHITE" id="GILBERT_WHITE"></a>GILBERT WHITE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1720, died in 1793; educated at Oxford and became a
+fellow of Oriel; later made curate at Selborne; his "Natural
+History of Selborne," published in 1789.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_CHIMNEY-SWALLOW" id="THE_CHIMNEY-SWALLOW"></a>THE CHIMNEY-SWALLOW<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The house-swallow, or chimney-swallow, is undoubtedly the first comer
+of all the British <i>hirundines</i>; and appears in general on or about
+the 13th of April, as I have remarked from many years' observation.
+Not but now and then a straggler is seen much earlier: and in
+particular, when I was a boy I observed a swallow for a whole day
+together on a sunny warm Shrove Tuesday; which day could not fall out
+later than the middle of March, and often happened early in February.</p>
+
+<p>It is worth remarking that these birds are seen first about lakes and
+mill-ponds; and it is also very particular, that if these early
+visitors happen to find frost and snow, as was the case in the two
+dreadful springs of 1770 and 1771, they immediately withdraw for a
+time. A circumstance this, much more in favor of hiding than
+migration; since it is much more probable that a bird should retire to
+its hybernaculum just at hand, than return for a week or two to warmer
+latitudes.</p>
+
+<p>The swallow, tho called the chimney-swallow, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>by no means builds
+altogether in chimneys, but often within barns and outhouses against
+the rafters; and so she did in Virgil's time: "Garrula quam tignis
+nidos suspendat hirundo" (the twittering swallow hangs its nest from
+the beams).</p>
+
+<p>In Sweden she builds in barns, and is called <i>Ladu swala</i>, the
+barn-swallow. Besides, in the warmer parts of Europe, there are no
+chimneys to houses, except they are English built: in these countries
+she constructs her nest in porches, and gateways, and galleries, and
+open halls.</p>
+
+<p>Here and there a bird may affect some odd peculiar place; as we have
+known a swallow build down a shaft of an old well through which chalk
+had been formerly drawn up for the purpose of manure: but in general
+with us this <i>hirundo</i> breeds in chimneys, and loves to haunt those
+stacks where there is a constant fire&mdash;no doubt for the sake of
+warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate shaft where there is
+a fire; but prefers one adjoining to that of the kitchen, and
+disregards the perpetual smoke of the funnel, as I have often observed
+with some degree of wonder.</p>
+
+<p>Five or six feet more down the chimney does this little bird begin to
+form her nest, about the middle of May: which consists, like that of
+the house-martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt or mud, mixt
+with short pieces of straw to render it tough and permanent; with this
+difference, that whereas the shell of the martin is nearly
+hemispheric, that of the swallow is open at the top, and like half a
+deep ditch; this nest is lined with fine grasses, and feathers which
+are often collected as they float in the air.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Wonderful is the address which this adroit bird shows all day long, in
+ascending and descending with security through so narrow a pass. When
+hovering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibration of her wings,
+acting on the confined air, occasions a rumbling like thunder. It is
+not improbable that the dam submits to this inconvenient situation so
+low in the shaft, in order to secure her broods from rapacious birds;
+and particularly from owls, which frequently fall down chimneys,
+perhaps in attempting to get at these nestlings.</p>
+
+<p>The swallow lays from four to six white eggs, dotted with red specks;
+and brings out her first brood about the last week in June, or the
+first week in July. The progressive method by which the young are
+introduced into life is very amusing: first they emerge from the shaft
+with difficulty enough, and often fall down into the rooms below; for
+a day or so they are fed on the chimney-top, and then are conducted to
+the dead leafless bough of some tree, where, sitting in a row, they
+are attended with great assiduity, and may then be called perchers. In
+a day or two more they become fliers, but are still unable to take
+their own food; therefore they play about near the place where the
+dams are hawking for flies: and when a mouthful is collected, at a
+certain signal given, the dam and the nestling advance, rising toward
+each other, and meeting at an angle; the young one all the while
+uttering such a little quick note of gratitude and complacency, that a
+person must have paid very little regard for the wonders of nature
+that has not often remarked this feat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The dam betakes herself immediately to the business of a second brood
+as soon as she is disengaged from her first, which at once associates
+with the first broods of house-martins, and with them congregates,
+clustering on sunny roofs, towers and trees. This <i>hirundo</i> brings out
+her second brood toward the middle and end of August.</p>
+
+<p>All summer long, the swallow is a most instructive pattern of
+unwearied industry and affection: for from morning to night, while
+there is a family to be supported, she spends the whole day in
+skimming close to the ground, and exerting the most sudden turns and
+quick evolutions. Avenues, and long walks under the hedges, and
+pasture-fields, and mown meadows where cattle graze, are her delight,
+especially if there are trees interspersed; because in such spots
+insects most abound. When a fly is taken, a smart snap from her bill
+is heard, resembling the noise at the shutting of a watch-case; but
+the motion of the mandibles is too quick for the eye.</p>
+
+<p>The swallow, probably the male bird, is the <i>excubitor</i> to
+house-martins and other little birds; announcing the approach of birds
+of prey. For as soon as a hawk appears, with a shrill alarming note he
+calls all the swallows and martins about him; who pursue in a body,
+and buffet and strike their enemy till they have driven him from the
+village; darting down from above on his back, and rising in a
+perpendicular line in perfect security. This bird will also sound the
+alarm, and strike at cats when they climb on the roofs of houses, or
+otherwise approach the nest. Each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> species of <i>hirundo</i> drinks as it
+flies along, sipping the surface of the water; but the swallow alone
+in general washes on the wing, by dropping into a pool for many times
+together: in very hot weather house-martins and bank-martins also dip
+and wash a little.</p>
+
+<p>The swallow is a delicate songster, and in soft sunny weather sings
+both perching and flying; on trees in a kind of concert, and on
+chimney-tops: it is also a bold flier, ranging to distant downs and
+commons even in windy weather, which the other species seems much to
+dislike; nay, even frequenting exposed seaport towns, and making
+little excursions over the salt water. Horsemen on the wide downs are
+often closely attended by a little party of swallows for miles
+together, which plays before and behind them, sweeping around and
+collecting all the skulking insects that are roused by the trampling
+of the horses' feet: when the wind blows hard, without this expedient,
+they are often forced to settle to pick up their lurking prey....</p>
+
+<p>A certain swallow built for two years together on the handles of a
+pair of garden shears that were stuck up against the boards in an
+outhouse, and therefore must have her nest spoiled whenever that
+implement was wanted; and what is stranger still, another bird of the
+same species built its nest on the wings and body of an owl that
+happened by accident to hang dead and dry from the rafter of a barn.
+This owl, with the nest on its wings, and with eggs in the nest, was
+brought as a curiosity worthy of the most elegant private museum in
+Great Britain.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> From "The Natural History of Selborne," being a letter
+to the Hon. Daines Barrington.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ADAM_SMITH" id="ADAM_SMITH"></a>ADAM SMITH</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1723, died in 1790; educated at Glasgow and Oxford;
+lecturer in Edinburgh in 1748; professor in Glasgow in 1751;
+became tutor to the Duke of Buccleuch in 1763; traveled on
+the Continent in 1764-66; lived afterwards in retirement at
+Kirkcaldy; became Commissioner of Customs in Edinburgh in
+1778; elected Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow in
+1787; his "Moral Sentiments" published in 1759; his "Wealth
+of Nations" in 1776.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_11" id="I_11"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF AMBITION MISDIRECTED<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>To attain to this envied situation, the candidates for fortune too
+frequently abandon the paths of virtue; for unhappily, the road which
+leads to the one, and that which leads to the other, lie sometimes in
+very opposite directions. But the ambitious man flatters himself that,
+in the splendid situation to which he advances, he will have so many
+means of commanding the respect and admiration of mankind, and will be
+enabled to act with such superior propriety and grace, that the luster
+of his future conduct will entirely cover or efface the foulness of
+the steps by which he arrived at that elevation. In many governments
+the candidates for the highest stations are above the law, and if they
+can attain the object of their ambition, they have no fear of being
+called to account for the means by which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>they acquired it. They often
+endeavor, therefore, not only by fraud and falsehood, the ordinary and
+vulgar arts of intrigue and cabal, but sometimes by the perpetration
+of the most enormous crimes, by murder and assassination, by rebellion
+and civil war, to supplant and destroy those who oppose or stand in
+the way of their greatness. They more frequently miscarry than
+succeed, and commonly gain nothing but the disgraceful punishment
+which is due to their crimes.</p>
+
+<p>But tho they should be so lucky as to attain that wished-for
+greatness, they are always most miserably disappointed in the
+happiness which they expect to enjoy in it. It is not ease or
+pleasure, but always honor, of one kind or another, tho frequently an
+honor very ill understood, that the ambitious man really pursues. But
+the honor of his exalted station appears, both in his own eyes and in
+those of other people, polluted and defiled by the baseness of the
+means through which he rose to it. Tho by the profusion of every
+liberal expense; tho by excessive indulgence in every profligate
+pleasure&mdash;the wretched but usual resource of ruined characters; tho by
+the hurry of public business, or by the prouder and more dazzling
+tumult of war, he may endeavor to efface, both from his own memory and
+from that of other people, the remembrance of what he has done, that
+remembrance never fails to pursue him. He invokes in vain the dark and
+dismal powers of forgetfulness and oblivion. He remembers himself what
+he has done, and that remembrance tells him that other people must
+likewise remember it. Amidst all the gaudy pomp of the most
+ostentatious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> greatness, amidst the venal and vile adulation of the
+great and of the learned, amidst the more innocent tho more foolish
+acclamations of the common people, amidst all the pride of conquest
+and the triumph of successful war, he is still secretly pursued by the
+avenging furies of shame and remorse; and while glory seems to
+surround him on all sides, he himself, in his own imagination, sees
+black and foul infamy fast pursuing him, and every moment ready to
+overtake him from behind.</p>
+
+<p>Even the great C&aelig;sar, tho he had the magnanimity to dismiss his
+guards, could not dismiss his suspicions. The remembrance of Pharsalia
+still haunted and pursued him. When, at the request of the senate, he
+had the generosity to pardon Marcellus, he told that assembly that he
+was not unaware of the designs which were carrying on against his
+life; but that, as he had lived long enough both for nature and for
+glory, he was contented to die, and therefore despised all
+conspiracies. He had, perhaps, lived long enough for nature; but the
+man who felt himself the object of such deadly resentment, from those
+whose favor he wished to gain, and whom he still wished to consider as
+his friends, had certainly lived too long for real glory, or for all
+the happiness which he could ever hope to enjoy in the love and esteem
+of his equals.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_11" id="II_11"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE ADVANTAGES OF A DIVISION OF LABOR<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or day-laborer
+in a civilized and thriving country, and you will perceive that the
+number of people, of whose industry a part, tho but a small part, has
+been employed in procuring him this accommodation, exceeds all
+computation. The woolen coat, for example, which covers the
+day-laborer, as coarse and rough as it may appear, is the product of
+the joint labor of a great multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the
+sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the
+scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many
+others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even
+this homely production.</p>
+
+<p>How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have been employed in
+transporting the materials from some of those workmen to others, who
+often live in a very distant part of the country! How much commerce
+and navigation in particular, how many ship-builders, sailors,
+sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order to bring
+together the different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often come
+from the remotest corners of the world! What a variety of labor, too,
+is necessary in order to produce the tools of the meanest of those
+workmen!</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
+<p>To say nothing of such complicated machines as the ship of the sailor,
+the mill of the fuller, or even the loom of the weaver, let us
+consider only what a variety of labor is requisite in order to form
+that very simple machine, the shears with which the shepherd clips the
+wool. The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, the
+feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made use of in
+the smelting-house, the brick-maker, the bricklayer, the workmen who
+attend the furnace, the millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of
+them join their different arts in order to produce them.</p>
+
+<p>Were we to examine in the same manner all the different parts of his
+dress and household furniture, the coarse linen shirt which he wears
+next his skin, the shoes which cover his feet, the bed which he lies
+on, and all the different parts which compose it, the kitchen-grate at
+which he prepares his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for
+that purpose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him,
+perhaps, by a long sea and a long land carriage, all the other
+utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives
+and forks, the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and
+divides his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his
+bread and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the
+light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the knowledge and
+art requisite for preparing that beautiful and happy invention,
+without which these northern parts of the world could scarce have
+afforded a very comfortable habitation, together with the tools of all
+the different workmen employed in producing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> those different
+conveniences; if we examine, I say, all these things, and consider
+what a variety of labor is employed about each of them, we shall be
+sensible that, without the assistance and cooperation of many
+thousands, the very meanest person in a civilized country could not be
+provided, even according to what we very falsely imagine the easy and
+simple manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Compared, indeed,
+with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his accommodation must
+no doubt appear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be true,
+perhaps, that the accommodation of a European prince does not always
+so much exceed that of an industrious and frugal peasant, as the
+accommodation of the latter exceeds that of many an African king, the
+absolute masters of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked
+savages.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> From the "Theory of Moral Sentiments."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> From "The Wealth of Nations."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SIR_WILLIAM_BLACKSTONE" id="SIR_WILLIAM_BLACKSTONE"></a>SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1723, died in 1780; professor of Common Law at
+Oxford in 1758; justice in the Court of Common Pleas in
+1770; published his "Commentaries" in 1765-68, eight
+editions appearing in his own lifetime, and innumerable ones
+since.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PROFESSIONAL_SOLDIERS_IN_FREE_COUNTRIES" id="PROFESSIONAL_SOLDIERS_IN_FREE_COUNTRIES"></a>PROFESSIONAL SOLDIERS IN FREE COUNTRIES<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>In a land of liberty it is extremely dangerous to make a distinct
+order of the profession of arms. In absolute monarchies this is
+necessary for the safety of the prince, and arises from the main
+principle of their constitution, which is that of governing by fear;
+but in free states the profession of a soldier, taken singly and
+merely as a profession, is justly an object of jealousy. In these no
+man should take up arms, but with a view to defend his country and its
+laws; he puts not off the citizen when he enters the camp; but it is
+because he is a citizen, and would wish to continue so, that he makes
+himself for a while a soldier. The laws therefore and constitution of
+these kingdoms know no such state as that of a perpetual standing
+soldier, bred up to no other profession than that of war; and it was
+not till the reign of Henry VII that the kings of England had so much
+as a guard about their persons.</p>
+
+<p>In the time of our Saxon ancestors, as appears <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>from Edward the
+Confessor's laws, the military force of this kingdom was in the hands
+of the dukes or heretochs, who were constituted through every province
+and county in the kingdom; being taken out of the principal nobility,
+and such as were most remarkable for being "<i>sapientes, fideles, et
+animosi</i>." Their duty was to lead and regulate the English armies,
+with a very unlimited power; "<i>prout eis visum fuerit, ad honorem
+coron&aelig; et utilitatem regni</i>." And because of this great power they
+were elected by the people in their full assembly, or folkmote, in the
+manner as sheriffs were elected; following still that old fundamental
+maxim of the Saxon constitution, that where any officer was entrusted
+with such power, as if abused might tend to the oppression of the
+people, that power was delegated to him by the vote of the people
+themselves. So, too, among the ancient Germans, the ancestors of our
+Saxon forefathers, they had their dukes, as well as kings, with an
+independent power over the military, as the kings had over the civil
+state. The dukes were elective, the kings hereditary; for so only can
+be consistently understood that passage of Tacitus, "<i>reges ex
+nobilitate, duces ex virtute sumunt</i>"; in constituting their kings,
+the family or blood royal was regarded; in choosing their dukes or
+leaders, warlike merit; just as C&aelig;sar relates of their ancestors in
+his time, that whenever they went to war, by way either of attack or
+defense, they elected leaders to command them. This large share of
+power, thus conferred by the people, tho intended to preserve the
+liberty of the subject, was perhaps unreasonably detrimental to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+prerogative of the crown; and accordingly we find ill use made of it
+by Edric, Duke of Mercia, in the reign of King Edmund Ironside, who,
+by his office of duke or heretoch, was entitled to a large command in
+the king's army, and by his repeated treacheries at last transferred
+the crown to Canute the Dane.</p>
+
+<p>It seems universally agreed by all historians, that King Alfred first
+settled a national militia in this kingdom, and by his prudent
+discipline made all the subjects of his dominion soldiers; but we are
+unfortunately left in the dark as to the particulars of this his so
+celebrated regulation; tho, from what was last observed, the dukes
+seem to have been left in possession of too large and independent a
+power; which enabled Duke Harold on the death of Edward the Confessor,
+tho a stranger to the royal blood, to mount for a short space the
+throne of this kingdom, in prejudice of Edgar Atheling the rightful
+heir.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the Norman Conquest the feudal law was introduced here in all its
+rigor, the whole of which is built on a military plan. I shall not now
+enter into the particulars of that constitution, which belongs more
+properly to the next part of our "Commentaries"; but shall only
+observe that, in consequence thereof, all the lands in the kingdom
+were divided into what were called knights' fees, in number above
+sixty thousand (1); and for every knight's fee a knight or soldier,
+<i>miles</i>, was bound to attend the king in his wars, for forty days in a
+year (2); in which space of time, before war was reduced to a science,
+the campaign was generally finished,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> and a kingdom either conquered
+or victorious. By this means the king had, without any expense, an
+army of sixty thousand men always ready at his command. And
+accordingly we find one, among the laws of William the Conqueror,
+which in the king's name commands and firmly enjoins the personal
+attendance of all knights and others: "<i>quod habeant et teneant se
+semper in armis et equis, ut decet et oportet; et quod semper sint
+prompti et parati ad servitium suum integrum nobis explendum et
+peragendum, cum opus adfuerit, secundum quod debent feodis et
+tenementis suis de jure nobis facere</i>." This personal service in
+process of time degenerated into pecuniary commutations or aids, and
+at last the military part of the feudal system was abolished at the
+Restoration....</p>
+
+<p>As the fashion of keeping standing armies, which was first introduced
+by Charles VII in France, 1445 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>, has of late years universally
+prevailed over Europe (tho some of its potentates, being unable
+themselves to maintain them, are obliged to have recourse to richer
+powers, and receive subsidiary pensions for that purpose), it has also
+for many years past been annually judged necessary by our legislature,
+for the safety of the kingdom, the defense of the possessions of the
+crown of Great Britain, and the preservation of the balance of power
+in Europe, to maintain even in time of peace a standing body of
+troops, under the command of the crown; who are, however, <i>ipso facto</i>
+disbanded at the expiration of every year, unless continued by
+Parliament. And it was enacted by statute (10 W. III, c. 1) that not
+more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> twelve thousand regular forces should be kept on foot in
+Ireland, tho paid at the charge of that kingdom; which permission is
+extended by statute (8 Geo. III, c. 13) to 16,235 men, in time of
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>To prevent the executive power from being able to oppress, says Baron
+Montesquieu,<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> it is requisite that the armies with which it is
+entrusted should consist of the people, and have the same spirit with
+the people; as was the case at Rome, till Marius new modeled the
+legions by enlisting the rabble of Italy, and laid the foundation of
+all the military tyranny that ensued. Nothing, then, according to
+these principles, ought to be more guarded against in a free state,
+than making the military power, when such a one is necessary to be
+kept on foot, a body too distinct from the people. Like ours, it
+should be wholly composed of natural subjects; it ought only to be
+enlisted for a short and limited time; the soldiers also should live
+intermixt with the people; no separate camp, no barracks, no inland
+fortresses should be allowed. And perhaps it might be still better if,
+by dismissing a stated number, and enlisting others at every renewal
+of their term, a circulation could be kept up between the army and the
+people, and the citizen and the soldier be mere intimately connected
+together.</p>
+
+<p>To keep this body of troops in order, an annual act of Parliament
+likewise passes, "to punish mutiny and desertion, and for the better
+payment of the army and their quarters." This regulates the manner in
+which they are to be dispersed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>among the several innkeepers and
+victualers throughout the kingdom, and establishes a law martial for
+their government. By this, among other things, it is enacted that if
+any officer or soldier shall excite, or join any mutiny, or, knowing
+of it, shall not give notice to the commanding officer; or shall
+desert, or list in any other regiment, or sleep upon his post, or
+leave it before he is relieved, or hold correspondence with a rebel or
+enemy, or strike or use violence to his superior officer, or shall
+disobey his lawful commands; such offender shall suffer such
+punishment a court martial shall inflict, tho it extend to death
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>However expedient the most strict regulations may be in time of actual
+war, yet in times of profound peace a little relaxation of military
+rigor would not, one should hope, be productive of much inconvenience.
+And upon this principle, tho by our standing laws (still remaining in
+force, tho not attended to), desertion in time of war is made felony,
+without benefit of clergy, and the offense is triable by a jury and
+before justices at the common law; yet, by our militia laws before
+mentioned, a much lighter punishment is inflicted for desertion in
+time of peace. So, by the Roman law also, desertion in time of war was
+punished with death, but more mildly in time of tranquillity. But our
+Mutiny Act makes no such distinction; for any of the faults above
+mentioned are, equally at all times, punishable with death itself, if
+a court martial shall think proper.</p>
+
+<p>This discretionary power of the court martial is indeed to be guided
+by the directions of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> crown; which, with regard to military
+offenses, has almost an absolute legislative power. "His Majesty,"
+says the act, "may form articles of war, and constitute courts
+martial, with power to try any crime by such articles, and inflict
+penalties by sentence or judgment of the same." A vast and most
+important trust! an unlimited power to create crimes, and annex to
+them any punishments, not extending to life or limb! These are indeed
+forbidden to be inflicted, except for crimes declared to be so
+punishable by this act; which crimes we have just enumerated, and
+among which we may observe that any disobedience to lawful commands is
+one. Perhaps in some future revision of this act, which is in many
+respects hastily penned, it may be thought worthy the wisdom of
+Parliament to ascertain the limits of military subjection, and to
+enact express articles of war for the government of the army, as is
+done for the government of the navy; especially as, by our
+constitution, the nobility and the gentry of the kingdom, who serve
+their country as militia officers, are annually subjected to the same
+arbitrary rule during their time of exercise.</p>
+
+<p>One of the greatest advantages of our English law is that not only the
+crimes themselves which it punishes, but also the penalties which it
+inflicts, are ascertained and notorious; nothing is left to arbitrary
+discretion; the king by his judges dispenses what the law has
+previously ordained, but is not himself the legislator. How much
+therefore is it to be regretted that a set of men, whose bravery has
+so often preserved the liberties of their country, should be reduced
+to a state of servitude in the midst of a nation of free men!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> for Sir
+Edward Coke<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> will inform us that it is one of the genuine marks of
+servitude, to have the law, which is our rule of action, either
+concealed or precarious; "<i>misera est servitus ubi jus est vagum aut
+incognitum</i>." Nor is this the state of servitude quite consistent with
+the maxims of sound policy observed by other free nations. For the
+greater the general liberty is which any state enjoys, the more
+cautious has it usually been in introducing slavery in any particular
+order or profession. These men, as Baron Montesquieu observes, seeing
+the liberty which others possess, and which they themselves are
+excluded from, are apt (like eunuchs in the eastern seraglios) to live
+in a state of perpetual envy and hatred toward the rest of the
+community, and indulge a malignant pleasure in contributing to destroy
+those privileges to which they can never be admitted. Hence have many
+free states, by departing from this rule, been endangered by the
+revolt of their slaves; while in absolute and despotic governments,
+where no real liberty exists, and consequently no invidious
+comparisons can be formed, such incidents are extremely rare. Two
+precautions are therefore advised to be observed in all prudent and
+free governments: 1. To prevent the introduction of slavery at all;
+or, 2. If it be already introduced, not to entrust those slaves with
+arms; who will then find themselves an overmatch for the freemen. Much
+less ought the soldiery to be an exception to the people in general.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+
+<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> From the "Commentaries on the Laws of England."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Author of "The Spirit of the Laws."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Noted as jurist and as the author of comments on
+Littleton's "Tenures," a book commonly known as "Coke Upon Littleton."
+The great blot on his noble reputation is the brutality with which he
+prosecuted Sir Walter Raleigh.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="OLIVER_GOLDSMITH" id="OLIVER_GOLDSMITH"></a>OLIVER GOLDSMITH</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Ireland in 1728, died in 1774; educated at Trinity
+College, Dublin; studied medicine in Edinburgh; traveled on
+the Continent, chiefly on foot, in 1755-56; became a writer
+for periodicals in London in 1757; published "The Present
+State of Polite Learning" in 1759, "The Citizen of the
+World" in 1762; "The Traveler" in 1765; "The Vicar of
+Wakefield" in 1766; "The Deserted Village" in 1770.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_12" id="I_12"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE AMBITIONS OF THE VICAR'S FAMILY<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I now began to find that all my long and painful lectures upon
+temperance, simplicity, and contentment were entirely disregarded. The
+distinctions lately paid us by our betters awakened that pride which I
+had laid asleep, but not removed. Our windows again, as formerly, were
+filled with washes for the neck and face. The sun was dreaded as an
+enemy to the skin without doors, and the fire as a spoiler of the
+complexion within. My wife observed that rising too early would hurt
+her daughters' eyes, that working after dinner would redden their
+noses, and she convinced me that the hands never looked so white as
+when they did nothing. Instead therefore of finishing George's shirts,
+we now had them new-modeling their old gauzes, or flourishing upon
+catgut. The poor Miss Flamboroughs, their former gay companions, were
+cast off as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>mean acquaintance, and the whole conversation ran upon
+high life and high-lived company, with pictures, taste, Shakespeare,
+and the musical glasses.</p>
+
+<p>But we could have borne all this, had not a fortune-telling gipsy come
+to raise us into perfect sublimity. The tawny sibyl no sooner appeared
+than my girls came running to me for a shilling apiece, to cross her
+hand with silver. To say the truth, I was tired of being always wise,
+and could not help gratifying their request, because I loved to see
+them happy. I gave each of them a shilling, tho for the honor of the
+family it must be observed that they never went without money
+themselves, as my wife always generously let them have a guinea each
+to keep in their pockets, but with strict injunctions never to change
+it. After they had been closeted up with the fortune-teller for some
+time, I knew by their looks upon their returning that they had been
+promised something great. "Well, my girls, how have you sped? Tell me,
+Livy, has the fortune-teller given thee a pennyworth?" "I protest,
+papa," says the girl, "I believe she deals with somebody that is not
+right, for she positively declared that I am to be married to a squire
+in less than a twelvemonth!" "Well now, Sophy, my child," said I, "and
+what sort of a husband are you to have?" "Sir," replied she, "I am to
+have a lord soon after my sister has married the squire." "How," cried
+I, "is that all you are to have for your two shillings? Only a lord
+and a squire for two shillings! You fools, I could have promised you a
+prince and a nabob for half the money!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>This curiosity of theirs, however, was attended with very serious
+effects: we now began to think ourselves designed by the stars to
+something exalted, and already anticipated our future grandeur....</p>
+
+<p>It has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it once
+more, that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more
+pleasing than those crowned with fruition. In the first case we cook
+the dish to our own appetite; in the latter, nature cooks it for us.
+It is impossible to repeat the train of agreeable reveries we called
+up for our entertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as once more
+rising; and as the whole parish asserted that the Squire was in love
+with my daughter, she was actually so with him, for they persuaded her
+into the passion. In this agreeable interval my wife had the most
+lucky dreams in the world, which she took care to tell us every
+morning with great solemnity and exactness. It was one night a coffin
+and crossbones, the sign of an approaching wedding; at another time
+she imagined her daughter's pockets filled with farthings, a certain
+sign of their being shortly stuffed with gold. The girls themselves
+had their omens. They felt strange kisses on their lips; they saw
+rings in the candle; purses bounced from the fire, and true-love knots
+lurked in the bottom of every teacup.</p>
+
+<p>Toward the end of the week we received a card from the town ladies, in
+which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our family at
+church the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I could perceive, in
+consequence of this,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> my wife and daughters in close conference
+together, and now and then glancing at me with looks that betrayed a
+latent plot. To be sincere, I had strong suspicions that some absurd
+proposal was preparing for appearing with splendor the next day. In
+the evening they began their operations in a very regular manner, and
+my wife undertook to conduct the siege.</p>
+
+<p>After tea, when I seemed in spirits, she began thus: "I fancy, Charles
+my dear, we shall have a great deal of good company at our church
+tomorrow." "Perhaps we may, my dear," returned I; "tho you need be
+under no uneasiness about that; you shall have a sermon whether there
+be or not." "That is what I expect," returned she; "but I think, my
+dear, we ought to appear there as decently as possible, for who knows
+what may happen?" "Your precautions," replied I, "are highly
+commendable. A decent behavior and appearance in church is what charms
+me. We should be devout and humble, cheerful and serene." "Yes," cried
+she, "I know that; but I mean we should go there in as proper a manner
+as possible; not altogether like the scrubs about us." "You are quite
+right, my dear," returned I; "and I was going to make the very same
+proposal. The proper manner of going is to go there as early as
+possible, to have time for meditation before the service begins."
+"Phoo, Charles!" interrupted she; "all that is very true, but not what
+I would be at. I mean we should go there genteelly. You know the
+church is two miles off, and I protest I don't like to see my
+daughters trudging up to their pew all blowzed and red with walking,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+and looking for all the world as if they had been winners at a
+smock-race. Now, my dear, my proposal is this: there are our two
+plow-horses, the colt that has been in our family these nine years,
+and his companion Blackberry that has scarcely done an earthly thing
+this month past. They are both grown fat and lazy. Why should not they
+do something as well as we? And let me tell you, when Moses has
+trimmed them a little they will cut a very tolerable figure."</p>
+
+<p>To this proposal I objected that walking would be twenty times more
+genteel than such a paltry conveyance, as Blackberry was wall-eyed and
+the colt wanted a tail; that they had never been broke to the rein,
+but had a hundred vicious tricks; and that we had but one saddle and
+pillion in the whole house. All these objections, however, were
+overruled; so that I was obliged to comply. The next morning I
+perceived them not a little busy in collecting such materials as might
+be necessary for the expedition, but as I found it would be a business
+of time, I walked on to the church before, and they promised speedily
+to follow. I waited near an hour in the reading-desk for their
+arrival, but not finding them come as I expected, I was obliged to
+begin, and went through the service, not without some uneasiness at
+finding them absent. This was increased when all was finished, and no
+appearance of the family.</p>
+
+<p>I therefore walked back to the horse-way, which was five miles around,
+tho the foot-way was but two, and when I got about half-way home,
+perceived the procession marching slowly forward toward the church; my
+son, my wife,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> and the two little ones exalted upon one horse, and my
+two daughters upon the other. I demanded the cause of their delay; but
+I soon found by their looks they had met with a thousand misfortunes
+on the road. The horses had at first refused to move from the door,
+till Mr. Burchell was kind enough to beat them forward for about two
+hundred yards with his cudgel. Next, the straps of my wife's pillion
+broke down, and they were obliged to stop to repair them before they
+could proceed. After that, one of the horses took it into his head to
+stand still, and neither blows nor entreaties could prevail with him
+to proceed. They were just recovering from this dismal situation when
+I found them; but perceiving everything safe, I own their present
+mortification did not much displease me, as it would give me many
+opportunities of future triumph, and teach my daughters more humility.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_12" id="II_12"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>SAGACITY IN INSECTS<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Animals in general are sagacious in proportion as they cultivate
+society. The elephant and the beaver show the greatest signs of this
+when united; but when man intrudes into their communities they lose
+all their spirit of industry and testify but a very small share of
+that sagacity <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>for which, when in a social state, they are so
+remarkable.</p>
+
+<p>Among insects, the labors of the bee and the ant have employed the
+attention and admiration of the naturalist; but their whole sagacity
+is lost upon separation, and a single bee or ant seems destitute of
+every degree of industry, is the most stupid insect imaginable,
+languishes for a time in solitude, and soon dies.</p>
+
+<p>Of all the solitary insects I have ever remarked, the spider is the
+most sagacious; and its actions, to me who have attentively considered
+them, seem almost to exceed belief. This insect is formed by nature
+for a state of war, not only upon other insects, but upon each other.
+For this state nature seems perfectly well to have formed it. Its head
+and breast are covered with a strong natural coat of mail, which is
+impenetrable to the attempts of every other insect, and its belly is
+enveloped in a soft, pliant skin, which eludes the sting even of a
+wasp. Its legs are terminated by strong claws, not unlike those of a
+lobster; and their vast length, like spears, serve to keep every
+assailant at a distance.</p>
+
+<p>Not worse furnished for observation than for an attack or a defense,
+it has several eyes, large, transparent, and covered with a horny
+substance, which, however, does not impede its vision. Besides this,
+it is furnished with a forceps above the mouth, which serves to kill
+or secure the prey already caught in its claws or its net.</p>
+
+<p>Such are the implements of war with which the body is immediately
+furnished; but its net to entangle the enemy seems what it chiefly
+trusts to, and what it takes most pains to render as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> complete as
+possible. Nature has furnished the body of this little creature with a
+glutinous liquid, which, proceeding from the anus, it spins into
+thread, coarser or finer, as it chooses to contract or dilate its
+sphincter. In order to fix its thread when it begins to weave, it
+emits a small drop of its liquid against the wall, which hardening by
+degrees, serves to hold the thread very firmly. Then receding from its
+first point, as it recedes the thread lengthens; and when the spider
+has come to the place where the other end of the thread should be
+fixt, gathering up with its claws the thread which would otherwise be
+too slack, it is stretched tightly and fixt in the same manner to the
+wall as before.</p>
+
+<p>In this manner it spins and fixes several threads parallel to each
+other, which, so to speak serve as the warp to the intended web. To
+form the woof, it spins in the same manner its thread, transversely
+fixing one end to the first thread that was spun, and which is always
+the strongest of the whole web, and the other to the wall. All these
+threads being newly spun, are glutinous and therefore stick to each
+other wherever they happen to touch; and in those parts of the web
+most exposed to be torn, our natural artist strengthens them, by
+doubling the threads sometimes sixfold.</p>
+
+<p>Thus far naturalists have gone in the description of this animal; what
+follows is the result of my own observation upon that species of the
+insect called a house spider. I perceived about four years ago a large
+spider in one corner of my room, making its web; and tho the maid
+frequently leveled her fatal broom against the labors of the little
+animal, I had the good for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>tune then to prevent its destruction; and I
+may say it more than paid me by the entertainment it afforded.</p>
+
+<p>In three days the web was with incredible diligence completed; nor
+could I avoid thinking that the insect seemed to exult in its new
+abode. It frequently traversed it round, examined the strength of
+every part of it, retired into its hole, and came out very frequently.
+The first enemy, however, it had to encounter, was another and a much
+larger spider, which, having no web of its own, and having probably
+exhausted all its stock in former labors of this kind, came to invade
+the property of its neighbor. Soon, then, a terrible encounter ensued,
+in which the invader seemed to have the victory, and the laborious
+spider was obliged to take refuge in its hole. Upon this I perceived
+the victor using every art to draw the enemy from his stronghold. He
+seemed to go off, but quickly returned; and when he found all arts
+vain, began to demolish the new web without mercy. This brought on
+another battle, and, contrary to my expectations, the laborious spider
+became conqueror, and fairly killed his antagonist.</p>
+
+<p>Now, then, in peaceable possession of what was justly its own, it
+waited three days with the utmost impatience, repairing the breaches
+of its web, and taking no sustenance that I could perceive. At last,
+however, a large blue fly fell into the snare, and struggled hard to
+get loose. The spider gave it leave to entangle itself as much as
+possible, but it seemed to be too strong for the cobweb. I must own I
+was greatly surprized when I saw the spider immediately sally out,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
+and in less than a minute weave a new net around its captive, by which
+the motion of its wings was stopt; and when it was fairly hampered in
+this manner, it was seized and dragged into the hole.</p>
+
+<p>In this manner it lived in a precarious state; and nature seemed to
+have fitted it for such a life, for upon a single fly it subsisted for
+more than a week. I once put a wasp into the net; but when the spider
+came out in order to seize it as usual, upon perceiving what kind of
+an enemy it had to deal with, it instantly broke all the bands that
+held it fast and contributed all that lay in its power to disengage so
+formidable an antagonist. When the wasp was at liberty, I expected the
+spider would have set about repairing the breaches that were made in
+its net, but those it seems were irreparable; wherefore the cobweb was
+now entirely forsaken, and a new one begun, which was completed in the
+usual time.</p>
+
+<p>I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a single spider could
+furnish; wherefore I destroyed this, and the insect set about another.
+When I destroyed the other also its whole stock seemed entirely
+exhausted, and it could spin no more. The arts it made use of to
+support itself, now deprived of its great means of subsistence, were
+indeed surprizing. I have seen it roll up its legs like a ball and lie
+motionless for hours together, but cautiously watching all the time.
+When a fly happened to approach sufficiently near, it would dart out
+all at once, and often seize its prey.</p>
+
+<p>Of this life, however, it soon began to grow weary, and resolved to
+invade the possession of some other spider, since it could not make a
+web of its own. It formed an attack upon a neighbor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>ing fortification
+with great vigor, and at first was as vigorously repulsed. Not
+daunted, however, with one defeat, in this manner it continued to lay
+siege to another's web for three days, and at length, having killed
+the defendant, actually took possession. When smaller flies happen to
+fall into the snare, the spider does not sally out at once, but very
+patiently waits till it is sure of them; for upon his immediately
+approaching, the terror of his appearance might give the captive
+strength sufficient to get loose; the manner then is to wait patiently
+till by ineffectual and impotent struggles the captive has wasted all
+its strength, and then it becomes a certain and easy conquest.</p>
+
+<p>The insect I am now describing lived three years; every year it
+changed its skin and got a new set of legs. I have sometimes plucked
+off a leg, which grew again in two or three days. At first it dreaded
+my approach to its web, but at last it became so familiar as to take a
+fly out of my hand; and upon my touching any part of the web, would
+immediately leave its hole, prepared either for a defense or an
+attack.</p>
+
+<p>To complete this description, it may be observed that the male spiders
+are much less than the female, and that the latter are oviparous. When
+they come to lay, they spread a part of their web under the eggs, and
+then roll them up carefully, as we roll up things in a cloth, and thus
+hatch them in their hole. If disturbed in their holes they never
+attempt to escape without carrying this young brood, in their forceps,
+away with them, and thus frequently are sacrificed to their paternal
+affection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As soon as ever the young ones leave their artificial covering, they
+begin to spin, and almost sensibly seem to grow bigger. If they have
+the good fortune, when even but a day old, to catch a fly, they fall
+to with good appetites; but they live sometimes three or four days
+without any sort of sustenance, and yet still continue to grow larger,
+so as every day to double their former size. As they grow old,
+however, they do not still continue to increase, but their legs only
+continue to grow longer; and when a spider becomes entirely stiff with
+age and unable to seize its prey, it dies at length of hunger.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_8" id="III_8"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>A CHINAMAN'S VIEW OF LONDON<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Think not, O thou guide of my youth! that absence can impair my
+respect, or interposing trackless deserts blot your reverend figure
+from my memory. The further I travel I feel the pain of separation
+with stronger force; those ties that bind me to my native country and
+you are still unbroken. By every remove I only drag a greater length
+of chain.</p>
+
+<p>Could I find aught worth transmitting from so remote a region as this
+to which I have wandered I should gladly send it; but, instead of
+this, you must be contented with a renewal of my former <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>professions
+and an imperfect account of a people with whom I am as yet but
+superficially acquainted. The remarks of a man who has been but three
+days in the country can only be those obvious circumstances which
+force themselves upon the imagination. I consider myself here as a
+newly created being introduced into a new world; every object strikes
+with wonder and surprize. The imagination, still unsated, seems the
+only active principle of the mind. The most trifling occurrences give
+pleasure till the gloss of novelty is worn away. When I have ceased to
+wonder, I may possibly grow wise; I may then call the reasoning
+principle to my aid, and compare those objects with each other, which
+were before examined without reflection.</p>
+
+<p>Behold me then in London, gazing at the strangers, and they at me; it
+seems they find somewhat absurd in my figure; and had I been never
+from home, it is possible I might find an infinite fund of ridicule in
+theirs; but by long traveling I am taught to laugh at folly alone, and
+to find nothing truly ridiculous but villainy and vice.</p>
+
+<p>When I had quitted my native country, and crossed the Chinese wall, I
+fancied every deviation from the customs and manners of China was a
+departing from nature. I smiled at the blue lips and red foreheads of
+the Tonguese; and could hardly contain when I saw the Daures dress
+their heads with horns. The Ostiacs powdered with red earth; and the
+Calmuck beauties, tricked out in all the finery of sheepskin, appeared
+highly ridiculous: but I soon perceived that the ridicule lay not in
+them, but in me; that I falsely con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>demned others for absurdity
+because they happened to differ from a standard originally founded in
+prejudice or partiality.</p>
+
+<p>I find no pleasure therefore in taxing the English with departing from
+nature in their external appearance, which is all I yet know of their
+character: it is possible they only endeavor to improve her simple
+plan, since every extravagance in dress proceeds from a desire of
+becoming more beautiful than nature made us; and this is so harmless a
+vanity that I not only pardon but approve it. A desire to be more
+excellent than others is what actually makes us so; and as thousands
+find a livelihood in society by such appetites, none but the ignorant
+inveigh against them.</p>
+
+<p>You are not insensible, most reverend Fum Hoam, what numberless
+trades, even among the Chinese, subsist by the harmless pride of each
+other. Your nose-borers, feet-swathers, tooth-stainers,
+eyebrow-pluckers would all want bread should their neighbors want
+vanity. These vanities, however, employ much fewer hands in China than
+in England; and a fine gentleman or a fine lady here, drest up to the
+fashion, seems scarcely to have a single limb that does not suffer
+some distortions from art.</p>
+
+<p>To make a fine gentleman, several trades are required, but chiefly a
+barber. You have undoubtedly heard of the Jewish champion whose
+strength lay in his hair. One would think that the English were for
+placing all wisdom there. To appear wise nothing more is requisite
+here than for a man to borrow hair from the heads of all his neighbors
+and clap it like a bush on his own;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> the distributors of law and
+physic stick on such quantities that it is almost impossible, even in
+idea, to distinguish between the head and the hair.</p>
+
+<p>Those whom I have been now describing affect the gravity of the lion;
+those I am going to describe more resemble the pert vivacity of
+smaller animals. The barber, who is still master of the ceremonies,
+cuts their hair close to the crown, and then with a composition of
+meal and hog's lard plasters the whole in such a manner as to make it
+impossible to distinguish whether the patient wears a cap or a
+plaster; but, to make the picture more perfectly striking, conceive
+the tail of some beast, a greyhound's tail, or a pig's tail, for
+instance, appended to the back of the head, and reaching down to that
+place where tails in other animals are generally seen to begin; thus
+betailed and bepowdered, the man of taste fancies he improves in
+beauty, dresses up his hard-featured face in smiles, and attempts to
+look hideously tender. Thus equipped, he is qualified to make love,
+and hopes for success more from the powder on the outside of his head
+than the sentiments within.</p>
+
+<p>Yet when I consider what sort of a creature the fine lady is to whom
+he is supposed to pay his addresses, it is not strange to find him
+thus equipped in order to please. She is herself every whit as fond of
+powder, and tails, and hog's lard, as he. To speak my secret
+sentiments, most reverend Fum, the ladies here are horribly ugly; I
+can hardly endure the sight of them; they no way resemble the beauties
+of China: the Europeans have quite a different idea of beauty from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+us. When I reflect on the small-footed perfections of an Eastern
+beauty, how is it possible I should have eyes for a woman whose feet
+are ten inches long? I shall never forget the beauties of my native
+city of Nanfew. How very broad their faces! how very short their
+noses! how very little their eyes! how very thin their lips! how very
+black their teeth! the snow on the tops of Bao is not fairer than
+their cheeks; and their eyebrows are small as the line by the pencil
+of Quamsi. Here a lady with such perfections would be frightful; Dutch
+and Chinese beauties, indeed, have some resemblance, but English women
+are entirely different; red cheeks, big eyes, and teeth of a most
+odious whiteness, are not only seen here, but wished for; and then
+they have such masculine feet, as actually serve some for walking!</p>
+
+<p>Yet uncivil as Nature has been, they seem resolved to outdo her in
+unkindness; they use white powder, blue powder, and black powder; for
+their hair, and a red powder for the face on some particular
+occasions.</p>
+
+<p>They like to have the face of various colors, as among the Tatars of
+Koreki, frequently sticking on with spittle, little black patches on
+every part of it, except on the tip of the nose, which I have never
+seen with a patch. You'll have a better idea of their manner of
+placing these spots, when I have finished the map of an English face
+patched up to the fashion, which shall shortly be sent to increase
+your curious collection of paintings, medals, and monsters.</p>
+
+<p>But what surprizes more than all the rest is what I have just now been
+credibly informed by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> one of this country. "Most ladies here," says
+he, "have two faces; one face to sleep in, and another to show in
+company. The first is generally reserved for the husband and family at
+home; the other put on to please strangers abroad. The family face is
+often indifferent enough, but the outdoor one looks something better;
+this is always made at the toilet, where the looking-glass and
+toadeater sit in council, and settle the complexion of the day."</p>
+
+<p>I can't ascertain the truth of this remark; however, it is actually
+certain that they wear more clothes within doors than without, and I
+have seen a lady, who seemed to shudder at a breeze in her own
+apartment, appear half-naked in the streets. Farewell.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> From "The Vicar of Wakefield."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> From "The Bee, Being Essays on the Most Interesting
+Subjects," and published in 1759. Of these essays eight had been
+previously published as weekly contributions.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Letter No. III in "The Citizen of the World," the writer
+being a Chinaman.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="EDMUND_BURKE" id="EDMUND_BURKE"></a>EDMUND BURKE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Ireland in 1729, died is 1797; educated at Trinity
+College, Dublin; elected to Parliament in 1766; made his
+famous speech on American affairs in 1774; became
+Paymaster-general and Privy Counselor in 1782; conducted the
+impeachment trial of Warren Hastings in 1787-95; published
+"Natural Society" in 1756; "The Sublime and Beautiful" in
+1756; "The Present Discontent" in 1770; "Reflections on the
+Revolution in France" in 1790.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_13" id="I_13"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE PRINCIPLES OF GOOD TASTE<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>On a superficial view we may seem to differ very widely from each
+other in our reasonings, and no less in our pleasures; but
+notwithstanding this difference, which I think to be rather apparent
+than real, it is probable that the standard both of reason and taste
+is the same in all human creatures. For if there were not some
+principles of judgment as well as of sentiment common to all mankind,
+no hold could possibly be taken either on their reason or their
+passions sufficient to maintain the ordinary correspondence of life.
+It appears indeed to be generally acknowledged that with regard to
+truth and falsehood there is something fixt. We find people in their
+disputes continually appealing to certain tests and standards, which
+are allowed on all sides, and are supposed to be established in our
+common nature.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+<p>But there is not the same obvious concurrence in any uniform or
+settled principles which relate to taste. It is even commonly supposed
+that this delicate and aerial faculty, which seems too volatile to
+endure even the chains of a definition, can not be properly tried by
+any test, nor regulated by any standard. There is so continual a call
+for the exercise of the reasoning faculty, and it is so much
+strengthened by perpetual contention, that certain maxims of right
+reason seem to be tacitly settled amongst the most ignorant. The
+learned have improved on this rude science and reduced those maxims
+into a system. If taste has not been so happily cultivated, it was not
+that the subject was barren, but that the laborers were few or
+negligent; for to say the truth, there are not the same interesting
+motives to impel us to fix the one which urge us to ascertain the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>And after all, if men differ in their opinion concerning such matters,
+their difference is not attended with the same important consequences;
+else I make no doubt but that the logic of taste, if I may be allowed
+the expression, might very possibly be as well digested, and we might
+come to discuss matters of this nature with as much certainty as those
+which seem more immediately within the province of mere reason. And
+indeed, it is very necessary, at the entrance into such an inquiry as
+our present, to make this point as clear as possible; for if taste has
+no fixt principles, if the imagination is not affected according to
+some invariable and certain laws, our labor is like to be employed to
+very little purpose; as it must be judged a useless, if not an absurd
+undertaking, to lay down rules for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> caprice, and to set up for a
+legislator of whims and fancies.</p>
+
+<p>The term taste, like all other figurative terms, is not extremely
+accurate; the thing which we understand by it is far from a simple and
+determinate idea in the minds of most men, and it is therefore liable
+to uncertainty and confusion. I have no great opinion of a definition,
+the celebrated remedy for the cure of this disorder. For when we
+define, we seem in danger of circumscribing nature within the bounds
+of our own notions, which we often take up by hazard, or embrace on
+trust, or form out of a limited and partial consideration of the
+object before us, instead of extending our ideas to take in all that
+nature comprehends, according to her manner of combining. We are
+limited in our inquiry by the strict laws to which we have submitted
+at our setting out.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>... Circa vilem patulumque morabimur orbem,</i></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Unde pudor proferre pedem vetet aut operis lex.</i></span></div></div>
+
+<p>A definition may be very exact, and yet go but a very little way
+toward informing us of the nature of the thing defined; but let the
+virtue of a definition be what it will, in the order of things, it
+seems rather to follow than to precede our inquiry, of which it ought
+to be considered as the result. It must be acknowledged that the
+methods of disquisition and teaching may be sometimes different, and
+on very good reason undoubtedly; but for my part, I am convinced that
+the method of teaching which approaches most nearly to the method of
+investigation is incomparably the best; since, not content with
+serving up a few barren<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> and lifeless truths, it leads to the stock on
+which they grew; it tends to set the reader himself in the track of
+invention, and to direct him into those paths in which the author has
+made his own discoveries, if he should be so happy as to have made any
+that are valuable.</p>
+
+<p>But to cut off all pretense for caviling, I mean by the word Taste no
+more than that faculty or those faculties of the mind which are
+affected with, or which form a judgment of, the works of imagination
+and the elegant arts. This is, I think the most general idea of that
+word, and what is the least connected with any particular theory. And
+my point in this inquiry is, to find whether there are any principles
+on which the imagination is affected, so common to all, so grounded
+and certain, as to supply the means of reasoning satisfactorily about
+them. And such principles of taste I fancy there are, however
+paradoxical it may seem to those who on a superficial view imagine
+that there is so great a diversity of tastes, both in kind and degree,
+that nothing can be more determinate.</p>
+
+<p>All the natural powers in man, which I know, that are conversant about
+external objects are the senses, the imagination, and the judgment.
+And first with regard to the senses. We do and we must suppose, that
+as the conformation of their organs are nearly or altogether the same
+in all men, so the manner of perceiving external objects is in all men
+the same, or with little difference. We are satisfied that what
+appears to be light to one eye appears light to another; that what
+seems sweet to one palate is sweet to another; that what is dark and
+bitter to this man is likewise dark and bitter to that; and we
+conclude<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> in the same manner of great and little, hard and soft, hot
+and cold, rough and smooth; and indeed of all the natural qualities
+and affections of bodies. If we suffer ourselves to imagine that their
+senses present to different men different images of things this
+skeptical proceeding will make every sort of reasoning on every
+subject vain and frivolous, even that skeptical reasoning itself which
+had persuaded us to entertain a doubt concerning the agreement of our
+perceptions.</p>
+
+<p>But as there will be little doubt that bodies present similar images
+to the whole species, it must necessarily be allowed that the
+pleasures and the pains which every object excites in one man, it must
+raise in all mankind, whilst it operates, naturally, simply, and by
+its proper powers only; for if we deny this, we must imagine that the
+same cause operating in the same manner, and on subjects of the same
+kind, will produce different effects, which would be highly absurd.
+Let us first consider this point in the sense of taste, and the rather
+as the faculty in question has taken its name from that sense. All men
+are agreed to call vinegar sour, honey sweet, and aloes bitter; and as
+they are all agreed in finding these qualities in those objects, they
+do not in the least differ concerning their effects with regard to
+pleasure and pain. They all concur in calling sweetness pleasant, and
+sourness and bitterness unpleasant.</p>
+
+<p>Here there is no diversity in their sentiments; and that there is not
+appears fully from the consent of all men in the metaphors which are
+taken from the sense of taste. A sour temper, bitter expressions,
+bitter curses, a bitter fate, are terms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> well and strongly understood
+by all. And we are altogether as well understood when we say a sweet
+disposition, a sweet person, a sweet condition, and the like. It is
+confest that custom and some other causes have made many deviations
+from the natural pleasures or pains which belong to these several
+tastes; but then the power of distinguishing between the natural and
+the acquired relish remains to the very last. A man frequently comes
+to prefer the taste of tobacco to that of sugar, and the flavor of
+vinegar to that of milk; but this makes no confusion in tastes, whilst
+he is sensible that the tobacco and vinegar are not sweet, and whilst
+he knows that habit alone has reconciled his palate to these alien
+pleasures. Even with such a person we may speak, and with sufficient
+precision, concerning tastes. But should any man be found who declares
+that to him tobacco has a taste like sugar, and that he can not
+distinguish between milk and vinegar; or that tobacco and vinegar are
+sweet, milk bitter, and sugar sour; we immediately conclude that the
+organs of this man are out of order and that his palate is utterly
+vitiated. We are as far from conferring with such a person upon tastes
+as from reasoning concerning the relations of quantity with one who
+should deny that all the parts together were equal to the whole. We do
+not call a man of this kind wrong in his notions, but absolutely mad.
