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diff --git a/21628.txt b/21628.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df244bb --- /dev/null +++ b/21628.txt @@ -0,0 +1,17137 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Imaginary Conversations and Poems, by +Walter Savage Landor + +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: Imaginary Conversations and Poems + A Selection + +Author: Walter Savage Landor + +Release Date: May 28, 2007 [EBook #21628] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS AND POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sam W. and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS + AND POEMS: A SELECTION + + By + WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR + + + + +CONTENTS + + +IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS + + Marcellus and Hannibal + + Queen Elizabeth and Cecil + + Epictetus and Seneca + + Peter the Great and Alexis + + Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn + + Joseph Scaliger and Montaigne + + Boccaccio and Petrarca + + Bossuet and the Duchess de Fontanges + + John of Gaunt and Joanna of Kent + + Leofric and Godiva + + Essex and Spenser + + Lord Bacon and Richard Hooker + + Oliver Cromwell and Walter Noble + + Lord Brooke and Sir Philip Sidney + + Southey and Porson + + The Abbe Delille and Walter Landor + + Diogenes and Plato + + Alfieri and Salomon the Florentine Jew + + Rousseau and Malesherbes + + Lucullus and Caesar + + Epicurus, Leontion, and Ternissa + + Dante and Beatrice + + Fra Filippo Lippi and Pope Eugenius the Fourth + + Tasso and Cornelia + + La Fontaine and de La Rochefoucault + + Lucian and Timotheus + + Bishop Shipley and Benjamin Franklin + + Southey and Landor + + The Emperor of China and Tsing-Ti + + Louis XVIII and Talleyrand + + Oliver Cromwell and Sir Oliver Cromwell + + The Count Gleichem: the Countess: their Children, and Zaida + + +THE PENTAMERON + + First Day's Interview + + Third Day's Interview + + Fourth Day's Interview + + Fifth Day's Interview + + +POEMS + + I. She I love (alas in vain!) + + II. Pleasure! why thus desert the heart + + III. Past ruin'd Ilion Helen lives + + IV. Ianthe! you are call'd to cross the sea! + + V. The gates of fame and of the grave + + VI. Twenty years hence my eyes may grow + + VII. Here, ever since you went abroad + + VIII. Tell me not things past all belief + + IX. Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak + + X. Fiesole Idyl + + XI. Ah what avails the sceptred race + + XII. With rosy hand a little girl prest down + + VIII. Ternissa! you are fled! + + XIV. Various the roads of life; in one + + XV. Yes; I write verses now and then + + XVI. On seeing a hair of Lucretia Borgia + + XVII. Once, and once only, have I seen thy face + + XVIII. To Wordsworth + + XIX. To Charles Dickens + + XX. To Barry Cornwall + + XXI. To Robert Browning + + XXII. Age + + XXIII. Leaf after leaf drops off, flower after flower + + XXIV. Well I remember how you smiled + + XXV. I strove with none, for none was worth my strife + + XXVI. Death stands above me, whispering low + + XXVII. A Pastoral + + XXVIII. The Lover + + XXIX. The Poet who Sleeps + + XXX. Daniel Defoe + + XXXI. Idle Words + + XXXII. To the River Avon + + + + +IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS + + + + +MARCELLUS AND HANNIBAL + + +_Hannibal._ Could a Numidian horseman ride no faster? Marcellus! oh! +Marcellus! He moves not--he is dead. Did he not stir his fingers? +Stand wide, soldiers--wide, forty paces; give him air; bring water; +halt! Gather those broad leaves, and all the rest, growing under the +brushwood; unbrace his armour. Loose the helmet first--his breast +rises. I fancied his eyes were fixed on me--they have rolled back +again. Who presumed to touch my shoulder? This horse? It was surely +the horse of Marcellus! Let no man mount him. Ha! ha! the Romans, too, +sink into luxury: here is gold about the charger. + +_Gaulish Chieftain._ Execrable thief! The golden chain of our king +under a beast's grinders! The vengeance of the gods hath overtaken the +impure---- + +_Hannibal._ We will talk about vengeance when we have entered Rome, +and about purity among the priests, if they will hear us. Sound for +the surgeon. That arrow may be extracted from the side, deep as it is. +The conqueror of Syracuse lies before me. Send a vessel off to +Carthage. Say Hannibal is at the gates of Rome. Marcellus, who stood +alone between us, fallen. Brave man! I would rejoice and cannot. How +awfully serene a countenance! Such as we hear are in the islands of +the Blessed. And how glorious a form and stature! Such too was theirs! +They also once lay thus upon the earth wet with their blood--few other +enter there. And what plain armour! + +_Gaulish Chieftain._ My party slew him; indeed, I think I slew him +myself. I claim the chain: it belongs to my king; the glory of Gaul +requires it. Never will she endure to see another take it. + +_Hannibal._ My friend, the glory of Marcellus did not require him to +wear it. When he suspended the arms of your brave king in the temple, +he thought such a trinket unworthy of himself and of Jupiter. The +shield he battered down, the breast-plate he pierced with his +sword--these he showed to the people and to the gods; hardly his wife +and little children saw this, ere his horse wore it. + +_Gaulish Chieftain._ Hear me; O Hannibal! + +_Hannibal._ What! when Marcellus lies before me? when his life may +perhaps be recalled? when I may lead him in triumph to Carthage? when +Italy, Sicily, Greece, Asia, wait to obey me? Content thee! I will +give thee mine own bridle, worth ten such. + +_Gaulish Chieftain._ For myself? + +_Hannibal._ For thyself. + +_Gaulish Chieftain._ And these rubies and emeralds, and that +scarlet----? + +_Hannibal._ Yes, yes. + +_Gaulish Chieftain._ O glorious Hannibal! unconquerable hero! O my +happy country! to have such an ally and defender. I swear eternal +gratitude--yes, gratitude, love, devotion, beyond eternity. + +_Hannibal._ In all treaties we fix the time: I could hardly ask a +longer. Go back to thy station. I would see what the surgeon is about, +and hear what he thinks. The life of Marcellus! the triumph of +Hannibal! what else has the world in it? Only Rome and Carthage: these +follow. + +_Marcellus._ I must die then? The gods be praised! The commander of a +Roman army is no captive. + +_Hannibal._ [_To the Surgeon._] Could not he bear a sea voyage? +Extract the arrow. + +_Surgeon._ He expires that moment. + +_Marcellus._ It pains me: extract it. + +_Hannibal._ Marcellus, I see no expression of pain on your +countenance, and never will I consent to hasten the death of an enemy +in my power. Since your recovery is hopeless, you say truly you are no +captive. + +[_To the Surgeon._] Is there nothing, man, that can assuage the mortal +pain? for, suppress the signs of it as he may, he must feel it. Is +there nothing to alleviate and allay it? + +_Marcellus._ Hannibal, give me thy hand--thou hast found it and +brought it me, compassion. + +[_To the Surgeon._] Go, friend; others want thy aid; several fell +around me. + +_Hannibal._ Recommend to your country, O Marcellus, while time permits +it, reconciliation and peace with me, informing the Senate of my +superiority in force, and the impossibility of resistance. The tablet +is ready: let me take off this ring--try to write, to sign it, at +least. Oh, what satisfaction I feel at seeing you able to rest upon +the elbow, and even to smile! + +_Marcellus._ Within an hour or less, with how severe a brow would +Minos say to me, 'Marcellus, is this thy writing?' + +Rome loses one man: she hath lost many such, and she still hath many +left. + +_Hannibal._ Afraid as you are of falsehood, say you this? I confess in +shame the ferocity of my countrymen. Unfortunately, too, the nearer +posts are occupied by Gauls, infinitely more cruel. The Numidians are +so in revenge: the Gauls both in revenge and in sport. My presence is +required at a distance, and I apprehend the barbarity of one or other, +learning, as they must do, your refusal to execute my wishes for the +common good, and feeling that by this refusal you deprive them of +their country, after so long an absence. + +_Marcellus._ Hannibal, thou art not dying. + +_Hannibal._ What then? What mean you? + +_Marcellus._ That thou mayest, and very justly, have many things yet +to apprehend: I can have none. The barbarity of thy soldiers is +nothing to me: mine would not dare be cruel. Hannibal is forced to be +absent; and his authority goes away with his horse. On this turf lies +defaced the semblance of a general; but Marcellus is yet the regulator +of his army. Dost thou abdicate a power conferred on thee by thy +nation? Or wouldst thou acknowledge it to have become, by thy own sole +fault, less plenary than thy adversary's? + +I have spoken too much: let me rest; this mantle oppresses me. + +_Hannibal._ I placed my mantle on your head when the helmet was first +removed, and while you were lying in the sun. Let me fold it under, +and then replace the ring. + +_Marcellus._ Take it, Hannibal. It was given me by a poor woman who +flew to me at Syracuse, and who covered it with her hair, torn off in +desperation that she had no other gift to offer. Little thought I that +her gift and her words should be mine. How suddenly may the most +powerful be in the situation of the most helpless! Let that ring and +the mantle under my head be the exchange of guests at parting. The +time may come, Hannibal, when thou (and the gods alone know whether as +conqueror or conquered) mayest sit under the roof of my children, and +in either case it shall serve thee. In thy adverse fortune, they will +remember on whose pillow their father breathed his last; in