+Exceptions of this sort, in either way, do not at all impeach our
+general rule, nor make us conclude that men have various principles
+concerning the relations of quantity or the taste of things. So that
+when it is said taste can not be disputed, it can only mean that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> no
+one can strictly answer what pleasure or pain some particular man may
+find from the taste of some particular thing. This indeed can not be
+disputed; but we may dispute, and with sufficient clearness too,
+concerning the things which are naturally pleasing or disagreeable to
+the sense. But when we talk of any peculiar or acquired relish, then
+we must know the habits, the prejudices, or the distempers of this
+particular man, and we must draw our conclusion from those.</p>
+
+<p>This agreement of mankind is not confined to the taste solely. The
+principle of pleasure derived from sight is the same in all. Light is
+more pleasing than darkness. Summer, when the earth is clad in green,
+when the heavens are serene and bright, is more agreeable than winter,
+when everything makes a different appearance. I never remember that
+anything beautiful, whether a man, a beast, a bird, or a plant, was
+ever shown, tho it were to a hundred people, that they did not all
+immediately agree that it was beautiful, tho some might have thought
+that it fell short of their expectation, or that other things were
+still finer. I believe no man thinks a goose to be more beautiful than
+a swan, or imagines that what they call a Friesland hen excels a
+peacock. It must be observed, too, that the pleasures of the sight are
+not nearly so complicated and confused and altered by unnatural habits
+and associations as the pleasures of the taste are; because the
+pleasures of the sight more commonly acquiesce in themselves, and are
+not so often altered by conditions which are independent of the sight
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>But things do not spontaneously present them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>selves to the palate as
+they do to the sight; they are generally applied to it, either as food
+or as medicine; and from the qualities which they possess for
+nutritive or medicinal purposes, they often form the palate by
+degrees, and by force of these associations. Thus opium is pleasing to
+Turks on account of the agreeable delirium it produces. Tobacco is the
+delight of Dutchmen, as it diffuses a torpor and pleasing
+stupefaction. Fermented spirits please our common people, because they
+banish care and all consideration of future or present evils. All of
+these would lie absolutely neglected if their properties had
+originally gone no further than the taste; but all these, together
+with tea and coffee, and some other things, have passed from the
+apothecary's shop to our tables, and were taken for health long before
+they were thought of for pleasure. The effect of the drug has made us
+use it frequently; and frequent use, combined with the agreeable
+effect, has made the taste itself at last agreeable. But this does not
+in the least perplex our reasoning, because we distinguish to the last
+the acquired from the natural relish. In describing the taste of an
+unknown fruit, you would scarcely say that it had a sweet and pleasant
+flavor like tobacco, opium, or garlic, altho you spoke to those who
+were in the constant use of these drugs, and had great pleasure in
+them.</p>
+
+<p>There is in all men a sufficient remembrance of the original natural
+causes of pleasure to enable them to bring all things offered to their
+senses to that standard, and to regulate their feelings and opinions
+by it. Suppose one who had so vitiated his palate as to take more
+pleasure in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> the taste of opium than in that of butter or honey to be
+presented with a bolus of squills; there is hardly any doubt but that
+he would prefer the butter or honey to this nauseous morsel, or to any
+other bitter drug to which he had not been accustomed; which proves
+that his palate was naturally like that of other men in all things,
+that it is still like the palate of other men in many things, and only
+vitiated in some particular points. For in judging of any new thing,
+even of a taste similar to that which he has been formed by habit to
+like, he finds his palate affected in the natural manner and on the
+common principles. Thus the pleasure of all senses, of the sight, and
+even of the taste, that most ambiguous of the senses, is the same in
+all, high and low, learned and unlearned.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the ideas, with their annexed pains and pleasures, which are
+presented by the sense the mind of man possesses a sort of creative
+power of its own; either in representing at pleasure the images of
+things in the order and manner in which they were received by the
+senses, or in combining those images in a new manner, and according to
+a different order. This power is called imagination; and to this
+belongs whatever is called wit, fancy, invention, and the like. But it
+must be observed that the power of the imagination is incapable of
+producing anything absolutely new; it can only vary the disposition of
+those ideas which it has received from the senses. Now the imagination
+is the most extensive province of pleasure and pain, as it is the
+region of our fears and our hopes, and of all our passions that are
+connected with them; and whatever is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> calculated to affect the
+imagination with these commanding ideas, by force of any original
+natural impression, must have the same power pretty equally over all
+men. For since the imagination is only the representation of the
+senses, it can only be pleased or displeased with the images, from the
+same principle on which the sense is pleased or displeased with the
+realities; and consequently there must be just as close an agreement
+in the imaginations as in the senses of men. A little attention will
+convince us that this must of necessity be the case.</p>
+
+<p>But in the imaginations, besides the pain or pleasure arising from the
+properties of the natural object, a pleasure is perceived from the
+resemblance which the imitation has to the original; the imagination,
+I conceive, can have no pleasure but what results from one or other of
+these causes. And these causes operate pretty uniformly upon all men,
+because they operate by principles in nature, and which are not
+derived from any particular habits or advantages. Mr. Locke very
+justly and finely observes of wit that it is chiefly conversant in
+tracing resemblances; he remarks at the same time that the business of
+judgment is rather in finding differences. It may perhaps appear, on
+this supposition, that there is no material distinction between the
+wit and the judgment, as they both seem to result from different
+operations of the same faculty of comparing.</p>
+
+<p>But in reality, whether they are or are not dependent on the same
+power of the mind, they differ so very materially in many respects
+that a perfect union of wit and judgment is one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> the rarest things
+in the world. When two distinct objects are unlike to each other, it
+is only what we expect; things are in their common way, and therefore
+they make no impression on the imagination; but when two distinct
+objects have a resemblance, we are struck, we attend to them, and we
+are pleased. The mind of man has naturally a far greater alacrity and
+satisfaction in tracing resemblances than in searching for
+differences; because by making resemblances we produce new images; we
+unite, we create, we enlarge our stock: but in making distinctions we
+offer no food at all to the imagination; the task itself is more
+severe and irksome, and what pleasure we derive from it is something
+of a negative and indirect nature. A piece of news is told me in the
+morning; this, merely as a piece of news, as a fact added to my stock,
+gives me some pleasure. In the evening I find there was nothing in it.
+What do I gain by this but the dissatisfaction to find that I had been
+imposed upon?</p>
+
+<p>Hence it is that men are much more naturally inclined to belief than
+to incredulity. And it is upon this principle that the most ignorant
+and barbarous nations have frequently excelled in similitudes,
+comparisons, metaphors, and allegories, who have been weak and
+backward in distinguishing and sorting their ideas. And it is for a
+reason of this kind that Homer and the Oriental writers, tho very fond
+of similitudes, and tho they often strike out such as are truly
+admirable, seldom take care to have them exact; that is, they are
+taken with the general resemblance, they paint it strongly, and they
+take no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> notice of the difference which may be found between the
+things compared.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as the pleasure of resemblance is that which principally flatters
+the imagination, all men are nearly equal in this point, as far as
+their knowledge of the things represented or compared extends. The
+principle of this knowledge is very much accidental, as it depends
+upon experience and observation, and not on the strength or weakness
+of any natural faculty; and it is from this difference in knowledge
+that what we commonly, tho with no great exactness, call a difference
+in taste proceeds. A man to whom sculpture is new sees a barber's
+block, or some ordinary piece of statuary; he is immediately struck
+and pleased, because he sees something like a human figure; and,
+entirely taken up with this likeness, he does not at all attend to its
+defects. No person, I believe, at the first time of seeing a piece of
+imitation ever did. Some time after, we suppose that this novice
+lights upon a more artificial work of the same nature; he now begins
+to look with contempt on what he admired at first; not that he admired
+it even then for its unlikeness to a man, but for that general tho
+inaccurate resemblance which it bore to the human figure. What he
+admired at different times in these so different figures is strictly
+the same; and tho his knowledge is improved, his taste is not altered.
+Hitherto his mistake was from a want of knowledge in art, and this
+arose from his inexperience; but he may be still deficient from a want
+of knowledge in nature. For it is possible that the man in question
+may stop here, and that the masterpiece of a great hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> may please
+him no more than the middling performance of a vulgar artist; and this
+not for want of better or higher relish, but because all men do not
+observe with sufficient accuracy on the human figure to enable them to
+judge properly of an imitation of it.</p>
+
+<p>And that the critical taste does not depend upon a superior principle
+in men, but upon superior knowledge, may appear from several
+instances. The story of the ancient painter and the shoemaker is very
+well known. The shoemaker set the painter right with regard to some
+mistakes he had made in the shoe of one of his figures, and which the
+painter, who had not made such accurate observations on shoes, and was
+content with a general resemblance, had never observed. But this was
+no impeachment to the taste of the painter; it only showed some want
+of knowledge in the art of making shoes. Let us imagine that an
+anatomist had come into the painter's working-room. His piece is in
+general well done, the figure in question in a good attitude, and the
+parts well adjusted to their various movements; yet the anatomist,
+critical in his art, may observe the swell of some muscle not quite
+just in the peculiar action of the figure. Here the anatomist observes
+what the painter had not observed; and he passes by what the shoemaker
+had remarked.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_13" id="II_13"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE LETTER TO A NOBLE LORD<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I was not, like his Grace of Bedford, swaddled, and rocked, and
+dandled into a legislator&mdash;<i>Nitor in adversum</i> is the motto for a man
+like me. I possest not one of the qualities, nor cultivated one of the
+arts, that recommend men to the favor and protection of the great. I
+was not made for a minion or a tool. As little did I follow the trade
+of winning the hearts by imposing on the understanding of the people.
+At every step of my progress in life&mdash;for in every step was I
+traversed and opposed&mdash;and at every turnpike I met, I was obliged to
+shew my passport, and again and again to prove my sole title to the
+honor of being useful to my country by a proof that I was not wholly
+unacquainted with its laws, and the whole system of its interests both
+abroad and at home. Otherwise, no rank, no toleration even for me. I
+had no arts but manly arts. On them I have stood, and, please God, in
+spite of the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Lauderdale, to the last
+gasp will I stand....</p>
+
+<p>I know not how it has happened, but it really seems that, while his
+Grace was meditating his well-considered censure upon me, he fell into
+a sort of sleep. Homer nods, and the Duke of Bedford may dream; and as
+dreams&mdash;even his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>golden dreams&mdash;are apt to be ill-pieced and
+incongruously put together, his Grace preserved his idea of reproach
+to me, but took the subject-matter from the crown-grants to his own
+family. This is "the stuff of which his dreams are made." In that way
+of putting things together, his Grace is perfectly in the right. The
+grants to the house of Russell were so enormous as not only to outrage
+economy, but even to stagger credibility. The Duke of Bedford is the
+leviathan among all the creatures of the crown. He tumbles about his
+unwieldy bulk; he plays and frolics in the ocean of the royal bounty.
+Huge as he is, and while "he lies floating many a rood," he is still a
+creature. His ribs, his fins, his whalebone, his blubber, the very
+spiracles through which he spouts a torrent of brine against his
+origin, and covers me all over with the spray&mdash;everything of him and
+about him is from the throne. Is it for <i>him</i> to question the
+dispensation of the royal favor?</p>
+
+<p>I really am at a loss to draw any sort of parallel between the public
+merits of his Grace, by which he justifies the grants he holds, and
+these services of mine, on the favorable construction of which I have
+obtained what his Grace so much disapproves. In private life, I have
+not at all the honor of acquaintance with the noble Duke. But I ought
+to presume, and it costs me nothing to do so, that he abundantly
+deserves the esteem and love of all who live with him. But as to
+public service, why, truly, it would not be more ridiculous for me to
+compare myself in rank, in fortune, in splendid descent, in youth,
+strength, or figure, with the Duke of Bedford,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> than to make a
+parallel between his services and my attempts to be useful to my
+country. It would not be gross adulation, but uncivil irony, to say
+that he has any public merit of his own, to keep alive the idea of the
+services by which his vast landed pensions were obtained. My merits,
+whatever they are, are original and personal; his are derivative. It
+is his ancestor, the original pensioner, that has laid up this
+inexhaustible fund of merit, which makes his Grace so very delicate
+and exceptious about the merit of all other grantees of the crown. Had
+he permitted me to remain in quiet, I should have said: "'Tis his
+estate; that's enough. It is his by law; what have I to do with it or
+its history?" He would naturally have said on his side: "'Tis this
+man's fortune. He is as good now as my ancestor was two hundred and
+fifty years ago. I am a young man with very old pensions: he is an old
+man with very young pensions&mdash;that's all."</p>
+
+<p>Why will his Grace, by attacking me, force me reluctantly to compare
+my little merit with that which obtained from the crown those
+prodigies of profuse donation by which he tramples on the mediocrity
+of humble and laborious individuals?... Since the new grantees have
+war made on them by the old, and that the word of the sovereign is not
+to be taken, let us turn our eyes to history, in which great men have
+always a pleasure in contemplating the heroic origin of their house.</p>
+
+<p>The first peer of the name, the first purchaser of the grants, was a
+Mr. Russell, a person of an ancient gentleman's family, raised by
+being a minion of Henry VIII. As there generally is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> some resemblance
+of character to create these relations, the favorite was in all
+likelihood much such another as his master. The first of those
+immoderate grants was not taken from the ancient demesne of the crown,
+but from the recent confiscation of the ancient nobility of the land.
+The lion having sucked the blood of his prey, threw the offal carcass
+to the jackal in waiting. Having tasted once the food of confiscation,
+the favorites became fierce and ravenous. This worthy favorite's first
+grant was from the lay nobility. The second, infinitely improving on
+the enormity of the first, was from the plunder of the church. In
+truth, his Grace is somewhat excusable for his dislike to a grant like
+mine, not only in its quantity, but in its kind, so different from his
+own.</p>
+
+<p>Mine was from a mild and benevolent sovereign; his, from Henry VIII.
+Mine had not its fund in the murder of any innocent person of
+illustrious rank, or in the pillage of any body of unoffending men;
+his grants were from the aggregate and consolidated funds of judgments
+iniquitously legal, and from possessions voluntarily surrendered by
+the lawful proprietors with the gibbet at their door.</p>
+
+<p>The merit of the grantee whom he derives from was that of being a
+prompt and greedy instrument of a leveling tyrant, who opprest all
+descriptions of his people, but who fell with particular fury on
+everything that was great and noble. Mine has been in endeavoring to
+screen every man, in every class, from oppression, and particularly in
+defending the high and eminent, who in the bad times of confiscating
+princes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> confiscating chief-governors, or confiscating demagogs, are
+the most exposed to jealousy, avarice, and envy.</p>
+
+<p>The merit of the original grantee of his Grace's pensions was in
+giving his hand to the work, and partaking the spoil with a prince who
+plundered a part of the national church of his time and country. Mine
+was in defending the whole of the national church of my own time and
+my own country, and the whole of the national churches of all
+countries, from the principles and the examples which lead to
+ecclesiastical pillage, thence to a contempt of all prescriptive
+titles, thence to the pillage of all property, and thence to universal
+desolation.</p>
+
+<p>The merit of the origin of his Grace's fortune was in being a favorite
+and chief adviser to a prince who left no liberty to his native
+country. My endeavor was to obtain liberty for the municipal country
+in which I was born, and for all descriptions and denominations in it.
+Mine was to support, with unrelaxing vigilance, every right, every
+privilege, every franchise, in this my adopted, my dearer, and more
+comprehensive country; and not only to preserve those rights in this
+chief seat of empire, but in every nation, in every land, in every
+climate, language, and religion in the vast domain that still is under
+the protection, and the larger that was once under the protection, of
+the British crown.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III_9" id="III_9"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Had it pleased God to continue to me the hopes of succession, I should
+have been, according to my mediocrity, and the mediocrity of the age I
+live in, a sort of founder of a family; I should have left a son, who,
+in all the points in which personal merit can be viewed, in science,
+in erudition, in genius, in taste, in honor, in generosity, in
+humanity, in every liberal sentiment and every liberal accomplishment,
+would not have shewn himself inferior to the Duke of Bedford, or to
+any of those whom he traces in his line. His Grace very soon would
+have wanted all plausibility in his attack upon that provision which
+belonged more to mine than to me. He would soon have supplied every
+deficiency, and symmetrized every disproportion. It would not have
+been for that successor to resort to any stagnant wasting reservoir of
+merit in me, or in any ancestry. He had in himself a salient living
+spring of generous and manly action. Every day he lived, he would have
+repurchased the bounty of the crown, and ten times more, if ten times
+more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>he had received. He was made a public creature, and had no
+enjoyment whatever but in the performance of some duty. At this
+exigent moment the loss of a finished man is not easily supplied.</p>
+
+<p>But a Disposer, whose power we are little able to resist, and whose
+wisdom it behooves us not at all to dispute, has ordained it in
+another manner, and&mdash;whatever my querulous weakness might suggest&mdash;a
+far better. The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those
+old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stript
+of all my honors; I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the
+earth! There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the
+divine justice, and in some degree submit to it. But while I humble
+myself before God, I do not know that it is forbidden to repel the
+attacks of unjust and inconsiderate men. The patience of Job is
+proverbial. After some of the convulsive struggles of our irritable
+nature, he submitted himself, and repented in dust and ashes. But even
+so, I do not find him blamed for reprehending, and with a considerable
+degree of verbal asperity, those ill-natured neighbors of his who
+visited his dunghill to read moral, political, and economical lectures
+on his misery. I am alone. I have none to meet my enemies in the gate.
+Indeed, my lord, I greatly deceive myself, if in this hard season I
+would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is called fame and
+honor in the world. This is the appetite but of a few. It is a luxury;
+it is a privilege; it is an indulgence for those who are at their
+ease. But we are all of us made to shun disgrace, as we are made to
+shrink from pain, and poverty, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> disease. It is an instinct; and
+under the direction of reason, instinct is always in the right. I live
+in an inverted order. They who ought to have succeeded me are gone
+before me; they who should have been to me as posterity are in the
+place of ancestors. I owe to the dearest relation&mdash;which ever must
+subsist in memory&mdash;that act of piety which he would have performed to
+me; I owe it to him to shew, that he was not descended, as the Duke of
+Bedford would have it, from an unworthy parent.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV_4" id="IV_4"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>MARIE ANTOINETTE<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I hear, and I rejoice to hear, that the great lady, the other object
+of the triumph, has borne that day (one is interested that beings made
+for suffering should suffer well) and that she bears all the
+succeeding days, that she bears the imprisonment of her husband, and
+her own captivity, and the exile of her friends, and the insulting
+adulation of addresses, and the whole weight of her accumulated
+wrongs, with a serene patience, in a manner suited to her rank and
+race, and becoming the offspring of a sovereign distinguished for her
+piety and her courage; that like her she has lofty sentiments; that
+she feels with the dignity of a Roman matron; that in the last
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>extremity she will save herself from the last disgrace, and that if
+she must fall, she will fall by no ignoble hand.</p>
+
+<p>It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France,
+then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this
+orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw
+her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated
+sphere she just began to move in&mdash;glittering like the morning star,
+full of life, and splendor, and joy. Oh! what a revolution! and what a
+heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and
+that fall! Little did I dream when she added titles of veneration to
+those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever
+be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in
+that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such
+disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of
+men of honor and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have
+leapt from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her
+with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters,
+economists, and calculators has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is
+extinguished forever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous
+loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified
+obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in
+servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace
+of life, the cheap defense of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment
+and heroic enterprise is gone! It is gone, that sensibility of
+principle, that chastity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> of honor, which felt a stain like a wound,
+which inspired courage while it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled
+whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil by
+losing all its grossness.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> From "The Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and
+Beautiful."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Written in 1796. The occasion for this celebrated letter
+was an attack on Burke by the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of
+Lauderdale in connection with his pension. The attacks were made from
+their places in the House of Lords.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Burke's son was Richard Burke, who died on August 2,
+1790. He was 32 years of age. The blow shattered Burke's ambition. He
+himself died in 1797. One other son, Christopher, had been horn to
+Burke, but he died in childhood. Burke's domestic life was otherwise
+exceptionally happy. He was noted among his contemporaries for his
+"orderly and amiable domestic habits."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> From the "Reflections on the Revolution in France."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="WILLIAM_COWPER" id="WILLIAM_COWPER"></a>WILLIAM COWPER</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1731, died in 1800; son of a clergyman; educated at
+Westminster School; admitted to the bar in 1754, but
+melancholia unfitted him for practise; temporarily confined
+in an asylum in 1763; afterward lived in private families,
+being subject to repeated attacks of mental disorder tending
+to suicide, ending in permanent insanity; published "The
+Task" in 1785, a translation of Homer in 1791.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_14" id="I_14"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF KEEPING ONE'S SELF EMPLOYED<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have neither long visits to pay nor to receive, nor ladies to spend
+hours in telling me that which might be told in five minutes; yet
+often find myself obliged to be an economist of time, and to make the
+most of a short opportunity. Let our station be as retired as it may,
+there is no want of playthings and avocations, nor much need to seek
+them, in this world of ours. Business, or what presents itself to us
+under that imposing character, will find us out even in the stillest
+retreat, and plead its importance, however trivial in reality, as a
+just demand upon our attention.</p>
+
+<p>It is wonderful how by means of such real or seeming necessities my
+time is stolen away. I have just time to observe that time is short,
+and by the time I have made the observation time is gone.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>
+<p>I have wondered in former days at the patience of the antediluvian
+world, that they could endure a life almost millenary, and with so
+little variety as seems to have fallen to their share. It is probable
+that they had much fewer employments than we. Their affairs lay in a
+narrower compass; their libraries were indifferently furnished;
+philosophical researches were carried on with much less industry and
+acuteness of penetration, and fiddles perhaps were not even invented.
+How then could seven or eight hundred years of life be supported? I
+have asked this question formerly, and been at a loss to resolve it;
+but I think I can answer it now. I will suppose myself born a thousand
+years before Noah was born or thought of. I rise with the sun; I
+worship; I prepare my breakfast; I swallow a bucket of goat's milk and
+a dozen good sizable cakes. I fasten a new string to my bow, and my
+youngest boy, a lad of about thirty years of age, having played with
+my arrows till he has stript off all the feathers, I find myself
+obliged to repair them. The morning is thus spent in preparing for the
+chase, and it is become necessary that I should dine. I dig up my
+roots; I wash them; boil them; I find them not done enough, I boil
+them again; my wife is angry; we dispute; we settle the point; but in
+the mean time the fire goes out, and must be kindled again. All this
+is very amusing.</p>
+
+<p>I hunt; I bring home the prey; with the skin of it I mend an old coat,
+or I make a new one. By this time the day is far spent; I feel myself
+fatigued, and retire to rest. Thus, what with tilling the ground and
+eating the fruit of it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> hunting, and walking, and running, and
+mending old clothes, and sleeping and rising again, I can suppose an
+inhabitant of the primeval world so much occupied as to sigh over the
+shortness of life, and to find, at the end of many centuries, that
+they had all slipt through his fingers and were passing away like a
+shadow. What wonder then that I, who live in a day of so much greater
+refinement, when there is so much more to be wanted and wished, and to
+be enjoyed, should feel myself now and then pinched in point of
+opportunity, and at some loss for leisure to fill four sides of a
+sheet like this?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_14" id="II_14"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>ON JOHNSON'S TREATMENT OF MILTON<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have been well entertained with Johnson's biography, for which I
+thank you: with one exception, and that a swinging one, I think he has
+acquitted himself with his usual good sense and sufficiency. His
+treatment of Milton is unmerciful to the last degree. A pensioner is
+not likely to spare a republican, and the Doctor, in order, I suppose,
+to convince his royal patron of the sincerity of his monarchical
+principles, has belabored that great poet's character with the most
+industrious cruelty. As a man, he has <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>hardly left him the shadow of
+one good quality. Churlishness in his private life, and a rancorous
+hatred of everything royal in his public, are the two colors with
+which he has smeared all the canvas. If he had any virtues, they are
+not to be found in the Doctor's picture of him, and it is well for
+Milton that some sourness in his temper is the only vice with which
+his memory has been charged; it is evident enough that if his
+biographer could have discovered more, he would not have spared him.</p>
+
+<p>As a poet, he has treated him with severity enough, and has plucked
+one or two of the most beautiful feathers out of his Muse's wing, and
+trampled them under his great foot. He has passed sentence of
+condemnation upon Lycidas, and has taken occasion, from that charming
+poem, to expose and ridicule (what is indeed ridiculous enough) the
+childish prattlement of pastoral compositions, as if Lycidas was the
+prototype and pattern of them all. The liveliness of the descriptions,
+the sweetness of the numbers, the classical spirit of antiquity that
+prevails in it, go for nothing. I am convinced, by the way, that he
+has no ear for poetical numbers, or that it was stopt by prejudice
+against the harmony of Milton's. Was there ever anything so delightful
+as the music of the Paradise Lost? It is like that of a fine organ;
+has the fullest and the deepest tones of majesty with all the softness
+and elegance of the Dorian flute: variety without end, and never
+equaled, unless perhaps by Virgil. Yet the Doctor has little or
+nothing to say upon this copious theme, but talks something about the
+unfitness of the English language for blank<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> verse, and how apt it is,
+in the mouths of some readers, to degenerate into declamation. Oh! I
+could thrash his old jacket till I made his pension jingle in his
+pockets.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_10" id="III_10"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS BOOKS<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>In the press, and speedily will be published, in one volume octavo,
+price three shillings, Poems,<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> by William Cowper, of the Inner
+Temple, Esq. You may suppose, by the size of the publication, that the
+greatest part of them have never been long kept secret, because you
+yourself have never seen them; but the truth is, that they are most of
+them, except what you have in your possession, the produce of the last
+winter. Two-thirds of the compilation will be occupied by four pieces,
+the first of which sprung up in the month of December, and the last of
+them in the month of March. They contain, I suppose, in all about two
+thousand and five hundred lines; are known, or are to be known in due
+time, by the names of Table-Talk, The Progress of Error, Truth,
+Expostulation. Mr. Newton writes a preface, and Johnson is the
+publisher. The principal, I may say the only reason why I never
+mentioned to you, till now, an affair which I am <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>just going to make
+known to all the world (if that Mr. All-the-world should think it
+worth his knowing) has been this&mdash;that, till within these few days, I
+had not the honor to know it myself. This may seem strange, but it is
+true; for, not knowing where to find underwriters who would choose to
+insure them, and not finding it convenient to a purse like mine to run
+any hazard, even upon the credit of my own ingenuity, I was very much
+in doubt for some weeks whether any bookseller would be willing to
+subject himself to an ambiguity that might prove very expensive in
+case of a bad market. But Johnson has heroically set all peradventures
+at defiance, and takes the whole charge upon himself. So out I come. I
+shall be glad of my Translations from Vincent Bourne in your next
+frank. My muse will lay herself at your feet immediately on her first
+public appearance....</p>
+
+<p>If<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> a writer's friends have need of patience, how much more the
+writer! Your desire to see my muse in public, and mine to gratify you,
+must both suffer the mortification of delay. I expected that my
+trumpeter would have informed the world by this time of all that is
+needful for them to know upon such an occasion; and that an
+advertising blast, blown through every newspaper, would have said,
+"The poet is coming." But man, especially man that writes verse, is
+born to disappointments, as surely as printers and booksellers are
+born to be the most dilatory and tedious of all creatures. The plain
+English of this magnificent preamble is, that the season of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>publication is just elapsed, that the town is going into the country
+every day, and that my book can not appear till they return&mdash;that is
+to say, not till next winter. This misfortune, however, comes not
+without its attendant advantage: I shall now have, what I should not
+otherwise have had, an opportunity to correct the press myself; no
+small advantage upon any occasion, but especially important where
+poetry is concerned! A single erratum may knock out the brains of a
+whole passage, and that perhaps which, of all others, the unfortunate
+poet is the most proud of. Add to this, that now and then there is to
+be found in a printing-house a presumptuous intermeddler, who will
+fancy himself a poet too, and what is still worse, a better than he
+that employs him. The consequence is, that with cobbling, and
+tinkering, and patching on here and there a shred of his own, he makes
+such a difference between the original and the copy, that an author
+can not know his own work again. Now, as I choose to be responsible
+for nobody's dulness but my own, I am a little comforted when I
+reflect that it will be in my power to prevent all such impertinence;
+and yet not without your assistance. It will be quite necessary that
+the correspondence between me and Johnson should be carried on without
+the expense of postage, because proof-sheets would make double or
+treble letters, which expense, as in every instance it must occur
+twice, first when the packet is sent, and again when it is returned,
+would be rather inconvenient to me, who, you perceive, am forced to
+live by my wits, and to him, who hopes to get a little matter no doubt
+by the same means. Half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> a dozen franks therefore to me, and totidem
+to him, will be singularly acceptable, if you can, without feeling it
+in any respect a trouble, procure them for me&mdash;Johnson, Bookseller,
+St. Paul's Churchyard....</p>
+
+<p>The writing of so long a poem<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> is a serious business; and the
+author must know little of his own heart who does not in some degree
+suspect himself of partiality to his own production; and who is he
+that would not be mortified by the discovery that he had written five
+thousand lines in vain? The poem, however, which you have in hand will
+not of itself make a volume so large as the last, or as a bookseller
+would wish. I say this, because when I had sent Johnson five thousand
+verses, he applied for a thousand more. Two years since I began a
+piece which grew to the length of two hundred, and there stopt. I have
+lately resumed it, and I believe, shall finish it. But the subject is
+fruitful and will not be comprized in a smaller compass than seven or
+eight hundred verses. It turns on the question whether an education at
+school or at home be preferable, and I shall give the preference to
+the latter. I mean that it shall pursue the track of the former&mdash;that
+is to say, it shall visit Stock in its way to publication. My design
+also is to inscribe it to you. But you must see it first; and if,
+after having seen it, you should have any objection, tho it should be
+no bigger than the tittle of an i, I will deny myself that pleasure,
+and find no fault with your refusal.</p>
+
+<p>I have not been without thoughts of adding</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+<p>"John Gilpin" at the tail of all. He has made a good deal of noise in
+the world, and perhaps it may not be amiss to show, that, tho I write
+generally with a serious intention, I know how to be occasionally
+merry. The critical reviewers charged me with an attempt at humor.
+John having been more celebrated upon the score of humor than most
+pieces that have appeared in modern days, may serve to exonerate me
+from the imputation; but in this article I am entirely under your
+judgment, and mean to be set down by it. All these together will make
+an octavo like the last. I should have told you that the piece which
+now employs me is rime. I do not intend to write any more blank. It is
+more difficult than rime, and not so amusing in the composition. If,
+when you make the offer of my book to Johnson, he should stroke his
+chin, and look up to the ceiling and cry "Humph!"&mdash;anticipate him, I
+beseech you, at once, by saying&mdash;"that you know I should be sorry that
+he should undertake for me to his own disadvantage, or that my volume
+should be in any degree prest upon him. I make him the offer merely
+because I think he would have reason to complain of me if I did not."
+But that punctilio once satisfied, it is a matter of indifference to
+me what publisher sends me forth.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Letter to the Rev. John Newton, dated Olney, November
+30, 1783.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Letter to the Rev. William Unwin, dated "October 31,
+1779."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> Letter to the Rev. William Unwin, dated "Olney, May 1,
+1781."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> His first volume of verse.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> This paragraph is from another letter to Unwin, written
+three weeks later&mdash;May 23, 1781.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> This letter, addrest to Unwin, and dated "October 30,
+1784," refers to Cowper's poem "The Task."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="EDWARD_GIBBON" id="EDWARD_GIBBON"></a>EDWARD GIBBON</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1737, died in 1794; educated at Oxford, but was not
+graduated; became a Catholic, but soon renounced that faith;
+sent by his father to Lausanne, Switzerland, for instruction
+by a Calvinist minister in 1753; there met and fell in love
+with, but did not marry, Susanne Curchod; served in the
+militia, becoming a colonel in 1759-70; traveled in France
+and Italy in 1763-65; elected to Parliament in 1764; settled
+permanently in Lausanne in 1783; published the first volume
+of his "Decline and Fall" in 1776, and the last in 1778;
+wrote also "Memoirs of My Life and Writings."</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_15" id="I_15"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE ROMANCE OF HIS YOUTH<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I hesitate, from the apprehension of ridicule, when I approach the
+delicate subject of my early love. By this word I do not mean the
+polite attention, the gallantry, without hope or design, which has
+originated in the spirit of chivalry and is interwoven with the
+texture of French manners. I understand by this passion the union of
+desire, friendship and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single
+female, which prefers her to the rest of her sex, and which seeks her
+possession as the supreme or the sole happiness of our being. I need
+not blush at recollecting the object of my choice; and tho my love was
+disappointed of success, I am rather proud that I was once capable of
+feeling such a pure and exalted sentiment.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
+<p>The personal attractions of Mademoiselle Susan Curchod were
+embellished by the virtues and talents of the mind. Her fortune was
+humble, but her family was respectable. Her mother, a native of
+France, had preferred her religion to her country. The profession of
+her father did not extinguish the moderation and philosophy of his
+temper, and he lived content, with a small salary and laborious duty,
+in the obscure lot of minister of Crassy, in the mountains that
+separate the Pays de Vaud from the county of Burgundy. In the solitude
+of a sequestered village he bestowed a liberal and even learned
+education on his only daughter. She surpassed his hopes by her
+proficiency in the sciences and languages; and in her short visits to
+some relations at Lausanne, the wit, the beauty and erudition of
+Mademoiselle Curchod were the theme of universal applause.</p>
+
+<p>The report of such a prodigy awakened my curiosity; I saw and loved. I
+found her learned without pedantry, lively in conversation, pure in
+sentiment, and elegant in manners; and the first sudden emotion was
+fortified by the habits and knowledge of a more familiar acquaintance.
+She permitted me to make her two or three visits at her father's
+house. I passed some happy days there, in the mountains of Burgundy,
+and her parents honorably encouraged the connection. In a calm
+retirement the gay vanity of youth no longer fluttered in her bosom;
+she listened to the voice of truth and passion; and I might presume to
+hope that I had made some impression on a virtuous heart. At Crassy
+and Lausanne I indulged my dream of felicity: but on my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> return to
+England, I soon discovered that my father would not hear of this
+strange alliance, and that without his consent I was myself destitute
+and helpless. After a painful struggle I yielded to my fate: 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. My cure was accelerated by a
+faithful report of the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the lady
+herself; and my love subsided in friendship and esteem.</p>
+
+<p>The minister of Crassy soon afterward died; his stipend died with him;
+his daughter retired to Geneva, where, by teaching young ladies, she
+earned a hard subsistence for herself and her mother; but in her
+lowest distress she maintained a spotless reputation, and a dignified
+behavior. A rich banker of Paris, a citizen of Geneva, had the good
+fortune and good sense to discover and possess this inestimable
+treasure; and in the capital of taste and luxury she resisted the
+temptations of wealth, as she had sustained the hardships of
+indigence. The genius of her husband has exalted him to the most
+conspicuous station in Europe. In every change of prosperity and
+disgrace he has reclined on the bosom of a faithful friend; and
+Mademoiselle Curchod is now the wife of M. Necker,<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> the minister,
+and perhaps the legislator, of the French monarchy.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_15" id="II_15"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE INCEPTION AND COMPLETION OF HIS "DECLINE AND FALL"<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>It was at Rome, on the 15th of October, 1764, as I sat musing amidst
+the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted 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 of the empire:
+and, tho my reading and reflections began to point toward that object,
+some years elapsed, and several avocations intervened, before I was
+seriously engaged in the execution of that laborious work....</p>
+
+<p>I have presumed to mark the moment of conception: I shall now
+commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. It was on the day, or
+rather night, of the 27th of June, 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 berceau, or 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 recovery of my freedom, and
+perhaps the establishment of my fame. But my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>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 old and agreeable companion, and that
+whatsoever might be the future date of my history, the life of the
+historian must be short and precarious.</p>
+
+<p>I will add two facts which have seldom occurred in the composition of
+six, or at least of five, quartos. 1. My first rough manuscript,
+without any intermediate copy, has been sent to the press. 2. Not a
+sheet has been seen by any human eyes excepting those of the author
+and the printer: the faults and the merits are exclusively my own.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_11" id="III_11"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>THE FALL OF ZENOBIA<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a></h2>
+
+<h3>(271 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>)</h3>
+<p>Aurelian had no sooner secured the person and provinces of Tetricus,
+than he turned his arms against Zenobia, the celebrated queen of
+Palmyra<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> and the East. Modern Europe has produced several
+illustrious women who have sustained with glory the weight of empire;
+nor is our own age destitute of such distinguished characters.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p><p>But if we except the doubtful achievements of Semiramis, Zenobia is
+perhaps the only female whose superior genius broke through the
+servile indolence imposed on her sex by the climate and manners of
+Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of Egypt,
+equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that
+princess in chastity and valor.</p>
+
+<p>Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her
+sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in speaking of a lady these
+trifles become important). Her teeth were of a pearly whiteness, and
+her large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire, tempered by the most
+attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly
+understanding was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not
+ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possest in equal perfection the
+Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for
+her own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared
+the beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of the sublime
+Longinus.</p>
+
+<p>This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who, from a
+private station, raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon
+became the friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war,
+Odenathus passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting; he
+pursued with ardor the wild beasts of the desert&mdash;lions, panthers, and
+bears; and the ardor of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not
+inferior to his own. She had inured her constitution to fatigue,
+disdained the use of a covered carriage, generally appeared on
+horseback in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> a military habit, and sometimes marched several miles on
+foot at the head of the troops. The success of Odenathus was in a
+great measure ascribed to her incomparable prudence and fortitude.
+Their splendid victories over the Great King, whom they twice pursued
+as far as the gates of Ctesiphon,<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> laid the foundations of their
+united fame and power. The armies which they commanded, and the
+provinces which they had saved, acknowledged not any other sovereigns
+than their invincible chiefs. The Senate and people of Rome revered a
+stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, and even the
+insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his legitimate
+colleague....</p>
+
+<p>When Aurelian passed over into Asia against an adversary whose sex
+alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored
+obedience to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arms and
+intrigues of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he
+accepted the submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana, after
+an obstinate siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. The generous
+tho fierce temper of Aurelian abandoned the traitor to the rage of the
+soldiers: a superstitious reverence induced him to treat with lenity
+the countrymen of Apollonius the philosopher. Antioch was deserted on
+his approach, till the Emperor, by his salutary edicts, recalled the
+fugitives, and granted a general pardon to all who from necessity
+rather than choice had been engaged in the service of the Palmyrenian
+Queen. The unexpected mildness of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>such a conduct reconciled the minds
+of the Syrians, and as far as the gates of Emesa the wishes of the
+people seconded the terror of his arms.</p>
+
+<p>Zenobia would have ill deserved her reputation, had she indolently
+permitted the Emperor of the West to approach within a hundred miles
+of her capital. The fate of the East was decided in two great battles,
+so similar in almost every circumstance that we can scarcely
+distinguish them from each other, except by observing that the first
+was fought near Antioch and the second near Emesa. In both the Queen
+of Palmyra animated the armies by her presence, and devolved the
+execution of her orders on Zabdas, who had already signalized his
+military talents by the conquest of Egypt. The numerous forces of
+Zenobia consisted for the most part of light archers, and of heavy
+cavalry clothed in complete steel. The Moorish and Illyrian horse of
+Aurelian were unable to sustain the ponderous charge of their
+antagonists. They fled in real or affected disorder, engaged the
+Palmyrenians in a laborious pursuit, harassed them by a desultory
+combat, and at length discomfited this impenetrable but unwieldy body
+of cavalry. The light infantry, in the mean time, when they had
+exhausted their quivers, remaining without protection against a closer
+onset, exposed their naked sides to the swords of the legions.
+Aurelian had chosen these veteran troops, who were usually stationed
+on the Upper Danube, and whose valor had been severely tried in the
+Alemannic war. After the defeat of Emesa, Zenobia found it impossible
+to collect a third army. As far as the frontier of Egypt, the nations
+subject to her empire had joined the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> standard of the conqueror, who
+detached Probus, the bravest of his generals, to possess himself of
+the Egyptian provinces. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of
+Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every
+preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared, with the
+intrepidity of a heroine, that the last moment of her reign and of her
+life should be the same.</p>
+
+<p>Amid the barren deserts of Arabia, a few cultivated spots rise like
+islands out of the sandy ocean. Even the name of Tadmor, or Palmyra,
+by its signification in the Syriac as well as in the Latin language,
+denoted the multitude of palm-trees which afforded shade and verdure
+to that temperate region. The air was pure, and the soil, watered by
+some invaluable springs, was capable of producing fruits as well as
+corn. A place possest of such singular advantages, and situated at a
+convenient distance between the Gulf of Persia and the Mediterranean,
+was soon frequented by the caravans which conveyed to the nations of
+Europe a considerable part of the rich commodities of India. Palmyra
+insensibly increased into an opulent and independent city, and
+connecting the Roman and the Parthian monarchies by the mutual
+benefits of commerce was suffered to observe a humble neutrality, till
+at length after the victories of Trajan the little republic sunk into
+the bosom of Rome, and flourished more than one hundred and fifty
+years in the subordinate tho honorable rank of a colony. It was during
+that peaceful period, if we may judge from a few remaining
+inscriptions, that the wealthy Palmyrenians constructed those
+temples,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> palaces, and porticoes of Grecian architecture whose ruins,
+scattered over an extent of several miles, have deserved the curiosity
+of our travelers. The elevation of Odenathus and Zenobia appeared to
+reflect new splendor on their country, and Palmyra for a while stood
+forth the rival of Rome: but the competition was fatal, and ages of
+prosperity were sacrificed to a moment of glory....</p>
+
+<p>The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that in a very short
+time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the desert, and by
+the reasonable expectation that the kings of the East, and
+particularly the Persian monarch, would arm in the defense of their
+most natural ally. But fortune and the perseverance of Aurelian
+overcame every obstacle. The death of Sapor, which happened about this
+time, distracted the counsels of Persia, and the inconsiderable
+succors that attempted to relieve Palmyra were easily intercepted
+either by the arms or the liberality of the Emperor. From every part
+of Syria a regular succession of convoys safely arrived in the camp,
+which was increased by the return of Probus with his victorious troops
+from the conquest of Egypt. It was then that Zenobia resolved to fly.
+She mounted the fleetest of her dromedaries, and had already reached
+the banks of the Euphrates, about sixty miles from Palmyra, when she
+was overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian's light horse, seized, and
+brought back a captive to the feet of the Emperor. Her capital soon
+afterward surrendered, and was treated with unexpected lenity.</p>
+
+<p>When the Syrian Queen was brought into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> presence of Aurelian he
+sternly asked her, How she had presumed to rise in arms against the
+emperors of Rome! The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of
+respect and firmness: "Because I disdained to consider as Roman
+emperors an Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my
+conqueror and my sovereign." But as female fortitude is commonly
+artificial, so it is seldom steady or consistent. The courage of
+Zenobia deserted her in the hour of trial; she trembled at the angry
+clamors of the soldiers, who called aloud for her immediate execution,
+forgot the generous despair of Cleopatra which she had proposed as her
+model, and ignominiously purchased life by the sacrifice of her fame
+and her friends. It was to their counsels, which governed the weakness
+of her sex, that she imputed the guilt of her obstinate resistance; it
+was on their heads that she directed the vengeance of the cruel
+Aurelian. The fame of Longinus,<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> who was included among the
+numerous and perhaps innocent victims of her fear, will survive that
+of the Queen who betrayed or the tyrant who condemned him. Genius and
+learning were incapable of moving a fierce unlettered soldier, but
+they had served to elevate and harmonize the soul of Longinus. Without
+uttering a complaint he calmly followed the executioner, pitying his
+unhappy mistress, and bestowing comfort on his afflicted friends....</p>
+
+<p>But, however in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals Aurelian might
+indulge his pride, he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>behaved toward them with a generous clemency
+which was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. Princes who
+without success had defended their throne or freedom, were frequently
+strangled in prison as soon as the triumphal pomp ascended the
+Capitol. These usurpers, whom their defeat had convicted of the crime
+of treason, were permitted to spend their lives in affluence and
+honorable repose. The Emperor presented Zenobia with an elegant villa
+at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles from the capital; the Syrian
+queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, her daughters married into
+noble families and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV_5" id="IV_5"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>ALARIC'S ENTRY INTO ROME<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a></h2>
+
+<h3>(410 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>)</h3>
+<p>At the hour of midnight the Salarian gate was silently opened, and the
+inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound of the Gothic
+trumpet. Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of
+Rome, the imperial city which had subdued and civilized so
+considerable a part of mankind was delivered to the licentious fury of
+the tribes of Germany and Scythia.</p>
+
+<p>The proclamation of Alaric, when he forced <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>his entrance into a
+vanquished city, discovered, however, some regard for the laws of
+humanity and religion. He encouraged his troops boldly to seize the
+rewards of valor, and to enrich themselves with the spoils of a
+wealthy and effeminate people; but he exhorted them at the same time
+to spare the lives of the unresisting citizens, and to respect the
+churches of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul as holy and inviolable
+sanctuaries. Amidst the horrors of a nocturnal tumult, several of the
+Christian Goths displayed the fervor of a recent conversion; and some
+instances of their uncommon piety and moderation are related, and
+perhaps adorned, by the zeal of ecclesiastical writers.</p>
+
+<p>While the Barbarians roamed through the city in quest of prey, the
+humble dwelling of an aged virgin who had devoted her life to the
+service of the altar was forced open by one of the powerful Goths. He
+immediately demanded, tho in civil language, all the gold and silver
+in her possession; and was astonished at the readiness with which she
+conducted him to a splendid hoard of massy plate of the richest
+materials and the most curious workmanship. The Barbarian viewed with
+wonder and delight this valuable acquisition, till he was interrupted
+by a serious admonition addrest to him in the following words:
+"These," said she, "are the consecrated vessels belonging to St.
+Peter; if you presume to touch them, the sacrilegious deed will remain
+on your conscience. For my part, I dare not keep what I am unable to
+defend." The Gothic captain, struck with reverential awe, dispatched a
+messenger to inform the King of the treasure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> which he had discovered,
+and received a peremptory order from Alaric that all the consecrated
+plate and ornaments should be transported, without damage or delay, to
+the church of the Apostle.</p>
+
+<p>From the extremity, perhaps, of the Quirinal hill, to the distant
+quarter of the Vatican, a numerous detachment of Goths, marching in
+order of battle through the principal streets, protected with
+glittering arms the long train of their devout companions, who bore
+aloft on their heads the sacred vessels of gold and silver; and the
+martial shouts of the Barbarians were mingled with the sound of
+religious psalmody. From all the adjacent houses a crowd of Christians
+hastened to join this edifying procession; and a multitude of
+fugitives, without distinction of age, or rank, or even of sect, had
+the good fortune to escape to the secure and hospitable sanctuary of
+the Vatican. The learned work "Concerning the City of God" was
+professedly composed by St. Augustine to justify the ways of
+Providence in the destruction of the Roman greatness. He celebrates
+with peculiar satisfaction this memorable triumph of Christ, and
+insults his adversaries by challenging them to produce some similar
+example of a town taken by storm, in which the fabulous gods of
+antiquity had been able to protect either themselves or their deluded
+votaries.</p>
+
+<p>In the sack of Rome, some rare and extraordinary examples of Barbarian
+virtue have been deservedly applauded. But the holy precincts of the
+Vatican and the Apostolic churches could receive a very small
+proportion of the Roman people; many thousand warriors, more
+especially of the Huns who served under the standard of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> Alaric, were
+strangers to the name, or at least to the faith of Christ; and we may
+suspect without any breach of charity or candor that in the hour of
+savage license, when every passion was inflamed and every restraint
+was removed, the precepts of the gospel seldom influenced the behavior
+of the Gothic Christians. The writers the best disposed to exaggerate
+their clemency have freely confest that a cruel slaughter was made of
+the Romans, and that the streets of the city were filled with dead
+bodies, which remained without burial during the general
+consternation. The despair of the citizens was sometimes converted
+into fury; and whenever the Barbarians were provoked by opposition,
+they extended the promiscuous massacre to the feeble, the innocent and
+the helpless. The private revenge of forty thousand slaves was
+exercised without pity or remorse; and the ignominious lashes which
+they had formerly received were washed away in the blood of the guilty
+or obnoxious families. The matrons and virgins of Rome were exposed to
+injuries more dreadful, in the apprehension of chastity, than death
+itself....</p>
+
+<p>The want of youth, or beauty, or chastity protected the greatest part
+of the Roman women from the danger of a rape. But avarice is an
+insatiate and universal passion, since the enjoyment of almost every
+object that can afford pleasure to the different tastes and tempers of
+mankind may be procured by the possession of wealth. In the pillage of
+Rome, a just preference was given to gold and jewels, which contain
+the greatest value in the smallest compass and weight; but after these
+portable riches had been removed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> by the more diligent robbers, the
+palaces of Rome were rudely stript of their splendid and costly
+furniture. The sideboards of massy plate, and the variegated wardrobes
+of silk and purple, were irregularly piled in the wagons that always
+followed the march of a Gothic army. The most exquisite works of art
+were roughly handled or wantonly destroyed; many a statue was melted
+for the sake of the precious materials; and many a vase, in the
+division of the spoil, was shivered into fragments by the stroke of a
+battle-ax. The acquisition of riches served only to stimulate the
+avarice of the rapacious Barbarians, who proceeded by threats, by
+blows, and by tortures to force from their prisoners the confession of
+hidden treasure. Visible splendor and expense were alleged as the
+proof of a plentiful fortune; the appearance of poverty was imputed to
+a parsimonious disposition; and the obstinacy of some misers, who
+endured the most cruel torments before they would discover the secret
+object of their affection, was fatal to many unhappy wretches, who
+expired under the lash for refusing to reveal their imaginary
+treasures.</p>
+
+<p>The edifices of Rome, tho the damage has been much exaggerated,
+received some injury from the violence of the Goths. At their entrance
+through the Salarian gate, they fired the adjacent houses to guide
+their march and to distract the attention of the citizens; the flames,
+which encountered no obstacle in the disorder of the night, consumed
+many private and public buildings; and the ruins of the palace of
+Sallust remained, in the age of Justinian, a stately monument of the
+Gothic conflagration. Yet a contemporary historian has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> observed that
+fire could scarcely consume the enormous beams of solid brass, and
+that the strength of man was insufficient to subvert the foundations
+of ancient structures. Some truth may possibly be concealed in his
+devout assertion that the wrath of Heaven supplied the imperfections
+of hostile rage, and that the proud Forum of Rome, decorated with the
+statues of so many gods and heroes, was leveled in the dust by the
+stroke of lightning.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="V_1" id="V_1"></a>V</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DEATH OF HOSEIN<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Hosein served with honor against the Christians in the siege of
+Constantinople. The primogeniture of the line of Hashem, and the holy
+character of the grandson of the apostle, had centered in his person,
+and he was at liberty to prosecute his claim against Yezid, the tyrant
+of Damascus, whose vices he despised, and whose title he had never
+deigned to acknowledge. A list was secretly transmitted from Cufa to
+Medina, of one hundred and forty thousand Moslems, who profest their
+attachment to his cause, and who were eager to draw their swords so
+soon as he should appear on the banks of the Euphrates.</p>
+
+<p>Against the advice of his wisest friends, he resolved to trust his
+person and family in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>hands of a perfidious people. He traversed
+the desert of Arabia with a timorous retinue of women and children;
+but as he approached the confines of Irak,<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> he was alarmed by the
+solitary or hostile face of the country, and suspected either the
+defection or ruin of his party. His fears were just; Obeidollah, the
+governor of Cufa, had extinguished the first sparks of an
+insurrection; and Hosein, in the plain of Kerbela, was encompassed by
+a body of five thousand horse, who intercepted his communication with
+the city and the river. He might still have escaped to a fortress in
+the desert, that had defied the power of C&aelig;sar<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> and Chosroes,<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a>
+and confided in the fidelity of the tribe of Tai, which would have
+armed ten thousand warriors in his defense. In a conference with the
+chief of the enemy, he proposed the option of three honorable
+conditions; that he should be allowed to return to Medina, or be
+stationed in a frontier garrison against the Turks, or safely
+conducted to the presence of Yezid.<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> But the commands of the
+caliph, or his lieutenant, were stern and absolute; and Hosein was
+informed that he must either submit as a captive and a criminal to the
+commander of the faithful, or expect the consequences of his
+rebellion. "Do you think," replied he, "to terrify me with death?" And
+during the short respite of a night, he prepared <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>with calm and solemn
+resignation to encounter his fate. He checked the lamentations of his
+sister Fatima, who deplored the impending ruin of his house. "Our
+trust," said Hosein, "is in God alone. All things, both in heaven and
+earth, must perish and return to their Creator. My brother, my father,
+my mother, were better than me, and every Mussulman has an example in
+the prophet." He prest his friends to consult their safety by a timely
+flight; they unanimously refused to desert or survive their beloved
+master; and their courage was fortified by a fervent prayer and the
+assurance of paradise.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning of the fatal day, he mounted on horseback, with his
+sword in one hand and Koran in the other: his generous band of martyrs
+consisted only of thirty-two horse and forty foot; but their flanks
+and rear were secured by the tentropes, and by a deep trench which
+they had filled with lighted fagots, according to the practise of the
+Arabs. The enemy advanced with reluctance; and one of their chiefs
+deserted, with thirty followers, to claim the partnership of
+inevitable death. In every close onset, or single combat, the despair
+of the Fatimites was invincible; but the surrounding multitudes galled
+them from a distance with a cloud of arrows, and the horses and men
+were successively slain: a truce was allowed on both sides for the
+hour of prayer; and the battle at length expired by the death of the
+last of the companions of Hosein. Alone, weary, and wounded, he seated
+himself at the door of his tent. As he tasted a drop of water, he was
+pierced in the mouth with a dart; and his son and nephew, two
+beautiful youths<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> were killed in his arms. He lifted his hands to
+heaven, they were full of blood, and he uttered a funeral prayer for
+the living and the dead.</p>
+
+<p>In a transport of despair his sister issued from the tent, and adjured
+the general of the Cufians that he would not suffer Hosein to be
+murdered before his eyes; a tear trickled down his venerable beard;
+and the boldest of his soldiers fell back on every side as the dying
+hero threw himself among them. The remorseless Shamer, a name detested
+by the faithful, reproached their cowardice; and the grandson of
+Mohammed was slain with three and thirty strokes of lances and swords.
+After they had trampled on his body, they carried his head to the
+castle of Cufa, and the inhuman Obeidollah struck him on the mouth
+with a cane. "Alas!" exclaimed an aged Mussulman, "on these lips have
+I seen the lips of the apostle of God!" In a distant age and climate
+the tragic scene of the death of Hosein will awaken the sympathy of
+the coldest reader. On the annual festival of his martyrdom, in the
+devout pilgrimage to his sepulcher, his Persian votaries abandon their
+souls to the religious frenzy of sorrow and indignation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="VI_1" id="VI_1"></a>VI</h2>
+
+<h2>THE CAUSES OF THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CITY OF ROME<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>In the last days of Pope Eugenius the Fourth, two of his servants, the
+learned Poggius<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> and a friend, ascended the Capitoline Hill,
+reposed themselves among the ruins of columns and temples, and viewed
+from that commanding spot the wide and various prospect of desolation.
+The place and the object gave ample scope for moralizing on the
+vicissitudes of fortune, which spares neither man nor the proudest of
+his works, which buries empires and cities in a common grave; and it
+was agreed that in proportion to her former greatness the fall of Rome
+was the more awful and deplorable:</p>
+
+<p>"Her primeval state, such as she might appear in a remote age, when
+Evander entertained the stranger of Troy, has been delineated by the
+fancy of Virgil. This Tarpeian Rock was then a savage and solitary
+thicket; in the time of the poet it was crowned with the golden roofs
+of a temple; the temple is overthrown, the gold has been pillaged, the
+wheel of fortune has accomplished <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>her revolution, and the sacred
+ground is again disfigured with thorns and brambles. The hill of the
+Capitol, on which we sit, was formerly the head of the Roman Empire,
+the citadel of the earth, the terror of kings; illustrated by the
+footsteps of so many triumphs, enriched with the spoils and tributes
+of so many nations. This spectacle of the world, how is it fallen! how
+changed! how defaced! The path of victory is obliterated by vines, and
+the benches of the senators are concealed by a dunghill. Cast your
+eyes on the Palatine Hill, and seek among the shapeless and enormous
+fragments the marble theater, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the
+porticoes of Nero's palace; survey the other hills of the city,&mdash;the
+vacant space is interrupted only by ruins and gardens. The Forum of
+the Roman people, where they assembled to enact their laws and elect
+their magistrates, is now inclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs,
+or thrown open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The public
+and private edifices that were founded for eternity lie prostrate,
+naked, and broken, like the limbs of a mighty giant; and the ruin is
+the more visible, from the stupendous relics that have survived the
+injuries of time and fortune."...</p>
+
+<p>After a diligent inquiry, I can discern four principal causes of the
+ruin of Rome, which continued to operate in a period of more than a
+thousand years. I. The injuries of time and nature. II. The hostile
+attacks of the Barbarians and Christians. III. The use and abuse of
+the materials. And IV. The domestic quarrels of the Romans.</p>
+
+<p>I. The art of man is able to construct monu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>ments far more permanent
+than the narrow span of his own existence; yet these monuments, like
+himself, are perishable and frail; and in the boundless annals of time
+his life and his labors must equally be measured as a fleeting moment.