thy +prosperity (Heaven grant it may shine upon thee in some other +country!) it will rejoice thee to protect them. We feel ourselves the +most exempt from affliction when we relieve it, although we are then +the most conscious that it may befall us. + +There is one thing here which is not at the disposal of either. + +_Hannibal._ What? + +_Marcellus._ This body. + +_Hannibal._ Whither would you be lifted? Men are ready. + +_Marcellus._ I meant not so. My strength is failing. I seem to hear +rather what is within than what is without. My sight and my other +senses are in confusion. I would have said--this body, when a few +bubbles of air shall have left it, is no more worthy of thy notice +than of mine; but thy glory will not let thee refuse it to the piety +of my family. + +_Hannibal._ You would ask something else. I perceive an inquietude not +visible till now. + +_Marcellus._ Duty and Death make us think of home sometimes. + +_Hannibal._ Thitherward the thoughts of the conqueror and of the +conquered fly together. + +_Marcellus._ Hast thou any prisoners from my escort? + +_Hannibal._ A few dying lie about--and let them lie--they are Tuscans. +The remainder I saw at a distance, flying, and but one brave man among +them--he appeared a Roman--a youth who turned back, though wounded. +They surrounded and dragged him away, spurring his horse with their +swords. These Etrurians measure their courage carefully, and tack it +well together before they put it on, but throw it off again with +lordly ease. + +Marcellus, why think about them? or does aught else disquiet your +thoughts? + +_Marcellus._ I have suppressed it long enough. My son--my beloved son! + +_Hannibal._ Where is he? Can it be? Was he with you? + +_Marcellus._ He would have shared my fate--and has not. Gods of my +country! beneficent throughout life to me, in death surpassingly +beneficent: I render you, for the last time, thanks. + + + + +QUEEN ELIZABETH AND CECIL + + +_Elizabeth._ I advise thee again, churlish Cecil, how that our Edmund +Spenser, whom thou callest most uncourteously a whining whelp, hath +good and solid reason for his complaint. God's blood! shall the lady +that tieth my garter and shuffles the smock over my head, or the lord +that steadieth my chair's back while I eat, or the other that looketh +to my buck-hounds lest they be mangy, be holden by me in higher esteem +and estate than he who hath placed me among the bravest of past times, +and will as safely and surely set me down among the loveliest in the +future? + +_Cecil._ Your Highness must remember he carouseth fully for such +deserts: fifty pounds a year of unclipped moneys, and a butt of canary +wine; not to mention three thousand acres in Ireland, worth fairly +another fifty and another butt, in seasonable and quiet years. + +_Elizabeth._ The moneys are not enough to sustain a pair of grooms and +a pair of palfreys, and more wine hath been drunken in my presence at +a feast. The moneys are given to such men, that they may not incline +nor be obligated to any vile or lowly occupation; and the canary, that +they may entertain such promising wits as court their company and +converse; and that in such manner there may be alway in our land a +succession of these heirs unto fame. He hath written, not indeed with +his wonted fancifulness, nor in learned and majestical language, but +in homely and rustic wise, some verses which have moved me, and haply +the more inasmuch as they demonstrate to me that his genius hath been +dampened by his adversities. Read them. + +_Cecil._ + + How much is lost when neither heart nor eye + Rosewinged Desire or fabling Hope deceives; + When boyhood with quick throb hath ceased to spy + The dubious apple in the yellow leaves; + + When, rising from the turf where youth reposed, + We find but deserts in the far-sought shore; + When the huge book of Faery-land lies closed, + And those strong brazen clasps will yield no more. + +_Elizabeth._ The said Edmund hath also furnished unto the weaver at +Arras, John Blanquieres, on my account, a description for some of his +cunningest wenches to work at, supplied by mine own self, indeed, as +far as the subject-matter goes, but set forth by him with figures and +fancies, and daintily enough bedecked. I could have wished he had +thereunto joined a fair comparison between Dian--no matter--he might +perhaps have fared the better for it; but poets' wits--God help +them!--when did they ever sit close about them? Read the poesy, not +over-rich, and concluding very awkwardly and meanly. + +_Cecil._ + + Where forms the lotus, with its level leaves + And solid blossoms, many floating isles, + What heavenly radiance swift descending cleaves + The darksome wave! Unwonted beauty smiles + + On its pure bosom, on each bright-eyed flower, + On every nymph, and twenty sate around, + Lo! 'twas Diana--from the sultry hour + Hither she fled, nor fear'd she sight or sound. + + Unhappy youth, whom thirst and quiver-reeds + Drew to these haunts, whom awe forbade to fly! + Three faithful dogs before him rais'd their heads, + And watched and wonder'd at that fixed eye. + + Forth sprang his favourite--with her arrow-hand + Too late the goddess hid what hand may hide, + Of every nymph and every reed complain'd, + And dashed upon the bank the waters wide. + + On the prone head and sandal'd feet they flew-- + Lo! slender hoofs and branching horns appear! + The last marr'd voice not e'en the favourite knew, + But bay'd and fasten'd on the upbraiding deer. + + Far be, chaste goddess, far from me and mine + The stream that tempts thee in the summer noon! + Alas, that vengeance dwells with charms divine---- + +_Elizabeth._ Pshaw! give me the paper: I forewarned thee how it +ended--pitifully, pitifully. + +_Cecil._ I cannot think otherwise than that the undertaker of the +aforecited poesy hath chosen your Highness; for I have seen painted--I +know not where, but I think no farther off than Putney--the +identically same Dian, with full as many nymphs, as he calls them, and +more dogs. So small a matter as a page of poesy shall never stir my +choler nor twitch my purse-string. + +_Elizabeth._ I have read in Plinius and Mela of a runlet near Dodona, +which kindled by approximation an unlighted torch, and extinguished a +lighted one. Now, Cecil, I desire no such a jetty to be celebrated as +the decoration of my court: in simpler words, which your gravity may +more easily understand, I would not from the fountain of honour give +lustre to the dull and ignorant, deadening and leaving in its tomb the +lamp of literature and genius. I ardently wish my reign to be +remembered: if my actions were different from what they are, I should +as ardently wish it to be forgotten. Those are the worst of suicides, +who voluntarily and propensely stab or suffocate their fame, when God +hath commanded them to stand on high for an example. We call him +parricide who destroys the author of his existence: tell me, what +shall we call him who casts forth to the dogs and birds of prey its +most faithful propagator and most firm support? Mark me, I do not +speak of that existence which the proudest must close in a ditch--the +narrowest, too, of ditches and the soonest filled and fouled, and +whereunto a pinch of ratsbane or a poppy-head may bend him; but of +that which reposes on our own good deeds, carefully picked up, +skilfully put together, and decorously laid out for us by another's +kind understanding: I speak of an existence such as no father is +author of, or provides for. The parent gives us few days and +sorrowful; the poet, many and glorious: the one (supposing him +discreet and kindly) best reproves our faults; the other best +remunerates our virtues. + +A page of poesy is a little matter: be it so; but of a truth I do tell +thee, Cecil, it shall master full many a bold heart that the Spaniard +cannot trouble; it shall win to it full many a proud and flighty one +that even chivalry and manly comeliness cannot touch. I may shake +titles and dignities by the dozen from my breakfast-board; but I may +not save those upon whose heads I shake them from rottenness and +oblivion. This year they and their sovereign dwell together; next +year, they and their beagle. Both have names, but names perishable. +The keeper of my privy seal is an earl: what then? the keeper of my +poultry-yard is a Caesar. In honest truth, a name given to a man is no +better than a skin given to him: what is not natively his own falls +off and comes to nothing. + +I desire in future to hear no contempt of penmen, unless a depraved +use of the pen shall have so cramped them as to incapacitate them for +the sword and for the council chamber. If Alexander was the Great, +what was Aristoteles who made him so, and taught him every art and +science he knew, except three--those of drinking, of blaspheming, and +of murdering his bosom friends? Come along: I will bring thee back +again nearer home. Thou mightest toss and tumble in thy bed many +nights, and never eke out the substance of a stanza; but Edmund, if +perchance I should call upon him for his counsel, would give me as +wholesome and prudent as any of you. We should indemnify such men for +the injustice we do unto them in not calling them about us, and for +the mortification they must suffer at seeing their inferiors set +before them. Edmund is grave and gentle: he complains of fortune, not +of Elizabeth; of courts, not of Cecil. I am resolved--so help me, +God!--he shall have no further cause for his repining. Go, convey unto +him those twelve silver spoons, with the apostles on them, gloriously +gilded; and deliver into his hand these twelve large golden pieces, +sufficing for the yearly maintenance of another horse and groom. +Beside which, set open before him with due reverence this Bible, +wherein he may read the mercies of God toward those who waited in +patience for His blessing; and this pair of crimson silk hose, which +thou knowest I have worn only thirteen months, taking heed that the +heel-piece be put into good and sufficient restoration, at my sole +charges, by the Italian woman nigh the pollard elm at Charing Cross. + + + + +EPICTETUS AND SENECA + + +_Seneca._ Epictetus, I desired your master, Epaphroditus, to send you +hither, having been much pleased with his report of your conduct, and +much surprised at the ingenuity of your writings. + +_Epictetus._ Then I am afraid, my friend---- + +_Seneca._ _My friend!_ are these the expressions--Well, let it pass. +Philosophers must bear bravely. The people expect it. + +_Epictetus._ Are philosophers, then, only philosophers for the people; +and, instead of instructing them, must they play tricks before them? +Give me rather the gravity of dancing dogs. Their motions are for the +rabble; their reverential eyes and pendant paws are under the +pressure of awe at a master; but they are dogs, and not below their +destinies. + +_Seneca._ Epictetus! I will give you three talents to let me take that +sentiment for my own. + +_Epictetus._ I would give thee twenty, if I had them, to make it +thine. + +_Seneca._ You mean, by lending it the graces of my language? + +_Epictetus._ I mean, by lending it to thy conduct. And now let me +console and comfort thee, under the calamity I brought on thee by +calling thee _my friend_. If thou art not my friend, why send for me? +Enemy I can have none: being a slave, Fortune has now done with me. + +_Seneca._ Continue, then, your former observations. What were you +saying? + +_Epictetus._ That which thou interruptedst. + +_Seneca._ What was it? + +_Epictetus._ I should have remarked that, if thou foundest ingenuity +in my writings, thou must have discovered in them some deviation from +the plain, homely truths of Zeno and Cleanthes. + +_Seneca._ We all swerve a little from them. + +_Epictetus._ In practice too? + +_Seneca._ Yes, even in practice, I am afraid. + +_Epictetus._ Often? + +_Seneca._ Too often. + +_Epictetus._ Strange! I have been attentive, and yet have remarked but +one difference among you great personages at Rome. + +_Seneca._ What difference fell under your observation? + +_Epictetus._ Crates and Zeno and Cleanthes taught us that our desires +were to be subdued by philosophy alone. In this city, their acute and +inventive scholars take us aside, and show us that there is not only +one way, but two. + +_Seneca._ Two ways? + +_Epictetus._ They whisper in our ear, 'These two ways are philosophy +and enjoyment: the wiser man will take the readier, or, not finding +it, the alternative.' Thou reddenest. + +_Seneca._ Monstrous degeneracy. + +_Epictetus._ What magnificent rings! I did not notice them until thou +liftedst up thy hands to heaven, in detestation of such effeminacy and +impudence. + +_Seneca._ The rings are not amiss; my rank rivets them upon my +fingers: I am forced to wear them. Our emperor gave me one, +Epaphroditus another, Tigellinus the third. I cannot lay them aside a +single day, for fear of offending the gods, and those whom they love +the most worthily. + +_Epictetus._ Although they make thee stretch out thy fingers, like the +arms and legs of one of us slaves upon a cross. + +_Seneca._ Oh, horrible! Find some other resemblance. + +_Epictetus._ The extremities of a fig-leaf. + +_Seneca._ Ignoble! + +_Epictetus._ The claws of a toad, trodden on or stoned. + +_Seneca._ You have great need, Epictetus, of an instructor in +eloquence and rhetoric: you want topics, and tropes, and figures. + +_Epictetus._ I have no room for them. They make such a buzz in the +house, a man's own wife cannot understand what he says to her. + +_Seneca._ Let us reason a little upon style. I would set you right, +and remove from before you the prejudices of a somewhat rustic +education. We may adorn the simplicity of the wisest. + +_Epictetus._ Thou canst not adorn simplicity. What is naked or +defective is susceptible of decoration: what is decorated is +simplicity no longer. Thou mayest give another thing in exchange for +it; but if thou wert master of it, thou wouldst preserve it inviolate. +It is no wonder that we mortals, little able as we are to see truth, +should be less able to express it. + +_Seneca._ You have formed at present no idea of style. + +_Epictetus._ I never think about it. First, I consider whether what I +am about to say is true; then, whether I can say it with brevity, in +such a manner as that others shall see it as clearly as I do in the +light of truth; for, if they survey it as an ingenuity, my desire is +ungratified, my duty unfulfilled. I go not with those who dance round +the image of Truth, less out of honour to her than to display their +agility and address. + +_Seneca._ We must attract the attention of readers by novelty, and +force, and grandeur of expression. + +_Epictetus._ We must. Nothing is so grand as truth, nothing so +forcible, nothing so novel. + +_Seneca._ Sonorous sentences are wanted to awaken the lethargy of +indolence. + +_Epictetus._ Awaken it to what? Here lies the question; and a weighty +one it is. If thou awakenest men where they can see nothing and do no +work, it is better to let them rest: but will not they, thinkest thou, +look up at a rainbow, unless they are called to it by a clap of +thunder? + +_Seneca._ Your early youth, Epictetus, has been, I will not say +neglected, but cultivated with rude instruments and unskilful hands. + +_Epictetus._ I thank God for it. Those rude instruments have left the +turf lying yet toward the sun; and those unskilful hands have plucked +out the docks. + +_Seneca._ We hope and believe that we have attained a vein of +eloquence, brighter and more varied than has been hitherto laid open +to the world. + +_Epictetus._ Than any in the Greek? + +_Seneca._ We trust so. + +_Epictetus._ Than your Cicero's? + +_Seneca._ If the declaration may be made without an offence to +modesty. Surely, you cannot estimate or value the eloquence of that +noble pleader? + +_Epictetus._ Imperfectly, not being born in Italy; and the noble +pleader is a much less man with me than the noble philosopher. I +regret that, having farms and villas, he would not keep his distance +from the pumping up of foul words against thieves, cut-throats, and +other rogues; and that he lied, sweated, and thumped his head and +thighs, in behalf of those who were no better. + +_Seneca._ Senators must have clients, and must protect them. + +_Epictetus._ Innocent or guilty? + +_Seneca._ Doubtless. + +_Epictetus._ If I regret what is and might not be, I may regret more +what both is and must be. However, it is an amiable thing, and no +small merit in the wealthy, even to trifle and play at their leisure +hours with philosophy. It cannot be expected that such a personage +should espouse her, or should recommend her as an inseparable mate to +his heir. + +_Seneca._ I would. + +_Epictetus._ Yes, Seneca, but thou hast no son to make the match for; +and thy recommendation, I suspect, would be given him before he could +consummate the marriage. Every man wishes his sons to be philosophers +while they are young; but takes especial care, as they grow older, to +teach them its insufficiency and unfitness for their intercourse with +mankind. The paternal voice says: 'You must not be particular; you are +about to have a profession to live by; follow those who have thriven +the best in it.' Now, among these, whatever be the profession, canst +thou point out to me one single philosopher? + +_Seneca._ Not just now; nor, upon reflection, do I think it feasible. + +_Epictetus._ Thou, indeed, mayest live much to thy ease and +satisfaction with philosophy, having (they say) two thousand talents. + +_Seneca._ And a trifle to spare--pressed upon me by that godlike +youth, my pupil Nero. + +_Epictetus._ Seneca! where God hath placed a mine, He hath placed the +materials of an earthquake. + +_Seneca._ A true philosopher is beyond the reach of Fortune. + +_Epictetus._ The false one thinks himself so. Fortune cares little +about philosophers; but she remembers where she hath set a rich man, +and she laughs to see the Destinies at his door. + + + + +PETER THE GREAT AND ALEXIS + + +_Peter._ And so, after flying from thy father's house, thou hast +returned again from Vienna. After this affront in the face of Europe, +thou darest to appear before me? + +_Alexis._ My emperor and father! I am brought before your Majesty, not +at my own desire. + +_Peter._ I believe it well. + +_Alexis._ I would not anger you. + +_Peter._ What hope hadst thou, rebel, in thy flight to Vienna? + +_Alexis._ The hope of peace and privacy; the hope of security; and, +above all things, of never more offending you. + +_Peter._ That hope thou hast accomplished. Thou imaginedst, then, that +my brother of Austria would maintain thee at his court--speak! + +_Alexis._ No, sir! I imagined that he would have afforded me a place +of refuge. + +_Peter._ Didst thou, then, take money with thee? + +_Alexis._ A few gold pieces. + +_Peter._ How many? + +_Alexis._ About sixty. + +_Peter._ He would have given thee promises for half the money; but the +double of it does not purchase a house, ignorant wretch! + +_Alexis._ I knew as much as that: although my birth did not appear to +destine me to purchase a house anywhere; and hitherto your liberality, +my father, hath supplied my wants of every kind. + +_Peter._ Not of wisdom, not of duty, not of spirit, not of courage, +not of ambition. I have educated thee among my guards and horses, +among my drums and trumpets, among my flags and masts. When thou wert +a child, and couldst hardly walk, I have taken thee