+Of a simple and solid edifice it is not easy, however, to circumscribe
+the duration. As the wonder of ancient days, the Pyramids attracted
+the curiosity of the ancients: a hundred generations, the leaves of
+autumn, have dropt into the grave; and after the fall of the Pharaohs
+and Ptolemies, the C&aelig;sars and caliphs, the same Pyramids stand erect
+and unshaken above the floods of the Nile. A complex figure of various
+and minute parts is more accessible to injury and decay; and the
+silent lapse of time is often accelerated by hurricanes and
+earthquakes, by fires and inundations. The air and earth have
+doubtless been shaken, and the lofty turrets of Rome have tottered
+from their foundations, but the seven hills do not appear to be placed
+on the great cavities of the globe; nor has the city in any age been
+exposed to the convulsions of nature which in the climate of Antioch,
+Lisbon, or Lima, have crumbled in a few moments the works of ages in
+the dust. Fire is the most powerful agent of life and death....</p>
+
+<p>From her situation, Rome is exposed to the danger of frequent
+inundations. Without excepting the Tiber, the rivers that descend from
+either side of the Apennine have a short and irregular course; a
+shallow stream in the summer heats; an impetuous torrent when it is
+swelled in the spring or winter by the fall of rain and the melting of
+the snows. When the current is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> repelled from the sea by adverse
+winds, when the ordinary bed is inadequate to the weight of waters,
+they rise above the banks and overspread without limits or control the
+plains and cities of the adjacent country. Soon after the triumph of
+the first Punic war, the Tiber was increased by unusual rains; and the
+inundation, surpassing all former measure of time and place, destroyed
+all the buildings that were situate below the hills of Rome. According
+to the variety of ground, the same mischief was produced by different
+means; and the edifices were either swept away by the sudden impulse,
+or dissolved and undermined by the long continuance of the flood.
+Under the reign of Augustus the same calamity was renewed: the lawless
+river overturned the palaces and temples on its banks; and after the
+labors of the Emperor in cleansing and widening the bed that was
+incumbered with ruins, the vigilance of his successors was exercised
+by similar dangers and designs. The project of diverting into new
+channels the Tiber itself, or some of the dependent streams, was long
+opposed by superstition and local interests; nor did the use
+compensate the toil and costs of the tardy and imperfect execution.
+The servitude of rivers is the noblest and most important victory
+which man has obtained over the licentiousness of nature; and if such
+were the ravages of the Tiber under a firm and active government, what
+could oppose, or who can enumerate, the injuries of the city after the
+fall of the Western Empire? A remedy was at length produced by the
+evil itself: the accumulation of rubbish and the earth that has been
+washed down from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> hills is supposed to have elevated the plain of
+Rome fourteen or fifteen feet perhaps above the ancient level: and the
+modern city is less accessible to the attacks of the river.</p>
+
+<p>II. The crowd of writers of every nation who impute the destruction of
+the Roman monuments to the Goths and the Christians, have neglected to
+inquire how far they were animated by a hostile principle, and how far
+they possest the means and the leisure to satiate their enmity. In the
+preceding volumes of this history I have described the triumph of
+barbarism and religion; and I can only resume in a few words their
+real or imaginary connection with the ruin of ancient Rome. Our fancy
+may create or adopt a pleasing romance: that the Goths and Vandals
+sallied from Scandinavia, ardent to avenge the flight of Odin, to
+break the chains and to chastise the oppressors of mankind; that they
+wished to burn the records of classic literature, and to found their
+national architecture on the broken members of the Tuscan and
+Corinthian orders. But in simple truth, the Northern conquerors were
+neither sufficiently savage nor sufficiently refined to entertain such
+aspiring ideas of destruction and revenge. The shepherds of Scythia
+and Germany had been educated in the armies of the empire, whose
+discipline they acquired and whose weakness they invaded; with the
+familiar use of the Latin tongue, they had learned to reverence the
+name and titles of Rome; and tho incapable of emulating, they were
+more inclined to admire than to abolish the arts and studies of a
+brighter period.</p>
+
+<p>In the transient possession of a rich and un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>resisting capital, the
+soldiers of Alaric and Genseric were stimulated by the passions of a
+victorious army; amidst the wanton indulgence of lust or cruelty,
+portable wealth was the object of their search; nor could they derive
+either pride or pleasure from the unprofitable reflection that they
+had battered to the ground the works of the consuls and C&aelig;sars. Their
+moments were indeed precious: the Goths evacuated Rome on the sixth,
+the Vandals on the fifteenth day, and tho it be far more difficult to
+build than to destroy, their hasty assault would have made a slight
+impression on the solid piles of antiquity. We may remember that both
+Alaric and Genseric affected to spare the buildings of the city; that
+they subsisted in strength and beauty under the auspicious government
+of Theodoric; and that the momentary resentment of Totila was disarmed
+by his own temper and the advice of his friends and enemies. From
+these innocent Barbarians the reproach may be transferred to the
+Catholics of Rome. The statues, altars, and houses of the demons were
+an abomination in their eyes; and in the absolute command of the city,
+they might labor with zeal and perseverance to erase the idolatry of
+their ancestors. The demolition of the temples in the East affords to
+<i>them</i> an example of conduct, and to <i>us</i> an argument of belief; and
+it is probable that a portion of guilt or merit may be imputed with
+justice to the Roman proselytes. Yet their abhorrence was confined to
+the monuments of heathen superstition; and the civil structures that
+were dedicated to the business or pleasure of society might be
+preserved without injury or scandal. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> change of religion was
+accomplished not by a popular tumult, but by the decrees of the
+emperors, of the Senate, and of time. Of the Christian hierarchy, the
+bishops of Rome were commonly the most prudent and least fanatic; nor
+can any positive charge be opposed to the meritorious act of saving
+and converting the majestic structure of the Pantheon.</p>
+
+<p>III. The value of any object that supplies the wants or pleasures of
+mankind is compounded of its substance and its form, of the materials
+and the manufacture. Its price must depend on the number of persons by
+whom it may be acquired and used; on the extent of the market; and
+consequently on the ease or difficulty of remote exportation according
+to the nature of the commodity, its local situation, and the temporary
+circumstances of the world. The Barbarian conquerors of Rome usurped
+in a moment the toil and treasure of successive ages; but except the
+luxuries of immediate consumption, they must view without desire all
+that could not be removed from the city in the Gothic wagons or the
+fleet of the Vandals. Gold and silver were the first objects of their
+avarice; as in every country, and in the smallest compass, they
+represent the most ample command of the industry and possessions of
+mankind. A vase or a statue of those precious metals might tempt the
+vanity of some Barbarian chief; but the grosser multitude, regardless
+of the form, was tenacious only of the substance, and the melted
+ingots might be readily divided and stamped into the current coin of
+the empire. The less active or less fortunate robbers were reduced to
+the baser plunder of brass, lead, iron,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> and copper: whatever had
+escaped the Goths and Vandals was pillaged by the Greek tyrants; and
+the Emperor Constans in his rapacious visit stript the bronze tiles
+from the roof of the Pantheon.</p>
+
+<p>The edifices of Rome might be considered as a vast and various mine:
+the first labor of extracting the materials was already performed; the
+metals were purified and cast; the marbles were hewn and polished; and
+after foreign and domestic rapine had been satiated, the remains of
+the city, could a purchaser have been found, were still venal. The
+monuments of antiquity had been left naked of their precious
+ornaments; but the Romans would demolish with their own hands the
+arches and walls, if the hope of profit could surpass the cost of the
+labor and exportation. If Charlemagne had fixt in Italy the seat of
+the Western Empire, his genius would have aspired to restore, rather
+than to violate, the works of the C&aelig;sars: but policy confined the
+French monarch to the forests of Germany; his taste could be gratified
+only by destruction; and the new palace of Aix-la-Chapelle was
+decorated with the marbles of Ravenna and Rome. Five hundred years
+after Charlemagne, a king of Sicily, Robert&mdash;the wisest and most
+liberal sovereign of the age&mdash;was supplied with the same materials by
+the easy navigation of the Tiber and the sea; and Petrarch sighs an
+indignant complaint that the ancient capital of the world should adorn
+from her own bowels the slothful luxury of Naples.</p>
+
+<p>But these examples of plunder or purchase were rare in the darker
+ages; and the Romans,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> alone and unenvied, might have applied to their
+private or public use the remaining structures of antiquity, if in
+their present form and situation they had not been useless in a great
+measure to the city and its inhabitants. The walls still described the
+old circumference, but the city had descended from the seven hills
+into the Campus Martius; and some of the noblest monuments which had
+braved the injuries of time were left in a desert, far remote from the
+habitations of mankind....</p>
+
+<p>IV. I have reserved for the last the most potent and forcible cause of
+destruction, the domestic hostilities of the Romans themselves. Under
+the dominion of the Greek and French emperors, the peace of the city
+was disturbed by accidental tho frequent seditions: it is from the
+decline of the latter, from the beginning of the tenth century, that
+we may date the licentiousness of private war, which violated with
+impunity the laws of the Code and the gospel, without respecting the
+majesty of the absent sovereign or the presence and person of the
+vicar of Christ.</p>
+
+<p>In a dark period of five hundred years, Rome was perpetually afflicted
+by the sanguinary quarrels of the nobles and the people, the Guelphs
+and Ghibelines, the Colonna and Ursini; and if much has escaped the
+knowledge and much is unworthy of the notice, of history, I have
+exposed in the two preceding chapters the causes and effects of the
+public disorders. At such a time, when every quarrel was decided by
+the sword and none could trust their lives or properties to the
+impotence of law, the powerful citizens were armed for safety, or
+offense, against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> the domestic enemies whom they feared or hated.
+Except Venice alone, the same dangers and designs were common to all
+the free republics of Italy; and the nobles usurped the prerogative of
+fortifying their houses and erecting strong towers that were capable
+of resisting a sudden attack. The cities were filled with these
+hostile edifices; and the example of Lucca, which contained three
+hundred towers, her law which confined their height to the measure of
+four-score feet, may be extended with suitable latitude to the more
+opulent and populous states. The first step of the senator Brancaleone
+in the establishment of peace and justice, was to demolish (as we have
+already seen) one hundred and forty of the towers of Rome; and in the
+last days of anarchy and discord, as late as the reign of Martin the
+Fifth, forty-four still stood in one of the thirteen or fourteen
+regions of the city.</p>
+
+<p>To this mischievous purpose the remains of antiquity were most readily
+adapted: the temples and arches afforded a broad and solid basis for
+the new structures of brick and stone; and we can name the modern
+turrets that were raised on the triumphal monuments of Julius C&aelig;sar,
+Titus, and the Antonines. With some slight alterations, a theater, an
+amphitheater, a mausoleum, was transformed into a strong and spacious
+citadel. I need not repeat that the mole of Adrian has assumed the
+title and form of the castle of St. Angelo; the Septizonium of Severus
+was capable of standing against a royal army; the sepulcher of Metella
+has sunk under its outworks; the theaters of Pompey and Marcellus were
+occupied by the Savelli and Orsini families;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> and the rough fortress
+has been gradually softened to the splendor and elegance of an Italian
+palace.</p>
+
+<p>The fame of Julius the Second, Leo the Tenth, and Sixtus the Fifth is
+accompanied by the superior merit of Bramante and Fontana, of Raphael
+and Michael Angelo; and the same munificence which had been displayed
+in palaces and temples was directed with equal zeal to revive and
+emulate the labors of antiquity. Prostrate obelisks were raised from
+the ground and erected in the most conspicuous places; of the eleven
+aqueducts of the C&aelig;sars and consuls, three were restored; the
+artificial rivers were conducted over a long series of old, or of new
+arches, to discharge into marble basins a flood of salubrious and
+refreshing waters: and the spectator, impatient to ascend the steps of
+St. Peter's, is detained by a column of Egyptian granite, which rises
+between two lofty and perpetual fountains to the height of one hundred
+and twenty feet. The map, the description, the monuments of ancient
+Rome have been elucidated by the diligence of the antiquarian and the
+student; and the footsteps of heroes, the relics, not of superstition
+but of empire, are devoutly visited by a new race of pilgrims from the
+remote and once savage countries of the North.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> From the "Memoirs."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> She has now an even greater title to remembrance, as the
+mother of Madame de St&auml;el.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> From the "Memoirs."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> Palmyra, of which only imposing ruins of the Roman
+period now remain, was situated on an oasis in a desert east of Syria.
+Its foundation is ascribed to Solomon. Palmyra had commercial
+importance as a center of the caravan trade of the East.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> A city of Mesopotamia, on the Tigris, twenty miles
+south-east of Babylon.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> The Greek philosopher, author of the famous essay "On
+Sublimity," who was Zenobia's counselor and the instructor of her
+children.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." Alaric
+was king of the West Goths. He died in the year Rome was sacked, and
+was buried with vast treasure in the bed of the river Busento.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> From Chapter 50 of "The Decline and Fall of the Roman
+Empire." Hosein was a grandson of Mohammed, founder of the faith that
+bears his name.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Babylonia.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> The Roman emperor still retained the title of C&aelig;sar.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Chosroes is better known in our day as Phusrau, one of
+the kings of Persia.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> The reputed founder of the Mohammedan sect called
+Yezidis.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> From the final chapter of "The Decline and Fall of the
+Roman Empire."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> A Tuscan author and antiquarian, born in 1381, died in
+1495; at one time secretary of the papal curia; author of a history of
+Florence, but chiefly remembered for having recovered works in Roman
+literature, including eight orations of Cicero.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>END OF VOLUME IV.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS, RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. IV (OF X)--GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND II***</p>
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted
+to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)--Great Britain and Ireland II, by Various, Edited
+by Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+
+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 Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)--Great Britain and Ireland II
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+Release Date: June 8, 2007  [eBook #21775]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS,
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. IV (OF X)--GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND II***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joseph R. Hauser, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 21775-h.htm or 21775-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/7/7/21775/21775-h/21775-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/7/7/21775/21775-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BEST
+_of the_
+WORLD'S CLASSICS
+
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE
+
+HENRY CABOT LODGE
+Editor-in-Chief
+
+FRANCIS W. HALSEY
+Associate Editor
+
+With an Introduction, Biographical and Explanatory Notes, etc.
+
+In Ten Volumes
+
+Vol. IV
+
+GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: DR. JOHNSON, GOLDSMITH, POPE, and GIBBON]
+
+
+
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+New York and London
+Copyright, 1909, by
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+
+
+
+
+
+The Best of the World's Classics
+
+VOL. IV
+
+GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+1672-1800
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+VOL. IV--GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+
+SIR RICHARD STEELE--(Born in 1672, died in 1729.)
+
+     I     Of Companions and Flatterers
+
+    II     The Story-Teller and His Art.
+           (From _The Guardian_)
+
+   III     Sir Roger and the Widow.
+           (From _The Spectator_)
+
+    IV     The Coverley Family Portraits.
+           (From _The Spectator_)
+
+     V     On Certain Symptoms of Greatness.
+           (From _The Tatler_)
+
+    VI     How to Be Happy tho Married.
+           (From _The Tatler_)
+
+LORD BOLINGBROKE--(Born in 1678, died in 1751.)
+
+     I     Of the Shortness of Human Life
+
+    II     Rules for the Study of History.
+           (One of the "Letters on the Study of History")
+
+ALEXANDER POPE--(Born in 1688, died in 1744.)
+
+     I     An Ancient English Country Seat.
+           (A Letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu)
+
+    II     His Compliments to Lady Mary.
+           (A Letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu)
+
+   III     How to Make an Epic Poem.
+           (From _The Guardian_)
+
+LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU--(Born in 1689, died in 1762.)
+
+     I     On Happiness in the Matrimonial State.
+           (A Letter to Edward Wortley Montagu before she married him)
+
+    II     Inoculation for the Smallpox.
+           (A Letter to Sarah Criswell, written from Adrianople, Turkey)
+
+LORD CHESTERFIELD--(Born in 1694, died in 1773.)
+
+     I     Of Good Manners, Dress and the World.
+           (From the "Letters to His Son")
+
+    II     Of Attentions to Ladies.
+           (From the "Letters to His Son")
+
+HENRY FIELDING--(Born in 1707, died in 1754.)
+
+     I     Tom the Hero Enters the Stage.
+           (From "Tom Jones")
+
+    II     Partridge Sees Garrick at the Play.
+           (From "Tom Jones")
+
+   III     Mr. Adams in a Political Light.
+           (From "Joseph Andrews")
+
+SAMUEL JOHNSON--(Born in 1709, died in 1784.)
+
+     I     On Publishing His "Dictionary."
+           (From the Preface to the "Dictionary")
+
+    II     Pope and Dryden Compared.
+           (From the "Lives of the Poets")
+
+   III     Letter to Chesterfield on the Completion of the "Dictionary."
+           (From Boswell's "Life")
+
+    IV     On the Advantages of Living in a Garret.
+           (From _The Rambler_)
+
+DAVID HUME--(Born in 1711, died in 1776.)
+
+     I     The Character of Queen Elizabeth.
+           (From the "History of England")
+
+    II     The Defeat of the Armada.
+           (From the "History of England")
+
+   III     The First Principles of Government
+
+LAURENCE STERNE--(Born in 1713, died in 1768.)
+
+     I     The Starling in Captivity.
+           (From "The Sentimental Journey")
+
+    II     To Moulines with Maria.
+           (From "The Sentimental Journey")
+
+   III     The Death of LeFevre.
+           (From "Tristram Shandy")
+
+    IV     Passages from the Romance of My Uncle Toby and the Widow.
+           (From "Tristram Shandy")
+
+THOMAS GRAY--(Born in 1716, died in 1771.)
+
+     I     Warwick Castle.
+           (A Letter to Thomas Wharton)
+
+    II     To His Friend Mason on the Death of Mason's Mother
+
+   III     On His Own Writings.
+           (A Letter to Horace Walpole)
+
+    IV     His Friendship for Bonstetten.
+           (From a Letter to Bonstetten)
+
+HORACE WALPOLE--(Born in 1717, died in 1797.)
+
+     I     Hogarth.
+           (From the "Anecdotes of Painting in England")
+
+    II     The War in America.
+           (From a Letter written at Strawberry Hill)
+
+   III     The Death of George II.
+           (A Letter to Sir Horace Mann)
+
+GILBERT WHITE--(Born in 1720, died in 1793.)
+
+           The Chimney Swallow.
+           (From "The Natural History of Selborne")
+
+ADAM SMITH--(Born in 1723, died in 1790.)
+
+     I     Of Ambition Misdirected.
+           (From the "Theory of Moral Sentiments")
+
+    II     The Advantages of a Division of Labor.
+           (From "The Wealth of Nations")
+
+SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE--(Born in 1723, died in 1780.)
+
+           Professional Soldiers in Free Countries.
+           (From the "Commentaries")
+
+OLIVER GOLDSMITH--(Born in 1728, died in 1774.)
+
+     I     The Ambitions of the Vicar's Family.
+           (From "The Vicar of Wakefield")
+
+    II     Sagacity in Insects.
+           (From "The Bee")
+
+   III     A Chinaman's View of London.
+           (From the "Citizen of the World")
+
+EDMUND BURKE--(Born in 1729, died in 1797.)
+
+     I     The Principles of Good Taste.
+           (From "The Sublime and Beautiful")
+
+    II     A Letter to a Noble Lord
+
+   III     On the Death of His Son
+
+    IV     Marie Antoinette.
+           (From the "Reflections on the Revolution in France")
+
+WILLIAM COWPER--(Born in 1731, died in 1800.)
+
+     I     Of Keeping One's Self Employed.
+           (A Letter to John Newton)
+
+    II     Of Johnson's Treatment of Milton.
+           (Letter to the Rev. William Unwin)
+
+   III     On the Publication of His Books.
+           (Letter to the Rev. William Unwin)
+
+EDWARD GIBBON--(Born in 1737, died in 1794.)
+
+     I     The Romance of His Youth.
+           (From the "Memoirs")
+
+    II     The Inception and Completion of the "Decline and Fall."
+           (From the "Memoirs")
+
+   III     The Fall of Zenobia.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+    IV     Alaric's Entry into Rome.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+     V     The Death of Hosein.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+    VI     The Causes of the Destruction of the City of Rome.
+           (From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire")
+
+
+
+
+
+GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND--II
+
+1672-1800
+
+
+
+
+SIR RICHARD STEELE
+
+     Born in Ireland in 1672; died in Wales in 1729; companion of
+     Addison at Oxford; served in the army in 1694, becoming a
+     captain; elected to Parliament, but expelled for using
+     seditious language; knighted under George I; quarreled with
+     Addison in 1719; founded the Tatler, and next to Addison,
+     was the chief writer for the Spectator.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF COMPANIONS AND FLATTERERS
+
+
+An old acquaintance who met me this morning seemed overjoyed to see
+me, and told me I looked as well as he had known me do these forty
+years; but, continued he, not quite the man you were when we visited
+together at Lady Brightly's. Oh! Isaac, those days are over. Do you
+think there are any such fine creatures now living as we then
+conversed with? He went on with a thousand incoherent circumstances,
+which, in his imagination, must needs please me; but they had the
+quite contrary effect. The flattery with which he began, in telling me
+how well I wore, was not disagreeable; but his indiscreet mention of a
+set of acquaintance we had outlived, recalled ten thousand things to
+my memory, which made me reflect upon my present condition with
+regret. Had he indeed been so kind as, after a long absence, to
+felicitate me upon an indolent and easy old age, and mentioned how
+much he and I had to thank for, who at our time of day could walk
+firmly, eat heartily and converse cheerfully, he had kept up my
+pleasure in myself. But of all mankind, there are none so shocking as
+these injudicious civil people. They ordinarily begin upon something
+that they know must be a satisfaction; but then, for fear of the
+imputation of flattery, they follow it with the last thing in the
+world of which you would be reminded. It is this that perplexes civil
+persons. The reason that there is such a general outcry among us
+against flatterers is that there are so very few good ones. It is the
+nicest art in this life, and is a part of eloquence which does not
+want the preparation that is necessary to all other parts of it, that
+your audience should be your well-wishers; for praise from an enemy is
+the most pleasing of all commendations.
+
+It is generally to be observed, that the person most agreeable to a
+man for a constancy, is he that has no shining qualities, but is a
+certain degree above great imperfections, whom he can live with as his
+inferior, and who will either overlook or not observe his little
+defects. Such an easy companion as this, either now and then throws
+out a little flattery, or lets a man silently flatter himself in his
+superiority to him. If you take notice, there is hardly a rich man in
+the world who has not such a led friend of small consideration, who is
+a darling for his insignificancy. It is a great ease to have one in
+our own shape a species below us, and who, without being listed in our
+service, is by nature of our retinue. These dependents are of
+excellent use on a rainy day, or when a man has not a mind to dress;
+or to exclude solitude, when one has neither a mind to that nor to
+company. There are of this good-natured order who are so kind to
+divide themselves, and do these good offices to many. Five or six of
+them visit a whole quarter of the town, and exclude the spleen,
+without fees, from the families they frequent. If they do not
+prescribe physic, they can be company when you take it.
+
+Very great benefactors to the rich, or those whom they call people at
+their ease, are your persons of no consequence. I have known some of
+them, by the help of a little cunning, make delicious flatterers. They
+know the course of the town, and the general characters of persons; by
+this means they will sometimes tell the most agreeable falsehoods
+imaginable. They will acquaint you that such one of a quite contrary
+party said, that tho you were engaged in different interests, yet he
+had the greatest respect for your good sense and address. When one of
+these has a little cunning, he passes his time in the utmost
+satisfaction to himself and his friends; for his position is never to
+report or speak a displeasing thing to his friend. As for letting him
+go on in an error, he knows advice against them is the office of
+persons of greater talents and less discretion.
+
+The Latin word for a flatterer (_assentator_) implies no more than a
+person that barely consents; and indeed such a one, if a man were able
+to purchase or maintain him, can not be bought too dear. Such a one
+never contradicts you, but gains upon you, not by a fulsome way of
+commending you in broad terms, but liking whatever you propose or
+utter; at the same time is ready to beg your pardon, and gainsay you
+if you chance to speak ill of yourself. An old lady is very seldom
+without such a companion as this, who can recite the names of all her
+lovers, and the matches refused by her in the days when she minded
+such vanities--as she is pleased to call them, tho she so much
+approves the mention of them. It is to be noted, that a woman's
+flatterer is generally elder than herself, her years serving to
+recommend her patroness's age, and to add weight to her complaisance
+in all other particulars.
+
+We gentlemen of small fortunes are extremely necessitous in this
+particular. I have indeed one who smokes with me often; but his parts
+are so low, that all the incense he does me is to fill his pipe with
+me, and to be out at just as many whiffs as I take. This is all the
+praise or assent that he is capable of, yet there are more hours when
+I would rather be in his company than that of the brightest man I
+know. It would be a hard matter to give an account of this inclination
+to be flattered; but if we go to the bottom of it, we shall find that
+the pleasure in it is something like that of receiving money which lay
+out. Every man thinks he has an estate of reputation, and is glad to
+see one that will bring any of it home to him; it is no matter how
+dirty a bag it is conveyed to him in, or by how clownish a messenger,
+so the money is good. All that we want to be pleased with flattery, is
+to believe that the man is sincere who gives it us. It is by this one
+accident that absurd creatures often outrun the most skilful in this
+art. Their want of ability is here an advantage, and their bluntness,
+as it is the seeming effect of sincerity, is the best cover to
+artifice.
+
+It is indeed, the greatest of injuries to flatter any but the unhappy,
+or such as are displeased with themselves for some infirmity. In this
+latter case we have a member of our club, that, when Sir Jeffrey falls
+asleep, wakens him with snoring. This makes Sir Jeffrey hold up for
+some moments the longer, to see there are men younger than himself
+among us, who are more lethargic than he is.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE STORY-TELLER AND HIS ART[1]
+
+
+I have often thought that a story-teller is born, as well as a poet.
+It is, I think, certain, that some men have such a peculiar cast of
+mind, that they see things in another light than men of grave
+dispositions. Men of a lively imagination and a mirthful temper will
+represent things to their hearers in the same manner as they
+themselves were affected with them; and whereas serious spirits might
+perhaps have been disgusted at the sight of some odd occurences in
+life, yet the very same occurrences shall please them in a well-told
+story, where the disagreeable parts of the images are concealed, and
+those only which are pleasing exhibited to the fancy. Story-telling is
+therefore not an art, but what we call a "knack"; it doth not so much
+subsist upon wit as upon humor; and I will add, that it is not perfect
+without proper gesticulations of the body, which naturally attend
+such merry emotions of the mind. I know very well that a certain
+gravity of countenance sets some stories off to advantage, where the
+hearer is to be surprized in the end. But this is by no means a
+general rule; for it is frequently convenient to aid and assist by
+cheerful looks and whimsical agitations.
+
+I will go yet further, and affirm that the success of a story very
+often depends upon the make of the body, and the formation of the
+features, of him who relates it. I have been of this opinion ever
+since I criticized upon the chin of Dick Dewlap. I very often had the
+weakness to repine at the prosperity of his conceits, which made him
+pass for a wit with the widow at the coffee-house and the ordinary
+mechanics that frequent it; nor could I myself forbear laughing at
+them most heartily, tho upon examination I thought most of them very
+flat and insipid. I found, after some time, that the merit of his wit
+was founded upon the shaking of a fat paunch, and the tossing up of a
+pair of rosy jowls. Poor Dick had a fit of sickness, which robbed him
+of his fat and his fame at once; and it was full three months before
+he regained his reputation, which rose in proportion to his floridity.
+He is now very jolly and ingenious, and hath a good constitution for
+wit.
+
+Those who are thus adorned with the gifts of nature, are apt to show
+their parts with too much ostentation. I would therefore advise all
+the professors of this art never to tell stories but as they seem to
+grow out of the subject-matter of the conversation, or as they serve
+to illustrate or enliven it. Stories that are very common are
+generally irksome; but may be aptly introduced, provided they be only
+hinted at, and mentioned by way of allusion. Those that are altogether
+new, should never be ushered in without a short and pertinent
+character of the chief persons concerned, because, by that means, you
+may make the company acquainted with them; and it is a certain rule,
+that slight and trivial accounts of those who are familiar to us,
+administer more mirth than the brightest points of wit in unknown
+characters.
+
+A little circumstance in the complexion of dress of the man you are
+talking of, sets his image before the hearer, if it be chosen aptly
+for the story. Thus, I remember Tom Lizard, after having made his
+sisters merry with an account of a formal old man's way of
+complimenting, owned very frankly that his story would not have been
+worth one farthing, if he had made the hat of him whom he represented
+one inch narrower. Besides the marking distinct characters, and
+selecting pertinent circumstances, it is likewise necessary to leave
+off in time, and end smartly; so that there is a kind of drama in the
+forming of a story; and the manner of conducting and pointing it is
+the same as in an epigram. It is a miserable thing, after one hath
+raised the expectation of the company by humorous characters and a
+pretty conceit, to pursue the matter too far. There is no retreating;
+and how poor is it for a story-teller to end his relation by saying,
+"that's all!"
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+SIR ROGER AND THE WIDOW[2]
+
+
+In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my
+time, it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which
+my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than
+a disappointment in love. It happened this evening that we fell into a
+very pleasing walk at a distance from his house. As soon as we came
+into it. "It is," quoth the good old man, looking round him with a
+smile, "very hard that any part of my land should be settled upon one
+who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I
+could not see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I
+should reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest
+hand of any woman in the world. You are to know, this was the place
+wherein I used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come
+into it, but the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had
+actually walked with that beautiful creature under these shades. I
+have been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several of
+these trees; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt
+the removing of their passion by the methods which serve only to
+imprint it deeper. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in
+the world."
+
+Here followed a profound silence; and I was not displeased to observe
+my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever
+before taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause,
+he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life,
+with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had
+ever had before; and gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his
+before it received that stroke which has ever since affected his words
+and actions. But he went on as follows:
+
+"I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow
+the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this
+spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good
+neighborhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country sports and
+recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was
+obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my servants,
+officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man
+(who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public
+occasion of showing my figure and behavior to advantage. You may
+easily imagine to yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall,
+rode well, and was very well drest, at the head of a whole county,
+with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted. I
+can assure you, I was not a little pleased with the kind looks and
+glances I had from all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall
+where the assizes were held.
+
+"But when I came there, a beautiful creature, in a widow's habit, sat
+in court to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This
+commanding creature (who was born for the destruction of all who
+behold her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the
+whispers of all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I
+warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, until
+she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she
+encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her
+bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it but I bowed like a great
+surprized booby; and knowing her cause was to be the first which came
+on, I cried, like a great captivated calf as I was, 'Make way for the
+defendant's witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county
+immediately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow.
+During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I
+warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took
+opportunities to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would
+be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting
+before so much company, that not only I, but the whole court, was
+prejudiced in her favor; and all that the next heir to her husband had
+to urge was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when it came to
+her counsel to reply, there was not half so much said as every one
+besides in the court thought he could have urged to her advantage.
+
+"You must understand, sir, this perverse woman is one of those
+unaccountable creatures that secretly rejoice in the admiration of
+men, but indulge themselves in no further consequences. Hence it is
+that she has ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her
+slaves in town to those in the country, according to the seasons of
+the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures of
+friendship. She is always accompanied by a confidant, who is witness
+to her daily protestations against our sex, and consequently a bar to
+her first steps toward love upon the strength of her own maxims and
+declarations.
+
+"However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress of mine has
+distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir
+Roger de Coverley was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes in
+the country. I was told she said so by one who thought he rallied me;
+but upon the strength of this slender encouragement of being thought
+least detestable, I made new liveries, new paired my coach horses,
+sent them all to town to be bitted, and taught to throw their legs
+well, and move all together before I pretended to cross the country,
+and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the
+character of my fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make my
+addresses. The particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame
+your wishes, and yet command respect. To make her mistress of this
+art, she has a greater share of knowledge, wit, and good sense, than
+is usual even among men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the
+race of women. If you will not let her go on with a certain artifice
+with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm herself with her
+real charms, and strike you with admiration instead of desire. It is
+certain that if you were to behold the whole woman, there is that
+dignity in her aspect, that composure in her motion, that complacency
+in her manner, that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes you
+fear. But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no country
+gentleman can approach her without being a jest.
+
+"As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house, I was admitted
+to her presence with great civility; at the same time she placed
+herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude as I think you call
+the posture of a picture, that she discovered new charms, and I at
+last came toward her with such an awe as made me speechless. This she
+no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a
+discourse to me concerning love and honor, as they both are followed
+by pretenders, and the real votaries to them. When she discust these
+points in a discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as the
+best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, she asked me whether
+she was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these important
+particulars. Her confidant sat by her, and upon my being in the last
+confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers, turning to her,
+says, 'I am very glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon this subject,
+and seems resolved to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when
+he pleases to speak.'
+
+"They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour
+meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and
+took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in her
+way, and she as often directed a discourse to me which I do not
+understand.
+
+"This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most
+beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with
+all mankind, and you must make love to her, as you would conquer the
+sphinx, by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there
+were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man
+be, who could converse with a creature--but, after all, you may be
+sure her heart is fixt on some one or other; and yet I have been
+credibly informed; but who can believe half that is said! After she
+had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom, and adjusted
+her tucker. Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding
+her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently; her voice in her
+ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know
+I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and
+she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the
+country. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world.
+I can assure you, sir, were you to behold her, you would be in the
+same condition; for as her speech is music, her form is angelic. But I
+find I grow irregular while I am talking of her; but, indeed, it would
+be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh, the excellent
+creature! she is as inimitable to all women as she is inaccessible to
+all men."
+
+I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him toward the
+house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced
+that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which
+appears in some parts of my friend's discourse; tho he has so much
+command of himself as not directly to mention her.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE COVERLEY FAMILY PORTRAITS[3]
+
+
+I was this morning walking in the gallery, when Sir Roger entered at
+the end opposite to me, and, advancing toward me, said he was glad to
+meet me among his relations the de Coverleys, and hoped I liked the
+conversation of so much good company who were as silent as myself. I
+knew he alluded to the pictures, and as he is a gentleman who does not
+a little value himself upon his ancient descent, I expected he would
+give me some account of them. We were now arrived at the upper end of
+the gallery, when the knight faced toward one of the pictures, and as
+we stood before it, he entered into the matter, after his blunt way of
+saying things, as they occur to his imagination, without regular
+introduction, or care to preserve the appearance of chain of thought.
+
+"It is," said he, "worth while to consider the force of dress; and how
+the persons of one age differ from those of another, merely by that
+only. One may observe also, that the general fashion of one age has
+been followed by one particular set of people in another, and by them
+preserved from one generation to another. Thus the vast jutting coat
+and small bonnet, which was the habit in Henry the Seventh's time, is
+kept on in the yeomen of the guard; not without a good and politic
+view, because they look a foot taller, and a foot and a half broader;
+besides, that the cap leaves the face expanded, and consequently more
+terrible, and fitter to stand at the entrance of palaces.
+
+"This predecessor of ours, you see, is drest after this manner, and
+his cheeks would be no larger than mine, were he in a hat as I am. He
+was the last man that won a prize in the Tilt-yard (which is now a
+common street before Whitehall). You see the broken lance that lies
+there by his right foot. He shivered that lance of his adversary all
+to pieces; and bearing himself, look you, sir, in this manner, at the
+same time he came within the target of the gentleman who rode against
+him, and taking him with incredible force before him on the pommel of
+his saddle, he in that manner rode the tournament over, with an air
+that showed he did it rather to perform the rule of the lists than
+expose his enemy; however, it appeared he knew how to make use of a
+victory, and with a gentle trot he marched up to a gallery, where
+their mistress sat (for they were rivals), and let him down with
+laudable courtesy and pardonable insolence. I do not know but it might
+be exactly where the coffee-house is now.
+
+"You are to know this my ancestor was not only a military genius, but
+fit also for the arts of peace, for he played on the bass viol as well
+as any gentleman at court; you see where his viol hangs by his
+basket-hilt sword. The action at the Tilt-yard you may be sure won the
+fair lady, who was a maid of honor, and the greatest beauty of her
+time; here she stands the next picture. You see, sir, my
+great-great-great-grandmother has on the new-fashioned petticoat,
+except that the modern is gathered at the waist. My grandmother
+appears as if she stood in a large drum, whereas, the ladies now walk
+as if they were in a go-cart. For all this lady was bred at court, she
+became an excellent country wife, she brought ten children, and when I
+show you the library, you shall see in her own hand (allowing for the
+difference of the language) the best receipt now in English both for a
+hasty pudding and a white-pot.
+
+"If you please to fall back a little, because it is necessary to look
+at the three next pictures at one view; these are three sisters. She
+on the right hand, who is so very beautiful, died a maid; the next to
+her, still handsomer, had the same fate, against her will; this homely
+thing in the middle had both their portions added to her own, and was
+stolen by a neighboring gentleman, a man of stratagem and resolution,
+for he poisoned three mastiffs to come at her, and knocked down two
+deer-stealers in carrying her off. Misfortunes happen in all families.
+The theft of this romp, and so much money, was no great matter to our
+estate. But the next heir that possess it was this soft gentleman whom
+you see there. Observe the small buttons, the little boots, the laces,
+the slashes about his clothes, and, above all, the posture he is drawn
+in (which, to be sure, was his own choosing), you see he sits with one
+hand on a desk writing and looking, as it were, another way, like an
+easy writer, or a sonneteer. He was one of those that had too much wit
+to know how to live in the world; he was a man of no justice, but
+great good manners; he ruined everybody that had anything to do with
+him, but never said a rude thing in his life; the most indolent person
+in the world; he would sign a deed that passed away half his estate
+with his gloves on, but would not put on his hat before a lady if it
+were to save his country. He is said to be the first that made love by
+squeezing the hand. He left the estate with ten thousand pounds debt
+upon it; but, however, by all hands I have been informed that he was
+every way the finest gentleman in the world. That debt lay heavy on
+our house for one generation, but it was retrieved by a gift from that
+honest man you see there, a citizen of our name, but nothing at all
+akin to us. I know Sir Andrew Freeport has said behind my back that
+this man was descended from one of the ten children of the maid of
+honor I showed you above; but it was never made out. We winked at the
+thing, indeed, because money was wanting at that time."
+
+Here I saw my friend a little embarrassed, and turned my face to the
+next portraiture. Sir Roger went on with his account of the gallery in
+the following manner:
+
+"This man [pointing to him I looked at] I take to be the honor of our
+house. Sir Humphrey de Coverley; he was in his dealings as punctual as
+a tradesman, and as generous as a gentleman. He would have thought
+himself as much undone by breaking his word, as if it were to be
+followed by bankruptcy. He served his country as a knight of the shire
+to his dying day. He found it no easy matter to maintain an integrity
+in his words and actions, even in things that regarded the offices
+which were incumbent upon him, in the care of his own affairs and
+relations of life, and therefore dreaded (tho he had great talents) to
+go into employments of state, where he must be exposed to the snares
+of ambition. Innocence of life and great ability were the
+distinguishing parts of his character; the latter, he had often
+observed, had led to the destruction of the former, and he used
+frequently to lament that great and good had not the same
+signification. He was an excellent husbandman, but had resolved not to
+exceed such a degree of wealth; all above it he bestowed in secret
+bounties many years after the sum he aimed at for his own use was
+attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, but to a decent old age
+spent the life and fortune which was superfluous to himself, in the
+service of his friends and neighbors."
+
+Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Roger ended the discourse of
+this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the servant, that this
+his ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly escaped being killed in the
+civil wars. "For," said he, "he was sent out of the field upon a
+private message the day before the battle of Worcester." The whim of
+narrowly escaping by having been within a day of danger, with other
+matters above mentioned, mixed with good sense, left me at a loss
+whether I was more delighted with my friend's wisdom or simplicity.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+ON CERTAIN SYMPTOMS OF GREATNESS[4]
+
+
+There is no affection of the mind so much blended in human nature, and
+wrought into our very constitution, as pride. It appears under a
+multitude of disguises, and breaks out in ten thousand different
+symptoms. Every one feels it in himself, and yet wonders to see it in
+his neighbor. I must confess, I met with an instance of it the other
+day where I should very little have expected it. Who would believe the
+proud person I am going to speak of is a cobbler upon Ludgate hill?
+This artist being naturally a lover of respect, and considering that
+his circumstances are such that no man living will give it him, has
+contrived the figure of a beau, in wood; who stands before him in a
+bending posture, with his hat under his left arm, and his right hand
+extended in such a manner as to hold a thread, a piece of wax, or an
+awl, according to the particular service in which his master thinks
+fit to employ him. When I saw him, he held a candle in this obsequious
+posture. I was very well pleased with the cobbler's invention, that
+had so ingeniously contrived an inferior, and stood a little while
+contemplating this inverted idolatry, wherein the image did homage to
+the man. When we meet with such a fantastic vanity in one of this
+order, it is no wonder if we may trace it through all degrees above
+it, and particularly through all the steps of greatness.
+
+We easily see the absurdity of pride when it enters into the heart of
+a cobbler; tho in reality it is altogether as ridiculous and
+unreasonable, wherever it takes possession of a human creature. There
+is no temptation to it from the reflection upon our being in general,
+or upon any comparative perfection, whereby one man may excel another.
+The greater a man's knowledge is, the greater motive he may seem to
+have for pride; but in the same proportion as the one rises the other
+sinks, it being the chief office of wisdom to discover to us our
+weaknesses and imperfections.
+
+As folly is the foundation of pride, the natural superstructure of it
+is madness. If there was an occasion for the experiment, I would not
+question to make a proud man a lunatic in three weeks' time, provided
+I had it in my power to ripen his frenzy with proper applications. It
+is an admirable reflection in Terence, where it is said of a parasite,
+"_Hic homines ex stultis facit insanos._" "This fellow," says he, "has
+an art of converting fools into madmen." When I was in France, the
+region of complaisance and vanity, I have often observed that a great
+man who has entered a levee of flatterers humble and temperate has
+grown so insensibly heated by the court which was paid him on all
+sides, that he has been quite distracted before he could get into his
+coach.
+
+If we consult the collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find most of
+them are beholden to their pride for their introduction into that
+magnificent palace. I had, some years ago, the curiosity to inquire
+into the particular circumstances of these whimsical freeholders; and
+learned from their own mouths the condition and character of each of
+them. Indeed, I found that all I spoke to were persons of quality.
+There were at that time five duchesses, three earls, two heathen gods,
+an emperor, and a prophet. There were also a great number of such as
+were locked up from their estates, and others who concealed their
+titles. A leather-seller of Taunton whispered me in the ear that he
+was the "Duke of Monmouth," but begged me not to betray him. At a
+little distance from him sat a tailor's wife, who asked me, as I went,
+if I had seen the sword-bearer, upon which I presumed to ask her who
+she was, and was answered, "My lady mayoress."
+
+I was very sensibly touched with compassion toward these miserable
+people; and, indeed, extremely mortified to see human nature capable
+of being thus disfigured. However, I reaped this benefit from it, that
+I was resolved to guard myself against a passion which makes such
+havoc in the brain, and produces so much disorder in the imagination.
+For this reason I have endeavored to keep down the secret swellings of
+resentment, and stifle the very first suggestions of self-esteem; to
+establish my mind in tranquillity, and over-value nothing in my own or
+in another's possession.
+
+For the benefit of such whose heads are a little turned, tho not to so
+great a degree as to qualify them for the place of which I have been
+now speaking, I shall assign one of the sides of the college which I
+am erecting, for the cure of this dangerous distemper.
+
+The most remarkable of the persons, whose disturbance arises from
+pride, and whom I shall use all possible diligence to cure, are such
+as are hidden in the appearance of quite contrary habits and
+dispositions. Among such, I shall, in the first place, take care of
+one who is under the most subtle species of pride that I have observed
+in my whole experience.
+
+The patient is a person for whom I have a great respect, as being an
+old courtier, and a friend of mine in my youth. The man has but a bare
+subsistence, just enough to pay his reckoning with us at the Trumpet;
+but, by having spent the beginning of his life is the hearing of great
+men and persons of power, he is always promising to do good offices to
+introduce every man he converses with into the world; will desire one
+of ten times his substance to let him see him sometimes, and hints to
+him that he does not forget him. He answers to matters of no
+consequence with great circumspection; but, however, maintains a
+general civility in his words and actions, and an insolent benevolence
+to all whom he has to do with. This he practises with a grave tone and
+air; and tho I am his senior by twelve years, and richer by forty
+pounds per annum, he had yesterday the impudence to commend me to my
+face, and tell me, "he should be always ready to encourage me." In a
+word, he is a very insignificant fellow, but exceeding gracious. The
+best return I can make him for his favors is to carry him myself to
+Bedlam and see him well taken care of.
+
+The next person I shall provide for is of a quite contrary character,
+that has in him all the stiffness and insolence of quality, without a
+grain of sense or good-nature, to make it either respected or
+beloved. His pride has infected every muscle of his face; and yet,
+after all his endeavors to show mankind that he contemns them, he is
+only neglected by all that see him, as not of consequence enough to be
+hated.
+
+For the cure of this particular sort of madness, it will be necessary
+to break through all forms with him, and familiarize his carriage by
+the use of a good cudgel. It may likewise be of great benefit to make
+him jump over a stick half a dozen times every morning.
+
+A third, whom I have in my eye, is a young fellow, whose lunacy is
+such that he boasts of nothing but what he ought to be ashamed of. He
+is vain of being rotten, and talks publicly of having committed crimes
+which he ought to be hanged for by the laws of his country.
+
+There are several others whose brains are hurt with pride, and whom I
+may hereafter attempt to recover; but shall conclude my present list
+with an old woman, who is just dropping into her grave, that talks of
+nothing but her birth. Tho she has not a tooth in her head, she
+expects to be valued for the blood in her veins, which she fancies is
+much better than that which glows in the cheeks of Belinda, and sets
+half the town on fire.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+HOW TO BE HAPPY THO MARRIED[5]
+
+
+My brother Tranquillus being gone out of town for some days, my sister
+Jenny sent me word she would come and dine with me, and therefore
+desired me to have no other company, I took care accordingly, and was
+not a little pleased to see her enter the room with a decent and
+matron-like behavior, which I thought very much became her. I saw she
+had a great deal to say to me, and easily discovered in her eyes, and
+the air of her countenance, that she had abundance of satisfaction in
+her heart, which she longed to communicate. However, I was resolved to
+let her break into her discourse her own way, and reduced her to a
+thousand little devices and intimations to bring me to the mention of
+her husband. But finding I was resolved not to name him, she began of
+her own accord. "My husband," said she, "gives his humble service to
+you," to which I only answered, "I hope he is well"; and, without
+waiting for a reply, fell into other subjects.
+
+She at last was out of all patience, and said, with a smile and manner
+that I thought had more beauty and spirit than I had ever observed
+before in her, "I did not think, brother, you had been so ill-natured.
+You have seen, ever since I came in, that I had a mind to talk of my
+husband, and you will not be so kind as to give me an occasion."
+
+"I did not know," said I, "but it might be a disagreeable subject to
+you. You do not take me for so old-fashioned a fellow as to think of
+entertaining a young lady with the discourse of her husband. I know
+nothing is more acceptable than to speak of one who is to be so, but
+to speak of one who is so! indeed, Jenny, I am a better-bred man than
+you think me."
+
+She showed a little dislike at my raillery; and, by her bridling up, I
+perceived she expected to be treated hereafter not as Jenny Distaff,
+but Mrs. Tranquillus. I was very well pleased with this change in her
+humor; and, upon talking with her on several subjects, I could not but
+fancy I saw a great deal of her husband's way and manner in her
+remarks, her phrases, the tone of her voice, and the very air of her
+countenance. This gave me an unspeakable satisfaction, not only
+because I had found her a husband, from whom she could learn many
+things that were laudable, but also because I looked upon her
+imitation of him as an infallible sign that she entirely loved him.
+This is an observation that I never knew fail, tho I do not remember
+that any other has made it. The natural shyness of her sex hindered
+her from telling me the greatness of her own passion; but I easily
+collected it from the representation she gave me of his.
+
+"I have everything," says she, "in Tranquillus, that I can wish for;
+and enjoy in him, what, indeed, you have told me were to be met with
+in a good husband, the fondness of a lover, the tenderness of a
+parent, and the intimacy of a friend."
+
+It transported me to see her eyes swimming in tears of affection when
+she spoke. "And is there not, dear sister," said I, "more pleasure in
+the possession of such a man than in all the little impertinencies of
+balls, assemblies, and equipage, which it cost me so much pains to
+make you contemn?"
+
+She answered, smiling, "Tranquillus has made me a sincere convert in a
+few weeks, tho I am afraid you could not have done it in your whole
+life. To tell you truly, I have only one fear hanging upon me, which
+is apt to give me trouble in the midst of all my satisfactions: I am
+afraid, you must know, that I shall not always make the same amiable
+appearance in his eye that I do at present. You know, brother
+Bickerstaff, that you have the reputation of a conjurer; and, if you
+have any one secret in your art to make your sister always beautiful,
+I should be happier than if I were mistress of all the worlds you have
+shown me in a starry night."
+
+"Jenny," said I, "without having recourse to magic, I shall give you
+one plain rule that will not fail of making you always amiable to a
+man who has so great a passion for you, and is of so equal and
+reasonable a temper as Tranquillus. Endeavor to please, and you must
+please; be always in the same disposition, as you are when you ask for
+this secret, and you may take my word, you will never want it. An
+inviolable fidelity, good humor, and complacency of temper outlive all
+the charms of a fine face, and make the decays of it invisible."
+
+We discoursed very long upon this head, which was equally agreeable to
+us both; for, I must confess, as I tenderly love her, I take as much
+pleasure in giving her instructions for her welfare, as she herself
+does in receiving them. I proceeded, therefore, to inculcate these
+sentiments by relating a very particular passage that happened within
+my own knowledge.
+
+There were several of us making merry at a friend's house in a country
+village, when the sexton of the parish church entered the room in a
+sort of surprize, and told us, "that as he was digging a grave in the
+chancel, a little blow of his pickax opened a decayed coffin, in which
+there were several written papers." Our curiosity was immediately
+raised, so that we went to the place where the sexton had been at
+work, and found a great concourse of people about the grave. Among the
+rest there was an old woman, who told us the person buried there was a
+lady whose name I do not think fit to mention, tho there is nothing in
+the story but what tends very much to her honor. This lady lived
+several years an exemplary pattern of conjugal love, and, dying soon
+after her husband, who every way answered her character in virtue and
+affection, made it her death-bed request, "that all the letters which
+she had received from him, both before and after her marriage, should
+be buried in the coffin with her." These, I found upon examination,
+were the papers before us. Several of them had suffered so much by
+time that I could only pick out a few words; as my soul! lilies!
+roses! dearest angel! and the like. One of them, which was legible
+throughout, ran thus:
+
+_Madam_:--
+
+If you would know the greatness of my love, consider that of your own
+beauty. That blooming countenance, that snowy bosom, that graceful
+person, return every moment to my imagination; the brightness of your
+eyes hath hindered me from closing mine since I last saw you. You may
+still add to your beauties by a smile. A frown will make me the most
+wretched of men, as I am the most passionate of lovers.
+
+It filled the whole company with a deep melancholy, to compare the
+description of the letter with the person that occasioned it, who was
+now reduced to a few crumbling bones, and a little moldering heap of
+earth. With much ado I deciphered another letter which began with, "My
+dear, dear wife." This gave me a curiosity to see how the style of one
+written in marriage differed from one written in courtship. To my
+surprize, I found the fondness rather augmented than lessened, tho the
+panegyric turned upon a different accomplishment. The words were as
+follows:
+
+Before this short absence from you, I did not know that I loved you so
+much as I really do; tho, at the same time, I thought I loved you as
+much as possible. I am under great apprehension lest you should have
+any uneasiness whilst I am defrauded of my share in it, and can not
+think of tasting any pleasures that you do not partake with me. Pray,
+my dear, be careful of your health, if for no other reason but because
+you know I could not outlive you. It is natural in absence to make
+professions of an inviolable constancy; but toward so much merit it
+is scarce a virtue, especially when it is but a bare return to that of
+which you have given me such continued proofs ever since our first
+acquaintance. I am, etc.
+
+It happened that the daughter of these two excellent persons was by
+when I was reading this letter. At the sight of the coffin, in which
+was the body of her mother, near that of her father, she melted into a
+flood of tears. As I had heard a great character of her virtue, and
+observed in her this instance of filial piety, I could not resist my
+natural inclination, of giving advice to young people, and therefore
+addrest myself to her. "Young lady," said I, "you see how short is the
+possession of that beauty, in which nature has been so liberal to you.
+You find the melancholy sight before you is a contradiction to the
+first letter that you heard on that subject; whereas, you may observe
+the second letter, which celebrates your mother's constancy, is
+itself, being found in this place, an argument of it. But, madam, I
+ought to caution you not to think the bodies that lie before you your
+father and your mother. Know their constancy is rewarded by a nobler
+union than by this mingling of their ashes, in a state where there is
+no danger or possibility of a second separation."
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 1: From the Guardian.]
+
+[Footnote 2: From the Spectator.]
+
+[Footnote 3: From the Spectator.]
+
+[Footnote 4: From the Tatler.]
+
+[Footnote 5: From the Tatler.]
+
+
+
+
+LORD BOLINGBROKE
+
+     Born in 1678, died in 1751; his name, before he was a peer,
+     Henry St. John; entered Parliament in 1701, acting with the
+     Tories; Secretary of War in 1704-08; Secretary of State in
+     1710-14; created Viscount Bolingbroke in 1714; opposed the
+     accession of the House of Hanover, and on the death of Queen
+     Anne in 1714, fled to France, entering the service of the
+     Pretender, by whom he was soon dismissed and then returned
+     to England; a friend of Pope and Swift, Pope's "Essay on
+     Man" being addrest to him.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF THE SHORTNESS OF HUMAN LIFE
+
+
+I think very differently from most men of the time we have to pass,
+and the business we have to do, in this world. I think we have more of
+one, and less of the other, than is commonly supposed. Our want of
+time, and the shortness of human life, are some of the principal
+commonplace complaints which we prefer against the established order
+of things; they are the grumblings of the vulgar, and the pathetic
+lamentations of the philosopher; but they are impertinent and impious
+in both. The man of business despises the man of pleasure for
+squandering his time away; the man of pleasure pities or laughs at the
+man of business for the same thing; and yet both concur superciliously
+and absurdly to find fault with the Supreme Being for having given
+them so little time. The philosopher, who misspends it very often as
+much as the others, joins in the same cry, and authorizes this
+impiety. Theophrastus thought it extremely hard to die at ninety, and
+to go out of the world when he had just learned how to live in it. His
+master Aristotle found fault with nature for treating man in this
+respect worse than several other animals; both very unphilosophically!