into the arsenal, +though children should not enter according to regulations: I have +there rolled cannon-balls before thee over iron plates; and I have +shown thee bright new arms, bayonets and sabres; and I have pricked +the back of my hands until the blood came out in many places; and I +have made thee lick it; and I have then done the same to thine. +Afterward, from thy tenth year, I have mixed gunpowder in thy grog; I +have peppered thy peaches; I have poured bilge-water (with a little +good wholesome tar in it) upon thy melons; I have brought out girls to +mock thee and cocker thee, and talk like mariners, to make thee +braver. Nothing would do. Nay, recollect thee! I have myself led thee +forth to the window when fellows were hanged and shot; and I have +shown thee every day the halves and quarters of bodies; and I have +sent an orderly or chamberlain for the heads; and I have pulled the +cap up from over the eyes; and I have made thee, in spite of thee, +look steadfastly upon them, incorrigible coward! + +And now another word with thee about thy scandalous flight from the +palace, in time of quiet, too! To the point! Did my brother of Austria +invite thee? Did he, or did he not? + +_Alexis._ May I answer without doing an injury or disservice to his +Imperial Majesty? + +_Peter._ Thou mayest. What injury canst thou or any one do, by the +tongue, to such as he is? + +_Alexis._ At the moment, no; he did not. Nor indeed can I assert that +he at any time invited me; but he said he pitied me. + +_Peter._ About what? hold thy tongue; let that pass. Princes never +pity but when they would make traitors: then their hearts grow +tenderer than tripe. He pitied thee, kind soul, when he would throw +thee at thy father's head; but finding thy father too strong for him, +he now commiserates the parent, laments the son's rashness and +disobedience, and would not make God angry for the world. At first, +however, there must have been some overture on his part; otherwise +thou are too shamefaced for intrusion. Come--thou hast never had wit +enough to lie--tell me the truth, the whole truth. + +_Alexis._ He said that if ever I wanted an asylum, his court was open +to me. + +_Peter._ Open! so is the tavern; but folks pay for what they get +there. Open, truly! and didst thou find it so? + +_Alexis._ He received me kindly. + +_Peter._ I see he did. + +_Alexis._ Derision, O my father! is not the fate I merit. + +_Peter._ True, true! it was not intended. + +_Alexis._ Kind father! punish me then as you will. + +_Peter._ Villain! wouldst thou kiss my hand, too? Art thou ignorant +that the Austrian threw thee away from him, with the same indifference +as he would the outermost leaf of a sandy sunburnt lettuce? + +_Alexis._ Alas! I am not ignorant of this. + +_Peter._ He dismissed thee at my order. If I had demanded from him his +daughter, to be the bedfellow of a Kalmuc, he would have given her, +and praised God. + +_Alexis._ O father! is his baseness my crime? + +_Peter._ No; thine is greater. Thy intention, I know, is to subvert +the institutions it has been the labour of my lifetime to establish. +Thou hast never rejoiced at my victories. + +_Alexis._ I have rejoiced at your happiness and your safety. + +_Peter._ Liar! coward! traitor! when the Polanders and Swedes fell +before me, didst thou from thy soul congratulate me? Didst thou get +drunk at home or abroad, or praise the Lord of Hosts and Saint +Nicholas? Wert thou not silent and civil and low-spirited? + +_Alexis._ I lamented the irretrievable loss of human life; I lamented +that the bravest and noblest were swept away the first; that the +gentlest and most domestic were the earliest mourners; that frugality +was supplanted by intemperance; that order was succeeded by confusion; +and that your Majesty was destroying the glorious plans you alone were +capable of devising. + +_Peter._ I destroy them! how? Of what plans art thou speaking? + +_Alexis._ Of civilizing the Muscovites. The Polanders in part were +civilized: the Swedes, more than any other nation on the Continent; +and so excellently versed were they in military science, and so +courageous, that every man you killed cost you seven or eight. + +_Peter._ Thou liest; nor six. And civilized, forsooth? Why, the robes +of the metropolitan, him at Upsal, are not worth three ducats, between +Jew and Livornese. I have no notion that Poland and Sweden shall be +the only countries that produce great princes. What right have they to +such as Gustavus and Sobieski? Europe ought to look to this before +discontents become general, and the people do to us what we have the +privilege of doing to the people. I am wasting my words: there is no +arguing with positive fools like thee. So thou wouldst have desired me +to let the Polanders and Swedes lie still and quiet! Two such powerful +nations! + +_Alexis._ For that reason and others I would have gladly seen them +rest, until our own people had increased in numbers and prosperity. + +_Peter._ And thus thou disputest my right, before my face, to the +exercise of the supreme power. + +_Alexis._ Sir! God forbid! + +_Peter._ God forbid, indeed! What care such villains as thou art what +God forbids! He forbids the son to be disobedient to the father; He +forbids--He forbids--twenty things. I do not wish, and will not have, +a successor who dreams of dead people. + +_Alexis._ My father! I have dreamed of none such. + +_Peter._ Thou hast, and hast talked about them--Scythians, I think, +they call 'em. Now, who told thee, Mr. Professor, that the Scythians +were a happier people than we are; that they were inoffensive; that +they were free; that they wandered with their carts from pasture to +pasture, from river to river; that they traded with good faith; that +they fought with good courage; that they injured none, invaded none, +and feared none? At this rate I have effected nothing. The great +founder of Rome, I heard in Holland, slew his brother for despiting +the weakness of his walls; and shall the founder of this better place +spare a degenerate son, who prefers a vagabond life to a civilized +one, a cart to a city, a Scythian to a Muscovite? Have I not shaved my +people, and breeched them? Have I not formed them into regular armies, +with bands of music and haversacks? Are bows better than cannon? +shepherds than dragoons, mare's milk than brandy, raw steaks than +broiled? Thine are tenets that strike at the root of politeness and +sound government. Every prince in Europe is interested in rooting them +out by fire and sword. There is no other way with false doctrines: +breath against breath does little. + +_Alexis._ Sire, I never have attempted to disseminate my opinions. + +_Peter._ How couldst thou? the seed would fall only on granite. Those, +however, who caught it brought it to me. + +_Alexis._ Never have I undervalued civilization: on the contrary, I +regretted whatever impeded it. In my opinion, the evils that have been +attributed to it sprang from its imperfections and voids; and no +nation has yet acquired it more than very scantily. + +_Peter._ How so? give me thy reasons--thy fancies, rather; for reason +thou hast none. + +_Alexis._ When I find the first of men, in rank and genius, hating one +another, and becoming slanderers and liars in order to lower and +vilify an opponent; when I hear the God of mercy invoked to massacres, +and thanked for furthering what He reprobates and condemns--I look +back in vain on any barbarous people for worse barbarism. I have +expressed my admiration of our forefathers, who, not being Christians, +were yet more virtuous than those who are; more temperate, more just, +more sincere, more chaste, more peaceable. + +_Peter._ Malignant atheist! + +_Alexis._ Indeed, my father, were I malignant I must be an atheist; +for malignity is contrary to the command, and inconsistent with the +belief, of God. + +_Peter._ Am I Czar of Muscovy, and hear discourses on reason and +religion? from my own son, too! No, by the Holy Trinity! thou art no +son of mine. If thou touchest my knee again, I crack thy knuckles with +this tobacco-stopper: I wish it were a sledge-hammer for thy sake. +Off, sycophant! Off, runaway slave! + +_Alexis._ Father! father! my heart is broken! If I have offended, +forgive me! + +_Peter._ The State requires thy signal punishment. + +_Alexis._ If the State requires it, be it so; but let my father's +anger cease! + +_Peter._ The world shall judge between us. I will brand thee with +infamy. + +_Alexis._ Until now, O father! I never had a proper sense of glory. +Hear me, O Czar! let not a thing so vile as I am stand between you and +the world! Let none accuse you! + +_Peter._ Accuse me, rebel! Accuse me, traitor! + +_Alexis._ Let none speak ill of you, O my father! The public voice +shakes the palace; the public voice penetrates the grave; it precedes +the chariot of Almighty God, and is heard at the judgment-seat. + +_Peter._ Let it go to the devil! I will have none of it here in +Petersburg. Our church says nothing about it; our laws forbid it. As +for thee, unnatural brute, I have no more to do with thee neither! + +Ho, there! chancellor! What! come at last! Wert napping, or counting +thy ducats? + +_Chancellor._ Your Majesty's will and pleasure! + +_Peter._ Is the Senate assembled in that room? + +_Chancellor._ Every member, sire. + +_Peter._ Conduct this youth with thee, and let them judge him; thou +understandest me. + +_Chancellor._ Your Majesty's commands are the breath of our nostrils. + +_Peter._ If these rascals are amiss, I will try my new cargo of +Livonian hemp upon 'em. + +_Chancellor._ [_Returning._] Sire, sire! + +_Peter._ Speak, fellow! Surely they have not condemned him to death, +without giving themselves time to read the accusation, that thou +comest back so quickly. + +_Chancellor._ No, sire! Nor has either been done. + +_Peter._ Then thy head quits thy shoulders. + +_Chancellor._ O sire! + +_Peter._ Curse thy silly _sires_! what art thou about? + +_Chancellor._ Alas! he fell. + +_Peter._ Tie him up to thy chair, then. Cowardly beast! what made him +fall? + +_Chancellor._ The hand of Death; the name of father. + +_Peter._ Thou puzzlest me; prithee speak plainlier. + +_Chancellor._ We told him that his crime was proven and manifest; that +his life was forfeited. + +_Peter._ So far, well enough. + +_Chancellor._ He smiled. + +_Peter._ He did! did he? Impudence shall do him little good. Who could +have expected it from that smock-face! Go on--what then? + +_Chancellor._ He said calmly, but not without sighing twice or thrice, +'Lead me to the scaffold: I am weary of life; nobody loves me.' I +condoled with him, and wept upon his hand, holding the paper against +my bosom. He took the corner of it between his fingers, and said, +'Read me this paper; read my death-warrant. Your silence and tears +have signified it; yet the law has its forms. Do not keep me in +suspense. My father says, too truly, I am not courageous; but the +death that leads me to my God shall never terrify me.' + +_Peter._ I have seen these white-livered knaves die resolutely; I have +seen them quietly fierce like white ferrets with their watery eyes and +tiny teeth. You read it? + +_Chancellor._ In part, sire! When he heard your Majesty's name +accusing him of treason and attempts at rebellion and parricide, he +fell speechless. We raised him up: he was motionless; he was dead! + +_Peter._ Inconsiderate and barbarous varlet as thou art, dost thou +recite this ill accident to a father! and to one who has not dined! +Bring me a glass of brandy. + +_Chancellor._ And it please your Majesty, might I call a--a---- + +_Peter._ Away and bring it: scamper! All equally and alike shall obey +and serve me. + +Hark ye! bring the bottle with it: I must cool myself--and--hark ye! a +rasher of bacon on thy life! and some pickled sturgeon, and some krout +and caviare, and good strong cheese. + + + + +HENRY VIII AND ANNE BOLEYN + + +_Henry._ Dost thou know me, Nanny, in this yeoman's dress? 'Sblood! +does it require so long and vacant a stare to recollect a husband +after a week or two? No tragedy-tricks with me! a scream, a sob, or +thy kerchief a trifle the wetter, were enough. Why, verily the little +fool faints in earnest. These whey faces, like their kinsfolk the +ghosts, give us no warning. Hast had water enough upon thee? Take +that, then: art thyself again? + +_Anne._ Father of mercies! do I meet again my husband, as was my last +prayer on earth? Do I behold my beloved lord--in peace--and pardoned, +my partner in eternal bliss? it was his voice. I cannot see him: why +cannot I? Oh, why do these pangs interrupt the transports of the +blessed? + +_Henry._ Thou openest thy arms: faith! I came for that. Nanny, thou +art a sweet slut. Thou groanest, wench: art in labour? Faith! among +the mistakes of the night, I am ready to think almost that thou hast +been drinking, and that I have not. + +_Anne._ God preserve your Highness: grant me your forgiveness for one +slight offence. My eyes were heavy; I fell asleep while I was reading. +I did not know of your presence at first; and, when I did, I could +not speak. I strove for utterance: I wanted no respect for my liege +and husband. + +_Henry._ My pretty warm nestling, thou wilt then lie! Thou wert +reading, and aloud too, with thy saintly cup of water by thee, +and--what! thou art still girlishly fond of those dried cherries! + +_Anne._ I had no other fruit to offer your Highness the first time I +saw you, and you were then pleased to invent for me some reason why +they should be acceptable. I did not dry these: may I present them, +such as they are? We shall have fresh next month. + +_Henry._ Thou art always driving away from the discourse. One moment +it suits thee to know me, another not. + +_Anne._ Remember, it is hardly three months since I miscarried. I am +weak, and liable to swoons. + +_Henry._ Thou hast, however, thy bridal cheeks, with lustre upon them +when there is none elsewhere, and obstinate lips resisting all +impression; but, now thou talkest about miscarrying, who is the father +of that boy? + +_Anne._ Yours and mine--He who hath taken him to his own home, before +(like me) he could struggle or cry for it. + +_Henry._ Pagan, or worse, to talk so! He did not come into the world +alive: there was no baptism. + +_Anne._ I thought only of our loss: my senses are confounded. I did +not give him my milk, and yet I loved him tenderly; for I often +fancied, had he lived, how contented and joyful he would have made you +and England. + +_Henry._ No subterfuges and escapes. I warrant, thou canst not say +whether at my entrance thou wert waking or wandering. + +_Anne._ Faintness and drowsiness came upon me suddenly. + +_Henry._ Well, since thou really and truly sleepedst, what didst dream +of? + +_Anne._ I begin to doubt whether I did indeed sleep. + +_Henry._ Ha! false one--never two sentences of truth together! But +come, what didst think about, asleep or awake? + +_Anne._ I thought that God had pardoned me my offences, and had +received me unto Him. + +_Henry._ And nothing more? + +_Anne._ That my prayers had been heard and my wishes were +accomplishing: the angels alone can enjoy more beatitude than this. + +_Henry._ Vexatious little devil! She says nothing now about me, merely +from perverseness. Hast thou never thought about me, nor about thy +falsehood and adultery? + +_Anne._ If I had committed any kind of falsehood, in regard to you or +not, I should never have rested until I had thrown myself at your feet +and obtained your pardon; but, if ever I had been guilty of that other +crime, I know not whether I should have dared to implore it, even of +God's mercy. + +_Henry._ Thou hast heretofore cast some soft glances upon Smeaton; +hast thou not? + +_Anne._ He taught me to play on the virginals, as you know, when I was +little, and thereby to please your Highness. + +_Henry._ And Brereton and Norris--what have they taught thee? + +_Anne._ They are your servants, and trusty ones. + +_Henry._ Has not Weston told thee plainly that he loved thee? + +_Anne._ Yes; and---- + +_Henry._ What didst thou? + +_Anne._ I defied him. + +_Henry._ Is that all? + +_Anne._ I could have done no more if he had told me that he hated me. +Then, indeed, I should have incurred more justly the reproaches of +your Highness: I should have smiled. + +_Henry._ We have proofs abundant: the fellows shall one and all +confront thee. Aye, clap thy hands and kiss thy sleeve, harlot! + +_Anne._ Oh that so great a favour is vouchsafed me! My honour is +secure; my husband will be happy again; he will see my innocence. + +_Henry._ Give me now an account of the moneys thou hast received from +me within these nine months. I want them not back: they are letters of +gold in record of thy guilt. Thou hast had no fewer than fifteen +thousand pounds in that period, without even thy asking; what hast +done with it, wanton? + +_Anne._ I have regularly placed it out to interest. + +_Henry._ Where? I demand of thee. + +_Anne._ Among the needy and ailing. My Lord Archbishop has the account +of it, sealed by him weekly. I also had a copy myself; those who took +away my papers may easily find it; for there are few others, and they +lie open. + +_Henry._ Think on my munificence to thee; recollect who made thee. +Dost sigh for what thou hast lost? + +_Anne._ I do, indeed. + +_Henry._ I never thought thee ambitious; but thy vices creep out one +by one. + +_Anne._ I do not regret that I have been a queen and am no longer +one; nor that my innocence is called in question by those who never +knew me; but I lament that the good people who loved me so cordially, +hate and curse me; that those who pointed me out to their daughters +for imitation check them when they speak about me; and that he whom +next to God I have served with most devotion is my accuser. + +_Henry._ Wast thou conning over something in that dingy book for thy +defence? Come, tell me, what wast thou reading? + +_Anne._ This ancient chronicle. I was looking for someone in my own +condition, and must have missed the page. Surely in so many hundred +years there shall have been other young maidens, first too happy for +exaltation, and after too exalted for happiness--not, perchance, +doomed to die upon a scaffold, by those they ever honoured and served +faithfully; that, indeed, I did not look for nor think of; but my +heart was bounding for any one I could love and pity. She would be +unto me as a sister dead and gone; but hearing me, seeing me, +consoling me, and being consoled. O my husband! it is so heavenly a +thing---- + +_Henry._ To whine and whimper, no doubt, is vastly heavenly. + +_Anne._ I said not so; but those, if there be any such, who never +weep, have nothing in them of heavenly or of earthly. The plants, the +trees, the very rocks and unsunned clouds, show us at least the +semblances of weeping; and there is not an aspect of the globe we live +on, nor of the waters and skies around it, without a reference and a +similitude to our joys or sorrows. + +_Henry._ I do not remember that notion anywhere. Take care no enemy +rake out of it something of materialism. Guard well thy empty hot +brain; it may hatch more evil. As for those odd words, I myself would +fain see no great harm in them, knowing that grief and frenzy strike +out many things which would else lie still, and neither spurt nor +sparkle. I also know that thou hast never read anything but Bible and +history--the two worst books in the world for young people, and the +most certain to lead astray