+and I love Seneca the better for his quarrel with the Stagirite[6] on
+this head.
+
+We see, in so many instances, a just proportion of things, according
+to their several relations to one another, that philosophy should lead
+as to conclude this proportion preserved, even where we can not
+discern it; instead of leading us to conclude that it is not preserved
+where we do not discern it, or where we think that we see the
+contrary. To conclude otherwise is shocking presumption. It is to
+presume that the system of the universe would have been more wisely
+contrived, if creatures of our low rank among intellectual natures had
+been called to the councils of the Most High; or that the Creator
+ought to mend His work by the advice of the creature. That life which
+seems to our self-love so short, when we compare it with the ideas we
+frame of eternity, or even with the duration of some other beings,
+will appear sufficient, upon a less partial view, to all the ends of
+the creation, and of a just proportion in the successive course of
+generations. The term itself is long; we render it short; and the want
+we complain of flows from our profusion, not from our poverty.
+
+Let us leave the men of pleasure and of business, who are often
+candid enough to own that they throw away their time, and thereby to
+confess that they complain of the Supreme Being for no other reason
+than this, that He has not proportioned His bounty to their
+extravagance. Let us consider the scholar and philosopher, who, far
+from owning that he throws any time away, reproves others for doing
+it; that solemn mortal who abstains from the pleasures, and declines
+the business of the world, that he may dedicate his whole time to the
+search of truth and the improvement of knowledge. When such a one
+complains of the shortness of human life in general, or of his
+remaining share in particular, might not a man more reasonable, tho
+less solemn, expostulate thus with him: "Your complaint is indeed
+consistent with your practise; but you would not possibly renew your
+complaint if you reviewed your practise. Tho reading makes a scholar,
+yet every scholar is not a philosopher, nor every philosopher a wise
+man. It cost you twenty years to devour all the volumes on one side of
+your library; you came out a great critic in Latin and Greek, in the
+Oriental tongues, in history and chronology; but you were not
+satisfied. You confest that these were the _literae nihil sanantes_,
+and you wanted more time to acquire other knowledge. You have had this
+time; you have passed twenty years more on the other side of your
+library, among philosophers, rabbis, commentators, school-men, and
+whole legions of modern doctors. You are extremely well versed in all
+that has been written concerning the nature of God, and of the soul of
+man, about matter and form, body and spirit, and space and eternal
+essences, and incorporeal substances, and the rest of those profound
+speculations. You are a master of the controversies that have arisen
+about nature and grace, about predestination and freewill, and all the
+other abstruse questions that have made so much noise in the schools,
+and done so much hurt in the world. You are going on, as fast as the
+infirmities you have contracted will permit, in the same course of
+study; but you begin to foresee that you shall want time, and you make
+grievous complaints of the shortness of human life. Give me leave now
+to ask you how many thousand years God must prolong your life in order
+to reconcile you to His wisdom and goodness?
+
+"It is plain, at least highly probable, that a life as long as that of
+the most aged of the patriarchs would be too short to answer your
+purposes; since the researches and disputes in which you are engaged
+have been already for a much longer time the objects of learned
+inquiries, and remain still as imperfect and undetermined as they were
+at first. But let me ask you again, and deceive neither yourself nor
+me, have you, in the course of these forty years, once examined the
+first principles and the fundamental facts on which all those
+questions depend, with an absolute indifference of judgment, and with
+a scrupulous exactness? with the same care that you have employed in
+examining the various consequences drawn from them, and the heterodox
+opinions about them? Have you not taken them for granted in the whole
+course of your studies? Or, if you have looked now and then on the
+state of the proofs brought to maintain them, have you not done it as
+a mathematician looks over a demonstration formerly made--to refresh
+his memory, not to satisfy any doubt? If you have thus examined, it
+may appear marvelous to some that you have spent so much time in many
+parts of those studies which have reduced you to this hectic condition
+of so much heat and weakness. But if you have not thus examined, it
+must be evident to all, nay, to yourself on the least cool reflection,
+that you are still, notwithstanding all your learning, in a state of
+ignorance. For knowledge can alone produce knowledge; and without such
+an examination of axioms and facts, you can have none about
+inferences."
+
+In this manner one might expostulate very reasonably with many a great
+scholar, many a profound philosopher, many a dogmatical casuist. And
+it serves to set the complaints about want of time, and the shortness
+of human life, in a very ridiculous but a true light.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+RULES FOR THE STUDY OF HISTORY[7]
+
+
+I have considered formerly, with a good deal of attention, the subject
+on which you command me to communicate my thoughts to you; and I
+practised in those days, as much as business and pleasure allowed me
+time to do, the rules that seemed to me necessary to be observed in
+the study of history. They were very different from those which
+writers on the same subject have recommended, and which are commonly
+practised. But I confess to your lordship that this neither gave me
+then, nor has given me since, any distrust of them. I do not affect
+singularity. On the contrary, I think that a due deference is to be
+paid to received opinions, and that a due compliance with received
+customs is to be held; tho both the one and the other should be, what
+they often are, absurd or ridiculous. But this servitude is outward
+only, and abridges in no sort the liberty of private judgment. The
+obligations of submitting to it likewise, even outwardly, extend no
+further than to those opinions and customs which can not be opposed;
+or from which we can not deviate without doing hurt, or giving
+offense, to society. In all these cases, our speculations ought to be
+free; in all other cases, our practise may be so. Without any regard,
+therefore, to the opinion and practise even of the learned world, I am
+very willing to tell you mine. But as it is hard to recover a thread
+of thought long ago laid aside, and impossible to prove some things
+and explain others, without the assistance of many books which I have
+not here, your lordship must be content with such an imperfect sketch
+as I am able to send you in this letter.
+
+The motives that carry men to the study of history are different. Some
+intend, if such as they may be said to study, nothing more than
+amusement, and read the life of Aristides or Phocion, of Epaminondas
+or Scipio, Alexander or Caesar, just as they play a game at cards, or
+as they would read the story of the seven champions.
+
+Others there are whose motive to this study is nothing better, and who
+have the further disadvantage of becoming a nuisance very often to
+society, in proportion to the progress they make. The former do not
+improve their reading to any good purpose; the latter pervert it to a
+very bad one, and grow in impertinence as they increase in learning. I
+think I have known most of the first kind in England, and most of the
+last in France. The persons I mean are those who read to talk, to
+shine in conversation, and to impose in company; who, having few ideas
+to vend of their own growth, store their minds with crude unruminated
+facts and sentences, and hope to supply by bare memory the want of
+imagination and judgment.
+
+But these are in the two lowest forms. The next I shall mention are in
+one a little higher; in the form of those who grow neither wiser nor
+better by study themselves, but who enable others to study with
+greater ease, and to purposes more useful; who make fair copies of
+foul manuscripts, give the signification of hard words, and take a
+great deal of other grammatical pains. The obligation to these men
+would be great indeed, if they were in general able to do anything
+better, and submitted to this drudgery for the sake of the public; as
+some of them, it must be owned with gratitude, have done, but not
+later, I think, than about the time of the resurrection of letters.
+When works of importance are pressing, generals themselves may take
+up the pickax and the spade; but in the ordinary course of things,
+when that pressing necessity is over, such tools are left in the hands
+destined to use them, the hands of common soldiers and peasants. I
+approve, therefore, very much the devotion of a studious man at Christ
+Church, who was overheard in his oratory entering into a detail with
+God, acknowledging the divine goodness in furnishing the world with
+makers of dictionaries! These men court fame, as well as their
+letters, by such means as God has given them to acquire it; and
+Littleton exerted all the genius he had when he made a dictionary, tho
+Stephens did not. They deserve encouragement, however, while they
+continue to compile, and neither affect wit, nor presume to reason.
+
+There is a fourth class, of much less use than these, but of much
+greater name. Men of the first rank in learning, and to whom the whole
+tribe of scholars bow with reverence. A man must be as indifferent as
+I am to common censure or approbation, to avow a thorough contempt for
+the whole business of these learned lives; for all the researches into
+antiquity, for all the systems of chronology and history, that we owe
+to the immense labors of a Scaliger, a Bochart, a Petavius, an Usher,
+and even a Marsham. The same materials are common to them all; but
+these materials are few, and there is a moral impossibility that they
+should ever have more. They have combined these into every form that
+can be given to them; they have supposed, they have guessed, they have
+joined disjointed passages of different authors, and broken traditions
+of uncertain originals, of various people, and of centuries remote
+from one another as well as from ours. In short, that they might leave
+no liberty untaken, even a wild fantastical similitude of sounds has
+served to prop up a system. As the materials they have are few, so are
+the very best and such as pass for authentic extremely precarious, as
+learned persons themselves confess.
+
+Julius Africanus, Eusebius, and George the Monk opened the principal
+sources of all this science; but they corrupted the waters. Their
+point of view was to make profane history and chronology agree with
+sacred. For this purpose, the ancient monuments that these writers
+conveyed to posterity were digested by them according to the system
+they were to maintain; and none of these monuments were delivered down
+in their original form and genuine purity. The dynasties of Manetho,
+for instance, are broken to pieces by Eusebius, and such fragments of
+them as suited his design are stuck into his work. We have, we know,
+no more of them. The "Codex Alexandrinus" we owe to George the Monk.
+We have no other authority for it; and one can not see without
+amazement such a man as Sir John Marsham undervaluing this authority
+in one page, and building his system upon it in the next. He seems
+even by the lightness of his expressions, if I remember well, for it
+is long since I looked into his canon, not to be much concerned what
+foundation his system had, so he showed his skill in forming one, and
+in reducing the immense antiquity of the Egyptians within the limits
+of the Hebraic calculation.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 6: A name under which Aristotle was sometimes known, from
+his birthplace Stag.]
+
+[Footnote 7: One of the "Letters on the Study of History."]
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER POPE
+
+     Born to London in 1688, died in 1744; his father a linen
+     draper, converted to the Catholic faith; not regularly
+     educated, owing to his frail and sickly body; began to write
+     in boyhood, and before he was seventeen had met the leading
+     literary men of London; his "Essay on Criticism," published
+     in 1711, translation of Homer in 1720 and 1725, "Essay on
+     Man," in 1732-34.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+AN ANCIENT ENGLISH COUNTRY SEAT[8]
+
+
+'Tis not possible to express the least part of the joy your return
+gives me; time only and experience will convince you how very sincere
+it is. I excessively long to meet you, to say so much, so very much to
+you, that I believe I shall say nothing. I have given orders to be
+sent for the first minute of your arrival--which I beg you will let
+them know at Mr. Jervas's. I am four-score miles from London, a short
+journey compared to that I so often thought at least of undertaking,
+rather than die without seeing you again. Tho the place I am in is
+such as I would not quit for the town, if I did not value you more
+than any, nay everybody else there; and you will be convinced how
+little the town has engaged my affections in your absence from it,
+when you know what a place this is which I prefer to it; I shall
+therefore describe it to you at large, as the true picture of a
+genuine ancient country-seat.
+
+You must expect nothing regular in my description of a house that
+seems to be built before rules were in fashion: the whole is so
+disjointed, and the parts so detached from each other, and yet so
+joining again, one can not tell how, that--in a poetical fit--you
+would imagine it had been a village in Amphion's time, where twenty
+cottages had taken a dance together, were all out, and stood still in
+amazement ever since. A stranger would be grievously disappointed who
+should ever think to get into this house the right way. One would
+expect, after entering through the porch, to be let into the hall;
+alas! nothing less, you find yourself in a brew-house. From the
+parlor you think to step into the drawing-room; but, upon opening the
+iron-nailed door, you are convinced, by a flight of birds about your
+ears, and a cloud of dust in your eyes, that it is the pigeon-house.
+On each side our porch are two chimneys, that wear their greens on the
+outside, which would do as well within, for whenever we make a fire,
+we let the smoke out of the windows. Over the parlor window hangs a
+sloping balcony, which, time has turned to a very convenient
+penthouse. The top is crowned with a very venerable tower, so like
+that of the church just by, that the jackdaws build in it as if it
+were the true steeple.
+
+The great hall is high and spacious, flanked with long tables, images
+of ancient hospitality; ornamented with monstrous horns, about twenty
+broken pikes, and a matchlock musket or two, which they say were used
+in the civil wars. Here is one vast arched window, beautifully
+darkened with divers scutcheons of painted glass. There seems to be
+great propriety in this old manner of blazoning upon glass, ancient
+families being like ancient windows, in the course of generations
+seldom free from cracks. One shining pane bears date 1286. The
+youthful face of Dame Elinor owes more to this single piece than to
+all the glasses she ever consulted in her life. Who can say after this
+that glass is frail, when it is not half so perishable as human beauty
+or glory? For in another pane you see the memory of a knight
+preserved, whose marble nose is moldered from his monument in the
+church adjoining. And yet, must not one sigh to reflect, that the
+most authentic record of so ancient a family should lie at the mercy
+of every boy that throws a stone? In this hall, in former days, have
+dined gartered knights and courtly dames, with ushers, sewers, and
+seneschals; and yet it was but the other night that an owl flew in
+hither, and mistook it for a barn.
+
+This hall lets you up (and down) over a very high threshold, into the
+parlor. It is furnished with historical tapestry, whose marginal
+fringes do confess the moisture of the air. The other contents of this
+room are a broken-bellied virginal, a couple of crippled velvet
+chairs, with two or three mildewed pictures of moldy ancestors, who
+look as dismally as if they came fresh from hell with all their
+brimstone about 'em. These are carefully set at the further corner:
+for the windows being everywhere broken, make it so convenient a place
+to dry poppies and mustard-seed in, that the room is appropriated to
+that use.
+
+Next this parlor lies, as I said before, the pigeon-house, by the side
+of which runs an entry that leads, on one hand and t'other, into a
+bed-chamber, a buttery, and a small hole called the chaplain's study.
+Then follow a brew-house, a little green and gilt parlor, and the
+great stairs, under which is the dairy. A little further on the right,
+the servants' hall; and by the side of it, up six steps, the old
+lady's closet, which has a lattice into the said hall, that, while she
+said her prayers, she might cast an eye on the men and maids. There
+are upon this ground floor in all twenty-four apartments, hard to be
+distinguished by particular names; among which I must not forget a
+chamber that has in it a large antiquity of timber, which seems to
+have been either a bedstead or a cider-press.
+
+Our best room above is very long and low, of the exact proportion of a
+bandbox; it has hangings of the finest work in the world; those, I
+mean, which Arachne spins out of her own bowels: indeed, the roof is
+so decayed, that after a favorable shower of rain, we may, with God's
+blessing, expect a crop of mushrooms between the chinks of the floors.
+
+All this upper story has for many years had no other inhabitants than
+certain rats, whose very age renders them worthy of this venerable
+mansion, for the very rats of this ancient seat are gray. Since these
+have not quitted it, we hope at least this house may stand during the
+small remainder of days these poor animals have to live, who are now
+too infirm to remove to another: they have still a small subsistence
+left them in the few remaining books of the library.
+
+I had never seen half what I have described, but for an old starched
+gray-headed steward, who is as much an antiquity as any in the place,
+and looks like an old family picture walked out of its frame. He
+failed not, as we passed from room to room, to relate several memoirs
+of the family; but his observations were particularly curious in the
+cellar: he shewed where stood the triple rows of butts of sack, and
+where were ranged the bottles of tent for toasts in the morning; he
+pointed to the stands that supported the iron-hooped hogsheads of
+strong beer; then stepping to a corner, he lugged out the tattered
+fragment of an unframed picture: "This," says he, with tears in his
+eyes, "was poor Sir Thomas, once master of all the drink I told you
+of: he had two sons (poor young masters!) that never arrived to the
+age of his beer; they both fell ill in this very cellar, and never
+went out upon their own legs." He could not pass by a broken bottle
+without taking it up to show us the arms of the family on it. He then
+led me up the tower, by dark winding stone steps, which landed us into
+several little rooms, one above the other; one of these was nailed up,
+and my guide whispered to me the occasion of it. It seems the course
+of this noble blood was a little interrupted about two centuries ago
+by a freak of the Lady Frances, who was here taken with a neighboring
+prior; ever since which the room has been nailed up, and branded with
+the name of the adultery-chamber. The ghost of Lady Frances is
+supposed to walk here: some prying maids of the family formerly
+reported that they saw a lady in a farthingale through the keyhole;
+but this matter was hushed up, and the servants forbid to talk of it.
+
+I must needs have tired you with this long letter; but what engaged me
+in the description was a generous principle to preserve the memory of
+a thing that must itself soon fall to ruin; nay, perhaps, some part of
+it before this reaches your hands: indeed, I owe this old house the
+same sort of gratitude that we do to an old friend that harbors us in
+his declining condition, nay, even in his last extremities. I have
+found this an excellent place for retirement and study, where no one
+who passes by can dream there is an inhabitant, and even anybody that
+would visit me dares not venture under my roof. You will not wonder I
+have translated a great deal of Homer in this retreat; any one that
+sees it will own I could not have chosen a fitter or more likely place
+to converse with the dead. As soon as I return to the living, it shall
+be to converse with the best of them. I hope, therefore, very speedily
+to tell you in person how sincerely and unalterably I am, madam, your
+most faithful, obliged, and obedient servant.
+
+I beg Mr. Wortley to believe me his most humble servant.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+HIS COMPLIMENTS TO LADY MARY[9]
+
+
+I have been (what I never was till now) in debt to you for a letter
+some weeks. I was informed you were at sea, and that 'twas to no
+purpose to write till some news had been heard of you somewhere or
+other. Besides, I have had a second dangerous illness, from which I
+was more diligent to be recovered than from the first, having now some
+hopes of seeing you again. If you make any tour in Italy, I shall not
+easily forgive you for not acquainting me soon enough to have met you
+there. I am very certain I shall never be polite unless I travel with
+you, and it is never to be repaired, the loss that Homer has sustained
+for want of my translating him in Asia.
+
+You will come here full of criticisms against a man who wanted nothing
+to be in the right, but to have kept you company; you have no way of
+making me amends but by continuing an Asiatic when you return to me,
+whatever English airs you may put on to other people. I prodigiously
+long for your sounds, your remarks, your Oriental learning; but I long
+for nothing so much as your Oriental self. You must of necessity be
+advanced so far back in true nature and simplicity of manners, by
+these three years' residence in the East, that I shall look upon you
+as so many years younger than you was, so much nearer innocence (that
+is truth) and infancy (that is openness). I expect to see your soul as
+much thinner drest than your body, and that you have left off as weary
+and cumbersome a great many damned European habits. Without offense to
+your modesty be it spoken, I have a burning desire to see your soul
+stark naked, for I am confident it is the prettiest kind of white soul
+in the universe. But I forget whom I am talking to; you may possibly
+by this time believe according to the Prophet, that you have none; if
+so, show me that which comes next to a soul, you may easily put it
+upon a poor ignorant Christian for a soul and please him as well with
+it--I mean your heart--Mohammed I think allows you hearts; which
+(together with fine eyes and other agreeable equivalents) are with all
+the souls on the other side of the world.
+
+But if I must be content with seeing your body only, God send it come
+quickly. I honor it more than the diamond casket that held Homer's
+Iliads; for in the very twinkle of one eye of it there is more wit,
+and in the very dimple of one cheek of it there is more meaning, than
+all the souls that were carefully put into woman since God had the
+making of them.
+
+I have a mind to fill the rest of this paper with an accident that has
+happened just under my eyes, and has made a great impression on me. I
+have just passed part of the summer at an old romantic seat of my Lord
+Harcourt's which he lent me. It overlooks a commonfield, where, under
+the shade of the haycock, sat two lovers as constant as ever were
+found in romance, beneath a spreading beech. The name of the one (let
+it sound as it will) was John Hewet; of the other, Sarah Drew. John
+was a well-set man of about five and twenty, Sarah a brown woman of
+eighteen. John had for several months borne the labor of the day in
+the same field with Sarah; when she milked it was his morning and
+evening charge to bring the cows to her pail.
+
+Their love was the talk, but not the scandal, of the whole
+neighborhood; for all they aimed at was the blameless possession of
+each other in marriage. It was but this very morning that he had
+obtained her parent's consent, and it was but till the next week that
+they were to wait to be happy. Perhaps this very day, in the interval
+of their work, they were talking about their wedding clothes, and
+John was now matching several kinds of poppies and field flowers to
+her complexion to make her a present of knots for the day.
+
+While they are thus employed (it was in the last of July) a terrible
+storm of thunder and lightning arose, that drove the laborers to what
+shelter the trees or hedge afforded. Sarah, frightened and out of
+breath, sunk on a haycock, and John (who was never separated from her)
+sate by her side, having raked two or three heaps together to secure
+her. Immediately there was heard so loud a crash as if heaven were
+burst asunder. The laborers, all solicitous for each other's safety,
+called to one another. Those that were nearest our lovers, hearing no
+answer, stept to the place where they lay; they first saw a little
+smoke and after this the faithful pair--John with one arm about his
+Sarah's neck, and the other held over her face as if to screen her
+from the lightning. They were struck dead and already grown stiff and
+cold in this tender posture. There was no mark or discoloring on their
+bodies, only that Sarah's eyebrow was a little singed and a small spot
+between her breasts. They were buried the next day in one grave, in
+the parish of Stanton Harcourt, in Oxfordshire; where my lord
+Harcourt, at my request, has erected a monument over them....
+
+Upon the whole, I can't think these people unhappy. The greatest
+happiness, next to living as they would have done, was to die as they
+did. The greatest honor people of their low degree could have was to
+be remembered on a little monument; unless you will give them
+another--that of being honored with a tear from the finest eyes in
+the world. I know you have tenderness; you must have it; it is the
+very emanation of good sense and virtue; the finest minds like the
+finest metals dissolve the easiest.
+
+But when you are reflecting upon objects of pity, pray do not forget
+one, who had no sooner found out an object of the highest esteem than
+he was separated from it; and who is so very unhappy as not to be
+susceptible of consolation from others, by being so miserable in the
+right as to think other women what they really are. Such a one can't
+but be desperately fond of any creature that is quite different from
+these. If the Circassian be utterly void of such honor as these have,
+and such virtue as these boast of, I am content. I have detested the
+sound of honest woman, and loving spouse, ever since I heard the
+pretty name of Odaliche.
+
+Dear Madam, I am forever yours,
+
+My most humble services to Mr. Wortley.[10] Pray let me hear from you
+soon, tho I shall very soon write again. I am confident half our
+letters are lost.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+HOW TO MAKE AN EPIC POEM[11]
+
+
+It is no small pleasure to me, who am zealous in the interests of
+learning, to think I may have the honor of leading the town into a
+very new and uncommon road of criticism. As that kind of literature is
+at present carried on, it consists only in a knowledge of mechanic
+rules which contribute to the structure of different sorts of poetry,
+as the receipts of good housewives do to the making puddings of flour,
+oranges, plums, or any other ingredients. It would, methinks, make
+these my instructions more easily intelligible to ordinary readers, if
+I discoursed of these matters in the style in which ladies learned in
+economics dictate to their pupils for the improvement of the kitchen
+and larder.
+
+I shall begin with epic poetry, because the critics agree it is the
+greatest work human nature is capable of. I know the French have
+already laid down many mechanical rules for compositions of this sort,
+but at the same time they cut off almost all undertakers from the
+possibility of ever performing them; for the first qualification they
+unanimously require in a poet is a genius. I shall here endeavor (for
+the benefit of my countrymen) to make it manifest that epic poems may
+be made "without a genius," nay, without learning, or much reading.
+This must necessarily be of great use to all those poets who confess
+they never read, and of whom the world is convinced they never learn.
+What Moliere observes of making a dinner, that any man can do it with
+money, and if a profest cook can not without, he has his art for
+nothing, the same may be said of making a poem--it is easily brought
+about by him that has a genius, but the skill lies in doing it without
+one. In pursuance of this end, I shall present the reader with a plain
+and certain receipt, by which even sonneteers and ladies may be
+qualified for this grand performance.
+
+I know it will be objected that one of the chief qualifications of an
+epic poet is to be knowing in all arts and sciences. But this ought
+not to discourage those that have no learning, as long as indexes and
+dictionaries may be had, which are the compendium of all knowledge.
+Besides, since it is an established rule that none of the terms of
+those arts and sciences are to be made use of, one may venture to
+affirm our poet can not impertinently offend in this point. The
+learning which will be more particularly necessary to him is the
+ancient geography of towns, mountains, and rivers; for this let him
+take Culverius, value fourpence.
+
+Another quality required is a complete skill in languages. To this I
+answer that it is notorious persons of no genius have been oftentimes
+great linguists. To instance in the Greek, of which there are two
+sorts; the original Greek, and that from which our modern authors
+translate. I should be unwilling to promise impossibilities; but
+modestly speaking, this may be learned in about an hour's time with
+ease. I have known one who became a sudden professor of Greek
+immediately upon application of the left-hand page of the Cambridge
+Homer to his eye. It is in these days with authors as with other men,
+the well bred are familiarly acquainted with, them at first sight; and
+as it is sufficient for a good general to have surveyed the ground he
+is to conquer, so it is enough for a good poet to have seen the author
+he is to be master of. But to proceed to the purpose of this paper.
+
+For the Fable.--Take out of any old poem, history book, romance or
+legend (for instance, Geoffrey of Monmouth, or Don Belianis of
+Greece[12]), those parts of story which afford most scope for long
+descriptions. Put these pieces together, and throw all the adventures
+you fancy into one tale. Then take a hero you may choose for the sound
+of his name, and put him into the midst of these adventures. There let
+him work for twelve books; at the end of which you may take him out
+ready prepared to conquer, or to marry; it being necessary that the
+conclusion of an epic poem be fortunate.
+
+To Make an Episode.--Take any remaining adventure of your former
+collection, in which you could no way involve your hero; or any
+unfortunate accident that was too good to be thrown away; and it will
+be of use applied to any other person, who may be lost and evaporate
+in the course of the work, without the least damage to the
+composition.
+
+For the Moral and Allegory.--These you may extract out of the fable
+afterward, at your leisure. Be sure you strain them sufficiently.
+
+For the Manners.--For those of the hero, take all the best qualities
+you can find in all the celebrated heroes of antiquity; if they will
+not be reduced to a consistency, lay them all in a heap upon him. But
+be sure they are qualities which your patron would be thought to have;
+and, to prevent any mistake which the world may be subject to, select
+from the alphabet those capital letters that compose his name, and set
+them at the head of a dedication before your poem. However, do not
+absolutely observe the exact quantity of these virtues, it not being
+determined whether or no it be necessary for the hero of a poem to be
+an honest man. For the under characters, gather them from Homer and
+Virgil, and change the names as occasion serves.
+
+For the Machines.--Take of deities, male and female, as many as you
+can use. Separate them into two equal parts, and keep Jupiter in the
+middle. Let Juno put him in a ferment, and Venus mollify him. Remember
+on all occasions to make use of volatile Mercury. If you have need of
+devils, draw them out of Milton's Paradise, and extract your spirits
+from Tasso. The use of these machines is evident; for since no epic
+poem can possibly subsist without them, the wisest way is to reserve
+them for your greatest necessities. When you can not extricate your
+hero by any human means, or yourself by your own wits, seek relief
+from heaven, and the gods will do your business very readily. This is
+according to the direct prescription of Horace in his "Art of
+Poetry," verse 191:
+
+    Never presume to make a god appear,
+    But for a business worthy of a god.[13]
+
+That is to say, a poet should never call upon the gods for their
+assistance but when he is in great perplexity.
+
+For a Tempest.--Take Eurus, Zephyr, Auster, and Boreas, and cast them
+together in one verse. Add to these of rain, lightning, and of thunder
+(the loudest you can) _quantum sufficit_. Mix your clouds and billows
+well together until they foam, and thicken your description here and
+there with a quicksand. Brew your tempest well in your head, before
+you set it a-blowing.
+
+For a Battle.--Pick a large quantity of images and descriptions from
+Homer's "Iliad," with a spice or two of Virgil, and if there remain
+any overplus you may lay them by for a skirmish. Season it well with
+similes, and it will make an excellent battle.
+
+For Burning a Town.--If such a description be necessary, because it is
+certain there is one in Virgil, Old Troy is ready burned to your
+hands. But if you fear that would be thought borrowed, a chapter or
+two of the Theory of the Conflagration, well circumstanced, and done
+into verse, will be a good succedaneum.
+
+As for Similes and Metaphors, they may be found all over the creation;
+the most ignorant may gather them, but the danger is in applying them.
+For this advise with your bookseller.
+
+For the Language (I mean the diction).--Here it will do well to be an
+imitator of Milton, for you will find it easier to imitate him in this
+than anything else. Hebraisms and Grecisms are to be found in him,
+without the trouble of learning the languages. I knew a painter, who
+(like our poet) had no genius, make his daubings to be thought
+originals by setting them in the smoke. You may in the same manner
+give the venerable air of antiquity to your piece by darkening it up
+and down with old English. With this you may be easily furnished upon
+any occasion by the dictionary commonly printed at the end of Chaucer.
+
+I must not conclude without cautioning all writers without genius in
+one material point, which is, never to be afraid of having too much
+fire in their works. I should advise rather to take their warmest
+thoughts, and spread them abroad upon paper; for they are observed to
+cool before they are read.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 8: A letter to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. The mansion here
+described is Stanton Harcourt, near the hamlet of Cokethorpe in
+Oxfordshire. Here the Harcourts had lived since the twelfth century.
+At the date of Pope's letter, it was the seat of Simon Harcourt, first
+viscount, but Simon's father, Sir Philip Harcourt, for many years was
+the last of the family actually to live there, his widow afterward
+permitting the buildings to fall into the state of decay which Pope
+describes. In the tower is an upper chamber over the chapel which
+still bears the name of "Pope's Study." It was there, in 1718, that
+Pope finished the fifth volume of his translation of Homer. Simon, the
+first viscount, had taken up his residence at Stanton Harcourt a short
+time before the date of Pope's letter--that is, about 1715. He
+frequently had as guests Pope, Swift, Gay and Prior, being himself
+fond of literary pursuits. Twelve letters written to him by Pope have
+been preserved among the family papers. Pope, in his letter to Lady
+Mary, of September 1, 1718, which here follows the one beginning on
+the previous page, in referring to the mansion uses the words, "which
+he lent me," indicating that Pope was occupying the mansion at the
+invitation of Lord Harcourt. Swift and Harcourt sometimes quarreled
+over political matters, in which Harcourt was prominent. On one
+occasion Swift called him "Trimming Harcourt."]
+
+[Footnote 9: A letter dated September 1, 1718, and addrest to Lady
+Mary Wortley Montagu, who was then living in Turkey. Pope and she
+afterward (about 1722) quarreled bitterly. Leslie Stephen, discussing
+the matter, says "the extreme bitterness with which Pope ever
+afterward assailed her can be explained most plausibly, and least to
+his discredit, upon the assumption that his extravagant expressions of
+gallantry covered some real passion." If this be a true inference, his
+passion "was probably converted into antipathy by the contempt with
+which she received his declaration."]
+
+[Footnote 10: Her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, the name Montagu
+having been added for reasons connected with a family estate.]
+
+[Footnote 11: From the Guardian.]
+
+[Footnote 12: "Belianis of Greece" was a continuation of the romance
+"Amadis of Gaul," which was published in Spanish in 1547, and
+translated into English in 1598. The author was Jeronimo Fernandez.]
+
+[Footnote 13: The translation is by Roscommon.]
+
+
+
+
+LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU
+
+     Baptized in 1689, died in 1762; eldest daughter of the Duke
+     of Kingston; married Edward Wortley Montagu, grandson of the
+     Earl of Sandwich, in 1712; her husband sent to Turkey as
+     ambassador in 1716; she was a close friend of Pope, but
+     afterward quarreled with him; in 1739 left England, settling
+     in Venice, where she remained until 1762; her "Letters"
+     published in 1763, with further instalments in 1767 and
+     later years.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+ON HAPPINESS IN THE MATRIMONIAL STATE[14]
+
+
+I received both your Monday letters before I wrote the inclosed,
+which, however, I send you. The kind letter was written and sent
+Friday morning, and I did not receive yours till Saturday noon. To
+speak truth, you would never have had it else; there were so many
+things in yours to put me out of humor. Thus, you see, it was on no
+design to repair anything that offended you. You only show me how
+industrious you are to find faults in me: why will you not suffer me
+to be pleased with you?
+
+I would see you if I could (tho perhaps it may be wrong); but in the
+way that I am here, 'tis impossible. I can't come to town but in
+company with my sister-in-law: I can carry her nowhere but where she
+pleases; or if I could, I would trust her with nothing. I could not
+walk out alone without giving suspicion to the whole family; should I
+be watched, and seen to meet a man--judge of the consequences!
+
+You speak of treating with my father, as if you believed he would come
+to terms afterward. I will not suffer you to remain in the thought,
+however advantageous it might be to me; I will deceive you in nothing.
+I am fully persuaded he will never hear of terms afterward. You may
+say, 'tis talking oddly of him. I can't answer to that; but 'tis my
+real opinion, and I think I know him. You talk to me of estates, as if
+I was the most interested woman in the world. Whatever faults I may
+have shown in my life, I know not one action in it that ever proved me
+mercenary. I think there can not be a greater proof to the contrary
+than my treating with you, where I am to depend entirely upon your
+generosity, at the same time that I may have settled on me L500 per
+annum pin-money, and a considerable jointure, in another place; not to
+reckon that I may have by his temper what command of his estate I
+please: and with you I have nothing to pretend to. I do not, however,
+make a merit to you: money is very little to me, because all beyond
+necessaries I do not value that is to be purchased by it. If the man
+proposed to me had L10,000 per annum, and I was sure to dispose of it
+all, I should act just as I do. I have in my life known a good deal of
+show, and never found myself the happier for it.
+
+In proposing to you to follow the scheme proposed by that friend, I
+think 'tis absolutely necessary for both our sakes. I would have you
+want no pleasure which a single life would afford you. You own you
+think nothing so agreeable. A woman that adds nothing to a man's
+fortune ought not to take from his happiness. If possible, I would add
+to it; but I will not take from you any satisfaction you could enjoy
+without me. On my own side, I endeavor to form as right a judgment of
+the temper of human nature, and of my own in particular, as I am
+capable of. I would throw off all partiality and passion, and be calm
+in my opinion. Almost all people are apt to run into a mistake, that
+when they once feel or give a passion, there needs nothing to
+entertain it. This mistake makes, in the number of women that inspire
+even violent passions, hardly one preserve one after possession. If we
+marry, our happiness must consist in loving one another; 'tis
+principally my concern to think of the most probable method of making
+that love eternal. You object against living in London: I am not fond
+of it myself, and readily give it up to you; tho I am assured there
+needs more art to keep a fondness alive in solitude, where it
+generally preys upon itself.
+
+There is one article absolutely necessary: to be ever beloved, one
+must ever be agreeable. There is no such thing as being agreeable
+without a thorough good-humor, a natural sweetness of temper,
+enlivened by cheerfulness. Whatever natural funds of gaiety one is
+born with, 'tis necessary to be entertained with agreeable objects.
+Anybody capable of tasting pleasure when they confine themselves to
+one place, should take care 'tis the place in the world the most
+agreeable. Whatever you may now think (now, perhaps, you have some
+fondness for me), tho your love should continue in its full force
+there are hours when the most beloved mistress would be troublesome.
+People are not forever (nor is it in human nature that they should be)
+disposed to be fond; you would be glad to find in me the friend and
+the companion. To be agreeably the last, it is necessary to be gay and
+entertaining. A perpetual solitude, in a place where you see nothing
+to raise your spirits, at length wears them out, and conversation
+insensibly becomes dull and insipid. When I have no more to say to
+you, you will like me no longer.
+
+How dreadful is that view! You will reflect for my sake you have
+abandoned the conversation of a friend that you liked, and your
+situation in a country where all things would have contributed to make
+your life pass in (the true _volupte_) a smooth tranquillity. I shall
+lose the vivacity which should entertain you, and you will have
+nothing to recompense you for what you have lost. Very few people that
+have settled entirely in the country, but have grown at length weary
+of one another. The lady's conversation generally falls into a
+thousand impertinent effects of idleness; and the gentleman falls in
+love with his dogs and his horses, and out of love with everything
+else. I am not now arguing in favor of the town: you have answered me
+as to that point.
+
+In respect of your health, 'tis the first thing to be considered, and
+I shall never ask you to do anything injurious to that. But 'tis my
+opinion, 'tis necessary, to be happy, that we neither of us think any
+place more agreeable than that where we are. I have nothing to do in
+London; and 'tis indifferent to me if I never see it more. I know not
+how to answer your mentioning gallantry, nor in what sense to
+understand you: whomever I marry, when I am married I renounce all
+things of the kind. I am willing to abandon all conversation but
+yours; I will part with anything for you, but you. I will not have you
+a month, to lose you for the rest of my life. If you can pursue the
+plan of happiness begun with your friend, and take me for that friend,
+I am ever yours. I have examined my own heart whether I can leave
+everything for you; I think I can: if I change my mind, you shall know
+before Sunday; after that I will not change my mind.
+
+If 'tis necessary for your affairs to stay in England, to assist your
+father in his business, as I suppose the time will be short, I would
+be as little injurious to your fortune as I can, and I will do it. But
+I am still of opinion nothing is so likely to make us both happy as
+what I propose. I foresee I may break with you on this point, and I
+shall certainly be displeased with myself for it, and wish a thousand
+times that I had done whatever you pleased; but, however, I hope I
+shall always remember how much more miserable than anything else
+would make me, should I be to live with you and to please you no
+longer. You can be pleased with nothing when you are not pleased with
+your wife. One of the "Spectators" is very just that says, "A man
+ought always to be upon his guard against spleen and a too severe
+philosophy; a woman, against levity and coquetry." If we go to Naples,
+I will make no acquaintance there of any kind, and you will be in a
+place where a variety of agreeable objects will dispose you to be ever
+pleased. If such a thing is possible, this will secure our everlasting
+happiness; and I am ready to wait on you without leaving a thought
+behind me.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+INOCULATION FOR THE SMALLPOX[15]
+
+
+Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make
+you wish yourself here. The smallpox, so fatal and so general amongst
+us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of ingrafting, which
+is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it
+their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of
+September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another
+to know if any of their family has a mind to have the smallpox; they
+make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen
+or sixteen together), the old woman comes with a nutshell full of the
+matter of the best sort of smallpox, and asks what vein you please to
+have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer with a large
+needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch), and puts
+into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle,
+and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell;
+and in this manner opens four or five veins.
+
+The Grecians have commonly the superstition of opening one in the
+middle of the forehead, one in each arm, and one in the breast, to
+mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these
+wounds leaving little scars, and is not done by those that are not
+superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of
+the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play
+together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the
+eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds
+two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or
+thirty [spots] in their faces, which never mark; and in eight days'
+time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded,
+there remain running sores during the distemper, which I don't doubt
+is a great relief to it. Every year thousands undergo this operation;
+and the French ambassador says, pleasantly, that they take the
+smallpox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other
+countries. There is no example of any one that has died in it; and
+you may believe that I am well satisfied of the safety of this
+experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son.
+
+I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into
+fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to some of our
+doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I
+thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of
+their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too
+beneficial to them, not to expose to all their resentment the hardy
+wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps if I live to
+return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. Upon this
+occasion, admire the heroism in the heart of your friend, etc., etc.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 14: Letter to Edward Wortley Montagu, written before she
+married him. Lady Mary was married to Montagu on August 12, 1712. At
+his first proposal to her, he had been rejected. Lady Mary's father
+insisted that she should marry another man; the settlements for this
+marriage had been drawn and the wedding day fixt, when Lady Mary left
+her father's house and married Montagu privately. Montagu was a man of
+some eminence in public life, but noted for miserly habits. He
+accumulated one of the largest private estates of his time.]
+
+[Footnote 15: Letter to Sarah Criswell, dated Adrianople, Turkey,
+April 1, O. S., 1717. To Lady Mary is usually accorded chief credit
+for the introduction of inoculation into western Europe.]
+
+
+
+
+LORD CHESTERFIELD
+
+     Born in 1694, died in 1773; educated at Cambridge; became a
+     member of Parliament; filled several places in the
+     diplomatic service; became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in
+     1734; his "Letters to His Son," published in 1774 after his
+     death.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF GOOD MANNERS, DRESS AND THE WORLD[16]
+
+
+There is a _bienseance_ with regard to people of the lowest degree; a
+gentleman observes it with his footman, even with the beggar in the
+street. He considers them as objects of compassion, not of insult; he
+speaks to neither _d'un ton brusque_, but corrects the one coolly, and
+refuses the other with humanity. There is no one occasion in the
+world, in which _le ton brusque_ is becoming a gentleman. In short,
+_les bienseances_ are another word for manners, and extend to every
+part of life. They are propriety; the Graces should attend in order to
+complete them: the Graces enable us to do genteelly and pleasingly
+what _les bienseances_ require to be done at all. The latter are an
+obligation upon every man; the former are an infinite advantage and
+ornament to any man.
+
+People unused to the world have babbling countenances, and are
+unskilful enough to show what they have sense enough not to tell. In
+the course of the world, a man must very often put on an easy, frank
+countenance, upon very disagreeable occasions; he must seem pleased,
+when he is very much otherwise; he must be able to accost and receive
+with smiles those whom he would much rather meet with swords. In
+courts he must not turn himself inside out. All this may, nay, must be
+done, without falsehood and treachery: for it must go no further than
+politeness and manners, and must stop short of assurances and
+professions of simulated friendship. Good manners to those one does
+not love are no more a breach of truth than "your humble servant," at
+the bottom of a challenge, is; they are universally agreed upon and
+understood to be things of course. They are necessary guards of the
+decency and peace of society: they must only act defensively; and then
+not with arms poisoned with perfidy. Truth, but not the whole truth,
+must be the invariable principle of every man who hath either
+religion, honor, or prudence.
+
+I can not help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character
+from his dress; and I believe most people do as well as myself. Any
+affectation whatsoever in dress implies in my mind a flaw in the
+understanding.... 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
+drest, the excess on that side will wear off with a little age and
+reflection; but if he is negligent at twenty, he will be a sloven at
+forty and stink at fifty years old. Dress yourself fine where others
+are fine, and plain where others are plain; but take care always that
+your clothes are well made and fit you, for otherwise they will give
+you a very awkward air. When you are once well drest for the day,
+think no more of it afterward; and without any stiffness or fear of
+discomposing that dress, let all your motions be as easy and natural
+as if you had no clothes on at all.
+
+A friend of yours and mine has 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 can not 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, 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. And indeed there seems to me to be less difference, both
+between the crimes and punishments, than at first one would
+imagine.... Mutual complaisances, attentions, and sacrifices of little
+conveniences are as natural an implied compact between civilized
+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."
+
+Men who converse only with women are frivolous, effeminate puppies,
+and those who never converse with them are bears.
+
+The desire of being pleased is universal. The desire of pleasing
+should be so too. Misers are not so much blamed for being misers as
+envied for being rich.
+
+Dissimulation, to a certain degree, is as necessary in business as
+clothes are in the common intercourse of life; and a man would be as
+imprudent who should exhibit his inside naked, as he would be indecent
+if he produced his outside so.
+
+A woman will be implicitly governed by the man whom she is in love
+with, but will not be directed by the man whom she esteems the most.
+The former is the result of passion, which is her character; the
+latter must be the effect of reasoning, which is by no means of the
+feminine gender.
+
+The best moral virtues are those of which the vulgar are, perhaps, the
+best judges.
+
+Let us, then, not only scatter benefits, but even strew flowers, for
+our fellow travelers in the rugged ways of this wretched world.
+
+Your duty to man is very short and clear; it is only to do to him
+whatever you would be willing that he should do to you. And remember
+in all the business of your life to ask your conscience this question,
+Should I be willing that this should be done to me? If your
+conscience, which will always tell you truth, answers no, do not do
+that thing. Observe these rules, and you will be happy in this world
+and still happier in the next.
+
+Carefully avoid all affectation either of mind or body. It is a very
+true and a very trite observation that no man is ridiculous for being
+what he really is, but for affecting to be what he is not. No man is
+awkward by nature, but by affecting to be genteel, and I have known
+many a man of common sense pass generally for a fool because he
+affected a degree of wit that God had denied him. A plowman is by no
+means awkward in the exercise of his trade, but would be exceedingly
+ridiculous if he attempted the airs and grace of a man of fashion.
+
+What is commonly called in the world a man or a woman of spirit are
+the two most detestable and most dangerous animals that inhabit it.
+They are strong-headed, captious, jealous, offended without reason,
+and offending with as little. The man of spirit has immediate
+recourse to his sword, and the woman of spirit to her tongue, and it
+is hard to say which of the two is the most mischievous weapon.
+
+Speak to the King with full as little concern (tho with more respect)
+as you would to your equals. This is the distinguishing characteristic
+of a gentleman and a man of the world.
+
+That silly article of dress is no trifle. Never be the first nor the
+last in the fashion. Wear as fine clothes as those of your rank
+commonly do, and rather better than worse, and when you are well drest
+once a day do not seem to know that you have any clothes on at all,
+but let your carriage and motion be as easy as they would be in your
+nightgowns.
+
+Let your address when you first come into any company be modest, but
+without the least bashfulness or sheepishness, steady without
+impudence, and as unembarrassed as if you were in your own room. This
+is a difficult point to hit, and therefore deserves great attention;
+nothing but a long usage of the world and in the best company can
+possibly give it.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF ATTENTIONS TO LADIES[17]
+
+
+Women, in a great degree, establish or destroy every man's reputation
+of good breeding; you must, therefore, in a manner, overwhelm them
+with the attentions of which I have spoken; they are used to them,
+they expect them; and, to do them justice, they commonly requite
+them. You must be sedulous, and rather over officious than under, in
+procuring them their coaches, their chairs, their conveniences in
+public places; not see what you should not see; and rather assist,
+where you can not help seeing. Opportunities of showing these
+attentions present themselves perpetually; but if they do not, make
+them. As Ovid advises his lover, when he sits in the circus near his
+mistress, to wipe the dust off her neck, even if there be none. _Si
+nullus tamen excute nullum._ Your conversation with women should
+always be respectful; but at the same time, _enjoue_, and always
+addrest to their vanity. Everything you say or do should convince them
+of the regard you have (whether you have it or not) for their beauty,
+their wit, or their merit. Men have possibly as much vanity as women,
+tho of another kind; and both art and good breeding require that,
+instead of mortifying, you should please and flatter it, by words and
+looks of approbation.
+
+Suppose (which is by no means improbable) that at your return to
+England, I should place you near the person of some one of the royal
+family; in that situation good breeding, engaging address, adorned
+with all the graces that dwell at courts, would very probably make you
+a favorite, and, from a favorite, a minister; but all the knowledge
+and learning in the world, without them, never would. The penetration
+of princes seldom goes deeper than the surface. It is the exterior
+that always engages their hearts; and I would never advise you to give
+yourself much trouble about their understandings. Princes in general
+(I mean those Porphyrogenets who are born and bred in purple) are
+about the pitch of women; bred up like them, and are to be addrest and
+gained in the same manner. They always see, they seldom weigh. Your
+luster, not your solidity, must take them; your inside will afterward
+support and secure what your outside has acquired.
+
+With weak people (and they undoubtedly are three parts in four of
+mankind) good breeding, address, and manners are everything; they can
+go no deeper: but let me assure you, that they are a great deal, even
+with people of the best understandings. Where the eyes are not
+pleased, and the heart is not flattered, the mind will be apt to stand
+out. Be this right or wrong, I confess, I am so made myself.
+Awkwardness and ill breeding shock me, to that degree, that where I
+meet with them, I can not find in my heart to inquire into the
+intrinsic merit of that person; I hastily decide in myself, that he
+can have none; and am not sure, I should not even be sorry to know
+that he had any. I often paint you in my imagination, in your present
+_lontananza_; and, while I view you in the light of ancient and modern
+learning, useful and ornamental knowledge, I am charmed with the
+prospect; but when I view you in another light, and represent you
+awkward, ungraceful, ill bred, with vulgar air and manners, shambling
+toward me with inattention and distractions, I shall not pretend to
+describe to you what I feel, but will do as a skilful painter did
+formerly, draw a veil before the countenance of the father.
+
+I dare say you know already enough of architecture to know that the
+Tuscan is the strongest and most solid of all the orders; but, at the
+same time, it is the coarsest and clumsiest of them. Its solidity does
+extremely well for the foundation and base floor of a great edifice;
+but, if the whole building be Tuscan, it will attract no eyes, it will
+stop no passengers, it will invite no interior examination; people
+will take it for granted that the finishing and furnishing can not be
+worth seeing, where the front is so unadorned and clumsy. But, if upon
+the solid Tuscan foundation, the Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian
+orders rise gradually with all their beauty, proportions, and
+ornaments, the fabric seizes the most incurious eye, and stops the
+most careless passenger, who solicits admission as a favor, nay, often
+purchases it. Just so will it fare with your little fabric, which at
+present I fear has more of the Tuscan than of the Corinthian order.
+You must absolutely change the whole front or nobody will knock at the
+door. The several parts which must compose this new front are elegant,
+easy, natural, superior good breeding; and an engaging address;
+genteel motions; an insinuating softness in your looks, words, and
+actions; a spruce, lively air, and fashionable dress; and all the
+glitter that a young fellow should have.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 16: From the "Letters to His Son," _passim_. Chesterfield,
+the man of affairs--and he had real distinction in the public life of
+his time--is quite forgotten, but his letters, which he wrote for
+private purposes and never dreamed would be published, have made him
+one of the English literary immortals.]
+
+[Footnote 17: From the "Letters to His Son."]
+
+
+
+
+HENRY FIELDING
+
+     Born in 1707, died in 1754; son of Gen. Edmund Fielding;
+     admitted to the bar in 1740; made a justice of the peace in
+     1748; chairman of Quarter Sessions in 1749; published
+     "Joseph Andrews" in 1742, "Tom Jones" in 1749, and "Amelia"
+     in 1751; among other works wrote many plays and "A Journal
+     of a Voyage to Lisbon," which was published in 1755, after
+     his death which occurred in Lisbon.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+TOM THE HERO ENTERS THE STAGE[18]
+
+
+As we determined when we first sat down to write this history to
+flatter no man, but to guide our pen throughout by the directions of
+truth, we are obliged to bring our hero on the stage in a much more
+disadvantageous manner than we could wish; and to declare honestly,
+even at his first appearance, that it was the universal opinion of all
+Mr. Allworthy's family that he was certainly born to be hanged.
+
+Indeed, I am sorry to say there was too much reason for this
+conjecture, the lad having from his earliest years discovered a
+propensity to many vices, and especially to one, which hath as a
+direct tendency as any other to that fate which we have just now
+observed to have been prophetically denounced against him. He had been
+already convicted of three robberies; viz., of robbing an orchard, of
+stealing a duck out of a farmer's yard, and of picking Master
+Blifil's pocket of a ball.
+
+The vices of this young man were, moreover, heightened by the
+disadvantageous light in which they appeared, when opposed to the
+virtues of Master Blifil, his companion--a youth of so different a
+caste from little Jones, that not only the family but all the
+neighborhood resounded his praises. He was indeed a lad of a
+remarkable disposition; sober, discreet, and pious beyond his
+age,--qualities which gained him the love of every one who knew him;
+whilst Tom Jones was universally disliked, and many exprest their
+wonder that Mr. Allworthy would suffer such a lad to be educated with
+his nephew, lest the morals of the latter should be corrupted by his
+example.
+
+An incident which happened about this time will set the character of
+these two lads more fairly before the discerning reader than is in the
+power of the longest dissertation.
+
+Tom Jones, who bad as he is must serve for the hero of this history,
+had only one friend among all the servants of the family; for as to
+Mrs. Wilkins, she had long since given him up, and was perfectly
+reconciled to her mistress. This friend was the gamekeeper, a fellow
+of a loose kind of disposition, and who was thought not to entertain
+much stricter notions concerning the difference of _meum_ and _tuum_
+than the young gentleman himself. And hence this friendship gave
+occasion to many sarcastical remarks among the domestics, most of
+which were either proverbs before, or at least are become so now; and
+indeed, the wit of them all may be comprised in that short Latin
+proverb, "_Noscitur a socio_," which I think is thus exprest in
+English: "You may know him by the company he keeps."
+
+To say the truth, some of that atrocious wickedness in Jones, of which
+we have just mentioned three examples, might perhaps be derived from
+the encouragement he had received from this fellow, who in two or
+three instances had been what the law calls an accessory after the
+fact. For the whole duck and a great part of the apples were converted
+to the use of the gamekeeper and his family. Tho as Jones alone was
+discovered, the poor lad bore not only the whole smart but the whole
+blame; both which fell again to his lot on the following occasion.
+
+Contiguous to Mr. Allworthy's estate was the manor of one of those
+gentlemen who are called preservers of the game. This species of men,
+from the great severity with which they revenge the death of a hare or
+a partridge, might be thought to cultivate the same superstition with
+the Bannians in India, many of whom, we are told, dedicate their whole
+lives to the preservation and protection of certain animals; was it
+not that our English Bannians, while they preserve them from other
+enemies, will most unmercifully slaughter whole horse-loads
+themselves, so that they stand clearly acquitted of any such
+heathenish superstition.
+
+I have indeed a much better opinion of this kind of men than is
+entertained by some, as I take them to answer the order of nature, and
+the good purposes for which they were ordained, in a more ample manner
+than many others. Now, as Horace tells us, that there are a set of
+human beings, _fruges consumere nati_, "born to consume the fruits of
+the earth," so I make no manner of doubt but that there are others,
+_feras consumere nati_, "born to consume the beasts of the field," or
+as it is commonly called, the game; and none, I believe, will deny but
+that those squires fulfil this end of their creation.
+
+Little Jones went one day a-shooting with the gamekeeper; when
+happening to spring a covey of partridges, near the border of that
+manor over which fortune, to fulfil the wise purposes of nature, had
+planted one of the game-consumers, the birds flew into it and were
+marked (as it is called) by the two sportsmen in some furze bushes,
+about two or three hundred paces beyond Mr. Allworthy's dominions.
+
+Mr. Allworthy had given the fellow strict orders, on pain of
+forfeiting his place, never to trespass on any of his neighbors; no
+more on those who were less rigid in this matter than on the lord of
+the manor. With regard to others, indeed, these orders had not been
+always very scrupulously kept; but as the disposition of the gentleman
+with whom the partridges had taken sanctuary was well known, the
+gamekeeper had never yet attempted to invade his territories. Nor had
+he done it now, had not the younger sportsman, who was excessively
+eager to pursue the flying game, over-persuaded him; but Jones being
+very importunate, the other, who was himself keen enough after the
+sport, yielded to his persuasions, entered the manor, and shot one of
+the partridges.
+
+The gentleman himself was at that time on horseback, at a little
+distance from them; and hearing the gun go off, he immediately made
+toward the place, and discovered poor Tom; for the gamekeeper had
+leapt into the thickest part of the furze-brake, where he had happily
+concealed himself.
+
+The gentleman having searched the lad and found the partridge upon
+him, denounced great vengeance, swearing he would acquaint Mr.
+Allworthy. He was as good as his word, for he rode immediately to his
+house and complained of the trespass on his manor, in as high terms
+and as bitter language as if his house had been broken open and the
+most valuable furniture stolen out of it. He added that some other
+person was in his company, tho he could not discover him; for that two
+guns had been discharged, almost in the same instant. And, says he,
+"We have found only this partridge, but the Lord knows what mischief
+they have done."
+
+At his return home, Tom was presently convened before Mr. Allworthy.
+He owned the fact, and alleged no other excuse but what was really
+true; viz., that the covey was originally sprung in Mr. Allworthy's
+own manor.
+
+Tom was then interrogated who was with him, which Mr. Allworthy
+declared he was resolved to know, acquainting the culprit with the
+circumstance of the two guns, which had been deposed by the squire and
+both his servants; but Tom stoutly persisted in asserting that he was
+alone; yet, to say the truth, he hesitated a little at first, which
+would have confirmed Mr. Allworthy's belief, had what the squire and
+his servants said wanted any further confirmation.
+
+The gamekeeper, being a suspected person, was now sent for and the
+question put to him; but he, relying on the promise which Tom had made
+him to take all upon himself, very resolutely denied being in company
+with the young gentleman, or indeed having seen him the whole
+afternoon.
+
+Mr. Allworthy then turned toward Tom with more than usual anger in his
+countenance, and advised him to confess who was with him; repeating
+that he was resolved to know. The lad, however, still maintained his
+resolution, and was dismissed with much wrath by Mr. Allworthy, who
+told him he should have the next morning to consider of it, when he
+should be questioned by another person and in another manner.
+
+Poor Jones spent a very melancholy night, and the more so as he was
+without his usual companion, for Master Blifil was gone abroad on a
+visit with his mother. Fear of the punishment he was to suffer was on
+this occasion his least evil; his chief anxiety being lest his
+constancy should fail him and he should be brought to betray the
+gamekeeper, whose ruin he knew must now be the consequence.
+
+Nor did the gamekeeper pass his time much better. He had the same
+apprehensions with the youth; for whose honor he had likewise a much
+tenderer regard than for his skin.
+
+In the morning, when Tom attended the Reverend Mr. Thwackum, the
+person to whom Mr. Allworthy had committed the instruction of the two
+boys, he had the same questions put to him by that gentleman which he
+had been asked the evening before, to which he returned the same
+answers. The consequence of this was so severe a whipping, that it
+possibly fell little short of the torture with which confessions are
+in some countries extorted from criminals.
+
+Tom bore his punishment with great resolution; and tho his master
+asked him between every stroke whether he would not confess, he was
+contented to be flayed rather than betray his friend, or break the
+promise he had made.
+
+The gamekeeper was now relieved from his anxiety, and Mr. Allworthy
+himself began to be concerned at Tom's sufferings: for besides that
+Mr. Thwackum, being highly enraged that he was not able to make the
+boy say what he himself pleased, had carried his severity much beyond
+the good man's intention, this latter began now to suspect that the
+squire had been mistaken, which his extreme eagerness and anger seemed
+to make probable; and as for what the servants had said in
+confirmation of their master's account, he laid no great stress upon
+that. Now, as cruelty and injustice were two ideas of which Mr.
+Allworthy could by no means support the consciousness a single moment,
+he sent for Tom, and after many kind and friendly exhortations, said,
+"I am convinced, my dear child, that my suspicions have wronged you; I
+am sorry that you have been so severely punished on this account"; and
+at last gave him a little horse to make him amends, again repeating
+his sorrow for what had passed.
+
+Tom's guilt now flew in his face more than any severity could make it.
+He could more easily bear the lashes of Thwackum than the generosity
+of Allworthy. The tears burst from his eyes, and he fell upon his
+knees, crying, "Oh, sir, you are too good to me. Indeed you are.
+Indeed I don't deserve it." And at that very instant, from the fulness
+of his heart, had almost betrayed the secret; but the good genius of
+the gamekeeper suggested to him what might be the consequence to the
+poor fellow, and this consideration sealed his lips.
+
+Thwackum did all he could to dissuade Allworthy from showing any
+compassion or kindness to the boy, saying "he had persisted in
+untruth"; and gave some hints that a second whipping might probably
+bring the matter to light.
+
+But Mr. Allworthy absolutely refused to consent to the experiment. He
+said the boy had suffered enough already for concealing the truth,
+even if he was guilty, seeing that he could have no motive but a
+mistaken point of honor for so doing.
+
+"Honor!" cried Thwackum with some warmth: "mere stubbornness and
+obstinacy! Can honor teach any one to tell a lie, or can any honor
+exist independent of religion?"
+
+This discourse happened at table when dinner was just ended; and there
+were present Mr. Allworthy, Mr. Thwackum, and a third gentleman.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+PARTRIDGE SEES GARRICK AT THE PLAY[19]
+
+
+Mr. Jones having spent three hours in reading and kissing the
+aforesaid letter,[20] and being, at last, in a state of good spirits,
+from the last-mentioned considerations, he agreed to carry an
+appointment, which he had before made, into execution. This was, to
+attend Mrs. Miller, and her younger daughter, into the gallery at the
+playhouse, and to admit Mr. Partridge as one of the company. For as
+Jones had really that taste for humor which many affect, he expected
+to enjoy much entertainment in the criticisms of Partridge, from whom
+he expected the simple dictates of nature, unimproved, indeed, but
+likewise unadulterated by art.
+
+In the first row then of the first gallery did Mr. Jones, Mrs. Miller,
+her youngest daughter, and Partridge take their places. Partridge
+immediately declared it was the finest place he had ever been in. When
+the first music was played, he said, "it was a wonder how so many
+fiddlers could play at one time, without putting one another out."
+While the fellow was lighting the upper candles, he cried out to Mrs.
+Miller, "Look, look, madam, the very picture of the man in the end of
+the common prayer book before the gunpowder-treason service." Nor
+could he help observing with a sigh, when all the candles were
+lighted, "That here were candles enough burned in one night to keep an
+honest poor family for a whole twelvemonth."
+
+As soon as the play, which was "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," began,
+Partridge was all attention, nor did he break silence till the
+entrance of the ghost; upon which he asked Jones, "What man that was
+in the strange dress; something," said he, "like what I have seen in
+the picture. Sure it is not armor, is it?" Jones answered, "That is
+the ghost." To which Partridge replied with a smile, "Persuade me to
+that, sir, if you can. Tho I can't say I ever actually saw a ghost in
+my life, yet I am certain I should know one, if I saw him, better than
+that comes to. No, no, sir; ghosts don't appear in such dresses as
+that, neither." In this mistake, which caused much laughter in the
+neighborhood of Partridge, he was suffered to continue, till the scene
+between the ghost and Hamlet, when Partridge gave that credit to Mr.
+Garrick, which he had denied to Jones, and fell into so violent a
+trembling that his knees knocked against each other. Jones asked him
+what was the matter, and whether he was afraid of the warrior upon the
+stage? "O la! sir," said he, "I perceive now it is what you told me. I
+am not afraid of anything; for I know it is but a play. And if it was
+really a ghost, it could do one no harm at such a distance, and in so
+much company; and yet if I was frightened, I am not the only person."
+"Why, who," cries Jones, "dost thou take to be such a coward here
+besides thyself?" "Nay, you may call me a coward if you will; but if
+that little man there upon the stage is not frightened, I never saw
+any man frightened in my life. Ay, ay: go along with you! Ay, to be
+sure! Who's fool then? Will you? lud have mercy upon such
+foolhardiness? Whatever happens, it is good enough for you. Follow
+you? I'd follow the devil as soon. Nay, perhaps it is the devil--for
+they say he can put on what likeness he pleases. Oh! here he is again.
+No farther! No, you have gone far enough already; farther than I'd
+have gone for all the king's dominions." Jones offered to speak, but
+Partridge cried, "Hush! hush! dear sir, don't you hear him?" And
+during the whole speech of the ghost, he sat with his eyes fixt partly
+on the ghost and partly on Hamlet, and with his mouth open; the same
+passions which succeeded each other in Hamlet, succeeding likewise in
+him.
+
+When the scene was over Jones said, "Why, Mr. Partridge, you exceed my
+expectations. You enjoy the play more than I conceived possible."
+"Nay, sir," answered Partridge, "if you are not afraid of the devil, I
+can't help it; but to be sure, it is natural to be surprized at such
+things, tho I know there is nothing in them: not that it was the ghost
+that surprized me, neither; for I should have known that to have been
+only a man in a strange dress; but when I saw the little man so
+frightened himself, it was that which took hold of me." "And dost thou
+imagine, then, Partridge," cries Jones, "that he was really
+frightened?" "Nay, sir," said Partridge, "did not you yourself
+observe afterward, when he found it was his own father's spirit and
+how he was murdered in the garden, how his fear forsook him by
+degrees, and he was struck dumb with sorrow, as it were, just as I
+should have been, had it been my own case? But hush! O la! what noise
+is that! There he is again. Well, to be certain, tho I know there is
+nothing at all in it, I am glad I am not down yonder, where those men
+are." Then turning his eyes again upon Hamlet, "Ay, you may draw your
+sword; what signifies a sword against the power of the devil?"
+
+During the second act Partridge made very few remarks. He greatly
+admired the fineness of the dresses; nor could he help observing upon
+the king's countenance. "Well," said he, "how people may be deceived
+by faces? _Nulla fides fronti_ is, I find, a true saying. Who would
+think, by looking in the king's face, that he had ever committed a
+murder?" He then inquired after the ghost; but Jones, who intended he
+should be surprized, gave him no other satisfaction than, "that he
+might possibly see him again soon, and in a flash of fire."
+
+Partridge sat in fearful expectation of this; and now, when the ghost
+made his next appearance, Partridge cried out, "There sir, now; what
+say you now? is he frightened now or no? As much frightened as you
+think me, and, to be sure, nobody can help some fears. I would not be
+in so bad a condition as what's his name, Squire Hamlet, is there, for
+all the world. Bless me! what's become of the spirit? As I am a living
+soul, I thought I saw him sink into the earth." "Indeed, you saw
+right," answered Jones. "Well, well," cries Partridge, "I know it is
+only a play; and besides, if there was anything in all this, Madam
+Miller would not laugh so; for as to you, sir, you would not be
+afraid, I believe, if the devil was here in person. There, there--ay,
+no wonder you are in such a passion; shake the vile wicked wretch to
+pieces. If she was my own mother, I would serve her so. To be sure all
+duty to a mother is forfeited by such wicked doings.--Ay, go about
+your business; I hate the sight of you."
+
+Our critic was now pretty silent till the play which Hamlet introduces
+before the king. This he did not at first understand, till Jones
+explained it to him; but he no sooner entered into the spirit of it,
+than he began to bless himself that he had never committed murder.
+Then turning to Mrs. Miller, he asked her, "If she did not imagine the
+king looked as if he was touched; tho he is," said he, "a good actor,
+and doth all he can to hide it. Well, I would not have so much to
+answer for, as that wicked man there hath, to sit upon a much higher
+chair than he sits upon. No wonder he run away; for your sake I'll
+never trust an innocent face again."
+
+The grave-digging scene next engaged the attention of Partridge, who
+exprest much surprize at the number of skulls thrown upon the stage.
+To which Jones answered, "That it was one of the most famous
+burial-places about town." "No wonder then," cries Partridge, "that
+the place is haunted. But I never saw in my life a worse grave-digger.
+I had a sexton, when I was clerk, that should have dug three graves
+while he is digging one. The fellow handles a spade as if it was the
+first time he had ever had one in his hand. Ay, ay, you may sing. You
+had rather sing than work, I believe." Upon Hamlet's taking up the
+skull, he cried out, "Well! it is strange to see how fearless some men
+are: I never could bring myself to touch anything belonging to a dead
+man, on any account. He seemed frightened enough too at the ghost, I
+thought. _Nemo omnibus horis sapit._"
+
+Little more worth remembering occurred during the play, at the end of
+which Jones asked him, "Which of the players he had liked best?" To
+this he answered, with some appearance of indignation at the question,
+"The king, without doubt." "Indeed, Mr. Partridge," says Mrs. Miller,
+"you are not of the same opinion with the town; for they are all
+agreed that Hamlet is acted by the best player who ever was on the
+stage." "He the best player!" cries Partridge, with a contemptuous
+sneer, "why, I could act as well as he himself. I am sure, if I had
+seen a ghost, I should have looked in the very same manner, and done
+just as he did. And then, to be sure, in that scene, as you called it,
+between him and his mother, where you told me he acted so fine, why,
+Lord help me, any man, that is, any good man, that had such a mother,
+would have done exactly the same. I know you are only joking with me;
+but indeed, madam, tho I was never to a play in London, yet I have
+seen acting before in the country; and the king for my money; he
+speaks all his words distinctly, half as loud again as the other.
+Anybody may see he is an actor."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+MR. ADAMS IN A POLITICAL LIGHT[21]
+
+
+"I do assure you, sir," says he, taking the gentleman by the hand, "I
+am heartily glad to meet with a man of your kidney; for, tho I am a
+poor parson, I will be bold to say I am an honest man, and would not
+do an ill thing to be made a bishop; nay, tho it hath not fallen in my
+way to offer so noble a sacrifice, I have not been without
+opportunities of suffering for the sake of my conscience, I thank
+heaven for them; for I have had relations, tho I say it, who made some
+figure in the world, particularly a nephew, who was a shopkeeper and
+an alderman of a corporation. He was a good lad, and was under my care
+when a boy, and I believe would do what I bade him to his dying day.
+
+"Indeed, it looks like extreme vanity in me to affect being a man of
+such consequence as to have so great an interest in an alderman; but
+others have thought so too, as manifestly appeared by the rector whose
+curate I formerly was sending for me on the approach of an election,
+and telling me if I expected to continue in his cure that I must bring
+my nephew to vote for one Colonel Courtly, a gentleman whom I had
+never heard tidings of till that instant. I told the rector I had no
+power over my nephew's vote (God forgive me for such prevarication!);
+that I supposed he would give it according to his conscience; that I
+would by no means endeavor to influence him to give it otherwise. He
+told me it was in vain to equivocate; that he knew I had already spoke
+to him in favor of Squire Fickle, my neighbor; and indeed it was true
+I had; for it was at a season when the church was in danger, and when
+all good men expected they knew not what would happen to us all. I
+then answered boldly, if he thought I had given my promise he
+affronted me in proposing any breach of it.
+
+"Not to be too prolix, I persevered, and so did my nephew, in the
+esquire's interest, who was chose chiefly through his means; and so I
+lost my curacy. Well, sir, but do you think the esquire ever mentioned
+a word of the church? _ne verbum quidem, ut ita dicam_; within two
+years he got a place, and hath ever since lived in London, where I
+have been informed (but God forbid I should believe that) that he
+never so much as goeth to church. I remained, sir, a considerable time
+without any cure, and lived a full month on one funeral sermon, which
+I preached on the indisposition of a clergyman; but this by the bye.
+
+"At last, when Mr. Fickle got his place, Colonel Courtly stood again;
+and who should make interest for him but Mr. Fickle himself! that very
+identical Mr. Fickle, who had formerly told me the colonel was an
+enemy to both the church and state, had the confidence to solicit my
+nephew for him; and the colonel himself offered me to make me chaplain
+to his regiment, which I refused in favor of Sir Oliver Hearty, who
+told us he would sacrifice everything to his country; and I believe
+he would, except his hunting, which he stuck so close to that in five
+years together he went but twice up to Parliament; and one of those
+times, I have been told, never was within sight of the House. However,
+he was a worthy man, and the best friend I ever had; for, by his
+interest with a bishop, he got me replaced into my curacy, and gave me
+eight pounds out of his own pocket to buy me a gown and cassock and
+furnish my house. He had our interest while he lived, which was not
+many years.
+
+"On his death I had fresh applications made to me; for all the world
+knew the interest I had in my good nephew, who now was a leading man
+in the corporation; and Sir Thomas Booby, buying the estate which had
+been Sir Oliver's, proposed himself a candidate. He was then a young
+gentleman just come from his travels; and it did me good to hear him
+discourse on affairs, which, for my part, I knew nothing of. If I had
+been master of a thousand votes he should have had them all.
+
+"I engaged my nephew in his interest, and he was elected; and a very
+fine Parliament-man he was. They tell me he made speeches of an hour
+long, and, I have been told, very fine ones; but he could never
+persuade the Parliament to be of his opinion. _Non omnia possumus
+omnes._ He promised me a living, poor man! and I believe I should have
+had it, but an accident happened, which was that my lady had promised
+it before, unknown to him. This indeed I never heard till afterward;
+for my nephew, who died about a month before the incumbent, always
+told me I might be assured of it.
+
+"Since that time, Sir Thomas, poor man! had always so much business
+that he never could find leisure to see me. I believe it was partly my
+lady's fault, too, who did not think my dress good enough for the
+gentry at her table. However, I must do him the justice to say he
+never was ungrateful; and I have always found his kitchen, and his
+cellar too, open to me: many a time, after service on a Sunday--for I
+preached at four churches--have I recruited my spirits with a glass of
+his ale. Since my nephew's death, the corporation is in other hands;
+and I am not a man of that consequence I was formerly. I have now no
+longer any talents to lay out in service of my country; and to whom
+nothing is given, of him can nothing be required.
+
+"However, on all proper seasons, such as the approach of an election,
+I throw a suitable dash or two into my sermons, which I have the
+pleasure to hear is not disagreeable to Sir Thomas and the other
+honest gentlemen my neighbors, who have all promised me these five
+years to procure an ordination for a son of mine, who is now near
+thirty, hath an infinite stock of learning, and is, I thank Heaven, of
+an unexceptionable life; tho, as he was never at a university, the
+bishop refuses to ordain him. Too much care can not indeed be taken in
+admitting any to the sacred office; tho I hope he will never act so as
+to be a disgrace to any order, but will serve his God and his country
+to the utmost of his power, as I have endeavored to do before him;
+nay, and will lay down his life whenever called to that purpose. I am
+sure I have educated him in those principles; so that I have acquitted
+my duty, and shall have nothing to answer for on that account. But I
+do not distrust him, for he is a good boy; and if Providence should
+throw it in his way to be of as much consequence in a public light as
+his father once was, I can answer for him he will use his talents as
+honestly as I have done."
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 18: From "Tom Jones, a Foundling," Book 3, Chapter 2.]
+
+[Footnote 19: From Book 16, Chapter 5, of "The History of Tom Jones, a
+Foundling."]
+
+[Footnote 20: This was a letter from Sophia Weston, hoping "that
+Fortune may be sometime kinder to us than at present."]
+
+[Footnote 21: From Book 2, Chapter 8, of "The Adventures of Joseph
+Andrews."]
+
+
+
+
+SAMUEL JOHNSON
+
+     Born in 1709, died in 1784; son of a bookseller; educated at
+     Oxford, where he made a translation into Latin of Pope's
+     "Messiah"; established a school near Lichfield in 1736,
+     which soon failed; among its pupils David Garrick, with whom
+     he went to London in 1737; issued the plan of his
+     "Dictionary" in 1747, and published it in two volumes in
+     1755; published "The Vanity of Human Wishes" in 1749;
+     started _The Rambler_, a periodical, in 1750; writing nearly
+     the whole of it; wrote "Rasselas" in 1759; went to Scotland
+     with Boswell in 1773; published an edition of Shakespeare in
+     1765.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+ON PUBLISHING HIS "DICTIONARY"[22]
+
+
+It is the fate of those who toil at the lower employments of life to
+be rather driven by the fear of evil than attracted by the prospect of
+good; to be exposed to censure without hope of praise; to be disgraced
+by miscarriage, or punished for neglect, where success would have been
+without applause, and diligence without reward.
+
+Among these unhappy mortals is the writer of dictionaries; whom
+mankind have considered, not as the pupil, but the slave of science,
+the pioneer of literature, doomed only to remove rubbish and clear
+obstructions from the paths through which learning and genius press
+forward to conquest and glory, without bestowing a smile on the humble
+drudge that facilitates their progress. Every other author may aspire
+to praise; the lexicographer can only hope to escape reproach, and
+even this negative recompense has been yet granted to very few....
+
+In hope of giving longevity to that which its own nature forbids to be
+immortal, I have devoted this book, the labor of years, to the honor
+of my country, that we may no longer yield the palm of philology
+without a contest to the nations of the continent. The chief glory of
+every people arises from its authors: whether I shall add anything by
+my own writings to the reputation of English literature, must be left
+to time; much of my life has been lost under the pressures of disease;
+much has been trifled away; and much has always been spent in
+provision for the day that was passing over me; but I shall not think
+my employment useless or ignoble if, by my assistance, foreign nations
+and distant ages gain access to the propagators of knowledge, and
+understand the teachers of truth; if my labors afford light to the
+repositories of science, and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to
+Milton, and to Boyle.
+
+When I am animated by this wish, I look with pleasure on my book,
+however defective, and deliver it to the world with the spirit of a
+man that has endeavored well. That it will immediately become popular,
+I have not promised to myself; a few wild blunders and risible
+absurdities, from which no work of such multiplicity was ever free,
+may for a time furnish folly with laughter, and harden ignorance into
+contempt; but useful diligence will at last prevail, and there never
+can be wanting some who distinguish desert, who will consider that no
+dictionary of a living tongue ever can be perfect, since, while it is
+hastening to publication, some words are budding and some falling
+away; that a whole life can not be spent upon syntax and etymology,
+and that even a whole life would not be sufficient; that he whose
+design includes whatever language can express, must often speak of
+what he does not understand; that a writer will sometimes be hurried
+by eagerness to the end, and sometimes faint with weariness under a
+task which Scaliger compares to the labors of the anvil and the mine;
+that what is obvious is not always known, and what is known is not
+always present; that sudden fits of inadvertency will surprize
+vigilance, slight avocations will seduce attention, and casual
+eclipses of the mind will darken learning; and that the writer shall
+often in vain trace his memory at the moment of need for that which
+yesterday he knew with intuitive readiness, and which will come
+uncalled into his thoughts tomorrow.
+
+In this work, when it shall be found that much is omitted, let it not
+be forgotten that much likewise is performed; and tho no book was ever
+spared out of tenderness to the author, and the world is little
+solicitous to know whence proceeded the faults of that which it
+condemns, yet it may gratify curiosity to inform it, that the English
+Dictionary was written with little assistance of the learned, and
+without any patronage of the great; not in the soft obscurities of
+retirement, or under the shelter of academic bowers, but amid
+inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow. It may
+repress the triumph of malignant criticism to observe, that if our
+language is not here fully displayed, I have only failed in an attempt
+which no human powers have hitherto completed. If the lexicons of
+ancient tongues, now immutably fixt, and comprized in a few volumes,
+be yet, after the toil of successive ages, inadequate and delusive; if
+the aggregated knowledge and cooperating diligence of the Italian
+academicians did not secure them from the censure of Beni;[23] if the
+embodied critics of France, when fifty years had been spent upon their
+work, were obliged to change its economy, and give their second
+edition another form, I may surely be contented without the praise of
+perfection, which if I could obtain in this gloom of solitude, what
+would it avail me? I have protracted my work till most of those whom I
+wished to please have sunk into the grave, and success and miscarriage
+are empty sounds. I therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity,
+having little to fear or hope from censure or from praise.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+POPE AND DRYDEN COMPARED[24]
+
+
+Pope profest to have learned his poetry from Dryden, whom, whenever an
+opportunity was presented, he praised through his whole life with
+unvaried liberality; and perhaps his character may receive some
+illustration, if he be compared with his master.
+
+Integrity of understanding and nicety of discernment were not allotted
+in a less proportion to Dryden than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's
+mind was sufficiently shown by the dismission of his poetical
+prejudices, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged
+numbers. But Dryden never desired to apply all the judgment that he
+had. He wrote, and profest to write, merely for the people; and when
+he pleased others he contented himself. He spent no time in struggles
+to rouse latent powers; he never attempted to make that better which
+was already good, not often to mend what he must have known to be
+faulty. He wrote, as he tells us, with very little consideration; when
+occasion or necessity called upon him, he poured out what the present
+moment happened to supply, and, when once it had passed the press,
+ejected it from his mind; for when he had no pecuniary interest, he
+had no further solicitude.
+
+Pope was not content to satisfy: he desired to excel, and therefore
+always endeavored to do his best: he did not court the candor, but
+dared the judgment of his reader, and expecting no indulgence from
+others, he showed none to himself. He examined lines and words with
+minute and punctilious observation, and retouched every part with
+indefatigable diligence, till he had left nothing to be forgiven.
+
+For this reason he kept his pieces very long in his hands, while he
+considered and reconsidered them. The only poems which can be
+supposed to have been written with such regard to the times as might
+hasten their publication, were the two satires of "Thirty-eight," of
+which Dodsley[25] told me that they were brought to him by the author
+that they might be fairly copied. "Almost every line," he said, "was
+then written twice over. I gave him a clean transcript, which he sent
+some time afterward to me for the press with almost every line written
+twice over a second time."
+
+His declaration, that his care for his works ceased at their
+publication, was not strictly true. His parental attention never
+abandoned them; what he found amiss in the first edition, he silently
+corrected in those that followed. He appears to have revised the
+"Iliad," and freed it from some of its imperfections; and the "Essay
+on Criticism" received many improvements after its first appearance.
+It will seldom be found that he altered without adding clearness,
+elegance, or vigor.
+
+Pope had perhaps the judgment of Dryden, but Dryden certainly wanted
+the diligence of Pope.
+
+In acquired knowledge the superiority must be allowed to Dryden, whose
+education was more scholastic, and who, before he became an author,
+had been allowed more time for study, with better means of
+information. His mind has a larger range, and he collects his images
+and illustrations from a more extensive circumference of science.
+Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local
+manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive
+speculation, and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more
+dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of
+Pope.
+
+Poetry was not the sole praise of either; for both excelled likewise
+in prose; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The
+style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and
+uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains his
+mind to his own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and
+rapid, Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is a
+natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied
+exuberance of abundant vegetation; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by
+the scythe, and leveled by the roller.
+
+Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet, that quality without
+which judgment is cold and knowledge is inert, that energy which
+collects, combines, amplifies, and animates, the superiority must,
+with some hesitation, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred,
+that of this poetical vigor Pope had only a little because Dryden had
+more; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope; and
+even of Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs, he
+has not better poems. Dryden's performances were always hasty, either
+excited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestic necessity;
+he composed without consideration, and published without correction.
+What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was
+all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope
+enabled him to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and
+to accumulate all that study might produce or chance might supply. If
+the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope continues longer on
+the wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the
+heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation,
+and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent
+astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+LETTER TO CHESTERFIELD ON THE COMPLETION OF THE "DICTIONARY"[26]
+
+
+My Lord: I have been lately informed by the proprietor of the _World_
+that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public,
+were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honor,
+which, being very little accustomed to favors from the great, I know
+not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge.
+
+When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I
+was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your
+address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself _le
+vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre_--that I might obtain that regard
+for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so
+little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to
+continue it. When I had once addrest your Lordship in public, I had
+exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly
+scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well
+pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.
+
+Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward
+rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been
+pushing on my work through difficulties of which it is useless to
+complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication,
+without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile
+of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron
+before.
+
+The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found
+him a native of the rocks.
+
+Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man
+struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground,
+encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to
+take of my labors, had it been early had been kind: but it has been
+delayed till I am indifferent, and can not enjoy it; till I am
+solitary, and can not 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.
+
+Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any
+favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed tho I should conclude
+it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from
+that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much
+exultation, my lord,
+
+Your Lordship's most humble, most obedient servant,
+
+SAM. JOHNSON.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+ON THE ADVANTAGES OF LIVING IN A GARRET[27]
+
+
+Nothing has more retarded the advancement of learning than the
+disposition of vulgar minds to ridicule and vilify what they can not
+comprehend. All industry must be excited by hope; and as the student
+often proposes no other reward to himself than praise, he is easily
+discouraged by contempt and insult. He who brings with him into a
+clamorous multitude the timidity of recluse speculation, and has never
+hardened his front in public life, or accustomed his passions to the
+vicissitudes and accidents, the triumphs and defeats of mixt
+conversation, will blush at the stare of petulant incredulity, and
+suffer himself to be driven, by a burst of laughter, from the
+fortresses of demonstration. The mechanist will be afraid to assert
+before hardy contradictions the possibility of tearing down bulwarks
+with a silkworm's thread; and the astronomer of relating the rapidity
+of light, the distance of the fixt stars, and the height of the lunar
+mountains.
+
+If I could by any efforts have shaken off this cowardice, I had not
+sheltered myself under a borrowed name, nor applied to you for the
+means of communicating to the public the theory of a garret; a subject
+which, except some slight and transient strictures, has been hitherto
+neglected by those who were best qualified to adorn it, either for
+want of leisure to prosecute the various researches in which a nice
+discussion must engage them, or because it requires such diversity of
+knowledge, and such extent of curiosity, as is scarcely to be found in
+any single intellect; or perhaps others foresaw the tumults which
+would be raised against them, and confined their knowledge to their
+own breasts, and abandoned prejudice and folly to the direction of
+chance.
+
+That the professors of literature generally reside in the highest
+stories has been immemorially observed. The wisdom of the ancients was
+well acquainted with the intellectual advantages of an elevated
+situation; why else were the Muses stationed on Olympus, or Parnassus,
+by those who could with equal right have raised them bowers in the
+vale of Tempe, or erected their altars among the flexures of Meander?
+Why was Jove himself nursed upon a mountain? or why did the goddesses,
+when the prize of beauty was contested, try the cause upon the top of
+Ida? Such were the fictions by which the great masters of the earlier
+ages endeavored to inculcate to posterity the importance of a garret,
+which, tho they had been long obscured by the negligence and ignorance
+of succeeding times, were well enforced by the celebrated symbol of
+Pythagoras, "when the wind blows, worship its echo." This could not
+but be understood by his disciples as an inviolable injunction to live
+in a garret, which I have found frequently visited by the echo and the
+wind. Nor was the tradition wholly obliterated in the age of Augustus,
+for Tibullus evidently congratulates himself upon his garret, not
+without some allusion to the Pythagorean precept:
+
+    How sweet in sleep to pass the careless hours,
+    Lull'd by the beating winds and dashing showers!
+
+And it is impossible not to discover the fondness of Lucretius, an
+early writer, for a garret, in his description of the lofty towers of
+serene learning, and of the pleasure with which a wise man looks down
+upon the confused and erratic state of the world moving below him:
+
+    ... 'Tis sweet thy laboring steps to guide
+    To virtue's heights, with wisdom well supplied,
+    And all the magazines of learning fortified:
+    From thence to look below on human kind,
+    Bewilder'd in the maze of life, and blind.[28]
+
+The institution has, indeed, continued to our own time; the garret is
+still the usual receptacle of the philosopher and poet; but this, like
+many ancient customs, is perpetuated only by an accidental imitation,
+without knowledge of the original reason for which it was established:
+
+     The cause is secret, but th' effect is known.
+
+Conjectures have, indeed, been advanced concerning these habitations
+of literature, but without much satisfaction to the judicious
+inquirer. Some have imagined that the garret is generally chosen by
+the wits as most easily rented; and concluded that no man rejoices in
+his aerial abode, but on the days of payment. Others suspect that a
+garret is chiefly convenient, as it is remoter than any other part of
+the house from the outer door, which is often observed to be infested
+by visitants, who talk incessantly of beer, or linen, or a coat, and
+repeat the same sounds every morning, and sometimes again in the
+afternoon, without any variation, except that they grow daily more
+importunate and clamorous, and raise their voices in time from
+mournful murmurs to raging vociferations. This eternal monotony is
+always detestable to a man whose chief pleasure is to enlarge his
+knowledge, and vary his ideas. Others talk of freedom from noise, and
+abstraction from common business or amusements; and some, yet more
+visionary, tell us that the faculties are enlarged by open prospects,
+and that the fancy is more at liberty when the eye ranges without
+confinement.
+
+These conveniences may perhaps all be found in a well-chosen garret;
+but surely they can not be supposed sufficiently important to have
+operated invariably upon different climates, distant ages, and
+separate nations. Of a universal practise, there must still be
+presumed a universal cause, which, however recondite and abstruse, may
+be perhaps reserved to make me illustrious by its discovery, and you
+by its promulgation.
+
+It is universally known that the faculties of the mind are invigorated
+or weakened by the state of the body, and that the body is in a great
+measure regulated by the various compressions of the ambient element.
+The effects of the air in the production or cure of corporeal
+maladies have been acknowledged from the time of Hippocrates; but no
+man has yet sufficiently considered how far it may influence the
+operations of the genius, tho every day affords instances of local
+understanding, of wits and reasoners, whose faculties are adapted to
+some single spot, and who, when they are removed to any other place,
+sink at once into silence and stupidity. I have discovered by a long
+series of observations that invention and elocution suffer great
+impediments from dense and impure vapors, and that the tenuity of a
+defecated air at a proper distance from the surface of the earth
+accelerates the fancy and sets at liberty those intellectual powers
+which were before shackled by too strong attraction, and unable to
+expand themselves under the pressure of a gross atmosphere. I have
+found dulness to quicken into sentiment in a thin ether, as water, tho
+not very hot, boils in a receiver partly exhausted; and heads, in
+appearance empty, have teemed with notions upon rising ground, as the
+flaccid sides of a football would have swelled out into stiffness and
+extension.
+
+For this reason I never think myself qualified to judge decisively of
+any man's faculties, whom I have only known in one degree of
+elevation; but take some opportunity of attending him from the cellar
+to the garret, and try upon him all the various degrees of rarefaction
+and condensation, tension and laxity. If he is neither vivacious
+aloft, nor serious below, I then consider him as hopeless; but as it
+seldom happens that I do not find the temper to which the texture of
+his brain is fitted, I accommodate him in time with a tube of mercury,
+first marking the point most favorable to his intellects, according
+to rules which I have long studied, and which I may perhaps reveal to
+mankind in a complete treatise of barometrical pneumatology.
+
+Another cause of the gaiety and sprightliness of the dwellers in
+garrets is probably the increase of that vertiginous motion, with
+which we are carried round by the diurnal revolution of the earth. The
+power of agitation upon the spirits is well known; every man has felt
+his heart lightened in a rapid vehicle, or on a galloping horse; and
+nothing is plainer than that he who towers to the fifth story is
+whirled through more space by every circumrotation, than another that
+grovels upon the ground floor. The nations between the tropics are
+known to be fiery, inconstant, inventive, and fanciful, because,
+living at the utmost length of the earth's diameter, they are carried
+about with more swiftness than those whom nature has placed nearer to
+the poles; and, therefore, as it becomes a wise man to struggle with
+the inconveniences of his country, whenever celerity and acuteness are
+requisite, we must actuate our languor by taking a few turns round the
+center in a garret.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 22: From the Preface to the "Dictionary."]
+
+[Footnote 23: Paul Beni was an Italian literary critic, who was born
+in 1552, and died in 1625. He was a professor of theology, philosophy
+and belles-lettres. The severity of his criticisms created many
+enemies. He supported Tasso as against the Della Cruscans.]
+
+[Footnote 24: From the "Lives of the Poets."]
+
+[Footnote 25: Robert Dodsley, publisher, bookseller and author, was
+born about 1703 and died in 1764.]
+
+[Footnote 26: The date of this famous letter--perhaps now the most
+famous of all Johnson's writings--is February 7, 1755. Leslie Stephen
+has probably said the most definite word as to the circumstances in
+which it was written, and in its justification. Johnson and
+Chesterfield at one time were friendly. The first offense on
+Chesterfield's part is said to have been caused by a reception
+accorded to Colley Cibber, while Johnson was kept waiting in an
+anteroom: this, however, has been denied by Boswell on the authority
+of Johnson himself. There seems to be no doubt that Chesterfield
+neglected Johnson while he was struggling with the "Dictionary." The
+articles which he wrote for the _World_, to which the first sentence
+in the letter refers, are believed to have been written with a view to
+securing from Johnson a dedication of the "Dictionary" to himself. Mr.
+Stephen remarks on the "singular dignity and energy" of Johnson's
+letter. Johnson did not make it public in his own lifetime, but
+ultimately gave copies of it to two of his friends, one of whom was
+Boswell. Boswell published it in his "Life of Johnson," and deposited
+the original in the British Museum. Chesterfield made no reply to the
+letter, but, in conversation with Dodsley, the bookseller, a friend of
+both men, said he had always been ready to receive Johnson, and blamed
+Johnson's pride and shyness for the outcome of the acquaintance.
+Chesterfield was long thought to have referred to Johnson as a
+"respectable Hottentot," this being on the authority of Boswell, but
+Dr. Birkbeck Hill has shown that this was not true. Mr. Stephen
+declares that Johnson's letter "justifies itself," and that no author
+can fail to sympathize with his declaration of literary
+independence.]
+
+[Footnote 27: From No. 117 of _The Rambler._]
+
+[Footnote 28: This translation of the passage from Lucretius is
+Dryden's.]
+
+
+
+
+DAVID HUME
+
+     Born in 1711, died in 1776; educated at Edinburgh; lived in
+     France from 1734 to 1737; accompanied Gen. St. Clair on an
+     embassy to Vienna and Turin as judge-advocate; appointed
+     keeper of the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh in 1752;
+     visited France again in 1763; Under-secretary of State in
+     1767; published his treatise on "Human Nature" in 1739; his
+     "Essays" in 1741; his "Human Understanding" in 1748; his
+     "History of England" in 1754-61.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE CHARACTER OF QUEEN ELIZABETH[29]
+
+
+So dark a cloud overcast the evening of that day, which had shone out
+with a mighty luster in the eyes of all Europe! There are few great
+personages in history who have been more exposed to the calumny of
+enemies and the adulation of friends than Queen Elizabeth; and yet
+there is scarcely any whose reputation has been more certainly
+determined by the unanimous consent of posterity. The unusual length
+of her administration, and the strong features of her character, were
+able to overcome all prejudices; and obliging her detractors to abate
+much of their invectives, and her admirers somewhat of their
+panegyrics, have at last, in spite of political factions, and what is
+more, of religious animosities, produced a uniform judgment with
+regard to her conduct. Her vigor, her constancy, her magnanimity, her
+penetration, vigilance, and address are allowed to merit the highest
+praises, and appear not to have been surpassed by any person that ever
+filled a throne: a conduct less rigorous, less imperious, more
+sincere, more indulgent to her people, would have been requisite to
+form a perfect character. By the force of her mind she controlled all
+her more active and stronger qualities, and prevented them from
+running into excess: her heroism was exempt from temerity, her
+frugality from avarice, her friendship from partiality, her active
+temper from turbulency and a vain ambition: she guarded not herself
+with equal care or equal success from lesser infirmities--the
+rivalship of beauty, the desire of admiration, the jealousy of love,
+and the sallies of anger.
+
+Her singular talents for government were founded equally on her temper
+and on her capacity. Endowed with a great command over herself, she
+soon obtained an uncontrolled ascendent over her people; and while she
+merited all their esteem by her real virtues, she also engaged their
+affections by her pretended ones. Few sovereigns of England succeeded
+to the throne in more difficult circumstances; and none ever conducted
+the government with such uniform success and felicity. Tho
+unacquainted with the practise of toleration--the true secret for
+managing religious factions--she preserved her people, by her superior
+prudence, from those confusions in which theological controversy had
+involved all the neighboring nations: and tho her enemies were the
+most powerful princes of Europe, the most active, the most
+enterprising, the least scrupulous, she was able by her vigor to make
+deep impressions on their states; her own greatness meanwhile remained
+untouched and unimpaired.
+
+The wise ministers and brave warriors who flourished under her reign,
+share the praise of her success; but instead of lessening the applause
+due to her, they make great addition to it. They owed, all of them,
+their advancement to her choice; they were supported by her constancy,
+and with all their abilities they were never able to acquire any undue
+ascendant over her. In her family, in her court, in her kingdom, she
+remained equally mistress: the force of the tender passions was great
+over her, but the force of her mind was still superior; and the combat
+which her victory visibly cost her, serves only to display the
+firmness of her resolution, and the loftiness of her ambitious
+sentiments.
+
+The fame of this princess, tho it has surmounted the prejudices both
+of faction and bigotry, yet lies still exposed to another prejudice,
+which is more durable because more natural, and which, according to
+the different views in which we survey her, is capable either of
+exalting beyond measure or diminishing the luster of her character.
+This prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sex. When we
+contemplate her as a woman, we are apt to be struck with the highest
+admiration of her great qualities and extensive capacity; but we are
+also apt to require some more softness of disposition, some greater
+lenity of temper, some of those amiable weaknesses by which her sex is
+distinguished. But the true method of estimating her merit is to lay
+aside all these considerations, and consider her merely as a rational
+being placed in authority, and intrusted with the government of
+mankind. We may find it difficult to reconcile our fancy to her as a
+wife or a mistress; but her qualities as a sovereign, tho with some
+considerable exceptions, are the object of undisputed applause and
+approbation.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA[30]
+
+
+The Lizard was the first land made by the Armada, about sunset; and as
+the Spaniards took it for the Ramhead near Plymouth, they bore out to
+sea with an intention of returning next day, and attacking the English
+navy. They were descried by Fleming, a Scottish pirate, who was roving
+in those seas, and who immediately set sail to inform the English
+admiral of their approach, another fortunate event which contributed
+extremely to the safety of the fleet. Effingham[31] had just time to
+get out of port, when he saw the Spanish Armada coming full sail
+toward him, disposed in the form of a crescent, and stretching the
+distance of seven miles from the extremity of one division to that of
+the other.
+
+The writers of that age raise their style by a pompous description of
+this spectacle; the most magnificent that had ever appeared upon the
+ocean, infusing equal terror and admiration into the minds of all
+beholders. The lofty masts, the swelling sails, and the towering prows
+of the Spanish galleons seem impossible to be justly painted, but by
+assuming the colors of poetry; and an eloquent historian of Italy, in
+imitation of Camden, has asserted that the Armada, tho the ships bore
+every sail, yet advanced with a slow motion; as if the ocean groaned
+with supporting, and the winds were tired with impelling, so enormous
+a weight. The truth, however, is, that the largest of the Spanish
+vessels would scarcely pass for third rates in the present navy of
+England; yet were they so ill framed or so ill governed, that they
+were quite unwieldy, and could not sail upon a wind, nor tack on
+occasion, nor be managed in stormy weather, by the seamen. Neither the
+mechanics of shipbuilding, nor the experience of mariners, had
+attained so great perfection as could serve for the security and
+government of such bulky vessels; and the English, who had already had
+experience how unserviceable they commonly were, beheld without dismay
+their tremendous appearance.
+
+Effingham gave orders not to come to close fight with the Spaniards;
+where the size of the ships, he inspected, and the numbers of the
+soldiers, would be a disadvantage to the English; but to cannonade
+them at a distance, and to wait the opportunity which winds, currents,
+or various accidents, must afford him, of intercepting some scattered
+vessels of the enemy. Nor was it long before the event answered
+expectation. A great ship of Biscay, on board of which was a
+considerable part of the Spanish money, took fire by accident; and
+while all hands were employed in extinguishing the flames, she fell
+behind the rest of the Armada. The great galleon of Andalusia was
+detained by the springing of her mast, and both these vessels were
+taken, after some resistance, by Sir Francis Drake. As the Armada
+advanced up the channel, the English hung upon its rear, and still
+infested it with skirmishes. Each trial abated the confidence of the
+Spaniards, and added courage to the English; and the latter soon
+found, that even in close fight the size of the Spanish ships was no
+advantage to them. Their bulk exposed them the more to the fire of the
+enemy; while their cannon, placed too high, shot over the heads of the
+English. The alarm having now reached the coast of England, the
+nobility and gentry hastened out with their vessels from every harbor,
+and reenforced the admiral. The Earls of Oxford, Northumberland, and
+Cumberland, Sir Thomas Cecil, Sir Robert Cecil, Sir Walter Raleigh,
+Sir Thomas Vavasor, Sir Thomas Gerrard, Sir Charles Blount, with many
+others, distinguished themselves by this generous and disinterested
+service of their country. The English fleet, after the conjunction of
+those ships, amounted to a hundred and forty sail.
+
+The Armada had now reached Calais, and cast anchor before that place
+in expectation that the Duke of Parma, who had gotten intelligence of
+their approach, would put to sea and join his forces to them. The
+English admiral practised here a successful stratagem upon the
+Spaniards. He took eight of his smaller ships, and filling them with
+all combustible materials, sent them one after another into the midst
+of the enemy. The Spaniards fancied that they were fireships of the
+same contrivance with a famous vessel which had lately done so much
+execution in the Schelde near Antwerp; and they immediately cut their
+cables, and took to flight with the greatest disorder and
+precipitation. The English fell upon them next morning while in
+confusion; and besides doing great damage to other ships, they took or
+destroyed about twelve of the enemy.
+
+By this time it was become apparent, that the intention for which
+these preparations were made by the Spaniards was entirely frustrated.
+The vessels provided by the Duke of Parma were made for transporting
+soldiers, not for fighting; and that general, when urged to leave the
+harbor, positively refused to expose his flourishing army to such
+apparent hazard; while the English not only were able to keep the sea,
+but seemed even to triumph over their enemy. The Spanish admiral
+found, in many recounters, that while he lost so considerable a part
+of his own navy, he had destroyed only one small vessel of the
+English; and he foresaw that by continuing so unequal a combat, he
+must draw inevitable destruction on all the remainder. He prepared
+therefore to return homeward; but as the wind was contrary to his
+passage through the channel, he resolved to sail northward, and making
+the tour of the island, reach the Spanish harbors by the ocean. The
+English fleet followed him during some time; and had not their
+ammunition fallen short, by the negligence of the officers in
+supplying them, they had obliged the whole Armada to surrender at
+discretion. The Duke of Medina[32] had once taken that resolution; but
+was diverted from it by the advice of his confessor. This conclusion
+of the enterprise would have been more glorious to the English; but
+the event proved almost equally fatal to the Spaniards. A violent
+tempest overtook the Armada after it passed the Orkneys. The ships had
+already lost their anchors, and were obliged to keep to sea. The
+mariners, unaccustomed to such hardships, and not able to govern such
+unwieldy vessels, yielded to the fury of the storm, and allowed their
+ships to drive either on the western isles of Scotland, or on the
+coast of Ireland, where they were miserably wrecked. Not a half of the
+navy returned to Spain; and the seamen as well as soldiers who
+remained were so overcome with hardships and fatigue, and so
+dispirited by their discomfiture, that they filled all Spain with
+accounts of the desperate valor of the English, and of the tempestuous
+violence of that ocean which surrounds them.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT
+
+
+Nothing appears more surprizing to those who consider human affairs
+with a philosophical eye than the easiness with which the many are
+governed by the few; and the implicit submission with which men resign
+their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers. When we
+inquire by what means this wonder is effected, we shall find that as
+Force is always on the side of the governed, the governors have
+nothing to support them but opinion. It is, therefore, on opinion only
+that government is founded; and this maxim extends to the most
+despotic and most military governments, as well as to the most free
+and most popular. The soldan of Egypt, or the emperor of Rome, might
+drive his harmless subjects, like brute beasts, against their
+sentiments and inclination; but he must, at least, have led his
+mamelukes, or praetorian bands, like men, by their opinions.
+
+Opinion is of two kinds, to wit, opinion of interest, and opinion of
+right. By opinion of interest, I chiefly understand the sense of the
+general advantage which is reaped from government, together with the
+persuasion that the particular government, which is established, is
+equally advantageous with any other that could easily be settled. When
+this opinion prevails among the generality of a state, or among those
+who have the force in their hands, it will give great security to any
+government.
+
+Right is of two kinds, right to Power and right to Property. What
+prevalence opinion of the first kind has over mankind may easily be
+understood by observing the attachment which all nations have to their
+ancient government, and even to those names which have had the
+sanction of antiquity. Antiquity always begets the opinion of right;
+and whatever disadvantageous sentiments we may entertain of mankind,
+they are always found to be prodigal both of blood and treasure in the
+maintenance of public justice. There is, indeed, no particular in
+which, at first sight, there may appear a greater contradiction in the
+frame of the human mind than the present. When men act in a faction,
+they are apt, without shame or remorse, to neglect all the ties of
+honor and morality, in order to serve their party; and yet when a
+faction is formed upon a point of right or principle, there is no
+occasion where men discover a greater obstinacy, and a more determined
+sense of justice and equity. The same social disposition of mankind is
+the cause of these contradictory appearances.
+
+It is sufficiently understood that the opinion of right to property is
+of moment in all matters of government. A noted author has made
+property the foundation of all government; and most of our political
+writers seem inclined to follow him in that particular. This is
+carrying the matter too far; but still it must be owned that the
+opinion of right to property has a great influence in this subject.
+
+Upon these three opinions, therefore, of public interest, of right to
+power, and of right to property, are all governments founded, and all
+authority of the few over the many. There are, indeed, other
+principles, which add force to these, and determine, limit, or alter
+their operation--such as self-interest, fear, and affection; but still
+we may assert that these other principles can have no influence alone,
+but suppose the antecedent influence of those opinions above
+mentioned. They are, therefore, to be esteemed the secondary, not the
+original principles of government.
+
+For, first, as to self-interest, by which I mean the expectation of
+particular rewards, distinct from the general protection which we
+receive from government, it is evident that the magistrate's authority
+must be antecedently established, at least be hoped for, in order to
+produce this expectation. The prospect of reward may augment his
+authority with regard to some particular persons; but can never give
+birth to it, with regard to the public. Men naturally look for the
+greatest favors from their friends and acquaintance; and, therefore,
+the hopes of any considerable number of the state would never center
+in any particular set of men, if these men had no other title to
+magistracy, and had no separate influence over the opinions of
+mankind. The same observation may be extended to the other two
+principles of fear and affection. No man would have any reason to fear
+the fury of a tyrant, if he had no authority over any but from fear;
+since, as a single man, his bodily force can reach but a small way,
+and all the further power he possesses must be founded either on our
+own opinion, or on the presumed opinion of others. And tho affection
+to wisdom and virtue in a sovereign extends very far, and has great
+influence, yet he must antecedently be supposed invested with a public
+character, otherwise the public esteem will serve him in no stead, nor
+will his virtue have any influence beyond a narrow sphere.
+
+A government may endure for several ages, tho the balance of power and
+the balance of property do not coincide. This chiefly happens where
+any rank or order of the state has acquired a large share in the
+property; but, from the original constitution of the government, has
+no share in the power. Under what pretense would any individual of
+that order assume authority in public affairs? As men are commonly
+much attached to their ancient government, it is not to be expected
+that the public would ever favor such usurpations. But where the
+original constitution allows any share of power, tho small, to an
+order of men, who possess a large share of the property, it is easy
+for them gradually to stretch their authority, and bring the balance
+of power to coincide with that of property. This has been the case
+with the House of Commons in England.
+
+Most writers that have treated of the British Government have supposed
+that, as the Lower House represents all the commons of Great Britain,
+its weight in the scale is proportioned to the property and power of
+all whom it represents. But this principle must not be received as
+absolutely true. For tho the people are apt to attach themselves more
+to the House of Commons than to any other member of the constitution,
+the House being chosen by them as their representatives, and as the
+public guardians of their liberty, yet are there instances where the
+House, even when in opposition to the crown, has not been followed by
+the people; as we may particularly observe of the Tory House of
+Commons in the reign of King William. Were the members obliged to
+receive instructions from their constituents, like the Dutch deputies,
+this would entirely alter the case; and if such immense power and
+riches, as those of all the commons of Great Britain, were brought
+into the scale, it is not easy to conceive that the crown could either
+influence that multitude of people, or withstand that balance of
+property. It is true the crown has great influence over the collective
+body in the elections of members; but were this influence, which at
+present is only exerted once in seven years, to be employed in
+bringing over the people to every vote, it would soon be wasted, and
+no skill, popularity, or revenue could support it. I must, therefore,
+be of opinion that an alteration in this particular would introduce a
+total alteration in our government, and would soon reduce it to a pure
+republic--and, perhaps, to a republic of no inconvenient form. For tho
+the people, collected in a body like the Roman tribes, be quite unfit
+for government, yet, when dispersed in small bodies, they are more
+susceptible both of reason and order; the force of popular currents
+and tides is, in a great measure, broken; and the public interest may
+be pursued with some method and constancy. But it is needless to
+reason any further concerning a form of government which is never
+likely to have place.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 29: From Chapter 44 of the "History of England."]
+
+[Footnote 30: From Chapter 42 of the "History of England."]
+
+[Footnote 31: Lord Howard, of Effingham, admiral of the English
+fleet.]
+
+[Footnote 32: The Duke of Medina-Sidonia commanded the Armada, as
+successor to Santa Cruz, "the ablest seaman of Spain," who had died
+just as the ships were ready to sail. Medina-Sidonia is understood to
+have taken the command reluctantly, as if aware of his unfitness for
+so great a task, as indeed was proved by the event.]
+
+
+
+
+LAURENCE STERNE
+
+     Born in 1713, died in 1768; his father an officer in one of
+     Marlborough's regiments; educated at Cambridge, admitted to
+     holy orders in 1738; became Prebendary of York, published
+     "Tristram Shandy" in 1760; visited France in 1762 and Italy
+     in 1765; published "The Sentimental Journey" in 1768, and
+     died the same year.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE STARLING IN CAPTIVITY[33]
+
+
+And as for the Bastile, the terror is in the word. Make the most of it
+you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a
+tower, and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out
+of. Mercy on the gouty! for they are in it twice a year; but with nine
+livres a day, and pen, and ink, and paper, and patience, albeit a man
+can't get out, he may do very well within, at least for a month or six
+weeks; at the end of which, if he is a harmless fellow, his innocence
+appears, and he comes out a better and wiser man than he went in.
+
+I had some occasion--I forget what--to step into the courtyard as I
+settled this account; and remember I walked down-stairs in no small
+triumph with the conceit of my reasoning. Beshrew the somber pencil,
+said I vauntingly, for I envy not its powers, which paints the evils
+of life with so hard and deadly a coloring. The mind sits terrified
+at the objects she has magnified herself and blackened: reduce them to
+their proper size and hue, she overlooks them. "'Tis true," said I,
+correcting the proposition, "the Bastile is not an evil to be
+despised; but strip it of its towers, fill up the fosse, unbarricade
+the doors, call it simply a confinement, and suppose 'tis some tyrant
+of a distemper and not of a man which holds you in it, the evil
+vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint." I was
+interrupted in the heyday of this soliloquy with a voice which I took
+to be of a child, which complained "it could not get out." I looked up
+and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman nor child, I went
+out without further attention.