both prince and subject. For which reason +I have interdicted and entirely put down the one, and will (by the +blessing of the Virgin and of holy Paul) commit the other to a rigid +censor. If it behoves us kings to enact what our people shall eat and +drink--of which the most unruly and rebellious spirit can entertain no +doubt--greatly more doth it behove us to examine what they read and +think. The body is moved according to the mind and will; we must take +care that the movement be a right one, on pain of God's anger in this +life and the next. + +_Anne._ O my dear husband! it must be a naughty thing, indeed, that +makes Him angry beyond remission. Did you ever try how pleasant it is +to forgive any one? There is nothing else wherein we can resemble God +perfectly and easily. + +_Henry._ Resemble God perfectly and easily! Do vile creatures talk +thus of the Creator? + +_Anne._ No, Henry, when His creatures talk thus of Him, they are no +longer vile creatures! When they know that He is good, they love Him; +and, when they love Him, they are good themselves. O Henry! my husband +and king! the judgments of our Heavenly Father are righteous; on this, +surely, we must think alike. + +_Henry._ And what, then? Speak out; again I command thee, speak +plainly! thy tongue was not so torpid but this moment. Art ready? Must +I wait? + +_Anne._ If any doubt remains upon your royal mind of your equity in +this business: should it haply seem possible to you that passion or +prejudice, in yourself or another, may have warped so strong an +understanding--do but supplicate the Almighty to strengthen and +enlighten it, and He will hear you. + +_Henry._ What! thou wouldst fain change thy quarters, ay? + +_Anne._ My spirit is detached and ready, and I shall change them +shortly, whatever your Highness may determine. + +_Henry._ Yet thou appearest hale and resolute, and (they tell me) +smirkest and smilest to everybody. + +_Anne._ The withered leaf catches the sun sometimes, little as it can +profit by it; and I have heard stories of the breeze in other climates +that sets in when daylight is about to close, and how constant it is, +and how refreshing. My heart, indeed, is now sustained strangely; it +became the more sensibly so from that time forward, when power and +grandeur and all things terrestrial were sunk from sight. Every act of +kindness in those about me gives me satisfaction and pleasure, such as +I did not feel formerly. I was worse before God chastened me; yet I +was never an ingrate. What pains have I taken to find out the +village-girls who placed their posies in my chamber ere I arose in the +morning! How gladly would I have recompensed the forester who lit up a +brake on my birthnight, which else had warmed him half the winter! But +these are times past: I was not Queen of England. + +_Henry._ Nor adulterous, nor heretical. + +_Anne._ God be praised! + +_Henry._ Learned saint! thou knowest nothing of the lighter, but +perhaps canst inform me about the graver, of them. + +_Anne._ Which may it be, my liege? + +_Henry._ Which may it be? Pestilence! I marvel that the walls of this +tower do not crack around thee at such impiety. + +_Anne._ I would be instructed by the wisest of theologians: such is +your Highness. + +_Henry._ Are the sins of the body, foul as they are, comparable to +those of the soul? + +_Anne._ When they are united, they must be worse. + +_Henry._ Go on, go on: thou pushest thy own breast against the sword. +God hath deprived thee of thy reason for thy punishment. I must hear +more: proceed, I charge thee. + +_Anne._ An aptitude to believe one thing rather than another, from +ignorance or weakness, or from the more persuasive manner of the +teacher, or from his purity of life, or from the strong impression of +a particular text at a particular time, and various things beside, may +influence and decide our opinion; and the hand of the Almighty, let us +hope, will fall gently on human fallibility. + +_Henry._ Opinion in matters of faith! rare wisdom! rare religion! +Troth, Anne! thou hast well sobered me. I came rather warmly and +lovingly; but these light ringlets, by the holy rood, shall not shade +this shoulder much longer. Nay, do not start; I tap it for the last +time, my sweetest. If the Church permitted it, thou shouldst set forth +on thy long journey with the Eucharist between thy teeth, however +loath. + +_Anne._ Love your Elizabeth, my honoured lord, and God bless you! She +will soon forget to call me. Do not chide her: think how young she is. + +Could I, could I kiss her, but once again! it would comfort my +heart--or break it. + + + + +JOSEPH SCALIGER AND MONTAIGNE + + +_Montaigne._ What could have brought you, M. de l'Escale, to visit the +old man of the mountain, other than a good heart? Oh, how delighted +and charmed I am to hear you speak such excellent Gascon. You rise +early, I see: you must have risen with the sun, to be here at this +hour; it is a stout half-hour's walk from the brook. I have capital +white wine, and the best cheese in Auvergne. You saw the goats and +the two cows before the castle. + +Pierre, thou hast done well: set it upon the table, and tell Master +Matthew to split a couple of chickens and broil them, and to pepper +but one. Do you like pepper, M. de l'Escale? + +_Scaliger._ Not much. + +_Montaigne._ Hold hard! let the pepper alone: I hate it. Tell him to +broil plenty of ham; only two slices at a time, upon his salvation. + +_Scaliger._ This, I perceive, is the antechamber to your library: here +are your everyday books. + +_Montaigne._ Faith! I have no other. These are plenty, methinks; is +not that your opinion? + +_Scaliger._ You have great resources within yourself, and therefore +can do with fewer. + +_Montaigne._ Why, how many now do you think here may be? + +_Scaliger._ I did not believe at first that there could be above +fourscore. + +_Montaigne._ Well! are fourscore few?--are we talking of peas and +beans? + +_Scaliger._ I and my father (put together) have written well-nigh as +many. + +_Montaigne._ Ah! to write them is quite another thing: but one reads +books without a spur, or even a pat from our Lady Vanity. How do you +like my wine?--it comes from the little knoll yonder: you cannot see +the vines, those chestnut-trees are between. + +_Scaliger._ The wine is excellent; light, odoriferous, with a +smartness like a sharp child's prattle. + +_Montaigne._ It never goes to the head, nor pulls the nerves, which +many do as if they were guitar-strings. I drink a couple of bottles a +day, winter and summer, and never am the worse for it. You gentlemen +of the Agennois have better in your province, and indeed the very best +under the sun. I do not wonder that the Parliament of Bordeaux should +be jealous of their privileges, and call it Bordeaux. Now, if you +prefer your own country wine, only say it: I have several bottles in +my cellar, with corks as long as rapiers, and as polished. I do not +know, M. de l'Escale, whether you are particular in these matters: not +quite, I should imagine, so great a judge in them as in others? + +_Scaliger._ I know three things: wine, poetry, and the world. + +_Montaigne._ You know one too many, then. I hardly know whether I know +anything about poetry; for I like Clem Marot better than Ronsard. +Ronsard is so plaguily stiff and stately, where there is no occasion +for it; I verily do think the man must have slept with his wife in a +cuirass. + +_Scaliger._ It pleases me greatly that you like Marot. His versions of +the Psalms is lately set to music, and added to the New Testament of +Geneva. + +_Montaigne._ It is putting a slice of honeycomb into a barrel of +vinegar, which will never grow the sweeter for it. + +_Scaliger._ Surely, you do not think in this fashion of the New +Testament! + +_Montaigne._ Who supposes it? Whatever is mild and kindly is there. +But Jack Calvin has thrown bird-lime and vitriol upon it, and whoever +but touches the cover dirties his fingers or burns them. + +_Scaliger._ Calvin is a very great man, I do assure you, M. de +Montaigne. + +_Montaigne._ I do not like your great men who beckon me to them, call +me their begotten, their dear child, and their entrails; and, if I +happen to say on any occasion, 'I beg leave, sir, to dissent a little +from you,' stamp and cry, 'The devil you do!' and whistle to the +executioner. + +_Scaliger._ You exaggerate, my worthy friend! + +_Montaigne._ Exaggerate do I, M. de l'Escale? What was it he did the +other day to the poor devil there with an odd name?