+
+In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated
+twice over; and looking up I saw it was a starling hung in a little
+cage; "I can't get out, I can't get out," said the starling. I stood
+looking at the bird; and to every person who came through the passage,
+it ran fluttering to the side toward which they approached it, with
+the same lamentation of its captivity: "I can't get out," said the
+starling. "God help thee!" said I, "but I'll let thee out, cost what
+it will"; so I turned about the cage to get the door. It was twisted
+and double-twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open
+without pulling the cage to pieces. I took both hands to it. The bird
+flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and
+thrusting his head through the trellis, prest his breast against it as
+if impatient. "I fear, poor creature," said I, "I can not set thee at
+liberty." "No," said the starling, "I can't get out; I can't get
+out," said the starling. I vow I never had my affections more
+tenderly awakened; or do I remember an incident in my life where the
+dissipated spirits, to which my reason had been a bubble, were so
+suddenly called home. Mechanical as the notes were, yet so true in
+tune to nature were they chanted, that in one moment they overthrew
+all my systematic reasonings upon the Bastile; and I heavily walked
+up-stairs, unsaying every word I had said in going down them.
+
+"Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery," said I, "still thou
+art a bitter draft; and tho thousands in all ages have been made to
+drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account. 'Tis thou,
+thrice sweet and gracious goddess," addressing myself to liberty,
+"whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful,
+and ever will be so, till Nature herself shall change; no tint of
+words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chemic power turn thy scepter into
+iron; with thee to smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is
+happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious
+Heaven!" cried I, kneeling down upon the last step but one in my
+ascent, "grant me but health, thou great bestower of it, and give me
+but this fair goddess as my companion, and shower down thy miters, if
+it seem good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are
+aching for them."
+
+The bird in his cage pursued me into my room. I sat down close to my
+table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself
+the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I
+gave full scope to my imagination. I was going to begin with the
+millions of my fellow creatures born to no inheritance but slavery;
+but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring
+it near me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but
+distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in
+his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to
+take his picture. I beheld his body half-wasted away with long
+expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the
+heart it was which arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer I
+saw him pale and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not
+once fanned his blood; he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time,
+nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice;
+his children--but here my heart began to bleed, and I was forced to go
+on with another part of the portrait. He was sitting upon the ground
+upon a little straw, in the furthest corner of his dungeon, which was
+alternately his chair and bed; a little calendar of small sticks lay
+at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had
+passed there; he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with
+a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap.
+As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye
+toward the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with
+his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turned
+his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh:
+I saw the iron enter into his soul. I burst into tears: I could not
+sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+TO MOULINES WITH MARIA[34]
+
+
+When Maria had come a little to herself, I asked her if she remembered
+a pale thin person of a man who had sat down betwixt her and her goat
+about two years before? She said she was unsettled much at that time,
+but remembered it upon two accounts; that, ill as she was, she saw the
+person pitied her: and next, that her goat had stolen his
+handkerchief, and that she had beat him for the theft. "She had washed
+it," she said, "in the brook, and kept it ever since in her pocket to
+restore it to him in case she should ever see him again, which," she
+added, "he had half promised her."
+
+As she told me this, she took the handkerchief out of her pocket to
+let me see it: she had folded it up neatly in a couple of vine-leaves,
+tied around with a tendril: on opening it, I saw an S. marked in one
+of the corners.
+
+She had since that, she told me, strayed as far as Rome, and walked
+around St. Peter's once, and returned back: that she found her way
+alone across the Apennines, had traveled over all Lombardy without
+money, and through the flinty roads of Savoy without shoes: how she
+had borne it, and how she had got supported she could not tell: "But,
+'God tempers the wind,'" said Maria, "'to the shorn lamb.'"
+
+"Shorn, indeed, and to the quick," said I: "and wast thou in my own
+land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it, and shelter
+thee; thou shouldst eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup: I
+would be kind to thy Sylvio; in all thy weaknesses and wanderings I
+would seek after thee, and bring thee back; when the sun went down, I
+would say my prayers; and when I had done, thou shouldst play thy
+evening song upon thy pipe, nor would the incense of my sacrifice be
+worse accepted for entering heaven along with that of a broken heart!"
+
+Nature melted within me as I uttered this: and Maria observing, as I
+took out my handkerchief, that it was steeped too much already to be
+of use, would needs go wash it in the stream. "And where will you dry
+it, Maria?" said I.
+
+"I'll dry it in my bosom," said she: "'twill do me good."
+
+"And is your heart still so warm, Maria?" said I.
+
+I touched upon a string on which hung all her sorrows: she looked with
+wistful disorder for some time in my face; and then, without saying
+anything, took her pipe, and played her service to the Virgin. The
+string I had touched ceased to vibrate; in a moment or two, Maria
+returned to herself, let her pipe fall, and rose up.
+
+"And where are you going, Maria?" said I.
+
+She said, "To Moulines."
+
+"Let us go," said I, "together."
+
+Maria put her arm within mine, and lengthening the string to let the
+dog follow, in that order we entered Moulines.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE DEATH OF LE FEVRE[35]
+
+
+"In a fortnight or three weeks," added my uncle Toby, smiling, "he
+might march."
+
+"He will never march, an' please your Honor, in this world," said the
+Corporal.
+
+"He will march," said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the
+bed with one shoe off.
+
+"An' please your Honor," said the Corporal, "he will never march but
+to his grave."
+
+"He shall march," cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a
+shoe on, tho without advancing an inch--"he shall march to his
+regiment."
+
+"He can not stand it," said the Corporal.
+
+"He shall be supported," said my uncle Toby.
+
+"He'll drop at last," said the Corporal, "and what will become of his
+body?"
+
+"He shall not drop," said my uncle Toby firmly.
+
+"Ah, well--a--day!--do what we can for him," said Trim, maintaining
+his point, "the poor soul will die."
+
+"He shall not die, by G--," cried my uncle Toby.
+
+The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath,
+blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel, as he wrote it
+down, dropt a tear upon the word, and blotted it out forever.
+
+My uncle Toby went to his bureau, put his purse into his
+breeches-pocket, and, having ordered the Corporal to go early in the
+morning for a physician, he went to bed and fell asleep. The sun
+looked bright the morning after to every eye in the village but to Le
+Fevre's and his afflicted son's; the hand of death prest heavy upon
+his eyelids; and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its
+circle, when my uncle Toby, who had rose up an hour before his wonted
+time, entered the Lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology,
+sat himself down upon the chair by the bedside, and independently of
+all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend
+and brother-officer would have done it, and asked him how he did, how
+he had rested in the night, what was his complaint, where was his
+pain, and what he could do to help him; and without giving him time to
+answer any one of these inquiries, went on, and told him of the little
+plan which he had been concerting with Corporal the night before for
+him.
+
+"You shall go home directly, Le Fevre," said my uncle Toby, "to my
+house, and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter: and we'll
+have an apothecary; and the Corporal shall be your nurse; and I'll be
+your servant, Le Fevre."
+
+There was a frankness in my uncle Toby, not the effect of familiarity,
+but the cause of it, which let you at once into his soul, and showed
+you the goodness of his nature. To this, there was something in his
+looks, and voice, and manner, super-added, which eternally beckoned to
+the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that, before my
+uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the
+father, had the son insensibly prest up close to his knees, and had
+taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it toward him.
+The blood and spirits of Le Fevre, which were waxing cold and slow
+within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart,
+rallied back, the film forsook his eyes for a moment; he looked up
+wishfully in my uncle Toby's face; then cast a look upon his boy; and
+that ligament, fine as it was, was never broken.
+
+Nature instantly ebbed again; the film returned to its place; the
+pulse fluttered, stopt, went on, throbbed, stopt again, moved, stopt.
+Shall I go on? No.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+PASSAGES FROM THE ROMANCE OF MY UNCLE TOBY AND THE WIDOW[36]
+
+
+Now, as Widow Wadman did love my uncle Toby, and my uncle Toby did not
+love Widow Wadman, there was nothing for Widow Wadman to do, but to go
+on and love my uncle Toby--or let it alone.
+
+Widow Wadman would do neither the one nor the other....
+
+As soon as the Corporal had finished the story of his amour--or rather
+my uncle Toby for him--Mrs. Wadman silently sallied forth from her
+arbor, replaced the pin in her mob, passed the wicker-gate, and
+advanced slowly toward my uncle Toby's sentry-box; the disposition
+which Trim had made in my uncle Toby's mind was too favorable a
+crisis to be let slipt.
+
+The attack was determined upon: it was facilitated still more by my
+uncle Toby's having ordered the Corporal to wheel off the pioneer's
+shovel, the spade, the pickax, the piquets, and other military stores
+which lay scattered upon the ground where Dunkirk stood. The Corporal
+had marched; the field was clear.
+
+Now, consider, sir, what nonsense it is, either in fighting or
+writing, or anything else (whether in rime to it or not) which a man
+has occasion to do, to act by plan: for if ever Plan, independent of
+all circumstances, deserved registering in letters of gold (I mean in
+the archives of Gotham) it was certainly the Plan of Mrs. Wadman's
+attack of my uncle Toby in his sentry-box, by Plan. Now, the plan
+hanging up in it at this juncture, being the Plan of Dunkirk, and the
+tale of Dunkirk a tale of relaxation, it opposed every impression she
+could make: and, besides, could she have gone upon it, the maneuver of
+fingers and hands in the attack of the sentry-box was so outdone by
+that of the fair Beguine's, in Trim's story, that just then, that
+particular attack, however successful before, became the most
+heartless attack that could be made.
+
+Oh! let woman alone for this. Mrs. Wadman had scarce opened the
+wicker-gate, when her genius sported with the change of circumstances.
+
+She formed a new attack in a moment.
+
+"I am half distracted, Captain Shandy," said Mrs. Wadman, holding up
+her cambric handkerchief to her left eye, as she approached the door
+of my uncle Toby's sentry-box; "a mote, or sand, or something I know
+not what, has got into this eye of mine; do look into it; it is not in
+the white."
+
+In saying which, Mrs. Wadman edged herself close in beside my uncle
+Toby, and squeezing herself down upon the corner of his bench, she
+gave him an opportunity of doing it without rising up. "Do look into
+it," said she.
+
+Honest soul! thou didst look into it with as much innocency of heart
+as ever child looked into a raree show-box; and 'twere as much a sin
+to have hurt thee.
+
+If a man will be peeping of his own accord into things of that nature,
+I've nothing to say to it.
+
+My uncle Toby never did: and I will answer for him, that he would have
+sat quietly upon a sofa from June to January (which, you know, takes
+in both the hot and cold months) with an eye as fine as the Thracian
+Rhodope's beside him, without being able to tell whether it was a
+black or a blue one.
+
+The difficulty was, to get my uncle Toby to look at one at all.
+
+'Tis surmounted. And--
+
+I see him yonder, with his pipe pendulous in his hand, and the ashes
+falling out of it, looking and looking, then rubbing his eyes, and
+looking again, with twice the good nature that ever Galileo looked for
+a spot in the sun.
+
+In vain! for, by all the powers which animate the organ, Widow
+Wadman's left eye shines this moment as lucid as her right; there is
+neither mote, nor sand, nor dust, nor chaff, nor speck, nor particle
+of opaque matter floating in it. There is nothing, my dear paternal
+uncle! but one lambent delicious fire, furtively shooting out from
+every part of it, in all directions into thine.
+
+If thou lookest, Uncle Toby, in search of this mote one moment longer,
+thou art undone.
+
+An eye is, for all the world, exactly like a cannon, in this respect,
+that it is not so much the eye or the cannon, in themselves, as it is
+the carriage of the eye and the carriage of the cannon; by which both
+the one and the other are enabled to do so much execution. I don't
+think the comparison a bad one; however, as 'tis made and placed at
+the head of the chapter, as much for use as ornament, all I desire in
+return is, that whenever I speak of Mrs. Wadman's eyes (except once in
+the next period) that you keep it in your fancy.
+
+"I protest, madam," said my uncle Toby, "I can see nothing whatever in
+your eye."
+
+"It is not in the white," said Mrs. Wadman. My uncle Toby looked with
+might and main into the pupil.
+
+Now, of all the eyes which ever were created, from your own, madam, up
+to those of Venus herself, which certainly were as venereal a pair of
+eyes as ever stood in a head, there never was an eye of them all so
+fitted to rob my uncle Toby of his repose as the very eye at which he
+was looking; it was not, madam, a rolling eye, a romping, or a wanton
+one; nor was it an eye sparkling, petulant, or imperious, of high
+claims and terrifying expectations, which would have curdled at once
+that milk of human nature, of which my uncle Toby was made up; but
+'twas an eye full of gentle salutations and soft responses, speaking,
+not like the trumpet-stop of some ill-made organ, in which many an
+eye I talk to holds coarse converse, but whispering soft, like that
+last low accent of an expiring saint, "How can you live comfortless,
+Captain Shandy, and alone, without a bosom to lean your head on--or
+trust your cares to?"
+
+It was an eye--
+
+But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another word about it.
+
+It did my uncle Toby's business....
+
+The world is ashamed of being virtuous. My uncle Toby knew little of
+the world; and therefore, when he felt he was in love with Widow
+Wadman, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a
+mystery of than if Mrs. Wadman had given him a cut with a gap'd knife
+across his finger. Had it been otherwise--yet, as he ever looked upon
+Trim as a humbler friend, and saw fresh reasons every day of his life
+to treat him as such--it would have made no variation in the manner in
+which he informed him of the affair.
+
+"I am in love, Corporal!" quoth my uncle Toby....
+
+Tho the Corporal had been as good as his word in putting my uncle
+Toby's great Ramillies wig into pipes, yet the time was too short to
+produce any great effects from it; it had lain many years squeezed up
+in the corner of his old campaign-trunk; and as bad forms are not so
+easy to be got the better of, and the use of candle-ends not so well
+understood, it was not so pliable a business as one would have wished.
+The Corporal, with cheery eye and both arms extended, had fallen back
+perpendicular from it a score times, to inspire it, if possible, with
+a better air:--had Spleen given a look at it, 'twould have cost her
+ladyship a smile; it curled everywhere but where the Corporal would
+have it; and where a buckle or two, in his opinion, would have done it
+honor, he could as soon have raised the dead.
+
+Such it was, or rather, such would it have seemed upon any other brow;
+but the sweet look of goodness which sat upon my uncle Toby's
+assimilated everything around it so sovereignly to itself, and Nature
+had, moreover, wrote gentleman with so fair a hand in every line of
+his countenance, that even his tarnished gold-laced hat and huge
+cockade of flimsy taffeta became him; and, tho not worth a button in
+themselves, yet the moment my uncle Toby put them on, they became
+serious objects, and, altogether, seemed to have been picked up by the
+hand of Science to set him off to advantage.
+
+Nothing, in this world could have cooperated more powerfully toward
+this than my uncle Toby's blue and gold, had not Quantity, in some
+measure, been necessary to grace. In a period of fifteen or sixteen
+years since they had been made, by a total inactivity in my uncle
+Toby's life (for he seldom went further than the bowling green), his
+blue and gold had become so miserably too straight for him that it was
+with the utmost difficulty the Corporal was able to get him into them;
+the taking up at the sleeves was of no advantage; they were laced,
+however, down the back, and at the seams of the sides, etc., in the
+mode of King William's reign; and to shorten all description, they
+shone so bright against the sun that morning, and had so metallic and
+doughty an air with them, that, had my uncle Toby thought of attacking
+in armor, nothing could have so well imposed upon his imagination.
+
+As for the thin scarlet breeches, they had been unripped by the tailor
+between the legs, and left at sixes and sevens.
+
+Yes, madam; but let us govern our fancies. It is enough they were held
+impracticable the night before; and, as there was no alternative in my
+uncle Toby's wardrobe, he sallied forth in the red plush.
+
+The Corporal had arrayed himself in poor Le Fevre's regimental coat;
+and with his hair tucked up under his Montero-cap, which he had
+furbished up for the occasion, marched three paces distant from his
+master; a whiff of military pride had puffed out his shirt at the
+wrist; and upon that, in a black leather thong clipt into a tassel
+beyond the knot, hung the Corporal's stick. My uncle Toby carried his
+cane like a pike.
+
+"It looks well, at least," quoth my father to himself....
+
+When my uncle Toby and the Corporal had marched down to the bottom of
+the avenue, they recollected their business lay the other way; so they
+faced about, and marched up straight to Mrs. Wadman's door.
+
+"I warrant your Honor," said the Corporal, touching his Montero-cap
+with his hand as he passed him in order to give a knock at the door.
+My uncle Toby, contrary to his invariable way of treating his faithful
+servant, said nothing good or bad; the truth was, he had not
+altogether marshaled his ideas; he wished for another conference, and,
+as the Corporal was mounting up the three steps before the door, he
+hem'd twice; a portion of my uncle Toby's most modest spirits fled, at
+each expulsion, toward the Corporal; he stood with the rapper of the
+door suspended for a full minute in his hand, he scarce knew why.
+Bridget stood perdue within, with her finger and her thumb upon the
+latch, benumbed with expectation; and Mrs. Wadman, with an eye ready
+to be deflowered again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of
+her bed-chamber, watching their approach.
+
+"Trim!" said my uncle Toby; but, as he articulated the word, the
+minute expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.
+
+My uncle Toby, perceiving that all hopes of a conference were knocked
+on the head by it, whistled Lillabullero.
+
+As Mrs. Bridget opened the door before the Corporal had well given the
+rap, the interval betwixt that and my uncle Toby's introduction into
+the parlor was so short that Mrs. Wadman had but just time to get from
+behind the curtain, lay a Bible upon the table, and advance a step or
+two toward the door to receive him.
+
+My uncle Toby saluted Mrs. Wadman, after the manner in which women
+were saluted by men in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred
+and thirteen; then facing about, he marched up abreast with her to the
+sofa, and in three plain words, tho not before he was sat down, nor
+after he was sat down, but as he was sitting down, told her, "he was
+in love"; so that my uncle Toby strained himself more in the
+declaration than he needed.
+
+Mrs. Wadman naturally looked down upon a slit she had been darning up
+in her apron, in expectation every moment that my uncle Toby would go
+on; but having no talents for amplification, and Love, moreover, of
+all others, being a subject of which he was the least a master, when
+he had told Mrs. Wadman once that he loved her, he let it alone, and
+left the matter to work after its own way.
+
+My father was always in raptures with this system of my uncle Toby's,
+as he falsely called it, and would often say, That could his brother
+Toby to his process have added but a pipe of tobacco, he had
+wherewithal to have his way, if there was faith in a Spanish proverb,
+toward the hearts of half the women upon the globe.
+
+My uncle Toby never understood what my father meant; nor will I
+presume to extract more from it than a condemnation of an error which
+the bulk of the world lie under; but the French, every one of them to
+a man, who believe in it almost as much as the Real Presence, "That
+talking of love is making it."
+
+I would as soon set about making a black pudding by the same receipt.
+
+Let us go on: Mrs. Wadman sat in expectation my uncle Toby would do
+so, to almost the first pulsation of that minute, wherein silence on
+one side or the other generally becomes indecent; so edging herself a
+little more toward him, and raising up her eyes, sub-blushing as she
+did it, she took up the gantlet, or the discourse (if you like it
+better), and communed with my uncle Toby thus:
+
+"The cares and disquietudes of the marriage-state," quoth Mrs. Wadman,
+"are very great."
+
+"I suppose so," said my uncle Toby.
+
+"And therefore when a person," continued Mrs. Wadman, "is so much at
+his ease as you are, so happy, Captain Shandy, in yourself, your
+friends, and your amusements, I wonder what reasons can incline you to
+the state?"
+
+"They are written," quoth my uncle Toby, "in the Common Prayer-Book."
+
+Thus far my uncle Toby went on warily, and kept within his depth,
+leaving Mrs. Wadman to sail upon the gulf as she pleased.
+
+"As for children," said Mrs. Wadman, "tho a principal end, perhaps, of
+the institution, and the natural wish, I suppose, of every parent, yet
+do not we all find that they are certain sorrows, and very uncertain
+comforts? and what is there, dear sir, to pay one for the heart-aches,
+what compensation for the many tender and disquieting apprehensions of
+a suffering and defenseless mother who brings them into life?"
+
+"I declare," said my uncle Toby, smitten with pity, "I know of none:
+unless it be the pleasure which it has pleased God ..."
+
+"A fiddlestick!" quoth she....
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 33: From the "Sentimental Journey."]
+
+[Footnote 34: From the "Sentimental Journey."]
+
+[Footnote 35: From "Tristram Shandy."]
+
+[Footnote 36: From "Tristram Shandy."]
+
+
+
+
+THOMAS GRAY
+
+     Born in 1716, died in 1771; educated at Eton, where he began
+     a lifelong friendship with Horace Walpole; traveled on the
+     Continent with Walpole in 1739; settled in Cambridge in
+     1741, where in 1768 he was made professor of Modern History;
+     refused the laureateship in 1757; published his "Elegy
+     Written in a Country Churchyard" in 1751; his poems and
+     letters collected by Mason in 1775.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+WARWICK CASTLE[37]
+
+
+I have been at Warwick, which is a place worth seeing. The town is on
+an eminence surrounded every way with a fine cultivated valley,
+through which the Avon winds, and at the distance of five or six
+miles, a circle of hills, well wooded, and with various objects
+crowning them, that close the prospect. Out of the town on one side of
+it, rises a rock that might remind one of your rocks at Durham, but
+that it is not so savage, or so lofty, and that the river, which,
+washes its foot, is perfectly clear, and so gentle, that its current
+is hardly visible. Upon it stands the castle, the noble old residence
+of the Beauchamps and Nevilles, and now of Earl Brooke. He has sash'd
+the great apartment that's to be sure (I can't help these things), and
+being since told, that square sash-windows were not Gothic, he has put
+certain whim-whams within side the glass, which appearing through are
+to look like fret-work. Then he has scooped out a little burrow in the
+massy walls of the place for his little self and his children, which
+is hung with paper and printed linen, and carved chimney-pieces, in
+the exact manner of Berkley Square or Argyle buildings. What in short
+can a lord do nowadays, that is lost in a great old solitary castle,
+but skulk about, and get into the first hole he finds, as a rat would
+do in like case.
+
+A pretty long old stone bridge leads you into the town with a mill at
+the end of it, over which the rock rises with the castle upon it with
+all its battlements and queer ruined towers, and on your left hand the
+Avon strays through the park, whose ancient elms seem to remember Sir
+Philip Sidney, who often walk'd under them, and talk of him to this
+day. The Beauchamp Earls of Warwick lie under stately monuments in the
+choir of the great church, and in our lady's chapel adjoining to it.
+There also lie Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick; and his brother, the
+famous Lord Leicester, with Lettice, his countess. This chapel is
+preserved entire, tho the body of the church was burned down sixty
+years ago, and rebuilt by Sir C. Wren.
+
+I had heard often of Guy-Cliff, two miles from the town; so I walked
+to see it, and of all improvers commend me to Mr. Greathead, its
+present owner. He shew'd it me himself, and is literally a fat young
+man with a head and face much bigger than they are usually worn. It
+was naturally a very agreeable rock, whose cliffs cover'd with large
+trees hung beetling over the Avon, which twists twenty ways in sight
+of it. There was the cell of Guy, Earl of Warwick, cut in the living
+stone, where he died a hermit (as you may see in a penny history, that
+hangs upon the rails in Moorfields). There were his fountains bubbling
+out of the cliff; there was a chantry founded to his memory in Henry
+the Sixth's time. But behold the trees are cut down to make room for
+flowering shrubs; the rock is cut up, till it is as smooth and as
+sleek as satin; the river has a gravel-walk by its side; the cell is a
+grotto with cockle-shells and looking glass; the fountains have an
+iron gate before them, and the chantry is a barn, or a little house.
+Even the poorest bite of nature that remain are daily threatened, for
+he says (and I am sure, when the Greatheads are once set upon a thing,
+they will do it) he is determined it shall be all new. These were his
+words, and they are fate.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+TO HIS FRIEND MASON ON THE DEATH OF MASON'S MOTHER[38]
+
+
+I break in upon you at a moment when we least of all are permitted to
+disturb our friends, only to say that you are daily and hourly present
+to my thoughts. If the worst be not yet passed, you will neglect and
+pardon me; but if the last struggle be over, if the poor object of
+your long anxieties be no longer sensible to your kindness, or to her
+own sufferings, allow me (at least in idea, for what could I do were I
+present more than this), to sit by you in silence, and pity from my
+heart, not her who is at rest, but you who lose her. May He who made
+us, the Master of our pleasures and of our pains, preserve and support
+you. Adieu.
+
+I have long understood how little you had to hope.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+ON HIS OWN WRITINGS[39]
+
+
+To your friendly accusation I am glad I can plead not guilty with a
+safe conscience. Dodsley told me in the Spring that the plates from
+Mr. Bentley's designs were worn out, and he wanted to have them copied
+and reduced to a smaller scale for a new edition. I dissuaded him from
+so silly an expense, and desired he would put in no ornaments at all.
+The "Long Story" was to be totally omitted, as its only use (that of
+explaining the prints) was gone: but to supply the place of it in
+bulk, lest my works should be mistaken for the works of a flea, or a
+pismire, I promised to send him an equal weight of poetry or prose:
+so, since my return hither, I put up about two ounces of stuff, viz.,
+the "Fatal Sisters," the "Descent of Odin" (of both which you have
+copies), a bit of something from the Welch, and certain little Notes,
+partly from justice (to acknowledge the debt where I had borrowed
+anything), partly from ill temper, just to tell the gentle reader that
+Edward I was not Oliver Cromwell, nor Queen Elizabeth the Witch of
+Endor. This is literally all; and with all this, I shall be but a
+shrimp of an author. I gave leave also to print the same thing at
+Glasgow; but I doubt my packet has miscarried, for I hear nothing of
+its arrival as yet.
+
+To what you say to me so civilly, that I ought to write more, I reply
+in your own words (like the Pamphleteer, who is going to confute you
+out of your own mouth), What has one to do when turned of fifty, but
+really to think of finishing? However, I will be candid (for you seem
+to be so with me), and avow to you, that till four-score-and-ten,
+whenever the humor takes me, I will write, because I like it; and
+because I like myself better when I do so. If I do not write much, it
+is because I can not. As you have not this last plea, I see no reason
+why you should not continue as long as it is agreeable to yourself,
+and to all such as have any curiosity or judgment in the subject you
+choose to treat. By the way let me tell you (while it is fresh) that
+Lord Sandwich, who was lately dining at Cambridge, speaking (as I am
+told) handsomely of your book, said, it was pity you did not know that
+his cousin Manchester had a genealogy of Kings, which came down no
+lower than to Richard III, and at the end of it were two portraits of
+Richard and his son, in which that king appeared to be a handsome man.
+I tell you it as I heard it; perhaps you may think it worth inquiring
+into....
+
+Mr. Boswell's book[40] I was going to recommend to you, when I
+received your letter: it has pleased and moved me strangely, all (I
+mean) that relates to Paoli. He is a man born two thousand years after
+his time! The pamphlet proves what I have always maintained, that any
+fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us
+what he heard and saw with veracity. Of Mr. Boswell's truth I have not
+the least suspicion, because I am sure he could invent nothing of this
+kind. The true title of this part of his work is, a Dialogue between a
+Green-Goose and a Hero.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+HIS FRIENDSHIP FOR BONSTETTEN[41]
+
+
+Never did I feel, my dear Bonstetten, to what a tedious length the few
+short moments of our life may be extended by impatience and
+expectation, till you had left me; nor ever knew before with so strong
+a conviction how much this frail body sympathizes with the inquietude
+of the mind. I am grown old in the compass of less than three weeks,
+like the Sultan in the Turkish tales, that did but plunge his head
+into a vessel of water and take it out again, as the standers by
+affirmed, at the command of a Dervish, and found he had passed many
+years in captivity, and begot a large family of children.
+
+The strength and spirits that now enable me to write to you, are only
+owing to your last letter a temporary gleam of sunshine. Heaven knows
+when it may shine again! I did not conceive till now, I own, what it
+was to lose you, nor felt the solitude and insipidity of my own
+condition before I possest the happiness of your friendship. I must
+cite another Greek writer to you, because it is much to my purpose; he
+is describing the character of a genius truly inclined to philosophy.
+"It includes," he says, "qualifications rarely united in one single
+mind, quickness of apprehension and a retentive memory, vivacity and
+application, gentleness and magnanimity"; to these he adds an
+invincible love of truth, and consequently of probity and justice.
+"Such a soul," continues he, "will be little inclined to sensual
+pleasures, and consequently temperate; a stranger to illiberality and
+avarice; being accustomed to the most extensive views of things, and
+sublimest contemplations, it will contract an habitual greatness, will
+look down with a kind of disregard on human life and on death;
+consequently, will possess the truest fortitude. Such," says he, "is
+the mind born to govern the rest of mankind."
+
+But these very endowments, so necessary to a soul formed for
+philosophy, are often its ruin, especially when joined to the external
+advantages of wealth, nobility, strength, and beauty; that is, if it
+light on a bad soil, and want its proper nurture, which nothing but an
+excellent education can bestow. In this case he is depraved by the
+public example, the assemblies of the people, the courts of justice,
+the theaters, that inspire it with false opinions, terrify it with
+false infamy, or elevate it with false applause; and remember, that
+extraordinary vices and extraordinary virtues are equally the produce
+of a vigorous mind: little souls are alike incapable of the one and
+the other.
+
+If you have ever met with the portrait sketched out by Plato, you will
+know it again: for my part, to my sorrow I have had that happiness. I
+see the principal features, and I foresee the dangers with a trembling
+anxiety. But enough of this, I return to your letter. It proves at
+least, that in the midst of your new gaieties I still hold some place
+in your memory, and, what pleases me above all, it had an air of
+undissembled sincerity. Go on, my best and amiable friend, to shew me
+your heart simply and without the shadow of disguise, and leave me to
+weep over it, as I now do, no matter whether from joy or sorrow.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 37: From a letter to Thomas Wharton, dated "Stoke Pogis,
+September 18, 1754."]
+
+[Footnote 38: Written on March 28, 1767. The tenderness of this brief
+letter of condolence will recall the inscription which Gray placed on
+the tomb of his own mother in Stoke Pogis church-yard--the tomb in
+which he himself was afterward buried "She was the careful, tender
+mother of many children," says the inscription, "only one of whom had
+the misfortune to survive her."]
+
+[Footnote 39: From a letter to Horace Walpole, dated "Pembroke
+College, February 25, 1768."]
+
+[Footnote 40: This refers to Boswell's visit to Corsica in 1766. The
+book he wrote was his "Journal of a Tour to Corsica, with Memoirs of
+Pascal Paoli."]
+
+[Footnote 41: From a letter to Bonstetten, dated "Cambridge, April 12,
+1770." Bonstetten was a Swiss philosopher and essayist who had formed
+a close friendship with Gray and many other eminent English men of
+culture. Bonstetten left England in March of the year in which this
+letter was written, Gray going with him as far as London, where he
+pointed out in the street the "great bear," Samuel Johnson, and saw
+Bonstetten safely into a coach bound for Dover.]
+
+
+
+
+HORACE WALPOLE
+
+     Born in 1717, died in 1797; third son of Sir Robert Walpole,
+     the Prime Minister; educated at Eton and Cambridge; traveled
+     with Thomas Gray in 1739-41; entered Parliament in 1741;
+     settled at Strawberry Hill in 1747; made fourth Earl of
+     Orford in 1791; author of many books, but best known now for
+     his letters.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+HOGARTH[42]
+
+
+Hogarth was born in the parish of St. Bartholomew, London, the son of
+a low tradesman, who bound him to a mean engraver of arms on plate;
+but before his time was expired he felt the impulse of genius, and
+felt it directed him to painting, tho little apprized at that time of
+the mode nature had intended he should pursue. His apprenticeship was
+no sooner expired than he entered into the academy in St. Martin's
+Lane, and studied drawing from the life, in which he never attained to
+great excellence. It was character, the passions, the soul, that his
+genius was given him to copy. In coloring he proved no greater a
+master; his force lay in expression, not in tints and chiaroscuro. At
+first he worked for booksellers, and designed and engraved plates for
+several books; and, which is extraordinary, no symptom of genius
+dawned in those plates. His "Hudibras" was the first of his works that
+marked him as a man above the common; yet what made him then noticed
+now surprizes us, to find so little humor in an undertaking so
+congenial to his talents. On the success, however, of those plates, he
+commenced painter, a painter of portraits: the most ill-suited
+employment imaginable to a man whose turn certainly was not flattery,
+nor his talent adapted to look on vanity without a sneer. Yet his
+facility in catching a likeness, and the methods he chose of painting
+families and conversations in small, then a novelty, drew him
+prodigious business for some time. It did not last: either from his
+applying to the real bent of his disposition, or from his customers
+apprehending that a satirist was too formidable a confessor for the
+devotees of self-love. He had already dropt a few of his smaller
+prints on some reigning follies; but as the dates are wanting on most
+of them, I can not ascertain which, tho those on the South Sea and
+"Rabbit Woman" prove that he had early discovered his talent for
+ridicule, tho he did not then think of building his reputation or
+fortune on its powers.
+
+His "Midnight Modern Conversation" was the first work that showed his
+command of character; but it was "The Harlot's Progress," published in
+1729 or 1730, that established his fame. The pictures were scarce
+finished, and no sooner exhibited to the public, and the subscription
+opened, than above twelve hundred names were entered on his book. The
+familiarity of the subject and the propriety of the execution made it
+tasted by all ranks of people. Every engraver set himself to copy it,
+and thousands of imitations were dispersed all over the kingdom. It
+was made into a pantomime, and performed on the stage. The "Rake's
+Progress," perhaps superior, had not so much success, from want of
+novelty; nor, indeed, is the print of "The Arrest" equal in merit to
+the others.
+
+The curtain was now drawn aside, and his genius stood displayed in its
+full luster. From time to time he continued to give those works that
+should be immortal, if the nature of his art will allow it. Even the
+receipts for his subscriptions had wit in them. Many of his plates he
+engraved himself, and often expunged faces etched by his assistants
+when they had not done justice to his ideas.
+
+Not content with shining in a path untrodden before, he was ambitious
+of distinguishing himself as a painter of history. But not only his
+coloring and drawing rendered him unequal to the task; the genius that
+had entered so feelingly into the calamities and crimes of familiar
+life deserted him in a walk that called for dignity and grace. The
+burlesque turn of his mind mixt itself with the most serious subjects.
+In his "Danae," the old nurse tries a coin of the golden shower with
+her teeth to see if it is true gold; in the "Pool of Bethesda," a
+servant of a rich ulcerated lady beats back a poor man that sought the
+same celestial remedy. Both circumstances are justly thought, but
+rather too ludicrous. It is a much more capital fault that "Danae"
+herself is a mere nymph of Drury. He seems to have conceived no higher
+idea of beauty.
+
+So little had he eyes to his own deficiencies, that he believed he had
+discovered the principle of grace. With the enthusiasm of a
+discoverer he cried, "Eureka!" This was his famous line of beauty,
+the groundwork of his "Analysis," a book that has many sensible hints
+and observations, but that did not carry the conviction nor meet the
+universal acquiescence he expected. As he treated his contemporaries
+with scorn, they triumphed over this publication, and imitated him to
+expose him. Many wretched burlesque prints came out to ridicule his
+system. There was a better answer to it in one of the two prints that
+he gave to illustrate his hypothesis. In "The Ball," had he confined
+himself to such outlines as compose awkwardness and deformity, he
+would have proved half his assertion; but he has added two samples of
+grace in a young lord and lady that are strikingly stiff and affected.
+They are a Bath beau and a country beauty.
+
+But this was the failing of a visionary. He fell afterward into a
+grosser mistake. From a contempt of the ignorant virtuosi of the age,
+and from indignation at the impudent tricks of picture-dealers, whom
+he saw continually recommending and vending vile copies to bubble
+collectors, and from having never studied, indeed having seen, few
+good pictures of the great Italian masters, he persuaded himself that
+the praises bestowed on those glorious works were nothing but the
+effects of prejudice. He talked this language till he believed it; and
+having heard it often asserted, as is true, that time gives a
+mellowness to colors and improves them, he not only denied the
+proposition, but maintained that pictures only grew black and worse by
+age, not distinguishing between the degrees in which the proposition
+might be true or false. He went further; he determined to rival the
+ancients, and unfortunately chose one of the finest pictures in
+England as the object of his compensation. This was the celebrated
+"Sigismonda" of Sir Luke Schaub, now in the possession of the Duke of
+Newcastle, said to be painted by Correggio, probably by Furino, but no
+matter by whom. It is impossible to see the picture, or read Dryden's
+inimitable tale, and not feel that the same soul animated both. After
+many essays Hogarth at last produced his "Sigismonda," but no more
+like "Sigismonda" than I to Hercules. Hogarth's performance was more
+ridiculous than anything he had ever ridiculed. He set the price of
+L400 on it, and had it returned on his hands by the person for whom it
+was painted. He took subscriptions for a plate of it, but had the
+sense at last to suppress it. I make no more apology for this account
+than for the encomiums I have bestowed on him. Both are dictated by
+truth, and are the history of a great man's excellences and errors.
+Milton, it is said, preferred his "Paradise Regained" to his immortal
+poem.
+
+The last memorable event of our artist's life was his quarrel with Mr.
+Wilkes; in which, if Mr. Hogarth did not commence direct hostilities
+on the latter, he at least obliquely gave the first offense by an
+attack on the friends and party of that gentleman. This conduct was
+the more surprizing, as he had all his life avoided dipping his pencil
+in political contests, and had early refused a very lucrative offer
+that was made to engage him in a set of prints against the head of a
+court party. Without entering into the merits of the cause, I shall
+only state the fact. In September, 1762, Mr. Hogarth published his
+print of _The Times_. It was answered by Mr. Wilkes in a severe _North
+Briton_. On this the painter exhibited the caricature of the writer.
+Mr. Churchill, the poet, then engaged in the war, and wrote his
+epistle to Hogarth, not the brightest of his works, and in which the
+severest strokes fell on a defect that the painter had neither caused
+nor could amend--his age; and which, however, was neither remarkable
+nor decrepit, much less had it impaired his talents, as appeared by
+his having composed but six months before one of his most capital
+works, the satire on the Methodists. In revenge for this epistle,
+Hogarth caricatured Churchill under the form of a canonical bear, with
+a club and a pot of porter--_Et vitula tu dignus et hic_. Never did
+two angry men of their abilities throw mud with less dexterity.
+
+Mr. Hogarth, in the year 1730, married the only daughter of Sir James
+Thornhill, by whom he had no children. He died of a dropsy in his
+breast at his house in Leicester Fields, October 26, 1764.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE WAR IN AMERICA[43]
+
+
+In spite of all my modesty, I can not help thinking I have a little
+something of the prophet about me. At least we have not conquered
+America yet. I did not send you immediate word of our victory at
+Boston, because the success not only seemed very equivocal, but
+because the conquerors lost three to one more than the vanquished. The
+last do not pique themselves upon modern good breeding, but level only
+at the officers, of whom they have slain a vast number. We are a
+little disappointed, indeed, at their fighting at all, which was not
+in our calculation. We knew we could conquer America in Germany, and I
+doubt had better have gone thither now for that purpose, as it does
+not appear hitherto to be quite so feasible in America itself.
+However, we are determined to know the worst, and are sending away all
+the men and ammunition we can muster. The Congress, not asleep,
+neither, have appointed a generalissimo, Washington, allowed a very
+able officer, who distinguished himself in the last war. Well, we had
+better have gone on robbing the Indies! it was a more lucrative trade.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE DEATH OF GEORGE II[44]
+
+
+The deaths of kings travel so much faster than any post, that I can
+not expect to tell you news, when I say your old master is dead. But I
+can pretty well tell you what I like best to be able to say to you on
+this occasion, that you are in no danger. Change will scarce reach to
+Florence when its hand is checked even in the capital. But I will
+move a little regularly, and then you will form your judgment more
+easily.
+
+This is Tuesday; on Friday night the King went to bed in perfect
+health, and rose so the next morning at his usual hour of six; he
+called for and drank his chocolate. At seven, his _valet de chambre_
+heard a groan. He ran in, and in a small room between the closet and
+bed-chamber he found the King on the floor, who had cut the right side
+of his face against the edge of a bureau, and who after a gasp
+expired. Lady Yarmouth was called, and sent for Princess Amelia; but
+they only told the latter that the King was ill and wanted her. She
+had been confined some days with a rheumatism, but hurried down, ran
+into the room without further notice, and saw her father extended on
+the bed. She is very purblind, and more than a little deaf. They had
+not closed his eyes; she bent down close to his face, and concluded he
+spoke to her, tho she could not hear him--guess what a shock when she
+found the truth.
+
+She wrote to the Prince of Wales--but so had one of the _valets de
+chambre_ first. He came to town, and saw the Duke [of Cumberland] and
+the Privy Council. He was extremely kind to the first--and in general
+has behaved with the greatest propriety, dignity, and decency. He read
+his speech to the Council with much grace, and dismissed the guards on
+himself to wait on his grandfather's body. It is intimated, that he
+means to employ the same ministers, but with reserve to himself of
+more authority than has lately been in fashion. The Duke of York and
+Lord Bute are named of the Cabinet Council. The late King's will is
+not yet opened. To-day everybody kissed hands at Leicester House, and
+this week, I believe, the King will go to St. James's. The body has
+been opened; the great ventricle of the heart had burst. What an
+enviable death! In the greatest period of the glory of this country,
+and of his reign, in perfect tranquillity at home, at seventy-seven,
+growing blind and deaf, to die without a pang, before any reverse of
+fortune, or any distasted peace, nay, but two days before a ship-load
+of bad news: could he have chosen such another moment?
+
+The news is bad indeed! Berlin taken by capitulation, and yet the
+Austrians behaved so savagely that even Russians felt delicacy, were
+shocked, and checked them! Nearer home, the hereditary prince has been
+much beaten by Monsieur de Castries, and forced to raise the siege of
+Wesel, whither Prince Ferdinand had sent him most unadvisedly: we have
+scarce an officer unwounded. The secret expedition will now, I
+conclude, sail, to give an _eclat_ to the new reign. Lord Albemarle
+does not command it, as I told you, nor Mr. Conway, tho both applied.
+
+Nothing is settled about the Parliament; not even the necessary
+changes in the Household. Committees of council are regulating the
+mourning and the funeral. The town, which between armies, militia, and
+approaching elections, was likely to be a desert all the winter, is
+filled in a minute, but everything is in the deepest tranquillity.
+People stare; the only expression. The moment anything is declared,
+one shall not perceive the novelty of the reign. A nation without
+parties is soon a nation without curiosity.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 42: From the "Anecdotes of Painting in England."]
+
+[Footnote 43: Letter dated "Strawberry Hill, August 3, 1775."]
+
+[Footnote 44: Letter to Sir Horace Mann, dated "Arlington Street,
+October 28, 1760."]
+
+
+
+
+GILBERT WHITE
+
+     Born in 1720, died in 1793; educated at Oxford and became a
+     fellow of Oriel; later made curate at Selborne; his "Natural
+     History of Selborne," published in 1789.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHIMNEY-SWALLOW[45]
+
+
+The house-swallow, or chimney-swallow, is undoubtedly the first comer
+of all the British _hirundines_; and appears in general on or about
+the 13th of April, as I have remarked from many years' observation.
+Not but now and then a straggler is seen much earlier: and in
+particular, when I was a boy I observed a swallow for a whole day
+together on a sunny warm Shrove Tuesday; which day could not fall out
+later than the middle of March, and often happened early in February.
+
+It is worth remarking that these birds are seen first about lakes and
+mill-ponds; and it is also very particular, that if these early
+visitors happen to find frost and snow, as was the case in the two
+dreadful springs of 1770 and 1771, they immediately withdraw for a
+time. A circumstance this, much more in favor of hiding than
+migration; since it is much more probable that a bird should retire to
+its hybernaculum just at hand, than return for a week or two to warmer
+latitudes.
+
+The swallow, tho called the chimney-swallow, by no means builds
+altogether in chimneys, but often within barns and outhouses against
+the rafters; and so she did in Virgil's time: "Garrula quam tignis
+nidos suspendat hirundo" (the twittering swallow hangs its nest from
+the beams).
+
+In Sweden she builds in barns, and is called _Ladu swala_, the
+barn-swallow. Besides, in the warmer parts of Europe, there are no
+chimneys to houses, except they are English built: in these countries
+she constructs her nest in porches, and gateways, and galleries, and
+open halls.
+
+Here and there a bird may affect some odd peculiar place; as we have
+known a swallow build down a shaft of an old well through which chalk
+had been formerly drawn up for the purpose of manure: but in general
+with us this _hirundo_ breeds in chimneys, and loves to haunt those
+stacks where there is a constant fire--no doubt for the sake of
+warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate shaft where there is
+a fire; but prefers one adjoining to that of the kitchen, and
+disregards the perpetual smoke of the funnel, as I have often observed
+with some degree of wonder.
+
+Five or six feet more down the chimney does this little bird begin to
+form her nest, about the middle of May: which consists, like that of
+the house-martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt or mud, mixt
+with short pieces of straw to render it tough and permanent; with this
+difference, that whereas the shell of the martin is nearly
+hemispheric, that of the swallow is open at the top, and like half a
+deep ditch; this nest is lined with fine grasses, and feathers which
+are often collected as they float in the air.
+
+Wonderful is the address which this adroit bird shows all day long, in
+ascending and descending with security through so narrow a pass. When
+hovering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibration of her wings,
+acting on the confined air, occasions a rumbling like thunder. It is
+not improbable that the dam submits to this inconvenient situation so
+low in the shaft, in order to secure her broods from rapacious birds;
+and particularly from owls, which frequently fall down chimneys,
+perhaps in attempting to get at these nestlings.
+
+The swallow lays from four to six white eggs, dotted with red specks;
+and brings out her first brood about the last week in June, or the
+first week in July. The progressive method by which the young are
+introduced into life is very amusing: first they emerge from the shaft
+with difficulty enough, and often fall down into the rooms below; for
+a day or so they are fed on the chimney-top, and then are conducted to
+the dead leafless bough of some tree, where, sitting in a row, they
+are attended with great assiduity, and may then be called perchers. In
+a day or two more they become fliers, but are still unable to take
+their own food; therefore they play about near the place where the
+dams are hawking for flies: and when a mouthful is collected, at a
+certain signal given, the dam and the nestling advance, rising toward
+each other, and meeting at an angle; the young one all the while
+uttering such a little quick note of gratitude and complacency, that a
+person must have paid very little regard for the wonders of nature
+that has not often remarked this feat.
+
+The dam betakes herself immediately to the business of a second brood
+as soon as she is disengaged from her first, which at once associates
+with the first broods of house-martins, and with them congregates,
+clustering on sunny roofs, towers and trees. This _hirundo_ brings out
+her second brood toward the middle and end of August.
+
+All summer long, the swallow is a most instructive pattern of
+unwearied industry and affection: for from morning to night, while
+there is a family to be supported, she spends the whole day in
+skimming close to the ground, and exerting the most sudden turns and
+quick evolutions. Avenues, and long walks under the hedges, and
+pasture-fields, and mown meadows where cattle graze, are her delight,
+especially if there are trees interspersed; because in such spots
+insects most abound. When a fly is taken, a smart snap from her bill
+is heard, resembling the noise at the shutting of a watch-case; but
+the motion of the mandibles is too quick for the eye.
+
+The swallow, probably the male bird, is the _excubitor_ to
+house-martins and other little birds; announcing the approach of birds
+of prey. For as soon as a hawk appears, with a shrill alarming note he
+calls all the swallows and martins about him; who pursue in a body,
+and buffet and strike their enemy till they have driven him from the
+village; darting down from above on his back, and rising in a
+perpendicular line in perfect security. This bird will also sound the
+alarm, and strike at cats when they climb on the roofs of houses, or
+otherwise approach the nest. Each species of _hirundo_ drinks as it
+flies along, sipping the surface of the water; but the swallow alone
+in general washes on the wing, by dropping into a pool for many times
+together: in very hot weather house-martins and bank-martins also dip
+and wash a little.
+
+The swallow is a delicate songster, and in soft sunny weather sings
+both perching and flying; on trees in a kind of concert, and on
+chimney-tops: it is also a bold flier, ranging to distant downs and
+commons even in windy weather, which the other species seems much to
+dislike; nay, even frequenting exposed seaport towns, and making
+little excursions over the salt water. Horsemen on the wide downs are
+often closely attended by a little party of swallows for miles
+together, which plays before and behind them, sweeping around and
+collecting all the skulking insects that are roused by the trampling
+of the horses' feet: when the wind blows hard, without this expedient,
+they are often forced to settle to pick up their lurking prey....
+
+A certain swallow built for two years together on the handles of a
+pair of garden shears that were stuck up against the boards in an
+outhouse, and therefore must have her nest spoiled whenever that
+implement was wanted; and what is stranger still, another bird of the
+same species built its nest on the wings and body of an owl that
+happened by accident to hang dead and dry from the rafter of a barn.
+This owl, with the nest on its wings, and with eggs in the nest, was
+brought as a curiosity worthy of the most elegant private museum in
+Great Britain.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 45: From "The Natural History of Selborne," being a letter
+to the Hon. Daines Barrington.]
+
+
+
+
+ADAM SMITH
+
+     Born in 1723, died in 1790; educated at Glasgow and Oxford;
+     lecturer in Edinburgh in 1748; professor in Glasgow in 1751;
+     became tutor to the Duke of Buccleuch in 1763; traveled on
+     the Continent in 1764-66; lived afterwards in retirement at
+     Kirkcaldy; became Commissioner of Customs in Edinburgh in
+     1778; elected Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow in
+     1787; his "Moral Sentiments" published in 1759; his "Wealth
+     of Nations" in 1776.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF AMBITION MISDIRECTED[46]
+
+
+To attain to this envied situation, the candidates for fortune too
+frequently abandon the paths of virtue; for unhappily, the road which
+leads to the one, and that which leads to the other, lie sometimes in
+very opposite directions. But the ambitious man flatters himself that,
+in the splendid situation to which he advances, he will have so many
+means of commanding the respect and admiration of mankind, and will be
+enabled to act with such superior propriety and grace, that the luster
+of his future conduct will entirely cover or efface the foulness of
+the steps by which he arrived at that elevation. In many governments
+the candidates for the highest stations are above the law, and if they
+can attain the object of their ambition, they have no fear of being
+called to account for the means by which they acquired it. They often
+endeavor, therefore, not only by fraud and falsehood, the ordinary and
+vulgar arts of intrigue and cabal, but sometimes by the perpetration
+of the most enormous crimes, by murder and assassination, by rebellion
+and civil war, to supplant and destroy those who oppose or stand in
+the way of their greatness. They more frequently miscarry than
+succeed, and commonly gain nothing but the disgraceful punishment
+which is due to their crimes.
+
+But tho they should be so lucky as to attain that wished-for
+greatness, they are always most miserably disappointed in the
+happiness which they expect to enjoy in it. It is not ease or
+pleasure, but always honor, of one kind or another, tho frequently an
+honor very ill understood, that the ambitious man really pursues. But
+the honor of his exalted station appears, both in his own eyes and in
+those of other people, polluted and defiled by the baseness of the
+means through which he rose to it. Tho by the profusion of every
+liberal expense; tho by excessive indulgence in every profligate
+pleasure--the wretched but usual resource of ruined characters; tho by
+the hurry of public business, or by the prouder and more dazzling
+tumult of war, he may endeavor to efface, both from his own memory and
+from that of other people, the remembrance of what he has done, that
+remembrance never fails to pursue him. He invokes in vain the dark and
+dismal powers of forgetfulness and oblivion. He remembers himself what
+he has done, and that remembrance tells him that other people must
+likewise remember it. Amidst all the gaudy pomp of the most
+ostentatious greatness, amidst the venal and vile adulation of the
+great and of the learned, amidst the more innocent tho more foolish
+acclamations of the common people, amidst all the pride of conquest
+and the triumph of successful war, he is still secretly pursued by the
+avenging furies of shame and remorse; and while glory seems to
+surround him on all sides, he himself, in his own imagination, sees
+black and foul infamy fast pursuing him, and every moment ready to
+overtake him from behind.
+
+Even the great Caesar, tho he had the magnanimity to dismiss his
+guards, could not dismiss his suspicions. The remembrance of Pharsalia
+still haunted and pursued him. When, at the request of the senate, he
+had the generosity to pardon Marcellus, he told that assembly that he
+was not unaware of the designs which were carrying on against his
+life; but that, as he had lived long enough both for nature and for
+glory, he was contented to die, and therefore despised all
+conspiracies. He had, perhaps, lived long enough for nature; but the
+man who felt himself the object of such deadly resentment, from those
+whose favor he wished to gain, and whom he still wished to consider as
+his friends, had certainly lived too long for real glory, or for all
+the happiness which he could ever hope to enjoy in the love and esteem
+of his equals.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE ADVANTAGES OF A DIVISION OF LABOR[47]
+
+
+Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or day-laborer
+in a civilized and thriving country, and you will perceive that the
+number of people, of whose industry a part, tho but a small part, has
+been employed in procuring him this accommodation, exceeds all
+computation. The woolen coat, for example, which covers the
+day-laborer, as coarse and rough as it may appear, is the product of
+the joint labor of a great multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the
+sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the
+scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many
+others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even
+this homely production.
+
+How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have been employed in
+transporting the materials from some of those workmen to others, who
+often live in a very distant part of the country! How much commerce
+and navigation in particular, how many ship-builders, sailors,
+sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order to bring
+together the different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often come
+from the remotest corners of the world! What a variety of labor, too,
+is necessary in order to produce the tools of the meanest of those
+workmen!
+
+To say nothing of such complicated machines as the ship of the sailor,
+the mill of the fuller, or even the loom of the weaver, let us
+consider only what a variety of labor is requisite in order to form
+that very simple machine, the shears with which the shepherd clips the
+wool. The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, the
+feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made use of in
+the smelting-house, the brick-maker, the bricklayer, the workmen who
+attend the furnace, the millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of
+them join their different arts in order to produce them.