--Melancthon, I +think it is. + +_Scaliger._ I do not know: I have received no intelligence of late +from Geneva. + +_Montaigne._ It was but last night that our curate rode over from +Lyons (he made two days of it, as you may suppose) and supped with me. +He told me that Jack had got his old friend hanged and burned. I could +not join him in the joke, for I find none such in the New Testament, +on which he would have founded it; and, if it is one, it is not in my +manner or to my taste. + +_Scaliger._ I cannot well believe the report, my dear sir. He was +rather urgent, indeed, on the combustion of the heretic Michael +Servetus some years past. + +_Montaigne._ A thousand to one, my spiritual guide mistook the name. +He has heard of both, I warrant him, and thinks in his conscience that +either is as good a roast as the other. + +_Scaliger._ Theologians are proud and intolerant, and truly the +farthest of all men from theology, if theology means the rational +sense of religion, or indeed has anything to do with it in any way. +Melancthon was the very best of the reformers; quiet, sedate, +charitable, intrepid, firm in friendship, ardent in faith, acute in +argument, and profound in learning. + +_Montaigne._ Who cares about his argumentation or his learning, if he +was the rest? + +_Scaliger._ I hope you will suspend your judgment on this affair until +you receive some more certain and positive information. + +_Montaigne._ I can believe it of the Sieur Calvin. + +_Scaliger._ I cannot. John Calvin is a grave man, orderly and +reasonable. + +_Montaigne._ In my opinion he has not the order nor the reason of my +cook. Mat never took a man for a sucking-pig, cleaning and scraping +and buttering and roasting him; nor ever twitched God by the sleeve +and swore He should not have His own way. + +_Scaliger._ M. de Montaigne, have you ever studied the doctrine of +predestination? + +_Montaigne._ I should not understand it, if I had; and I would not +break through an old fence merely to get into a cavern. I would not +give a fig or a fig-leaf to know the truth of it, as far as any man +can teach it me. Would it make me honester or happier, or, in other +things, wiser? + +_Scaliger._ I do not know whether it would materially. + +_Montaigne._ I should be an egregious fool then to care about it. Our +disputes on controverted points have filled the country with +missionaries and cut-throats. Both parties have shown a disposition to +turn this comfortable old house of mine into a fortress. If I had +inclined to either, the other would have done it. Come walk about it +with me; after a ride, you can do nothing better to take off fatigue. + +_Scaliger._ A most spacious kitchen! + +_Montaigne._ Look up! + +_Scaliger._ You have twenty or more flitches of bacon hanging there. + +_Montaigne._ And if I had been a doctor or a captain, I should have +had a cobweb and predestination in the place of them. Your soldiers of +the _religion_ on the one side, and of the _good old faith_ on the +other, would not have left unto me safe and sound even that good old +woman there. + +_Scaliger._ Oh, yes! they would, I hope. + +_Old Woman._ Why dost giggle, Mat? What should he know about the +business? He speaks mighty bad French, and is as spiteful as the +devil. Praised be God, we have a kind master, who thinks about us, and +feels for us. + +_Scaliger._ Upon my word, M. de Montaigne, this gallery is an +interesting one. + +_Montaigne._ I can show you nothing but my house and my dairy. We have +no chase in the month of May, you know--unless you would like to bait +the badger in the stable. This is rare sport in rainy days. + +_Scaliger._ Are you in earnest, M. de Montaigne? + +_Montaigne._ No, no, no, I cannot afford to worry him outright: only a +little for pastime--a morning's merriment for the dogs and wenches. + +_Scaliger._ You really are then of so happy a temperament that, at +your time of life, you can be amused by baiting a badger! + +_Montaigne._ Why not? Your father, a wiser and graver and older man +than I am, was amused by baiting a professor or critic. I have not a +dog in the kennel that would treat the badger worse than brave Julius +treated Cardan and Erasmus, and some dozens more. We are all childish, +old as well as young; and our very last tooth would fain stick, M. de +l'Escale, in some tender place of a neighbour. Boys laugh at a person +who falls in the dirt; men laugh rather when they make him fall, and +most when the dirt is of their own laying. + +Is not the gallery rather cold, after the kitchen? We must go through +it to get into the court where I keep my tame rabbits; the stable is +hard by: come along, come along. + +_Scaliger._ Permit me to look a little at those banners. Some of them +are old indeed. + +_Montaigne._ Upon my word, I blush to think I never took notice how +they are tattered. I have no fewer than three women in the house, and +in a summer's evening, only two hours long, the worst of these rags +might have been darned across. + +_Scaliger._ You would not have done it surely! + +_Montaigne._ I am not over-thrifty; the women might have been better +employed. It is as well as it is then; ay? + +_Scaliger._ I think so. + +_Montaigne._ So be it. + +_Scaliger._ They remind me of my own family, we being descended from +the great Cane della Scala, Prince of Verona, and from the House of +Hapsburg, as you must have heard from my father. + +_Montaigne._ What signifies it to the world whether the great Cane was +tied to his grandmother or not? As for the House of Hapsburg, if you +could put together as many such houses as would make up a city larger +than Cairo, they would not be worth his study, or a sheet of paper on +the table of it. + + + + +BOCCACCIO AND PETRARCA + + +_Boccaccio._ Remaining among us, I doubt not that you would soon +receive the same distinctions in your native country as others have +conferred upon you: indeed, in confidence I may promise it. For +greatly are the Florentines ashamed that the most elegant of their +writers and the most independent of their citizens lives in exile, by +the injustice he had suffered in the detriment done to his property, +through the intemperate administration of their laws. + +_Petrarca._ Let them recall me soon and honourably: then perhaps I may +assist them to remove their ignominy, which I carry about with me +wherever I go, and which is pointed out by my exotic laurel. + +_Boccaccio._ There is, and ever will be, in all countries and under +all governments, an ostracism for their greatest men. + +_Petrarca._ At present we will talk no more about it. To-morrow I +pursue my journey towards Padua, where I am expected; where some few +value and esteem me, honest and learned and ingenious men; although +neither those Transpadane regions, nor whatever extends beyond them, +have yet produced an equal to Boccaccio. + +_Boccaccio._ Then, in the name of friendship, do not go thither!--form +such rather from your fellow-citizens. I love my equals heartily; and +shall love them the better when I see them raised up here, from our +own mother earth, by you. + +_Petrarca._ Let us continue our walk. + +_Boccaccio._ If you have been delighted (and you say you have been) at +seeing again, after so long an absence, the house and garden wherein I +have placed the relaters of my stories, as reported in the _Decameron_, +come a little way farther up the ascent, and we will pass through the +vineyard on the west of the villa. You will see presently another on +the right, lying in its warm little garden close to the roadside, the +scene lately of somewhat that would have looked well, as illustration, +in the midst of your Latin reflections. It shows us that people the +most serious and determined may act at last contrariwise to the line +of conduct they have laid down. + +_Petrarca._ Relate it to me, Messer Giovanni; for you are able to give +reality the merits and charms of fiction, just as easily as you give +fiction the semblance, the stature, and the movement of reality. + +_Boccaccio._ I must here forgo such powers, if in good truth I possess +them. + +_Petrarca._ This long green alley, defended by box and cypresses, is +very pleasant. The smell of box, although not sweet, is more agreeable +to me than many that are: I cannot say from what resuscitation of +early and tender feeling. The cypress, too, seems to strengthen the +nerves of the brain. Indeed, I delight in the odour of most trees and +plants. + +Will not that dog hurt us?--he comes closer. + +_Boccaccio._ Dog! thou hast the colours of a magpie and the tongue of +one; prithee be quiet: art thou not ashamed? + +_Petrarca._ Verily he trots off, comforting his angry belly with his +plenteous tail, flattened and bestrewn under it. He looks back, going +on, and puffs out his upper lip without a bark. + +_Boccaccio._ These creatures are more accessible to temperate and just +rebuke than the creatures of our species, usually angry with less +reason, and from no sense, as dogs are, of duty. Look into that white +arcade! Surely it was white the other day; and now I perceive it is +still so: the setting sun tinges it with yellow. + +_Petrarca._ The house has nothing of either the rustic or the +magnificent about it; nothing quite regular, nothing much varied. If +there is anything at all affecting, as I fear there is, in the story +you are about to tell me, I could wish the edifice itself bore +externally some little of the interesting that I might hereafter turn +my mind toward it, looking out of the catastrophe, though not away +from it. But I do not even find the peculiar and uncostly decoration +of our Tuscan villas: the central turret, round which the kite +perpetually circles in search of pigeons or smaller prey, borne +onward, like the Flemish skater, by effortless will in motionless +progression. The view of Fiesole must be lovely from that window; but +I fancy to myself it loses the cascade under the single high arch of +the Mugnone. + +_Boccaccio._ I think so. In this villa--come rather farther off: the +inhabitants of it may hear us, if they should happen to be in the +arbour, as most people are at the present hour of day--in this villa, +Messer Francesco, lives Monna Tita Monalda, who tenderly loved Amadeo +degli Oricellari. She, however, was reserved and coy; and Father +Pietro de' Pucci, an enemy to the family of Amadeo, told her nevermore +to think of him, for that, just before he knew her, he had thrown his +arm round the neck of Nunciata Righi, his mother's maid, calling her +most immodestly a sweet creature, and of a whiteness that marble would +split with envy at. + +Monna Tita trembled and turned pale. 'Father, is the girl really so +very fair?' said she anxiously. + +'Madonna,' replied the father, 'after confession she is not much +amiss: white she is, with a certain tint of pink not belonging to her, +but coming over her as through the wing of an angel pleased at the +holy function; and her breath is such, the very ear smells it: poor, +innocent, sinful soul! Hei! The wretch, Amadeo, would have endangered +her salvation.' + +'She must be a wicked girl to let him,' said Monna Tita. 