+
+Were we to examine in the same manner all the different parts of his
+dress and household furniture, the coarse linen shirt which he wears
+next his skin, the shoes which cover his feet, the bed which he lies
+on, and all the different parts which compose it, the kitchen-grate at
+which he prepares his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for
+that purpose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him,
+perhaps, by a long sea and a long land carriage, all the other
+utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives
+and forks, the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and
+divides his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his
+bread and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the
+light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the knowledge and
+art requisite for preparing that beautiful and happy invention,
+without which these northern parts of the world could scarce have
+afforded a very comfortable habitation, together with the tools of all
+the different workmen employed in producing those different
+conveniences; if we examine, I say, all these things, and consider
+what a variety of labor is employed about each of them, we shall be
+sensible that, without the assistance and cooperation of many
+thousands, the very meanest person in a civilized country could not be
+provided, even according to what we very falsely imagine the easy and
+simple manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Compared, indeed,
+with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his accommodation must
+no doubt appear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be true,
+perhaps, that the accommodation of a European prince does not always
+so much exceed that of an industrious and frugal peasant, as the
+accommodation of the latter exceeds that of many an African king, the
+absolute masters of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked
+savages.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 46: From the "Theory of Moral Sentiments."]
+
+[Footnote 47: From "The Wealth of Nations."]
+
+
+
+
+SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE
+
+     Born in 1723, died in 1780; professor of Common Law at
+     Oxford in 1758; justice in the Court of Common Pleas in
+     1770; published his "Commentaries" in 1765-68, eight
+     editions appearing in his own lifetime, and innumerable ones
+     since.
+
+
+
+
+PROFESSIONAL SOLDIERS IN FREE COUNTRIES[48]
+
+
+In a land of liberty it is extremely dangerous to make a distinct
+order of the profession of arms. In absolute monarchies this is
+necessary for the safety of the prince, and arises from the main
+principle of their constitution, which is that of governing by fear;
+but in free states the profession of a soldier, taken singly and
+merely as a profession, is justly an object of jealousy. In these no
+man should take up arms, but with a view to defend his country and its
+laws; he puts not off the citizen when he enters the camp; but it is
+because he is a citizen, and would wish to continue so, that he makes
+himself for a while a soldier. The laws therefore and constitution of
+these kingdoms know no such state as that of a perpetual standing
+soldier, bred up to no other profession than that of war; and it was
+not till the reign of Henry VII that the kings of England had so much
+as a guard about their persons.
+
+In the time of our Saxon ancestors, as appears from Edward the
+Confessor's laws, the military force of this kingdom was in the hands
+of the dukes or heretochs, who were constituted through every province
+and county in the kingdom; being taken out of the principal nobility,
+and such as were most remarkable for being "_sapientes, fideles, et
+animosi_." Their duty was to lead and regulate the English armies,
+with a very unlimited power; "_prout eis visum fuerit, ad honorem
+coronae et utilitatem regni_." And because of this great power they
+were elected by the people in their full assembly, or folkmote, in the
+manner as sheriffs were elected; following still that old fundamental
+maxim of the Saxon constitution, that where any officer was entrusted
+with such power, as if abused might tend to the oppression of the
+people, that power was delegated to him by the vote of the people
+themselves. So, too, among the ancient Germans, the ancestors of our
+Saxon forefathers, they had their dukes, as well as kings, with an
+independent power over the military, as the kings had over the civil
+state. The dukes were elective, the kings hereditary; for so only can
+be consistently understood that passage of Tacitus, "_reges ex
+nobilitate, duces ex virtute sumunt_"; in constituting their kings,
+the family or blood royal was regarded; in choosing their dukes or
+leaders, warlike merit; just as Caesar relates of their ancestors in
+his time, that whenever they went to war, by way either of attack or
+defense, they elected leaders to command them. This large share of
+power, thus conferred by the people, tho intended to preserve the
+liberty of the subject, was perhaps unreasonably detrimental to the
+prerogative of the crown; and accordingly we find ill use made of it
+by Edric, Duke of Mercia, in the reign of King Edmund Ironside, who,
+by his office of duke or heretoch, was entitled to a large command in
+the king's army, and by his repeated treacheries at last transferred
+the crown to Canute the Dane.
+
+It seems universally agreed by all historians, that King Alfred first
+settled a national militia in this kingdom, and by his prudent
+discipline made all the subjects of his dominion soldiers; but we are
+unfortunately left in the dark as to the particulars of this his so
+celebrated regulation; tho, from what was last observed, the dukes
+seem to have been left in possession of too large and independent a
+power; which enabled Duke Harold on the death of Edward the Confessor,
+tho a stranger to the royal blood, to mount for a short space the
+throne of this kingdom, in prejudice of Edgar Atheling the rightful
+heir.
+
+Upon the Norman Conquest the feudal law was introduced here in all its
+rigor, the whole of which is built on a military plan. I shall not now
+enter into the particulars of that constitution, which belongs more
+properly to the next part of our "Commentaries"; but shall only
+observe that, in consequence thereof, all the lands in the kingdom
+were divided into what were called knights' fees, in number above
+sixty thousand (1); and for every knight's fee a knight or soldier,
+_miles_, was bound to attend the king in his wars, for forty days in a
+year (2); in which space of time, before war was reduced to a science,
+the campaign was generally finished, and a kingdom either conquered
+or victorious. By this means the king had, without any expense, an
+army of sixty thousand men always ready at his command. And
+accordingly we find one, among the laws of William the Conqueror,
+which in the king's name commands and firmly enjoins the personal
+attendance of all knights and others: "_quod habeant et teneant se
+semper in armis et equis, ut decet et oportet; et quod semper sint
+prompti et parati ad servitium suum integrum nobis explendum et
+peragendum, cum opus adfuerit, secundum quod debent feodis et
+tenementis suis de jure nobis facere_." This personal service in
+process of time degenerated into pecuniary commutations or aids, and
+at last the military part of the feudal system was abolished at the
+Restoration....
+
+As the fashion of keeping standing armies, which was first introduced
+by Charles VII in France, 1445 A.D., has of late years universally
+prevailed over Europe (tho some of its potentates, being unable
+themselves to maintain them, are obliged to have recourse to richer
+powers, and receive subsidiary pensions for that purpose), it has also
+for many years past been annually judged necessary by our legislature,
+for the safety of the kingdom, the defense of the possessions of the
+crown of Great Britain, and the preservation of the balance of power
+in Europe, to maintain even in time of peace a standing body of
+troops, under the command of the crown; who are, however, _ipso facto_
+disbanded at the expiration of every year, unless continued by
+Parliament. And it was enacted by statute (10 W. III, c. 1) that not
+more than twelve thousand regular forces should be kept on foot in
+Ireland, tho paid at the charge of that kingdom; which permission is
+extended by statute (8 Geo. III, c. 13) to 16,235 men, in time of
+peace.
+
+To prevent the executive power from being able to oppress, says Baron
+Montesquieu,[49] it is requisite that the armies with which it is
+entrusted should consist of the people, and have the same spirit with
+the people; as was the case at Rome, till Marius new modeled the
+legions by enlisting the rabble of Italy, and laid the foundation of
+all the military tyranny that ensued. Nothing, then, according to
+these principles, ought to be more guarded against in a free state,
+than making the military power, when such a one is necessary to be
+kept on foot, a body too distinct from the people. Like ours, it
+should be wholly composed of natural subjects; it ought only to be
+enlisted for a short and limited time; the soldiers also should live
+intermixt with the people; no separate camp, no barracks, no inland
+fortresses should be allowed. And perhaps it might be still better if,
+by dismissing a stated number, and enlisting others at every renewal
+of their term, a circulation could be kept up between the army and the
+people, and the citizen and the soldier be mere intimately connected
+together.
+
+To keep this body of troops in order, an annual act of Parliament
+likewise passes, "to punish mutiny and desertion, and for the better
+payment of the army and their quarters." This regulates the manner in
+which they are to be dispersed among the several innkeepers and
+victualers throughout the kingdom, and establishes a law martial for
+their government. By this, among other things, it is enacted that if
+any officer or soldier shall excite, or join any mutiny, or, knowing
+of it, shall not give notice to the commanding officer; or shall
+desert, or list in any other regiment, or sleep upon his post, or
+leave it before he is relieved, or hold correspondence with a rebel or
+enemy, or strike or use violence to his superior officer, or shall
+disobey his lawful commands; such offender shall suffer such
+punishment a court martial shall inflict, tho it extend to death
+itself.
+
+However expedient the most strict regulations may be in time of actual
+war, yet in times of profound peace a little relaxation of military
+rigor would not, one should hope, be productive of much inconvenience.
+And upon this principle, tho by our standing laws (still remaining in
+force, tho not attended to), desertion in time of war is made felony,
+without benefit of clergy, and the offense is triable by a jury and
+before justices at the common law; yet, by our militia laws before
+mentioned, a much lighter punishment is inflicted for desertion in
+time of peace. So, by the Roman law also, desertion in time of war was
+punished with death, but more mildly in time of tranquillity. But our
+Mutiny Act makes no such distinction; for any of the faults above
+mentioned are, equally at all times, punishable with death itself, if
+a court martial shall think proper.
+
+This discretionary power of the court martial is indeed to be guided
+by the directions of the crown; which, with regard to military
+offenses, has almost an absolute legislative power. "His Majesty,"
+says the act, "may form articles of war, and constitute courts
+martial, with power to try any crime by such articles, and inflict
+penalties by sentence or judgment of the same." A vast and most
+important trust! an unlimited power to create crimes, and annex to
+them any punishments, not extending to life or limb! These are indeed
+forbidden to be inflicted, except for crimes declared to be so
+punishable by this act; which crimes we have just enumerated, and
+among which we may observe that any disobedience to lawful commands is
+one. Perhaps in some future revision of this act, which is in many
+respects hastily penned, it may be thought worthy the wisdom of
+Parliament to ascertain the limits of military subjection, and to
+enact express articles of war for the government of the army, as is
+done for the government of the navy; especially as, by our
+constitution, the nobility and the gentry of the kingdom, who serve
+their country as militia officers, are annually subjected to the same
+arbitrary rule during their time of exercise.
+
+One of the greatest advantages of our English law is that not only the
+crimes themselves which it punishes, but also the penalties which it
+inflicts, are ascertained and notorious; nothing is left to arbitrary
+discretion; the king by his judges dispenses what the law has
+previously ordained, but is not himself the legislator. How much
+therefore is it to be regretted that a set of men, whose bravery has
+so often preserved the liberties of their country, should be reduced
+to a state of servitude in the midst of a nation of free men! for Sir
+Edward Coke[50] will inform us that it is one of the genuine marks of
+servitude, to have the law, which is our rule of action, either
+concealed or precarious; "_misera est servitus ubi jus est vagum aut
+incognitum_." Nor is this the state of servitude quite consistent with
+the maxims of sound policy observed by other free nations. For the
+greater the general liberty is which any state enjoys, the more
+cautious has it usually been in introducing slavery in any particular
+order or profession. These men, as Baron Montesquieu observes, seeing
+the liberty which others possess, and which they themselves are
+excluded from, are apt (like eunuchs in the eastern seraglios) to live
+in a state of perpetual envy and hatred toward the rest of the
+community, and indulge a malignant pleasure in contributing to destroy
+those privileges to which they can never be admitted. Hence have many
+free states, by departing from this rule, been endangered by the
+revolt of their slaves; while in absolute and despotic governments,
+where no real liberty exists, and consequently no invidious
+comparisons can be formed, such incidents are extremely rare. Two
+precautions are therefore advised to be observed in all prudent and
+free governments: 1. To prevent the introduction of slavery at all;
+or, 2. If it be already introduced, not to entrust those slaves with
+arms; who will then find themselves an overmatch for the freemen. Much
+less ought the soldiery to be an exception to the people in general.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 48: From the "Commentaries on the Laws of England."]
+
+[Footnote 49: Author of "The Spirit of the Laws."]
+
+[Footnote 50: Noted as jurist and as the author of comments on
+Littleton's "Tenures," a book commonly known as "Coke Upon Littleton."
+The great blot on his noble reputation is the brutality with which he
+prosecuted Sir Walter Raleigh.]
+
+
+
+
+OLIVER GOLDSMITH
+
+     Born in Ireland in 1728, died in 1774; educated at Trinity
+     College, Dublin; studied medicine in Edinburgh; traveled on
+     the Continent, chiefly on foot, in 1755-56; became a writer
+     for periodicals in London in 1757; published "The Present
+     State of Polite Learning" in 1759, "The Citizen of the
+     World" in 1762; "The Traveler" in 1765; "The Vicar of
+     Wakefield" in 1766; "The Deserted Village" in 1770.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE AMBITIONS OF THE VICAR'S FAMILY[51]
+
+
+I now began to find that all my long and painful lectures upon
+temperance, simplicity, and contentment were entirely disregarded. The
+distinctions lately paid us by our betters awakened that pride which I
+had laid asleep, but not removed. Our windows again, as formerly, were
+filled with washes for the neck and face. The sun was dreaded as an
+enemy to the skin without doors, and the fire as a spoiler of the
+complexion within. My wife observed that rising too early would hurt
+her daughters' eyes, that working after dinner would redden their
+noses, and she convinced me that the hands never looked so white as
+when they did nothing. Instead therefore of finishing George's shirts,
+we now had them new-modeling their old gauzes, or flourishing upon
+catgut. The poor Miss Flamboroughs, their former gay companions, were
+cast off as mean acquaintance, and the whole conversation ran upon
+high life and high-lived company, with pictures, taste, Shakespeare,
+and the musical glasses.
+
+But we could have borne all this, had not a fortune-telling gipsy come
+to raise us into perfect sublimity. The tawny sibyl no sooner appeared
+than my girls came running to me for a shilling apiece, to cross her
+hand with silver. To say the truth, I was tired of being always wise,
+and could not help gratifying their request, because I loved to see
+them happy. I gave each of them a shilling, tho for the honor of the
+family it must be observed that they never went without money
+themselves, as my wife always generously let them have a guinea each
+to keep in their pockets, but with strict injunctions never to change
+it. After they had been closeted up with the fortune-teller for some
+time, I knew by their looks upon their returning that they had been
+promised something great. "Well, my girls, how have you sped? Tell me,
+Livy, has the fortune-teller given thee a pennyworth?" "I protest,
+papa," says the girl, "I believe she deals with somebody that is not
+right, for she positively declared that I am to be married to a squire
+in less than a twelvemonth!" "Well now, Sophy, my child," said I, "and
+what sort of a husband are you to have?" "Sir," replied she, "I am to
+have a lord soon after my sister has married the squire." "How," cried
+I, "is that all you are to have for your two shillings? Only a lord
+and a squire for two shillings! You fools, I could have promised you a
+prince and a nabob for half the money!"
+
+This curiosity of theirs, however, was attended with very serious
+effects: we now began to think ourselves designed by the stars to
+something exalted, and already anticipated our future grandeur....
+
+It has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it once
+more, that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more
+pleasing than those crowned with fruition. In the first case we cook
+the dish to our own appetite; in the latter, nature cooks it for us.
+It is impossible to repeat the train of agreeable reveries we called
+up for our entertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as once more
+rising; and as the whole parish asserted that the Squire was in love
+with my daughter, she was actually so with him, for they persuaded her
+into the passion. In this agreeable interval my wife had the most
+lucky dreams in the world, which she took care to tell us every
+morning with great solemnity and exactness. It was one night a coffin
+and crossbones, the sign of an approaching wedding; at another time
+she imagined her daughter's pockets filled with farthings, a certain
+sign of their being shortly stuffed with gold. The girls themselves
+had their omens. They felt strange kisses on their lips; they saw
+rings in the candle; purses bounced from the fire, and true-love knots
+lurked in the bottom of every teacup.
+
+Toward the end of the week we received a card from the town ladies, in
+which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our family at
+church the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I could perceive, in
+consequence of this, my wife and daughters in close conference
+together, and now and then glancing at me with looks that betrayed a
+latent plot. To be sincere, I had strong suspicions that some absurd
+proposal was preparing for appearing with splendor the next day. In
+the evening they began their operations in a very regular manner, and
+my wife undertook to conduct the siege.
+
+After tea, when I seemed in spirits, she began thus: "I fancy, Charles
+my dear, we shall have a great deal of good company at our church
+tomorrow." "Perhaps we may, my dear," returned I; "tho you need be
+under no uneasiness about that; you shall have a sermon whether there
+be or not." "That is what I expect," returned she; "but I think, my
+dear, we ought to appear there as decently as possible, for who knows
+what may happen?" "Your precautions," replied I, "are highly
+commendable. A decent behavior and appearance in church is what charms
+me. We should be devout and humble, cheerful and serene." "Yes," cried
+she, "I know that; but I mean we should go there in as proper a manner
+as possible; not altogether like the scrubs about us." "You are quite
+right, my dear," returned I; "and I was going to make the very same
+proposal. The proper manner of going is to go there as early as
+possible, to have time for meditation before the service begins."
+"Phoo, Charles!" interrupted she; "all that is very true, but not what
+I would be at. I mean we should go there genteelly. You know the
+church is two miles off, and I protest I don't like to see my
+daughters trudging up to their pew all blowzed and red with walking,
+and looking for all the world as if they had been winners at a
+smock-race. Now, my dear, my proposal is this: there are our two
+plow-horses, the colt that has been in our family these nine years,
+and his companion Blackberry that has scarcely done an earthly thing
+this month past. They are both grown fat and lazy. Why should not they
+do something as well as we? And let me tell you, when Moses has
+trimmed them a little they will cut a very tolerable figure."
+
+To this proposal I objected that walking would be twenty times more
+genteel than such a paltry conveyance, as Blackberry was wall-eyed and
+the colt wanted a tail; that they had never been broke to the rein,
+but had a hundred vicious tricks; and that we had but one saddle and
+pillion in the whole house. All these objections, however, were
+overruled; so that I was obliged to comply. The next morning I
+perceived them not a little busy in collecting such materials as might
+be necessary for the expedition, but as I found it would be a business
+of time, I walked on to the church before, and they promised speedily
+to follow. I waited near an hour in the reading-desk for their
+arrival, but not finding them come as I expected, I was obliged to
+begin, and went through the service, not without some uneasiness at
+finding them absent. This was increased when all was finished, and no
+appearance of the family.
+
+I therefore walked back to the horse-way, which was five miles around,
+tho the foot-way was but two, and when I got about half-way home,
+perceived the procession marching slowly forward toward the church; my
+son, my wife, and the two little ones exalted upon one horse, and my
+two daughters upon the other. I demanded the cause of their delay; but
+I soon found by their looks they had met with a thousand misfortunes
+on the road. The horses had at first refused to move from the door,
+till Mr. Burchell was kind enough to beat them forward for about two
+hundred yards with his cudgel. Next, the straps of my wife's pillion
+broke down, and they were obliged to stop to repair them before they
+could proceed. After that, one of the horses took it into his head to
+stand still, and neither blows nor entreaties could prevail with him
+to proceed. They were just recovering from this dismal situation when
+I found them; but perceiving everything safe, I own their present
+mortification did not much displease me, as it would give me many
+opportunities of future triumph, and teach my daughters more humility.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+SAGACITY IN INSECTS[52]
+
+
+Animals in general are sagacious in proportion as they cultivate
+society. The elephant and the beaver show the greatest signs of this
+when united; but when man intrudes into their communities they lose
+all their spirit of industry and testify but a very small share of
+that sagacity for which, when in a social state, they are so
+remarkable.
+
+Among insects, the labors of the bee and the ant have employed the
+attention and admiration of the naturalist; but their whole sagacity
+is lost upon separation, and a single bee or ant seems destitute of
+every degree of industry, is the most stupid insect imaginable,
+languishes for a time in solitude, and soon dies.
+
+Of all the solitary insects I have ever remarked, the spider is the
+most sagacious; and its actions, to me who have attentively considered
+them, seem almost to exceed belief. This insect is formed by nature
+for a state of war, not only upon other insects, but upon each other.
+For this state nature seems perfectly well to have formed it. Its head
+and breast are covered with a strong natural coat of mail, which is
+impenetrable to the attempts of every other insect, and its belly is
+enveloped in a soft, pliant skin, which eludes the sting even of a
+wasp. Its legs are terminated by strong claws, not unlike those of a
+lobster; and their vast length, like spears, serve to keep every
+assailant at a distance.
+
+Not worse furnished for observation than for an attack or a defense,
+it has several eyes, large, transparent, and covered with a horny
+substance, which, however, does not impede its vision. Besides this,
+it is furnished with a forceps above the mouth, which serves to kill
+or secure the prey already caught in its claws or its net.
+
+Such are the implements of war with which the body is immediately
+furnished; but its net to entangle the enemy seems what it chiefly
+trusts to, and what it takes most pains to render as complete as
+possible. Nature has furnished the body of this little creature with a
+glutinous liquid, which, proceeding from the anus, it spins into
+thread, coarser or finer, as it chooses to contract or dilate its
+sphincter. In order to fix its thread when it begins to weave, it
+emits a small drop of its liquid against the wall, which hardening by
+degrees, serves to hold the thread very firmly. Then receding from its
+first point, as it recedes the thread lengthens; and when the spider
+has come to the place where the other end of the thread should be
+fixt, gathering up with its claws the thread which would otherwise be
+too slack, it is stretched tightly and fixt in the same manner to the
+wall as before.
+
+In this manner it spins and fixes several threads parallel to each
+other, which, so to speak serve as the warp to the intended web. To
+form the woof, it spins in the same manner its thread, transversely
+fixing one end to the first thread that was spun, and which is always
+the strongest of the whole web, and the other to the wall. All these
+threads being newly spun, are glutinous and therefore stick to each
+other wherever they happen to touch; and in those parts of the web
+most exposed to be torn, our natural artist strengthens them, by
+doubling the threads sometimes sixfold.
+
+Thus far naturalists have gone in the description of this animal; what
+follows is the result of my own observation upon that species of the
+insect called a house spider. I perceived about four years ago a large
+spider in one corner of my room, making its web; and tho the maid
+frequently leveled her fatal broom against the labors of the little
+animal, I had the good fortune then to prevent its destruction; and I
+may say it more than paid me by the entertainment it afforded.
+
+In three days the web was with incredible diligence completed; nor
+could I avoid thinking that the insect seemed to exult in its new
+abode. It frequently traversed it round, examined the strength of
+every part of it, retired into its hole, and came out very frequently.
+The first enemy, however, it had to encounter, was another and a much
+larger spider, which, having no web of its own, and having probably
+exhausted all its stock in former labors of this kind, came to invade
+the property of its neighbor. Soon, then, a terrible encounter ensued,
+in which the invader seemed to have the victory, and the laborious
+spider was obliged to take refuge in its hole. Upon this I perceived
+the victor using every art to draw the enemy from his stronghold. He
+seemed to go off, but quickly returned; and when he found all arts
+vain, began to demolish the new web without mercy. This brought on
+another battle, and, contrary to my expectations, the laborious spider
+became conqueror, and fairly killed his antagonist.
+
+Now, then, in peaceable possession of what was justly its own, it
+waited three days with the utmost impatience, repairing the breaches
+of its web, and taking no sustenance that I could perceive. At last,
+however, a large blue fly fell into the snare, and struggled hard to
+get loose. The spider gave it leave to entangle itself as much as
+possible, but it seemed to be too strong for the cobweb. I must own I
+was greatly surprized when I saw the spider immediately sally out,
+and in less than a minute weave a new net around its captive, by which
+the motion of its wings was stopt; and when it was fairly hampered in
+this manner, it was seized and dragged into the hole.
+
+In this manner it lived in a precarious state; and nature seemed to
+have fitted it for such a life, for upon a single fly it subsisted for
+more than a week. I once put a wasp into the net; but when the spider
+came out in order to seize it as usual, upon perceiving what kind of
+an enemy it had to deal with, it instantly broke all the bands that
+held it fast and contributed all that lay in its power to disengage so
+formidable an antagonist. When the wasp was at liberty, I expected the
+spider would have set about repairing the breaches that were made in
+its net, but those it seems were irreparable; wherefore the cobweb was
+now entirely forsaken, and a new one begun, which was completed in the
+usual time.
+
+I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a single spider could
+furnish; wherefore I destroyed this, and the insect set about another.
+When I destroyed the other also its whole stock seemed entirely
+exhausted, and it could spin no more. The arts it made use of to
+support itself, now deprived of its great means of subsistence, were
+indeed surprizing. I have seen it roll up its legs like a ball and lie
+motionless for hours together, but cautiously watching all the time.
+When a fly happened to approach sufficiently near, it would dart out
+all at once, and often seize its prey.
+
+Of this life, however, it soon began to grow weary, and resolved to
+invade the possession of some other spider, since it could not make a
+web of its own. It formed an attack upon a neighboring fortification
+with great vigor, and at first was as vigorously repulsed. Not
+daunted, however, with one defeat, in this manner it continued to lay
+siege to another's web for three days, and at length, having killed
+the defendant, actually took possession. When smaller flies happen to
+fall into the snare, the spider does not sally out at once, but very
+patiently waits till it is sure of them; for upon his immediately
+approaching, the terror of his appearance might give the captive
+strength sufficient to get loose; the manner then is to wait patiently
+till by ineffectual and impotent struggles the captive has wasted all
+its strength, and then it becomes a certain and easy conquest.
+
+The insect I am now describing lived three years; every year it
+changed its skin and got a new set of legs. I have sometimes plucked
+off a leg, which grew again in two or three days. At first it dreaded
+my approach to its web, but at last it became so familiar as to take a
+fly out of my hand; and upon my touching any part of the web, would
+immediately leave its hole, prepared either for a defense or an
+attack.
+
+To complete this description, it may be observed that the male spiders
+are much less than the female, and that the latter are oviparous. When
+they come to lay, they spread a part of their web under the eggs, and
+then roll them up carefully, as we roll up things in a cloth, and thus
+hatch them in their hole. If disturbed in their holes they never
+attempt to escape without carrying this young brood, in their forceps,
+away with them, and thus frequently are sacrificed to their paternal
+affection.
+
+As soon as ever the young ones leave their artificial covering, they
+begin to spin, and almost sensibly seem to grow bigger. If they have
+the good fortune, when even but a day old, to catch a fly, they fall
+to with good appetites; but they live sometimes three or four days
+without any sort of sustenance, and yet still continue to grow larger,
+so as every day to double their former size. As they grow old,
+however, they do not still continue to increase, but their legs only
+continue to grow longer; and when a spider becomes entirely stiff with
+age and unable to seize its prey, it dies at length of hunger.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+A CHINAMAN'S VIEW OF LONDON[53]
+
+
+Think not, O thou guide of my youth! that absence can impair my
+respect, or interposing trackless deserts blot your reverend figure
+from my memory. The further I travel I feel the pain of separation
+with stronger force; those ties that bind me to my native country and
+you are still unbroken. By every remove I only drag a greater length
+of chain.
+
+Could I find aught worth transmitting from so remote a region as this
+to which I have wandered I should gladly send it; but, instead of
+this, you must be contented with a renewal of my former professions
+and an imperfect account of a people with whom I am as yet but
+superficially acquainted. The remarks of a man who has been but three
+days in the country can only be those obvious circumstances which
+force themselves upon the imagination. I consider myself here as a
+newly created being introduced into a new world; every object strikes
+with wonder and surprize. The imagination, still unsated, seems the
+only active principle of the mind. The most trifling occurrences give
+pleasure till the gloss of novelty is worn away. When I have ceased to
+wonder, I may possibly grow wise; I may then call the reasoning
+principle to my aid, and compare those objects with each other, which
+were before examined without reflection.
+
+Behold me then in London, gazing at the strangers, and they at me; it
+seems they find somewhat absurd in my figure; and had I been never
+from home, it is possible I might find an infinite fund of ridicule in
+theirs; but by long traveling I am taught to laugh at folly alone, and
+to find nothing truly ridiculous but villainy and vice.
+
+When I had quitted my native country, and crossed the Chinese wall, I
+fancied every deviation from the customs and manners of China was a
+departing from nature. I smiled at the blue lips and red foreheads of
+the Tonguese; and could hardly contain when I saw the Daures dress
+their heads with horns. The Ostiacs powdered with red earth; and the
+Calmuck beauties, tricked out in all the finery of sheepskin, appeared
+highly ridiculous: but I soon perceived that the ridicule lay not in
+them, but in me; that I falsely condemned others for absurdity
+because they happened to differ from a standard originally founded in
+prejudice or partiality.
+
+I find no pleasure therefore in taxing the English with departing from
+nature in their external appearance, which is all I yet know of their
+character: it is possible they only endeavor to improve her simple
+plan, since every extravagance in dress proceeds from a desire of
+becoming more beautiful than nature made us; and this is so harmless a
+vanity that I not only pardon but approve it. A desire to be more
+excellent than others is what actually makes us so; and as thousands
+find a livelihood in society by such appetites, none but the ignorant
+inveigh against them.
+
+You are not insensible, most reverend Fum Hoam, what numberless
+trades, even among the Chinese, subsist by the harmless pride of each
+other. Your nose-borers, feet-swathers, tooth-stainers,
+eyebrow-pluckers would all want bread should their neighbors want
+vanity. These vanities, however, employ much fewer hands in China than
+in England; and a fine gentleman or a fine lady here, drest up to the
+fashion, seems scarcely to have a single limb that does not suffer
+some distortions from art.
+
+To make a fine gentleman, several trades are required, but chiefly a
+barber. You have undoubtedly heard of the Jewish champion whose
+strength lay in his hair. One would think that the English were for
+placing all wisdom there. To appear wise nothing more is requisite
+here than for a man to borrow hair from the heads of all his neighbors
+and clap it like a bush on his own; the distributors of law and
+physic stick on such quantities that it is almost impossible, even in
+idea, to distinguish between the head and the hair.
+
+Those whom I have been now describing affect the gravity of the lion;
+those I am going to describe more resemble the pert vivacity of
+smaller animals. The barber, who is still master of the ceremonies,
+cuts their hair close to the crown, and then with a composition of
+meal and hog's lard plasters the whole in such a manner as to make it
+impossible to distinguish whether the patient wears a cap or a
+plaster; but, to make the picture more perfectly striking, conceive
+the tail of some beast, a greyhound's tail, or a pig's tail, for
+instance, appended to the back of the head, and reaching down to that
+place where tails in other animals are generally seen to begin; thus
+betailed and bepowdered, the man of taste fancies he improves in
+beauty, dresses up his hard-featured face in smiles, and attempts to
+look hideously tender. Thus equipped, he is qualified to make love,
+and hopes for success more from the powder on the outside of his head
+than the sentiments within.
+
+Yet when I consider what sort of a creature the fine lady is to whom
+he is supposed to pay his addresses, it is not strange to find him
+thus equipped in order to please. She is herself every whit as fond of
+powder, and tails, and hog's lard, as he. To speak my secret
+sentiments, most reverend Fum, the ladies here are horribly ugly; I
+can hardly endure the sight of them; they no way resemble the beauties
+of China: the Europeans have quite a different idea of beauty from
+us. When I reflect on the small-footed perfections of an Eastern
+beauty, how is it possible I should have eyes for a woman whose feet
+are ten inches long? I shall never forget the beauties of my native
+city of Nanfew. How very broad their faces! how very short their
+noses! how very little their eyes! how very thin their lips! how very
+black their teeth! the snow on the tops of Bao is not fairer than
+their cheeks; and their eyebrows are small as the line by the pencil
+of Quamsi. Here a lady with such perfections would be frightful; Dutch
+and Chinese beauties, indeed, have some resemblance, but English women
+are entirely different; red cheeks, big eyes, and teeth of a most
+odious whiteness, are not only seen here, but wished for; and then
+they have such masculine feet, as actually serve some for walking!
+
+Yet uncivil as Nature has been, they seem resolved to outdo her in
+unkindness; they use white powder, blue powder, and black powder; for
+their hair, and a red powder for the face on some particular
+occasions.
+
+They like to have the face of various colors, as among the Tatars of
+Koreki, frequently sticking on with spittle, little black patches on
+every part of it, except on the tip of the nose, which I have never
+seen with a patch. You'll have a better idea of their manner of
+placing these spots, when I have finished the map of an English face
+patched up to the fashion, which shall shortly be sent to increase
+your curious collection of paintings, medals, and monsters.
+
+But what surprizes more than all the rest is what I have just now been
+credibly informed by one of this country. "Most ladies here," says
+he, "have two faces; one face to sleep in, and another to show in
+company. The first is generally reserved for the husband and family at
+home; the other put on to please strangers abroad. The family face is
+often indifferent enough, but the outdoor one looks something better;
+this is always made at the toilet, where the looking-glass and
+toadeater sit in council, and settle the complexion of the day."
+
+I can't ascertain the truth of this remark; however, it is actually
+certain that they wear more clothes within doors than without, and I
+have seen a lady, who seemed to shudder at a breeze in her own
+apartment, appear half-naked in the streets. Farewell.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 51: From "The Vicar of Wakefield."]
+
+[Footnote 52: From "The Bee, Being Essays on the Most Interesting
+Subjects," and published in 1759. Of these essays eight had been
+previously published as weekly contributions.]
+
+[Footnote 53: Letter No. III in "The Citizen of the World," the writer
+being a Chinaman.]
+
+
+
+
+EDMUND BURKE
+
+     Born in Ireland in 1729, died is 1797; educated at Trinity
+     College, Dublin; elected to Parliament in 1766; made his
+     famous speech on American affairs in 1774; became
+     Paymaster-general and Privy Counselor in 1782; conducted the
+     impeachment trial of Warren Hastings in 1787-95; published
+     "Natural Society" in 1756; "The Sublime and Beautiful" in
+     1756; "The Present Discontent" in 1770; "Reflections on the
+     Revolution in France" in 1790.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE PRINCIPLES OF GOOD TASTE[54]
+
+
+On a superficial view we may seem to differ very widely from each
+other in our reasonings, and no less in our pleasures; but
+notwithstanding this difference, which I think to be rather apparent
+than real, it is probable that the standard both of reason and taste
+is the same in all human creatures. For if there were not some
+principles of judgment as well as of sentiment common to all mankind,
+no hold could possibly be taken either on their reason or their
+passions sufficient to maintain the ordinary correspondence of life.
+It appears indeed to be generally acknowledged that with regard to
+truth and falsehood there is something fixt. We find people in their
+disputes continually appealing to certain tests and standards, which
+are allowed on all sides, and are supposed to be established in our
+common nature.
+
+But there is not the same obvious concurrence in any uniform or
+settled principles which relate to taste. It is even commonly supposed
+that this delicate and aerial faculty, which seems too volatile to
+endure even the chains of a definition, can not be properly tried by
+any test, nor regulated by any standard. There is so continual a call
+for the exercise of the reasoning faculty, and it is so much
+strengthened by perpetual contention, that certain maxims of right
+reason seem to be tacitly settled amongst the most ignorant. The
+learned have improved on this rude science and reduced those maxims
+into a system. If taste has not been so happily cultivated, it was not
+that the subject was barren, but that the laborers were few or
+negligent; for to say the truth, there are not the same interesting
+motives to impel us to fix the one which urge us to ascertain the
+other.
+
+And after all, if men differ in their opinion concerning such matters,
+their difference is not attended with the same important consequences;
+else I make no doubt but that the logic of taste, if I may be allowed
+the expression, might very possibly be as well digested, and we might
+come to discuss matters of this nature with as much certainty as those
+which seem more immediately within the province of mere reason. And
+indeed, it is very necessary, at the entrance into such an inquiry as
+our present, to make this point as clear as possible; for if taste has
+no fixt principles, if the imagination is not affected according to
+some invariable and certain laws, our labor is like to be employed to
+very little purpose; as it must be judged a useless, if not an absurd
+undertaking, to lay down rules for caprice, and to set up for a
+legislator of whims and fancies.
+
+The term taste, like all other figurative terms, is not extremely
+accurate; the thing which we understand by it is far from a simple and
+determinate idea in the minds of most men, and it is therefore liable
+to uncertainty and confusion. I have no great opinion of a definition,
+the celebrated remedy for the cure of this disorder. For when we
+define, we seem in danger of circumscribing nature within the bounds
+of our own notions, which we often take up by hazard, or embrace on
+trust, or form out of a limited and partial consideration of the
+object before us, instead of extending our ideas to take in all that
+nature comprehends, according to her manner of combining. We are
+limited in our inquiry by the strict laws to which we have submitted
+at our setting out.
+
+     _... Circa vilem patulumque morabimur orbem,
+      Unde pudor proferre pedem vetet aut operis lex._
+
+A definition may be very exact, and yet go but a very little way
+toward informing us of the nature of the thing defined; but let the
+virtue of a definition be what it will, in the order of things, it
+seems rather to follow than to precede our inquiry, of which it ought
+to be considered as the result. It must be acknowledged that the
+methods of disquisition and teaching may be sometimes different, and
+on very good reason undoubtedly; but for my part, I am convinced that
+the method of teaching which approaches most nearly to the method of
+investigation is incomparably the best; since, not content with
+serving up a few barren and lifeless truths, it leads to the stock on
+which they grew; it tends to set the reader himself in the track of
+invention, and to direct him into those paths in which the author has
+made his own discoveries, if he should be so happy as to have made any
+that are valuable.
+
+But to cut off all pretense for caviling, I mean by the word Taste no
+more than that faculty or those faculties of the mind which are
+affected with, or which form a judgment of, the works of imagination
+and the elegant arts. This is, I think the most general idea of that
+word, and what is the least connected with any particular theory. And
+my point in this inquiry is, to find whether there are any principles
+on which the imagination is affected, so common to all, so grounded
+and certain, as to supply the means of reasoning satisfactorily about
+them. And such principles of taste I fancy there are, however
+paradoxical it may seem to those who on a superficial view imagine
+that there is so great a diversity of tastes, both in kind and degree,
+that nothing can be more determinate.
+
+All the natural powers in man, which I know, that are conversant about
+external objects are the senses, the imagination, and the judgment.
+And first with regard to the senses. We do and we must suppose, that
+as the conformation of their organs are nearly or altogether the same
+in all men, so the manner of perceiving external objects is in all men
+the same, or with little difference. We are satisfied that what
+appears to be light to one eye appears light to another; that what
+seems sweet to one palate is sweet to another; that what is dark and
+bitter to this man is likewise dark and bitter to that; and we
+conclude in the same manner of great and little, hard and soft, hot
+and cold, rough and smooth; and indeed of all the natural qualities
+and affections of bodies. If we suffer ourselves to imagine that their
+senses present to different men different images of things this
+skeptical proceeding will make every sort of reasoning on every
+subject vain and frivolous, even that skeptical reasoning itself which
+had persuaded us to entertain a doubt concerning the agreement of our
+perceptions.
+
+But as there will be little doubt that bodies present similar images
+to the whole species, it must necessarily be allowed that the
+pleasures and the pains which every object excites in one man, it must
+raise in all mankind, whilst it operates, naturally, simply, and by
+its proper powers only; for if we deny this, we must imagine that the
+same cause operating in the same manner, and on subjects of the same
+kind, will produce different effects, which would be highly absurd.
+Let us first consider this point in the sense of taste, and the rather
+as the faculty in question has taken its name from that sense. All men
+are agreed to call vinegar sour, honey sweet, and aloes bitter; and as
+they are all agreed in finding these qualities in those objects, they
+do not in the least differ concerning their effects with regard to
+pleasure and pain. They all concur in calling sweetness pleasant, and
+sourness and bitterness unpleasant.
+
+Here there is no diversity in their sentiments; and that there is not
+appears fully from the consent of all men in the metaphors which are
+taken from the sense of taste. A sour temper, bitter expressions,
+bitter curses, a bitter fate, are terms well and strongly understood
+by all. And we are altogether as well understood when we say a sweet
+disposition, a sweet person, a sweet condition, and the like. It is
+confest that custom and some other causes have made many deviations
+from the natural pleasures or pains which belong to these several
+tastes; but then the power of distinguishing between the natural and
+the acquired relish remains to the very last. A man frequently comes
+to prefer the taste of tobacco to that of sugar, and the flavor of
+vinegar to that of milk; but this makes no confusion in tastes, whilst
+he is sensible that the tobacco and vinegar are not sweet, and whilst
+he knows that habit alone has reconciled his palate to these alien
+pleasures. Even with such a person we may speak, and with sufficient
+precision, concerning tastes. But should any man be found who declares
+that to him tobacco has a taste like sugar, and that he can not
+distinguish between milk and vinegar; or that tobacco and vinegar are
+sweet, milk bitter, and sugar sour; we immediately conclude that the
+organs of this man are out of order and that his palate is utterly
+vitiated. We are as far from conferring with such a person upon tastes
+as from reasoning concerning the relations of quantity with one who
+should deny that all the parts together were equal to the whole. We do
+not call a man of this kind wrong in his notions, but absolutely mad.
+Exceptions of this sort, in either way, do not at all impeach our
+general rule, nor make us conclude that men have various principles
+concerning the relations of quantity or the taste of things. So that
+when it is said taste can not be disputed, it can only mean that no
+one can strictly answer what pleasure or pain some particular man may
+find from the taste of some particular thing. This indeed can not be
+disputed; but we may dispute, and with sufficient clearness too,
+concerning the things which are naturally pleasing or disagreeable to
+the sense. But when we talk of any peculiar or acquired relish, then
+we must know the habits, the prejudices, or the distempers of this
+particular man, and we must draw our conclusion from those.
+
+This agreement of mankind is not confined to the taste solely. The
+principle of pleasure derived from sight is the same in all. Light is
+more pleasing than darkness. Summer, when the earth is clad in green,
+when the heavens are serene and bright, is more agreeable than winter,
+when everything makes a different appearance. I never remember that
+anything beautiful, whether a man, a beast, a bird, or a plant, was
+ever shown, tho it were to a hundred people, that they did not all
+immediately agree that it was beautiful, tho some might have thought
+that it fell short of their expectation, or that other things were
+still finer. I believe no man thinks a goose to be more beautiful than
+a swan, or imagines that what they call a Friesland hen excels a
+peacock. It must be observed, too, that the pleasures of the sight are
+not nearly so complicated and confused and altered by unnatural habits
+and associations as the pleasures of the taste are; because the
+pleasures of the sight more commonly acquiesce in themselves, and are
+not so often altered by conditions which are independent of the sight
+itself.
+
+But things do not spontaneously present themselves to the palate as
+they do to the sight; they are generally applied to it, either as food
+or as medicine; and from the qualities which they possess for
+nutritive or medicinal purposes, they often form the palate by
+degrees, and by force of these associations. Thus opium is pleasing to
+Turks on account of the agreeable delirium it produces. Tobacco is the
+delight of Dutchmen, as it diffuses a torpor and pleasing
+stupefaction. Fermented spirits please our common people, because they
+banish care and all consideration of future or present evils. All of
+these would lie absolutely neglected if their properties had
+originally gone no further than the taste; but all these, together
+with tea and coffee, and some other things, have passed from the
+apothecary's shop to our tables, and were taken for health long before
+they were thought of for pleasure. The effect of the drug has made us
+use it frequently; and frequent use, combined with the agreeable
+effect, has made the taste itself at last agreeable. But this does not
+in the least perplex our reasoning, because we distinguish to the last
+the acquired from the natural relish. In describing the taste of an
+unknown fruit, you would scarcely say that it had a sweet and pleasant
+flavor like tobacco, opium, or garlic, altho you spoke to those who
+were in the constant use of these drugs, and had great pleasure in
+them.
+
+There is in all men a sufficient remembrance of the original natural
+causes of pleasure to enable them to bring all things offered to their
+senses to that standard, and to regulate their feelings and opinions
+by it. Suppose one who had so vitiated his palate as to take more
+pleasure in the taste of opium than in that of butter or honey to be
+presented with a bolus of squills; there is hardly any doubt but that
+he would prefer the butter or honey to this nauseous morsel, or to any
+other bitter drug to which he had not been accustomed; which proves
+that his palate was naturally like that of other men in all things,
+that it is still like the palate of other men in many things, and only
+vitiated in some particular points. For in judging of any new thing,
+even of a taste similar to that which he has been formed by habit to
+like, he finds his palate affected in the natural manner and on the
+common principles. Thus the pleasure of all senses, of the sight, and
+even of the taste, that most ambiguous of the senses, is the same in
+all, high and low, learned and unlearned.
+
+Besides the ideas, with their annexed pains and pleasures, which are
+presented by the sense the mind of man possesses a sort of creative
+power of its own; either in representing at pleasure the images of
+things in the order and manner in which they were received by the
+senses, or in combining those images in a new manner, and according to
+a different order. This power is called imagination; and to this
+belongs whatever is called wit, fancy, invention, and the like. But it
+must be observed that the power of the imagination is incapable of
+producing anything absolutely new; it can only vary the disposition of
+those ideas which it has received from the senses. Now the imagination
+is the most extensive province of pleasure and pain, as it is the
+region of our fears and our hopes, and of all our passions that are
+connected with them; and whatever is calculated to affect the
+imagination with these commanding ideas, by force of any original
+natural impression, must have the same power pretty equally over all
+men. For since the imagination is only the representation of the
+senses, it can only be pleased or displeased with the images, from the
+same principle on which the sense is pleased or displeased with the
+realities; and consequently there must be just as close an agreement
+in the imaginations as in the senses of men. A little attention will
+convince us that this must of necessity be the case.
+
+But in the imaginations, besides the pain or pleasure arising from the
+properties of the natural object, a pleasure is perceived from the
+resemblance which the imitation has to the original; the imagination,
+I conceive, can have no pleasure but what results from one or other of
+these causes. And these causes operate pretty uniformly upon all men,
+because they operate by principles in nature, and which are not
+derived from any particular habits or advantages. Mr. Locke very
+justly and finely observes of wit that it is chiefly conversant in
+tracing resemblances; he remarks at the same time that the business of
+judgment is rather in finding differences. It may perhaps appear, on
+this supposition, that there is no material distinction between the
+wit and the judgment, as they both seem to result from different
+operations of the same faculty of comparing.
+
+But in reality, whether they are or are not dependent on the same
+power of the mind, they differ so very materially in many respects
+that a perfect union of wit and judgment is one of the rarest things
+in the world. When two distinct objects are unlike to each other, it
+is only what we expect; things are in their common way, and therefore
+they make no impression on the imagination; but when two distinct
+objects have a resemblance, we are struck, we attend to them, and we
+are pleased. The mind of man has naturally a far greater alacrity and
+satisfaction in tracing resemblances than in searching for
+differences; because by making resemblances we produce new images; we
+unite, we create, we enlarge our stock: but in making distinctions we
+offer no food at all to the imagination; the task itself is more
+severe and irksome, and what pleasure we derive from it is something
+of a negative and indirect nature. A piece of news is told me in the
+morning; this, merely as a piece of news, as a fact added to my stock,
+gives me some pleasure. In the evening I find there was nothing in it.
+What do I gain by this but the dissatisfaction to find that I had been
+imposed upon?
+
+Hence it is that men are much more naturally inclined to belief than
+to incredulity. And it is upon this principle that the most ignorant
+and barbarous nations have frequently excelled in similitudes,
+comparisons, metaphors, and allegories, who have been weak and
+backward in distinguishing and sorting their ideas. And it is for a
+reason of this kind that Homer and the Oriental writers, tho very fond
+of similitudes, and tho they often strike out such as are truly
+admirable, seldom take care to have them exact; that is, they are
+taken with the general resemblance, they paint it strongly, and they
+take no notice of the difference which may be found between the
+things compared.
+
+Now, as the pleasure of resemblance is that which principally flatters
+the imagination, all men are nearly equal in this point, as far as
+their knowledge of the things represented or compared extends. The
+principle of this knowledge is very much accidental, as it depends
+upon experience and observation, and not on the strength or weakness
+of any natural faculty; and it is from this difference in knowledge
+that what we commonly, tho with no great exactness, call a difference
+in taste proceeds. A man to whom sculpture is new sees a barber's
+block, or some ordinary piece of statuary; he is immediately struck
+and pleased, because he sees something like a human figure; and,
+entirely taken up with this likeness, he does not at all attend to its
+defects. No person, I believe, at the first time of seeing a piece of
+imitation ever did. Some time after, we suppose that this novice
+lights upon a more artificial work of the same nature; he now begins
+to look with contempt on what he admired at first; not that he admired
+it even then for its unlikeness to a man, but for that general tho
+inaccurate resemblance which it bore to the human figure. What he
+admired at different times in these so different figures is strictly
+the same; and tho his knowledge is improved, his taste is not altered.
+Hitherto his mistake was from a want of knowledge in art, and this
+arose from his inexperience; but he may be still deficient from a want
+of knowledge in nature. For it is possible that the man in question
+may stop here, and that the masterpiece of a great hand may please
+him no more than the middling performance of a vulgar artist; and this
+not for want of better or higher relish, but because all men do not
+observe with sufficient accuracy on the human figure to enable them to
+judge properly of an imitation of it.
+
+And that the critical taste does not depend upon a superior principle
+in men, but upon superior knowledge, may appear from several
+instances. The story of the ancient painter and the shoemaker is very
+well known. The shoemaker set the painter right with regard to some
+mistakes he had made in the shoe of one of his figures, and which the
+painter, who had not made such accurate observations on shoes, and was
+content with a general resemblance, had never observed. But this was
+no impeachment to the taste of the painter; it only showed some want
+of knowledge in the art of making shoes. Let us imagine that an
+anatomist had come into the painter's working-room. His piece is in
+general well done, the figure in question in a good attitude, and the
+parts well adjusted to their various movements; yet the anatomist,
+critical in his art, may observe the swell of some muscle not quite
+just in the peculiar action of the figure. Here the anatomist observes
+what the painter had not observed; and he passes by what the shoemaker
+had remarked.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE LETTER TO A NOBLE LORD[55]
+
+
+I was not, like his Grace of Bedford, swaddled, and rocked, and
+dandled into a legislator--_Nitor in adversum_ is the motto for a man
+like me. I possest not one of the qualities, nor cultivated one of the
+arts, that recommend men to the favor and protection of the great. I
+was not made for a minion or a tool. As little did I follow the trade
+of winning the hearts by imposing on the understanding of the people.
+At every step of my progress in life--for in every step was I
+traversed and opposed--and at every turnpike I met, I was obliged to
+shew my passport, and again and again to prove my sole title to the
+honor of being useful to my country by a proof that I was not wholly
+unacquainted with its laws, and the whole system of its interests both
+abroad and at home. Otherwise, no rank, no toleration even for me. I
+had no arts but manly arts. On them I have stood, and, please God, in
+spite of the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Lauderdale, to the last
+gasp will I stand....
+
+I know not how it has happened, but it really seems that, while his
+Grace was meditating his well-considered censure upon me, he fell into
+a sort of sleep. Homer nods, and the Duke of Bedford may dream; and as
+dreams--even his golden dreams--are apt to be ill-pieced and
+incongruously put together, his Grace preserved his idea of reproach
+to me, but took the subject-matter from the crown-grants to his own
+family. This is "the stuff of which his dreams are made." In that way
+of putting things together, his Grace is perfectly in the right. The
+grants to the house of Russell were so enormous as not only to outrage
+economy, but even to stagger credibility. The Duke of Bedford is the
+leviathan among all the creatures of the crown. He tumbles about his
+unwieldy bulk; he plays and frolics in the ocean of the royal bounty.
+Huge as he is, and while "he lies floating many a rood," he is still a
+creature. His ribs, his fins, his whalebone, his blubber, the very
+spiracles through which he spouts a torrent of brine against his
+origin, and covers me all over with the spray--everything of him and
+about him is from the throne. Is it for _him_ to question the
+dispensation of the royal favor?
+
+I really am at a loss to draw any sort of parallel between the public
+merits of his Grace, by which he justifies the grants he holds, and
+these services of mine, on the favorable construction of which I have
+obtained what his Grace so much disapproves. In private life, I have
+not at all the honor of acquaintance with the noble Duke. But I ought
+to presume, and it costs me nothing to do so, that he abundantly
+deserves the esteem and love of all who live with him. But as to
+public service, why, truly, it would not be more ridiculous for me to
+compare myself in rank, in fortune, in splendid descent, in youth,
+strength, or figure, with the Duke of Bedford, than to make a
+parallel between his services and my attempts to be useful to my
+country. It would not be gross adulation, but uncivil irony, to say
+that he has any public merit of his own, to keep alive the idea of the
+services by which his vast landed pensions were obtained. My merits,
+whatever they are, are original and personal; his are derivative. It
+is his ancestor, the original pensioner, that has laid up this
+inexhaustible fund of merit, which makes his Grace so very delicate
+and exceptious about the merit of all other grantees of the crown. Had
+he permitted me to remain in quiet, I should have said: "'Tis his
+estate; that's enough. It is his by law; what have I to do with it or
+its history?" He would naturally have said on his side: "'Tis this
+man's fortune. He is as good now as my ancestor was two hundred and
+fifty years ago. I am a young man with very old pensions: he is an old
+man with very young pensions--that's all."
+
+Why will his Grace, by attacking me, force me reluctantly to compare
+my little merit with that which obtained from the crown those
+prodigies of profuse donation by which he tramples on the mediocrity
+of humble and laborious individuals?... Since the new grantees have
+war made on them by the old, and that the word of the sovereign is not
+to be taken, let us turn our eyes to history, in which great men have
+always a pleasure in contemplating the heroic origin of their house.
+
+The first peer of the name, the first purchaser of the grants, was a
+Mr. Russell, a person of an ancient gentleman's family, raised by
+being a minion of Henry VIII. As there generally is some resemblance
+of character to create these relations, the favorite was in all
+likelihood much such another as his master. The first of those
+immoderate grants was not taken from the ancient demesne of the crown,
+but from the recent confiscation of the ancient nobility of the land.
+The lion having sucked the blood of his prey, threw the offal carcass
+to the jackal in waiting. Having tasted once the food of confiscation,
+the favorites became fierce and ravenous. This worthy favorite's first
+grant was from the lay nobility. The second, infinitely improving on
+the enormity of the first, was from the plunder of the church. In
+truth, his Grace is somewhat excusable for his dislike to a grant like
+mine, not only in its quantity, but in its kind, so different from his
+own.
+
+Mine was from a mild and benevolent sovereign; his, from Henry VIII.
+Mine had not its fund in the murder of any innocent person of
+illustrious rank, or in the pillage of any body of unoffending men;
+his grants were from the aggregate and consolidated funds of judgments
+iniquitously legal, and from possessions voluntarily surrendered by
+the lawful proprietors with the gibbet at their door.
+
+The merit of the grantee whom he derives from was that of being a
+prompt and greedy instrument of a leveling tyrant, who opprest all
+descriptions of his people, but who fell with particular fury on
+everything that was great and noble. Mine has been in endeavoring to
+screen every man, in every class, from oppression, and particularly in
+defending the high and eminent, who in the bad times of confiscating
+princes, confiscating chief-governors, or confiscating demagogs, are
+the most exposed to jealousy, avarice, and envy.
+
+The merit of the original grantee of his Grace's pensions was in
+giving his hand to the work, and partaking the spoil with a prince who
+plundered a part of the national church of his time and country. Mine
+was in defending the whole of the national church of my own time and
+my own country, and the whole of the national churches of all
+countries, from the principles and the examples which lead to
+ecclesiastical pillage, thence to a contempt of all prescriptive
+titles, thence to the pillage of all property, and thence to universal
+desolation.
+
+The merit of the origin of his Grace's fortune was in being a favorite
+and chief adviser to a prince who left no liberty to his native
+country. My endeavor was to obtain liberty for the municipal country
+in which I was born, and for all descriptions and denominations in it.
+Mine was to support, with unrelaxing vigilance, every right, every
+privilege, every franchise, in this my adopted, my dearer, and more
+comprehensive country; and not only to preserve those rights in this
+chief seat of empire, but in every nation, in every land, in every
+climate, language, and religion in the vast domain that still is under
+the protection, and the larger that was once under the protection, of
+the British crown.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON[56]
+
+
+Had it pleased God to continue to me the hopes of succession, I should
+have been, according to my mediocrity, and the mediocrity of the age I
+live in, a sort of founder of a family; I should have left a son, who,
+in all the points in which personal merit can be viewed, in science,
+in erudition, in genius, in taste, in honor, in generosity, in
+humanity, in every liberal sentiment and every liberal accomplishment,
+would not have shewn himself inferior to the Duke of Bedford, or to
+any of those whom he traces in his line. His Grace very soon would
+have wanted all plausibility in his attack upon that provision which
+belonged more to mine than to me. He would soon have supplied every
+deficiency, and symmetrized every disproportion. It would not have
+been for that successor to resort to any stagnant wasting reservoir of
+merit in me, or in any ancestry. He had in himself a salient living
+spring of generous and manly action. Every day he lived, he would have
+repurchased the bounty of the crown, and ten times more, if ten times
+more he had received. He was made a public creature, and had no
+enjoyment whatever but in the performance of some duty. At this
+exigent moment the loss of a finished man is not easily supplied.
+
+But a Disposer, whose power we are little able to resist, and whose
+wisdom it behooves us not at all to dispute, has ordained it in
+another manner, and--whatever my querulous weakness might suggest--a
+far better. The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those
+old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stript
+of all my honors; I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the
+earth! There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the
+divine justice, and in some degree submit to it. But while I humble
+myself before God, I do not know that it is forbidden to repel the
+attacks of unjust and inconsiderate men. The patience of Job is
+proverbial. After some of the convulsive struggles of our irritable
+nature, he submitted himself, and repented in dust and ashes. But even
+so, I do not find him blamed for reprehending, and with a considerable
+degree of verbal asperity, those ill-natured neighbors of his who
+visited his dunghill to read moral, political, and economical lectures
+on his misery. I am alone. I have none to meet my enemies in the gate.
+Indeed, my lord, I greatly deceive myself, if in this hard season I
+would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is called fame and
+honor in the world. This is the appetite but of a few. It is a luxury;
+it is a privilege; it is an indulgence for those who are at their
+ease. But we are all of us made to shun disgrace, as we are made to
+shrink from pain, and poverty, and disease. It is an instinct; and
+under the direction of reason, instinct is always in the right. I live
+in an inverted order. They who ought to have succeeded me are gone
+before me; they who should have been to me as posterity are in the
+place of ancestors. I owe to the dearest relation--which ever must
+subsist in memory--that act of piety which he would have performed to
+me; I owe it to him to shew, that he was not descended, as the Duke of
+Bedford would have it, from an unworthy parent.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE[57]
+
+
+I hear, and I rejoice to hear, that the great lady, the other object
+of the triumph, has borne that day (one is interested that beings made
+for suffering should suffer well) and that she bears all the
+succeeding days, that she bears the imprisonment of her husband, and
+her own captivity, and the exile of her friends, and the insulting
+adulation of addresses, and the whole weight of her accumulated
+wrongs, with a serene patience, in a manner suited to her rank and
+race, and becoming the offspring of a sovereign distinguished for her
+piety and her courage; that like her she has lofty sentiments; that
+she feels with the dignity of a Roman matron; that in the last
+extremity she will save herself from the last disgrace, and that if
+she must fall, she will fall by no ignoble hand.
+
+It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France,
+then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this
+orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw
+her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated
+sphere she just began to move in--glittering like the morning star,
+full of life, and splendor, and joy. Oh! what a revolution! and what a
+heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and
+that fall! Little did I dream when she added titles of veneration to
+those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever
+be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in
+that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such
+disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of
+men of honor and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have
+leapt from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her
+with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters,
+economists, and calculators has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is
+extinguished forever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous
+loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified
+obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in
+servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace
+of life, the cheap defense of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment
+and heroic enterprise is gone! It is gone, that sensibility of
+principle, that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound,
+which inspired courage while it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled
+whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil by
+losing all its grossness.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 54: From "The Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and
+Beautiful."]
+
+[Footnote 55: Written in 1796. The occasion for this celebrated letter
+was an attack on Burke by the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of
+Lauderdale in connection with his pension. The attacks were made from
+their places in the House of Lords.]
+
+[Footnote 56: Burke's son was Richard Burke, who died on August 2,
+1790. He was 32 years of age. The blow shattered Burke's ambition. He
+himself died in 1797. One other son, Christopher, had been horn to
+Burke, but he died in childhood. Burke's domestic life was otherwise
+exceptionally happy. He was noted among his contemporaries for his
+"orderly and amiable domestic habits."]
+
+[Footnote 57: From the "Reflections on the Revolution in France."]
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM COWPER
+
+     Born in 1731, died in 1800; son of a clergyman; educated at
+     Westminster School; admitted to the bar in 1754, but
+     melancholia unfitted him for practise; temporarily confined
+     in an asylum in 1763; afterward lived in private families,
+     being subject to repeated attacks of mental disorder tending
+     to suicide, ending in permanent insanity; published "The
+     Task" in 1785, a translation of Homer in 1791.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF KEEPING ONE'S SELF EMPLOYED[58]
+
+
+I have neither long visits to pay nor to receive, nor ladies to spend
+hours in telling me that which might be told in five minutes; yet
+often find myself obliged to be an economist of time, and to make the
+most of a short opportunity. Let our station be as retired as it may,
+there is no want of playthings and avocations, nor much need to seek
+them, in this world of ours. Business, or what presents itself to us
+under that imposing character, will find us out even in the stillest
+retreat, and plead its importance, however trivial in reality, as a
+just demand upon our attention.
+
+It is wonderful how by means of such real or seeming necessities my
+time is stolen away. I have just time to observe that time is short,
+and by the time I have made the observation time is gone.
+
+I have wondered in former days at the patience of the antediluvian
+world, that they could endure a life almost millenary, and with so
+little variety as seems to have fallen to their share. It is probable
+that they had much fewer employments than we. Their affairs lay in a
+narrower compass; their libraries were indifferently furnished;
+philosophical researches were carried on with much less industry and
+acuteness of penetration, and fiddles perhaps were not even invented.
+How then could seven or eight hundred years of life be supported? I
+have asked this question formerly, and been at a loss to resolve it;
+but I think I can answer it now. I will suppose myself born a thousand
+years before Noah was born or thought of. I rise with the sun; I
+worship; I prepare my breakfast; I swallow a bucket of goat's milk and
+a dozen good sizable cakes. I fasten a new string to my bow, and my
+youngest boy, a lad of about thirty years of age, having played with
+my arrows till he has stript off all the feathers, I find myself
+obliged to repair them. The morning is thus spent in preparing for the
+chase, and it is become necessary that I should dine. I dig up my
+roots; I wash them; boil them; I find them not done enough, I boil
+them again; my wife is angry; we dispute; we settle the point; but in
+the mean time the fire goes out, and must be kindled again. All this
+is very amusing.
+
+I hunt; I bring home the prey; with the skin of it I mend an old coat,
+or I make a new one. By this time the day is far spent; I feel myself
+fatigued, and retire to rest. Thus, what with tilling the ground and
+eating the fruit of it, hunting, and walking, and running, and
+mending old clothes, and sleeping and rising again, I can suppose an
+inhabitant of the primeval world so much occupied as to sigh over the
+shortness of life, and to find, at the end of many centuries, that
+they had all slipt through his fingers and were passing away like a
+shadow. What wonder then that I, who live in a day of so much greater
+refinement, when there is so much more to be wanted and wished, and to
+be enjoyed, should feel myself now and then pinched in point of
+opportunity, and at some loss for leisure to fill four sides of a
+sheet like this?
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+ON JOHNSON'S TREATMENT OF MILTON[59]
+
+
+I have been well entertained with Johnson's biography, for which I
+thank you: with one exception, and that a swinging one, I think he has
+acquitted himself with his usual good sense and sufficiency. His
+treatment of Milton is unmerciful to the last degree. A pensioner is
+not likely to spare a republican, and the Doctor, in order, I suppose,
+to convince his royal patron of the sincerity of his monarchical
+principles, has belabored that great poet's character with the most
+industrious cruelty. As a man, he has hardly left him the shadow of
+one good quality. Churlishness in his private life, and a rancorous
+hatred of everything royal in his public, are the two colors with
+which he has smeared all the canvas. If he had any virtues, they are
+not to be found in the Doctor's picture of him, and it is well for
+Milton that some sourness in his temper is the only vice with which
+his memory has been charged; it is evident enough that if his
+biographer could have discovered more, he would not have spared him.
+
+As a poet, he has treated him with severity enough, and has plucked
+one or two of the most beautiful feathers out of his Muse's wing, and
+trampled them under his great foot. He has passed sentence of
+condemnation upon Lycidas, and has taken occasion, from that charming
+poem, to expose and ridicule (what is indeed ridiculous enough) the
+childish prattlement of pastoral compositions, as if Lycidas was the
+prototype and pattern of them all. The liveliness of the descriptions,
+the sweetness of the numbers, the classical spirit of antiquity that
+prevails in it, go for nothing. I am convinced, by the way, that he
+has no ear for poetical numbers, or that it was stopt by prejudice
+against the harmony of Milton's. Was there ever anything so delightful
+as the music of the Paradise Lost? It is like that of a fine organ;
+has the fullest and the deepest tones of majesty with all the softness
+and elegance of the Dorian flute: variety without end, and never
+equaled, unless perhaps by Virgil. Yet the Doctor has little or
+nothing to say upon this copious theme, but talks something about the
+unfitness of the English language for blank verse, and how apt it is,
+in the mouths of some readers, to degenerate into declamation. Oh! I
+could thrash his old jacket till I made his pension jingle in his
+pockets.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS BOOKS[60]
+
+
+In the press, and speedily will be published, in one volume octavo,
+price three shillings, Poems,[61] by William Cowper, of the Inner
+Temple, Esq. You may suppose, by the size of the publication, that the
+greatest part of them have never been long kept secret, because you
+yourself have never seen them; but the truth is, that they are most of
+them, except what you have in your possession, the produce of the last
+winter. Two-thirds of the compilation will be occupied by four pieces,
+the first of which sprung up in the month of December, and the last of
+them in the month of March. They contain, I suppose, in all about two
+thousand and five hundred lines; are known, or are to be known in due
+time, by the names of Table-Talk, The Progress of Error, Truth,
+Expostulation. Mr. Newton writes a preface, and Johnson is the
+publisher. The principal, I may say the only reason why I never
+mentioned to you, till now, an affair which I am just going to make
+known to all the world (if that Mr. All-the-world should think it
+worth his knowing) has been this--that, till within these few days, I
+had not the honor to know it myself. This may seem strange, but it is
+true; for, not knowing where to find underwriters who would choose to
+insure them, and not finding it convenient to a purse like mine to run
+any hazard, even upon the credit of my own ingenuity, I was very much
+in doubt for some weeks whether any bookseller would be willing to
+subject himself to an ambiguity that might prove very expensive in
+case of a bad market. But Johnson has heroically set all peradventures
+at defiance, and takes the whole charge upon himself. So out I come. I
+shall be glad of my Translations from Vincent Bourne in your next
+frank. My muse will lay herself at your feet immediately on her first
+public appearance....
+
+If[62] a writer's friends have need of patience, how much more the
+writer! Your desire to see my muse in public, and mine to gratify you,
+must both suffer the mortification of delay. I expected that my
+trumpeter would have informed the world by this time of all that is
+needful for them to know upon such an occasion; and that an
+advertising blast, blown through every newspaper, would have said,
+"The poet is coming." But man, especially man that writes verse, is
+born to disappointments, as surely as printers and booksellers are
+born to be the most dilatory and tedious of all creatures. The plain
+English of this magnificent preamble is, that the season of
+publication is just elapsed, that the town is going into the country
+every day, and that my book can not appear till they return--that is
+to say, not till next winter. This misfortune, however, comes not
+without its attendant advantage: I shall now have, what I should not
+otherwise have had, an opportunity to correct the press myself; no
+small advantage upon any occasion, but especially important where
+poetry is concerned! A single erratum may knock out the brains of a
+whole passage, and that perhaps which, of all others, the unfortunate
+poet is the most proud of. Add to this, that now and then there is to
+be found in a printing-house a presumptuous intermeddler, who will
+fancy himself a poet too, and what is still worse, a better than he
+that employs him. The consequence is, that with cobbling, and
+tinkering, and patching on here and there a shred of his own, he makes
+such a difference between the original and the copy, that an author
+can not know his own work again. Now, as I choose to be responsible
+for nobody's dulness but my own, I am a little comforted when I
+reflect that it will be in my power to prevent all such impertinence;
+and yet not without your assistance. It will be quite necessary that
+the correspondence between me and Johnson should be carried on without
+the expense of postage, because proof-sheets would make double or
+treble letters, which expense, as in every instance it must occur
+twice, first when the packet is sent, and again when it is returned,
+would be rather inconvenient to me, who, you perceive, am forced to
+live by my wits, and to him, who hopes to get a little matter no doubt
+by the same means. Half a dozen franks therefore to me, and totidem
+to him, will be singularly acceptable, if you can, without feeling it
+in any respect a trouble, procure them for me--Johnson, Bookseller,
+St. Paul's Churchyard....
+
+The writing of so long a poem[63] is a serious business; and the
+author must know little of his own heart who does not in some degree
+suspect himself of partiality to his own production; and who is he
+that would not be mortified by the discovery that he had written five
+thousand lines in vain? The poem, however, which you have in hand will
+not of itself make a volume so large as the last, or as a bookseller
+would wish. I say this, because when I had sent Johnson five thousand
+verses, he applied for a thousand more. Two years since I began a
+piece which grew to the length of two hundred, and there stopt. I have
+lately resumed it, and I believe, shall finish it. But the subject is
+fruitful and will not be comprized in a smaller compass than seven or
+eight hundred verses. It turns on the question whether an education at
+school or at home be preferable, and I shall give the preference to
+the latter. I mean that it shall pursue the track of the former--that
+is to say, it shall visit Stock in its way to publication. My design
+also is to inscribe it to you. But you must see it first; and if,
+after having seen it, you should have any objection, tho it should be
+no bigger than the tittle of an i, I will deny myself that pleasure,
+and find no fault with your refusal.
+
+I have not been without thoughts of adding
+
+"John Gilpin" at the tail of all. He has made a good deal of noise in
+the world, and perhaps it may not be amiss to show, that, tho I write
+generally with a serious intention, I know how to be occasionally
+merry. The critical reviewers charged me with an attempt at humor.
+John having been more celebrated upon the score of humor than most
+pieces that have appeared in modern days, may serve to exonerate me
+from the imputation; but in this article I am entirely under your
+judgment, and mean to be set down by it. All these together will make
+an octavo like the last. I should have told you that the piece which
+now employs me is rime. I do not intend to write any more blank. It is
+more difficult than rime, and not so amusing in the composition. If,
+when you make the offer of my book to Johnson, he should stroke his
+chin, and look up to the ceiling and cry "Humph!"--anticipate him, I
+beseech you, at once, by saying--"that you know I should be sorry that
+he should undertake for me to his own disadvantage, or that my volume
+should be in any degree prest upon him. I make him the offer merely
+because I think he would have reason to complain of me if I did not."
+But that punctilio once satisfied, it is a matter of indifference to
+me what publisher sends me forth.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 58: Letter to the Rev. John Newton, dated Olney, November
+30, 1783.]
+
+[Footnote 59: Letter to the Rev. William Unwin, dated "October 31,
+1779."]
+
+[Footnote 60: Letter to the Rev. William Unwin, dated "Olney, May 1,
+1781."]
+
+[Footnote 61: His first volume of verse.]
+
+[Footnote 62: This paragraph is from another letter to Unwin, written
+three weeks later--May 23, 1781.]
+
+[Footnote 63: This letter, addrest to Unwin, and dated "October 30,
+1784," refers to Cowper's poem "The Task."]
+
+
+
+
+EDWARD GIBBON
+
+     Born in 1737, died in 1794; educated at Oxford, but was not
+     graduated; became a Catholic, but soon renounced that faith;
+     sent by his father to Lausanne, Switzerland, for instruction
+     by a Calvinist minister in 1753; there met and fell in love
+     with, but did not marry, Susanne Curchod; served in the
+     militia, becoming a colonel in 1759-70; traveled in France
+     and Italy in 1763-65; elected to Parliament in 1764; settled
+     permanently in Lausanne in 1783; published the first volume
+     of his "Decline and Fall" in 1776, and the last in 1778;
+     wrote also "Memoirs of My Life and Writings."
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE ROMANCE OF HIS YOUTH[64]
+
+
+I hesitate, from the apprehension of ridicule, when I approach the
+delicate subject of my early love. By this word I do not mean the
+polite attention, the gallantry, without hope or design, which has
+originated in the spirit of chivalry and is interwoven with the
+texture of French manners. I understand by this passion the union of
+desire, friendship and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single
+female, which prefers her to the rest of her sex, and which seeks her
+possession as the supreme or the sole happiness of our being. I need
+not blush at recollecting the object of my choice; and tho 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 Susan Curchod were
+embellished by the virtues and talents of the mind. Her fortune was
+humble, but her family was respectable. Her mother, a native of
+France, had preferred her religion to her country. The profession of
+her father did not extinguish the moderation and philosophy of his
+temper, and he lived content, with a small salary and laborious duty,
+in the obscure lot of minister of Crassy, in the mountains that
+separate the Pays de Vaud from the county of Burgundy. In the solitude
+of a sequestered village he bestowed a liberal and even learned
+education on his only daughter. She surpassed his hopes by her
+proficiency in the sciences and languages; and in her short visits to
+some relations at Lausanne, the wit, the beauty and erudition of
+Mademoiselle Curchod were the theme of universal applause.
+
+The report of such a prodigy awakened my curiosity; I saw and loved. I
+found her learned without pedantry, lively in conversation, pure in
+sentiment, and elegant in manners; and the first sudden emotion was
+fortified by the habits and knowledge of a more familiar acquaintance.
+She permitted me to make her two or three visits at her father's
+house. I passed some happy days there, in the mountains of Burgundy,
+and her parents honorably encouraged the connection. In a calm
+retirement the gay vanity of youth no longer fluttered in her bosom;
+she listened to the voice of truth and passion; and I might presume to
+hope that I had made some impression on a virtuous heart. At Crassy
+and Lausanne I indulged my dream of felicity: but on my return to
+England, I soon discovered that my father would not hear of this
+strange alliance, and that without his consent I was myself destitute
+and helpless. After a painful struggle I yielded to my fate: 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. My cure was accelerated by a
+faithful report of the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the lady
+herself; and my love subsided in friendship and esteem.
+
+The minister of Crassy soon afterward died; his stipend died with him;
+his daughter retired to Geneva, where, by teaching young ladies, she
+earned a hard subsistence for herself and her mother; but in her
+lowest distress she maintained a spotless reputation, and a dignified
+behavior. A rich banker of Paris, a citizen of Geneva, had the good
+fortune and good sense to discover and possess this inestimable
+treasure; and in the capital of taste and luxury she resisted the
+temptations of wealth, as she had sustained the hardships of
+indigence. The genius of her husband has exalted him to the most
+conspicuous station in Europe. In every change of prosperity and
+disgrace he has reclined on the bosom of a faithful friend; and
+Mademoiselle Curchod is now the wife of M. Necker,[65] the minister,
+and perhaps the legislator, of the French monarchy.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE INCEPTION AND COMPLETION OF HIS "DECLINE AND FALL"[66]
+
+
+It was at Rome, on the 15th of October, 1764, as I sat musing amidst
+the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted 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 of the empire:
+and, tho my reading and reflections began to point toward that object,
+some years elapsed, and several avocations intervened, before I was
+seriously engaged in the execution of that laborious work....
+
+I have presumed to mark the moment of conception: I shall now
+commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. It was on the day, or
+rather night, of the 27th of June, 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 berceau, or 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 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 old and agreeable companion, and that
+whatsoever might be the future date of my history, the life of the
+historian must be short and precarious.
+
+I will add two facts which have seldom occurred in the composition of
+six, or at least of five, quartos. 1. My first rough manuscript,
+without any intermediate copy, has been sent to the press. 2. Not a
+sheet has been seen by any human eyes excepting those of the author
+and the printer: the faults and the merits are exclusively my own.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE FALL OF ZENOBIA[67]
+
+(271 A.D.)
+
+
+Aurelian had no sooner secured the person and provinces of Tetricus,
+than he turned his arms against Zenobia, the celebrated queen of
+Palmyra[68] and the East. Modern Europe has produced several
+illustrious women who have sustained with glory the weight of empire;
+nor is our own age destitute of such distinguished characters.
+
+But if we except the doubtful achievements of Semiramis, Zenobia is
+perhaps the only female whose superior genius broke through the
+servile indolence imposed on her sex by the climate and manners of
+Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of Egypt,
+equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that
+princess in chastity and valor.
+
+Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her
+sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in speaking of a lady these
+trifles become important). Her teeth were of a pearly whiteness, and
+her large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire, tempered by the most
+attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly
+understanding was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not
+ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possest in equal perfection the
+Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for
+her own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared
+the beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of the sublime
+Longinus.
+
+This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who, from a
+private station, raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon
+became the friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war,
+Odenathus passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting; he
+pursued with ardor the wild beasts of the desert--lions, panthers, and
+bears; and the ardor of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not
+inferior to his own. She had inured her constitution to fatigue,
+disdained the use of a covered carriage, generally appeared on
+horseback in a military habit, and sometimes marched several miles on
+foot at the head of the troops. The success of Odenathus was in a
+great measure ascribed to her incomparable prudence and fortitude.
+Their splendid victories over the Great King, whom they twice pursued
+as far as the gates of Ctesiphon,[69] laid the foundations of their
+united fame and power. The armies which they commanded, and the
+provinces which they had saved, acknowledged not any other sovereigns
+than their invincible chiefs. The Senate and people of Rome revered a
+stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, and even the
+insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his legitimate
+colleague....
+
+When Aurelian passed over into Asia against an adversary whose sex
+alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored
+obedience to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arms and
+intrigues of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he
+accepted the submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana, after
+an obstinate siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. The generous
+tho fierce temper of Aurelian abandoned the traitor to the rage of the
+soldiers: a superstitious reverence induced him to treat with lenity
+the countrymen of Apollonius the philosopher. Antioch was deserted on
+his approach, till the Emperor, by his salutary edicts, recalled the
+fugitives, and granted a general pardon to all who from necessity
+rather than choice had been engaged in the service of the Palmyrenian
+Queen. The unexpected mildness of such a conduct reconciled the minds
+of the Syrians, and as far as the gates of Emesa the wishes of the
+people seconded the terror of his arms.
+
+Zenobia would have ill deserved her reputation, had she indolently
+permitted the Emperor of the West to approach within a hundred miles
+of her capital. The fate of the East was decided in two great battles,
+so similar in almost every circumstance that we can scarcely
+distinguish them from each other, except by observing that the first
+was fought near Antioch and the second near Emesa. In both the Queen
+of Palmyra animated the armies by her presence, and devolved the
+execution of her orders on Zabdas, who had already signalized his
+military talents by the conquest of Egypt. The numerous forces of
+Zenobia consisted for the most part of light archers, and of heavy
+cavalry clothed in complete steel. The Moorish and Illyrian horse of
+Aurelian were unable to sustain the ponderous charge of their
+antagonists. They fled in real or affected disorder, engaged the
+Palmyrenians in a laborious pursuit, harassed them by a desultory
+combat, and at length discomfited this impenetrable but unwieldy body
+of cavalry. The light infantry, in the mean time, when they had
+exhausted their quivers, remaining without protection against a closer
+onset, exposed their naked sides to the swords of the legions.
+Aurelian had chosen these veteran troops, who were usually stationed
+on the Upper Danube, and whose valor had been severely tried in the
+Alemannic war. After the defeat of Emesa, Zenobia found it impossible
+to collect a third army. As far as the frontier of Egypt, the nations
+subject to her empire had joined the standard of the conqueror, who
+detached Probus, the bravest of his generals, to possess himself of
+the Egyptian provinces. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of
+Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every
+preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared, with the
+intrepidity of a heroine, that the last moment of her reign and of her
+life should be the same.
+
+Amid the barren deserts of Arabia, a few cultivated spots rise like
+islands out of the sandy ocean. Even the name of Tadmor, or Palmyra,
+by its signification in the Syriac as well as in the Latin language,
+denoted the multitude of palm-trees which afforded shade and verdure
+to that temperate region. The air was pure, and the soil, watered by
+some invaluable springs, was capable of producing fruits as well as
+corn. A place possest of such singular advantages, and situated at a
+convenient distance between the Gulf of Persia and the Mediterranean,
+was soon frequented by the caravans which conveyed to the nations of
+Europe a considerable part of the rich commodities of India. Palmyra
+insensibly increased into an opulent and independent city, and
+connecting the Roman and the Parthian monarchies by the mutual
+benefits of commerce was suffered to observe a humble neutrality, till
+at length after the victories of Trajan the little republic sunk into
+the bosom of Rome, and flourished more than one hundred and fifty
+years in the subordinate tho honorable rank of a colony. It was during
+that peaceful period, if we may judge from a few remaining
+inscriptions, that the wealthy Palmyrenians constructed those
+temples, palaces, and porticoes of Grecian architecture whose ruins,
+scattered over an extent of several miles, have deserved the curiosity
+of our travelers. The elevation of Odenathus and Zenobia appeared to
+reflect new splendor on their country, and Palmyra for a while stood
+forth the rival of Rome: but the competition was fatal, and ages of
+prosperity were sacrificed to a moment of glory....
+
+The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that in a very short
+time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the desert, and by
+the reasonable expectation that the kings of the East, and
+particularly the Persian monarch, would arm in the defense of their
+most natural ally. But fortune and the perseverance of Aurelian
+overcame every obstacle. The death of Sapor, which happened about this
+time, distracted the counsels of Persia, and the inconsiderable
+succors that attempted to relieve Palmyra were easily intercepted
+either by the arms or the liberality of the Emperor. From every part
+of Syria a regular succession of convoys safely arrived in the camp,
+which was increased by the return of Probus with his victorious troops
+from the conquest of Egypt. It was then that Zenobia resolved to fly.
+She mounted the fleetest of her dromedaries, and had already reached
+the banks of the Euphrates, about sixty miles from Palmyra, when she
+was overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian's light horse, seized, and
+brought back a captive to the feet of the Emperor. Her capital soon
+afterward surrendered, and was treated with unexpected lenity.
+
+When the Syrian Queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian he
+sternly asked her, How she had presumed to rise in arms against the
+emperors of Rome! The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of
+respect and firmness: "Because I disdained to consider as Roman
+emperors an Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my
+conqueror and my sovereign." But as female fortitude is commonly
+artificial, so it is seldom steady or consistent. The courage of
+Zenobia deserted her in the hour of trial; she trembled at the angry
+clamors of the soldiers, who called aloud for her immediate execution,
+forgot the generous despair of Cleopatra which she had proposed as her
+model, and ignominiously purchased life by the sacrifice of her fame
+and her friends. It was to their counsels, which governed the weakness
+of her sex, that she imputed the guilt of her obstinate resistance; it
+was on their heads that she directed the vengeance of the cruel
+Aurelian. The fame of Longinus,[70] who was included among the
+numerous and perhaps innocent victims of her fear, will survive that
+of the Queen who betrayed or the tyrant who condemned him. Genius and
+learning were incapable of moving a fierce unlettered soldier, but
+they had served to elevate and harmonize the soul of Longinus. Without
+uttering a complaint he calmly followed the executioner, pitying his
+unhappy mistress, and bestowing comfort on his afflicted friends....
+
+But, however in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals Aurelian might
+indulge his pride, he behaved toward them with a generous clemency
+which was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. Princes who
+without success had defended their throne or freedom, were frequently
+strangled in prison as soon as the triumphal pomp ascended the
+Capitol. These usurpers, whom their defeat had convicted of the crime
+of treason, were permitted to spend their lives in affluence and
+honorable repose. The Emperor presented Zenobia with an elegant villa
+at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles from the capital; the Syrian
+queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, her daughters married into
+noble families and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+ALARIC'S ENTRY INTO ROME[71]
+
+(410 A.D.)
+
+
+At the hour of midnight the Salarian gate was silently opened, and the
+inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound of the Gothic
+trumpet. Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of
+Rome, the imperial city which had subdued and civilized so
+considerable a part of mankind was delivered to the licentious fury of
+the tribes of Germany and Scythia.
+
+The proclamation of Alaric, when he forced his entrance into a
+vanquished city, discovered, however, some regard for the laws of
+humanity and religion. He encouraged his troops boldly to seize the
+rewards of valor, and to enrich themselves with the spoils of a
+wealthy and effeminate people; but he exhorted them at the same time
+to spare the lives of the unresisting citizens, and to respect the
+churches of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul as holy and inviolable
+sanctuaries. Amidst the horrors of a nocturnal tumult, several of the
+Christian Goths displayed the fervor of a recent conversion; and some
+instances of their uncommon piety and moderation are related, and
+perhaps adorned, by the zeal of ecclesiastical writers.
+
+While the Barbarians roamed through the city in quest of prey, the
+humble dwelling of an aged virgin who had devoted her life to the
+service of the altar was forced open by one of the powerful Goths. He
+immediately demanded, tho in civil language, all the gold and silver
+in her possession; and was astonished at the readiness with which she
+conducted him to a splendid hoard of massy plate of the richest
+materials and the most curious workmanship. The Barbarian viewed with
+wonder and delight this valuable acquisition, till he was interrupted
+by a serious admonition addrest to him in the following words:
+"These," said she, "are the consecrated vessels belonging to St.
+Peter; if you presume to touch them, the sacrilegious deed will remain
+on your conscience. For my part, I dare not keep what I am unable to
+defend." The Gothic captain, struck with reverential awe, dispatched a
+messenger to inform the King of the treasure which he had discovered,
+and received a peremptory order from Alaric that all the consecrated
+plate and ornaments should be transported, without damage or delay, to
+the church of the Apostle.
+
+From the extremity, perhaps, of the Quirinal hill, to the distant
+quarter of the Vatican, a numerous detachment of Goths, marching in
+order of battle through the principal streets, protected with
+glittering arms the long train of their devout companions, who bore
+aloft on their heads the sacred vessels of gold and silver; and the
+martial shouts of the Barbarians were mingled with the sound of
+religious psalmody. From all the adjacent houses a crowd of Christians
+hastened to join this edifying procession; and a multitude of
+fugitives, without distinction of age, or rank, or even of sect, had
+the good fortune to escape to the secure and hospitable sanctuary of
+the Vatican. The learned work "Concerning the City of God" was
+professedly composed by St. Augustine to justify the ways of
+Providence in the destruction of the Roman greatness. He celebrates
+with peculiar satisfaction this memorable triumph of Christ, and
+insults his adversaries by challenging them to produce some similar
+example of a town taken by storm, in which the fabulous gods of
+antiquity had been able to protect either themselves or their deluded
+votaries.
+
+In the sack of Rome, some rare and extraordinary examples of Barbarian
+virtue have been deservedly applauded. But the holy precincts of the
+Vatican and the Apostolic churches could receive a very small
+proportion of the Roman people; many thousand warriors, more
+especially of the Huns who served under the standard of Alaric, were
+strangers to the name, or at least to the faith of Christ; and we may
+suspect without any breach of charity or candor that in the hour of
+savage license, when every passion was inflamed and every restraint
+was removed, the precepts of the gospel seldom influenced the behavior
+of the Gothic Christians. The writers the best disposed to exaggerate
+their clemency have freely confest that a cruel slaughter was made of
+the Romans, and that the streets of the city were filled with dead
+bodies, which remained without burial during the general
+consternation. The despair of the citizens was sometimes converted
+into fury; and whenever the Barbarians were provoked by opposition,
+they extended the promiscuous massacre to the feeble, the innocent and
+the helpless. The private revenge of forty thousand slaves was
+exercised without pity or remorse; and the ignominious lashes which
+they had formerly received were washed away in the blood of the guilty
+or obnoxious families. The matrons and virgins of Rome were exposed to
+injuries more dreadful, in the apprehension of chastity, than death
+itself....
+
+The want of youth, or beauty, or chastity protected the greatest part
+of the Roman women from the danger of a rape. But avarice is an
+insatiate and universal passion, since the enjoyment of almost every
+object that can afford pleasure to the different tastes and tempers of
+mankind may be procured by the possession of wealth. In the pillage of
+Rome, a just preference was given to gold and jewels, which contain
+the greatest value in the smallest compass and weight; but after these
+portable riches had been removed by the more diligent robbers, the
+palaces of Rome were rudely stript of their splendid and costly
+furniture. The sideboards of massy plate, and the variegated wardrobes
+of silk and purple, were irregularly piled in the wagons that always
+followed the march of a Gothic army. The most exquisite works of art
+were roughly handled or wantonly destroyed; many a statue was melted
+for the sake of the precious materials; and many a vase, in the
+division of the spoil, was shivered into fragments by the stroke of a
+battle-ax. The acquisition of riches served only to stimulate the
+avarice of the rapacious Barbarians, who proceeded by threats, by
+blows, and by tortures to force from their prisoners the confession of
+hidden treasure. Visible splendor and expense were alleged as the
+proof of a plentiful fortune; the appearance of poverty was imputed to
+a parsimonious disposition; and the obstinacy of some misers, who
+endured the most cruel torments before they would discover the secret
+object of their affection, was fatal to many unhappy wretches, who
+expired under the lash for refusing to reveal their imaginary
+treasures.
+
+The edifices of Rome, tho the damage has been much exaggerated,
+received some injury from the violence of the Goths. At their entrance
+through the Salarian gate, they fired the adjacent houses to guide
+their march and to distract the attention of the citizens; the flames,
+which encountered no obstacle in the disorder of the night, consumed
+many private and public buildings; and the ruins of the palace of
+Sallust remained, in the age of Justinian, a stately monument of the
+Gothic conflagration. Yet a contemporary historian has observed that
+fire could scarcely consume the enormous beams of solid brass, and
+that the strength of man was insufficient to subvert the foundations
+of ancient structures. Some truth may possibly be concealed in his
+devout assertion that the wrath of Heaven supplied the imperfections
+of hostile rage, and that the proud Forum of Rome, decorated with the
+statues of so many gods and heroes, was leveled in the dust by the
+stroke of lightning.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE DEATH OF HOSEIN[72]
+
+
+Hosein served with honor against the Christians in the siege of
+Constantinople. The primogeniture of the line of Hashem, and the holy
+character of the grandson of the apostle, had centered in his person,
+and he was at liberty to prosecute his claim against Yezid, the tyrant
+of Damascus, whose vices he despised, and whose title he had never
+deigned to acknowledge. A list was secretly transmitted from Cufa to
+Medina, of one hundred and forty thousand Moslems, who profest their
+attachment to his cause, and who were eager to draw their swords so
+soon as he should appear on the banks of the Euphrates.
+
+Against the advice of his wisest friends, he resolved to trust his
+person and family in the hands of a perfidious people. He traversed
+the desert of Arabia with a timorous retinue of women and children;
+but as he approached the confines of Irak,[73] he was alarmed by the
+solitary or hostile face of the country, and suspected either the
+defection or ruin of his party. His fears were just; Obeidollah, the
+governor of Cufa, had extinguished the first sparks of an
+insurrection; and Hosein, in the plain of Kerbela, was encompassed by
+a body of five thousand horse, who intercepted his communication with
+the city and the river. He might still have escaped to a fortress in
+the desert, that had defied the power of Caesar[74] and Chosroes,[75]
+and confided in the fidelity of the tribe of Tai, which would have
+armed ten thousand warriors in his defense. In a conference with the
+chief of the enemy, he proposed the option of three honorable
+conditions; that he should be allowed to return to Medina, or be
+stationed in a frontier garrison against the Turks, or safely
+conducted to the presence of Yezid.[76] But the commands of the
+caliph, or his lieutenant, were stern and absolute; and Hosein was
+informed that he must either submit as a captive and a criminal to the
+commander of the faithful, or expect the consequences of his
+rebellion. "Do you think," replied he, "to terrify me with death?" And
+during the short respite of a night, he prepared with calm and solemn
+resignation to encounter his fate. He checked the lamentations of his
+sister Fatima, who deplored the impending ruin of his house. "Our
+trust," said Hosein, "is in God alone. All things, both in heaven and
+earth, must perish and return to their Creator. My brother, my father,
+my mother, were better than me, and every Mussulman has an example in
+the prophet." He prest his friends to consult their safety by a timely
+flight; they unanimously refused to desert or survive their beloved
+master; and their courage was fortified by a fervent prayer and the
+assurance of paradise.
+
+On the morning of the fatal day, he mounted on horseback, with his
+sword in one hand and Koran in the other: his generous band of martyrs
+consisted only of thirty-two horse and forty foot; but their flanks
+and rear were secured by the tentropes, and by a deep trench which
+they had filled with lighted fagots, according to the practise of the
+Arabs. The enemy advanced with reluctance; and one of their chiefs
+deserted, with thirty followers, to claim the partnership of
+inevitable death. In every close onset, or single combat, the despair
+of the Fatimites was invincible; but the surrounding multitudes galled
+them from a distance with a cloud of arrows, and the horses and men
+were successively slain: a truce was allowed on both sides for the
+hour of prayer; and the battle at length expired by the death of the
+last of the companions of Hosein. Alone, weary, and wounded, he seated
+himself at the door of his tent. As he tasted a drop of water, he was
+pierced in the mouth with a dart; and his son and nephew, two
+beautiful youths were killed in his arms. He lifted his hands to
+heaven, they were full of blood, and he uttered a funeral prayer for
+the living and the dead.
+
+In a transport of despair his sister issued from the tent, and adjured
+the general of the Cufians that he would not suffer Hosein to be
+murdered before his eyes; a tear trickled down his venerable beard;
+and the boldest of his soldiers fell back on every side as the dying
+hero threw himself among them. The remorseless Shamer, a name detested
+by the faithful, reproached their cowardice; and the grandson of
+Mohammed was slain with three and thirty strokes of lances and swords.
+After they had trampled on his body, they carried his head to the
+castle of Cufa, and the inhuman Obeidollah struck him on the mouth
+with a cane. "Alas!" exclaimed an aged Mussulman, "on these lips have
+I seen the lips of the apostle of God!" In a distant age and climate
+the tragic scene of the death of Hosein will awaken the sympathy of
+the coldest reader. On the annual festival of his martyrdom, in the
+devout pilgrimage to his sepulcher, his Persian votaries abandon their
+souls to the religious frenzy of sorrow and indignation.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE CAUSES OF THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CITY OF ROME[77]
+
+
+In the last days of Pope Eugenius the Fourth, two of his servants, the
+learned Poggius[78] and a friend, ascended the Capitoline Hill,
+reposed themselves among the ruins of columns and temples, and viewed
+from that commanding spot the wide and various prospect of desolation.
+The place and the object gave ample scope for moralizing on the
+vicissitudes of fortune, which spares neither man nor the proudest of
+his works, which buries empires and cities in a common grave; and it
+was agreed that in proportion to her former greatness the fall of Rome
+was the more awful and deplorable:
+
+"Her primeval state, such as she might appear in a remote age, when
+Evander entertained the stranger of Troy, has been delineated by the
+fancy of Virgil. This Tarpeian Rock was then a savage and solitary
+thicket; in the time of the poet it was crowned with the golden roofs
+of a temple; the temple is overthrown, the gold has been pillaged, the
+wheel of fortune has accomplished her revolution, and the sacred
+ground is again disfigured with thorns and brambles. The hill of the
+Capitol, on which we sit, was formerly the head of the Roman Empire,
+the citadel of the earth, the terror of kings; illustrated by the
+footsteps of so many triumphs, enriched with the spoils and tributes
+of so many nations. This spectacle of the world, how is it fallen! how
+changed! how defaced! The path of victory is obliterated by vines, and
+the benches of the senators are concealed by a dunghill. Cast your
+eyes on the Palatine Hill, and seek among the shapeless and enormous
+fragments the marble theater, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the
+porticoes of Nero's palace; survey the other hills of the city,--the
+vacant space is interrupted only by ruins and gardens. The Forum of
+the Roman people, where they assembled to enact their laws and elect
+their magistrates, is now inclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs,
+or thrown open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The public
+and private edifices that were founded for eternity lie prostrate,
+naked, and broken, like the limbs of a mighty giant; and the ruin is
+the more visible, from the stupendous relics that have survived the
+injuries of time and fortune."...
+
+After a diligent inquiry, I can discern four principal causes of the
+ruin of Rome, which continued to operate in a period of more than a
+thousand years. I. The injuries of time and nature. II. The hostile
+attacks of the Barbarians and Christians. III. The use and abuse of
+the materials. And IV. The domestic quarrels of the Romans.
+
+I. The art of man is able to construct monuments far more permanent
+than the narrow span of his own existence; yet these monuments, like
+himself, are perishable and frail; and in the boundless annals of time
+his life and his labors must equally be measured as a fleeting moment.
+Of a simple and solid edifice it is not easy, however, to circumscribe
+the duration. As the wonder of ancient days, the Pyramids attracted
+the curiosity of the ancients: a hundred generations, the leaves of
+autumn, have dropt into the grave; and after the fall of the Pharaohs
+and Ptolemies, the Caesars and caliphs, the same Pyramids stand erect
+and unshaken above the floods of the Nile. A complex figure of various
+and minute parts is more accessible to injury and decay; and the
+silent lapse of time is often accelerated by hurricanes and
+earthquakes, by fires and inundations. The air and earth have
+doubtless been shaken, and the lofty turrets of Rome have tottered
+from their foundations, but the seven hills do not appear to be placed
+on the great cavities of the globe; nor has the city in any age been
+exposed to the convulsions of nature which in the climate of Antioch,
+Lisbon, or Lima, have crumbled in a few moments the works of ages in
+the dust. Fire is the most powerful agent of life and death....
+
+From her situation, Rome is exposed to the danger of frequent
+inundations. Without excepting the Tiber, the rivers that descend from
+either side of the Apennine have a short and irregular course; a
+shallow stream in the summer heats; an impetuous torrent when it is
+swelled in the spring or winter by the fall of rain and the melting of
+the snows. When the current is repelled from the sea by adverse
+winds, when the ordinary bed is inadequate to the weight of waters,
+they rise above the banks and overspread without limits or control the
+plains and cities of the adjacent country. Soon after the triumph of
+the first Punic war, the Tiber was increased by unusual rains; and the
+inundation, surpassing all former measure of time and place, destroyed
+all the buildings that were situate below the hills of Rome. According
+to the variety of ground, the same mischief was produced by different
+means; and the edifices were either swept away by the sudden impulse,
+or dissolved and undermined by the long continuance of the flood.
+Under the reign of Augustus the same calamity was renewed: the lawless
+river overturned the palaces and temples on its banks; and after the
+labors of the Emperor in cleansing and widening the bed that was
+incumbered with ruins, the vigilance of his successors was exercised
+by similar dangers and designs. The project of diverting into new
+channels the Tiber itself, or some of the dependent streams, was long
+opposed by superstition and local interests; nor did the use
+compensate the toil and costs of the tardy and imperfect execution.
+The servitude of rivers is the noblest and most important victory
+which man has obtained over the licentiousness of nature; and if such
+were the ravages of the Tiber under a firm and active government, what
+could oppose, or who can enumerate, the injuries of the city after the
+fall of the Western Empire? A remedy was at length produced by the
+evil itself: the accumulation of rubbish and the earth that has been
+washed down from the hills is supposed to have elevated the plain of
+Rome fourteen or fifteen feet perhaps above the ancient level: and the
+modern city is less accessible to the attacks of the river.
+
+II. The crowd of writers of every nation who impute the destruction of
+the Roman monuments to the Goths and the Christians, have neglected to
+inquire how far they were animated by a hostile principle, and how far
+they possest the means and the leisure to satiate their enmity. In the
+preceding volumes of this history I have described the triumph of
+barbarism and religion; and I can only resume in a few words their
+real or imaginary connection with the ruin of ancient Rome. Our fancy
+may create or adopt a pleasing romance: that the Goths and Vandals
+sallied from Scandinavia, ardent to avenge the flight of Odin, to
+break the chains and to chastise the oppressors of mankind; that they
+wished to burn the records of classic literature, and to found their
+national architecture on the broken members of the Tuscan and
+Corinthian orders. But in simple truth, the Northern conquerors were
+neither sufficiently savage nor sufficiently refined to entertain such
+aspiring ideas of destruction and revenge. The shepherds of Scythia
+and Germany had been educated in the armies of the empire, whose
+discipline they acquired and whose weakness they invaded; with the
+familiar use of the Latin tongue, they had learned to reverence the
+name and titles of Rome; and tho incapable of emulating, they were
+more inclined to admire than to abolish the arts and studies of a
+brighter period.
+
+In the transient possession of a rich and unresisting capital, the
+soldiers of Alaric and Genseric were stimulated by the passions of a
+victorious army; amidst the wanton indulgence of lust or cruelty,
+portable wealth was the object of their search; nor could they derive
+either pride or pleasure from the unprofitable reflection that they
+had battered to the ground the works of the consuls and Caesars. Their
+moments were indeed precious: the Goths evacuated Rome on the sixth,
+the Vandals on the fifteenth day, and tho it be far more difficult to
+build than to destroy, their hasty assault would have made a slight
+impression on the solid piles of antiquity. We may remember that both
+Alaric and Genseric affected to spare the buildings of the city; that
+they subsisted in strength and beauty under the auspicious government
+of Theodoric; and that the momentary resentment of Totila was disarmed
+by his own temper and the advice of his friends and enemies. From
+these innocent Barbarians the reproach may be transferred to the
+Catholics of Rome. The statues, altars, and houses of the demons were
+an abomination in their eyes; and in the absolute command of the city,
+they might labor with zeal and perseverance to erase the idolatry of
+their ancestors. The demolition of the temples in the East affords to
+_them_ an example of conduct, and to _us_ an argument of belief; and
+it is probable that a portion of guilt or merit may be imputed with
+justice to the Roman proselytes. Yet their abhorrence was confined to
+the monuments of heathen superstition; and the civil structures that
+were dedicated to the business or pleasure of society might be
+preserved without injury or scandal. The change of religion was
+accomplished not by a popular tumult, but by the decrees of the
+emperors, of the Senate, and of time. Of the Christian hierarchy, the
+bishops of Rome were commonly the most prudent and least fanatic; nor
+can any positive charge be opposed to the meritorious act of saving
+and converting the majestic structure of the Pantheon.
+
+III. The value of any object that supplies the wants or pleasures of
+mankind is compounded of its substance and its form, of the materials
+and the manufacture. Its price must depend on the number of persons by
+whom it may be acquired and used; on the extent of the market; and
+consequently on the ease or difficulty of remote exportation according
+to the nature of the commodity, its local situation, and the temporary
+circumstances of the world. The Barbarian conquerors of Rome usurped
+in a moment the toil and treasure of successive ages; but except the
+luxuries of immediate consumption, they must view without desire all
+that could not be removed from the city in the Gothic wagons or the
+fleet of the Vandals. Gold and silver were the first objects of their
+avarice; as in every country, and in the smallest compass, they
+represent the most ample command of the industry and possessions of
+mankind. A vase or a statue of those precious metals might tempt the
+vanity of some Barbarian chief; but the grosser multitude, regardless
+of the form, was tenacious only of the substance, and the melted
+ingots might be readily divided and stamped into the current coin of
+the empire. The less active or less fortunate robbers were reduced to
+the baser plunder of brass, lead, iron, and copper: whatever had
+escaped the Goths and Vandals was pillaged by the Greek tyrants; and
+the Emperor Constans in his rapacious visit stript the bronze tiles
+from the roof of the Pantheon.
+
+The edifices of Rome might be considered as a vast and various mine:
+the first labor of extracting the materials was already performed; the
+metals were purified and cast; the marbles were hewn and polished; and
+after foreign and domestic rapine had been satiated, the remains of
+the city, could a purchaser have been found, were still venal. The
+monuments of antiquity had been left naked of their precious
+ornaments; but the Romans would demolish with their own hands the
+arches and walls, if the hope of profit could surpass the cost of the
+labor and exportation. If Charlemagne had fixt in Italy the seat of
+the Western Empire, his genius would have aspired to restore, rather
+than to violate, the works of the Caesars: but policy confined the
+French monarch to the forests of Germany; his taste could be gratified
+only by destruction; and the new palace of Aix-la-Chapelle was
+decorated with the marbles of Ravenna and Rome. Five hundred years
+after Charlemagne, a king of Sicily, Robert--the wisest and most
+liberal sovereign of the age--was supplied with the same materials by
+the easy navigation of the Tiber and the sea; and Petrarch sighs an
+indignant complaint that the ancient capital of the world should adorn
+from her own bowels the slothful luxury of Naples.
+
+But these examples of plunder or purchase were rare in the darker
+ages; and the Romans, alone and unenvied, might have applied to their
+private or public use the remaining structures of antiquity, if in
+their present form and situation they had not been useless in a great
+measure to the city and its inhabitants. The walls still described the
+old circumference, but the city had descended from the seven hills
+into the Campus Martius; and some of the noblest monuments which had
+braved the injuries of time were left in a desert, far remote from the
+habitations of mankind....
+
+IV. I have reserved for the last the most potent and forcible cause of
+destruction, the domestic hostilities of the Romans themselves. Under
+the dominion of the Greek and French emperors, the peace of the city
+was disturbed by accidental tho frequent seditions: it is from the
+decline of the latter, from the beginning of the tenth century, that
+we may date the licentiousness of private war, which violated with
+impunity the laws of the Code and the gospel, without respecting the
+majesty of the absent sovereign or the presence and person of the
+vicar of Christ.
+
+In a dark period of five hundred years, Rome was perpetually afflicted
+by the sanguinary quarrels of the nobles and the people, the Guelphs
+and Ghibelines, the Colonna and Ursini; and if much has escaped the
+knowledge and much is unworthy of the notice, of history, I have
+exposed in the two preceding chapters the causes and effects of the
+public disorders. At such a time, when every quarrel was decided by
+the sword and none could trust their lives or properties to the
+impotence of law, the powerful citizens were armed for safety, or
+offense, against the domestic enemies whom they feared or hated.
+Except Venice alone, the same dangers and designs were common to all
+the free republics of Italy; and the nobles usurped the prerogative of
+fortifying their houses and erecting strong towers that were capable
+of resisting a sudden attack. The cities were filled with these
+hostile edifices; and the example of Lucca, which contained three
+hundred towers, her law which confined their height to the measure of
+four-score feet, may be extended with suitable latitude to the more
+opulent and populous states. The first step of the senator Brancaleone
+in the establishment of peace and justice, was to demolish (as we have
+already seen) one hundred and forty of the towers of Rome; and in the
+last days of anarchy and discord, as late as the reign of Martin the
+Fifth, forty-four still stood in one of the thirteen or fourteen
+regions of the city.
+
+To this mischievous purpose the remains of antiquity were most readily
+adapted: the temples and arches afforded a broad and solid basis for
+the new structures of brick and stone; and we can name the modern
+turrets that were raised on the triumphal monuments of Julius Caesar,
+Titus, and the Antonines. With some slight alterations, a theater, an
+amphitheater, a mausoleum, was transformed into a strong and spacious
+citadel. I need not repeat that the mole of Adrian has assumed the
+title and form of the castle of St. Angelo; the Septizonium of Severus
+was capable of standing against a royal army; the sepulcher of Metella
+has sunk under its outworks; the theaters of Pompey and Marcellus were
+occupied by the Savelli and Orsini families; and the rough fortress
+has been gradually softened to the splendor and elegance of an Italian
+palace.
+
+The fame of Julius the Second, Leo the Tenth, and Sixtus the Fifth is
+accompanied by the superior merit of Bramante and Fontana, of Raphael
+and Michael Angelo; and the same munificence which had been displayed
+in palaces and temples was directed with equal zeal to revive and
+emulate the labors of antiquity. Prostrate obelisks were raised from
+the ground and erected in the most conspicuous places; of the eleven
+aqueducts of the Caesars and consuls, three were restored; the
+artificial rivers were conducted over a long series of old, or of new
+arches, to discharge into marble basins a flood of salubrious and
+refreshing waters: and the spectator, impatient to ascend the steps of
+St. Peter's, is detained by a column of Egyptian granite, which rises
+between two lofty and perpetual fountains to the height of one hundred
+and twenty feet. The map, the description, the monuments of ancient
+Rome have been elucidated by the diligence of the antiquarian and the
+student; and the footsteps of heroes, the relics, not of superstition
+but of empire, are devoutly visited by a new race of pilgrims from the
+remote and once savage countries of the North.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 64: From the "Memoirs."]
+
+[Footnote 65: She has now an even greater title to remembrance, as the
+mother of Madame de Staeel.]
+
+[Footnote 66: From the "Memoirs."]
+
+[Footnote 67: From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."]
+
+[Footnote 68: Palmyra, of which only imposing ruins of the Roman
+period now remain, was situated on an oasis in a desert east of Syria.
+Its foundation is ascribed to Solomon. Palmyra had commercial
+importance as a center of the caravan trade of the East.]
+
+[Footnote 69: A city of Mesopotamia, on the Tigris, twenty miles
+south-east of Babylon.]
+
+[Footnote 70: The Greek philosopher, author of the famous essay "On
+Sublimity," who was Zenobia's counselor and the instructor of her
+children.]
+
+[Footnote 71: From "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." Alaric
+was king of the West Goths. He died in the year Rome was sacked, and
+was buried with vast treasure in the bed of the river Busento.]
+
+[Footnote 72: From Chapter 50 of "The Decline and Fall of the Roman
+Empire." Hosein was a grandson of Mohammed, founder of the faith that
+bears his name.]
+
+[Footnote 73: Babylonia.]
+
+[Footnote 74: The Roman emperor still retained the title of Caesar.]
+
+[Footnote 75: Chosroes is better known in our day as Phusrau, one of
+the kings of Persia.]
+
+[Footnote 76: The reputed founder of the Mohammedan sect called
+Yezidis.]
+
+[Footnote 77: From the final chapter of "The Decline and Fall of the
+Roman Empire."]
+
+[Footnote 78: A Tuscan author and antiquarian, born in 1381, died in
+1495; at one time secretary of the papal curia; author of a history of
+Florence, but chiefly remembered for having recovered works in Roman
+literature, including eight orations of Cicero.]
+
+
+
+
+END OF VOLUME IV.
+
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