'A young man +of good parentage and education would not dare to do such a thing of +his own accord. I will see him no more, however. But it was before he +knew me: and it may not be true. I cannot think any young woman would +let a young man do so, even in the last hour before Lent. Now in what +month was it supposed to be?' + +'Supposed to be!' cried the father indignantly: 'in June; I say in +June.' + +'Oh! that now is quite impossible: for on the second of July, +forty-one days from this, and at this very hour of it, he swore to me +eternal love and constancy. I will inquire of him whether it is true: +I will charge him with it.' + +She did. Amadeo confessed his fault, and, thinking it a venial one, +would have taken and kissed her hand as he asked forgiveness. + +_Petrarca._ Children! children! I will go into the house, and if their +relatives, as I suppose, have approved of the marriage, I will +endeavour to persuade the young lady that a fault like this, on the +repentance of her lover, is not unpardonable. But first, is Amadeo a +young man of loose habits? + +_Boccaccio._ Less than our others: in fact, I never heard of any +deviation, excepting this. + +_Petrarca._ Come, then, with me. + +_Boccaccio._ Wait a little. + +_Petrarca._ I hope the modest Tita, after a trial, will not be too +severe with him. + +_Boccaccio._ Severity is far from her nature; but, such is her purity +and innocence, she shed many and bitter tears at his confession, and +declared her unalterable determination of taking the veil among the +nuns of Fiesole. Amadeo fell at her feet, and wept upon them. She +pushed him from her gently, and told him she would still love him if +he would follow her example, leave the world, and become a friar of +San Marco. Amadeo was speechless; and, if he had not been so, he never +would have made a promise he intended to violate. She retired from +him. After a time he arose, less wounded than benumbed by the sharp +uncovered stones in the garden-walk; and, as a man who fears to fall +from a precipice goes farther from it than is necessary, so did Amadeo +shun the quarter where the gate is, and, oppressed by his agony and +despair, throw his arms across the sundial and rest his brow upon it, +hot as it must have been on a cloudless day in August. When the +evening was about to close, he was aroused by the cries of rooks +overhead; they flew towards Florence, and beyond; he, too, went back +into the city. + +Tita fell sick from her inquietude. Every morning ere sunrise did +Amadeo return; but could hear only from the labourers in the field +that Monna Tita was ill, because she had promised to take the veil and +had not taken it, knowing, as she must do, that the heavenly +bridegroom is a bridegroom never to be trifled with, let the spouse be +young and beautiful as she may be. Amadeo had often conversed with the +peasant of the farm, who much pitied so worthy and loving a gentleman; +and, finding him one evening fixing some thick and high stakes in the +ground, offered to help him. After due thanks, 'It is time,' said the +peasant, 'to rebuild the hovel and watch the grapes.' + +'This is my house,' cried he. 'Could I never, in my stupidity, think +about rebuilding it before? Bring me another mat or two: I will sleep +here to-night, to-morrow night, every night, all autumn, all winter.' + +He slept there, and was consoled at last by hearing that Monna Tita +was out of danger, and recovering from her illness by spiritual means. +His heart grew lighter day after day. Every evening did he observe the +rooks, in the same order, pass along the same track in the heavens, +just over San Marco; and it now occurred to him, after three weeks, +indeed, that Monna Tita had perhaps some strange idea, in choosing his +monastery, not unconnected with the passage of these birds. He grew +calmer upon it, until he asked himself whether he might hope. In the +midst of this half-meditation, half-dream, his whole frame was shaken +by the voices, however low and gentle, of two monks, coming from the +villa and approaching him. He would have concealed himself under this +bank whereon we are standing; but they saw him, and called him by +name. He now perceived that the younger of them was Guiberto Oddi, +with whom he had been at school about six or seven years ago, and who +admired him for his courage and frankness when he was almost a child. + +'Do not let us mortify poor Amadeo,' said Guiberto to his companion. +'Return to the road: I will speak a few words to him, and engage him +(I trust) to comply with reason and yield to necessity.' The elder +monk, who saw he should have to climb the hill again, assented to the +proposal, and went into the road. After the first embraces and few +words, 'Amadeo! Amadeo!' said Guiberto, 'it was love that made me a +friar; let anything else make you one.' + +'Kind heart!' replied Amadeo. 'If death or religion, or hatred of me, +deprives me of Tita Monalda, I will die, where she commanded me, in +the cowl. It is you who prepare her, then, to throw away her life and +mine!' + +'Hold! Amadeo!' said Guiberto, 'I officiate together with good Father +Fontesecco, who invariably falls asleep amid our holy function.' + +Now, Messer Francesco, I must inform you that Father Fontesecco has +the heart of a flower. It feels nothing, it wants nothing; it is pure +and simple, and full of its own little light. Innocent as a child, as +an angel, nothing ever troubled him but how to devise what he should +confess. A confession costs him more trouble to invent than any +Giornata in my _Decameron_ cost me. He was once overheard to say on +this occasion, 'God forgive me in His infinite mercy, for making it +appear that I am a little worse than He has chosen I should be!' He is +temperate; for he never drinks more than exactly half the wine and +water set before him. In fact, he drinks the wine and leaves the +water, saying: 'We have the same water up at San Domenico; we send it +hither: it would be uncivil to take back our own gift, and still more +to leave a suspicion that we thought other people's wine poor +beverage.' Being afflicted by the gravel, the physician of his convent +advised him, as he never was fond of wine, to leave it off entirely; +on which he said, 'I know few things; but this I know well--in water +there is often gravel, in wine never. It hath pleased God to afflict +me, and even to go a little out of His way in order to do it, for the +greater warning to other sinners. I will drink wine, brother +Anselmini, and help His work.' + +I have led you away from the younger monk. + +'While Father Fontesecco is in the first stage of beatitude, chanting +through his nose the _Benedicite_, I will attempt,' said Guiberto, 'to +comfort Monna Tita.' + +'Good, blessed Guiberto!' exclaimed Amadeo in a transport of +gratitude, at which Guiberto smiled with his usual grace and suavity. +'O Guiberto! Guiberto! my heart is breaking. Why should she want you +to comfort her?--but--comfort her then!' and he covered his face +within his hands. + +'Remember,' said Guiberto placidly, 'her uncle is bedridden; her aunt +never leaves him; the servants are old and sullen, and will stir for +nobody. Finding her resolved, as they believe, to become a nun, they +are little assiduous in their services. Humour her, if none else does, +Amadeo; let her fancy that you intend to be a friar; and, for the +present, walk not on these grounds.' + +'Are you true, or are you traitorous?' cried Amadeo, grasping his +friend's hand most fiercely. + +'Follow your own counsel, if you think mine insincere,' said the young +friar, not withdrawing his hand, but placing the other on Amadeo's. +'Let me, however, advise you to conceal yourself; and I will direct +Silvestrina to bring you such accounts of her mistress as may at least +make you easy in regard to her health. Adieu.' + +Amadeo was now rather tranquil; more than he had ever been, not only +since the displeasure of Monna Tita, but since the first sight of her. +Profuse at all times in his gratitude to Silvestrina, whenever she +brought him good news, news better than usual, he pressed her to his +bosom. Silvestrina Pioppi is about fifteen, slender, fresh, +intelligent, lively, good-humoured, sensitive; and any one but Amadeo +might call her very pretty. + +_Petrarca._ Ah, Giovanni! here I find your heart obtaining the mastery +over your vivid and volatile imagination. Well have you said, the +maiden being really pretty, any one but Amadeo might think her so. On +the banks of the Sorga there are beautiful maids; the woods and the +rocks have a thousand times repeated it. I heard but one echo; I heard +but one name: I would have fled from them for ever at another. + +_Boccaccio._ Francesco, do not beat your breast just now: wait a +little. Monna Tita would take the veil. The fatal certainty was +announced to Amadeo by his true Guiberto, who had earnestly and +repeatedly prayed her to consider the thing a few months longer. + +'I will see her first! By all the saints of heaven I will see her!' +cried the desperate Amadeo, and ran into the house, toward the still +apartment of his beloved. Fortunately Guiberto was neither less active +nor less strong than he, and overtaking him at the moment, drew him +into the room opposite. 'If you will be quiet and reasonable, there is +yet a possibility left you,' said Guiberto in his ear, although +perhaps he did not think it. 'But if you utter a voice or are seen by +any one, you ruin the fame of her you love, and obstruct your own +prospects for ever. It being known that you have not slept in Florence +these several nights, it will be suspected by the malicious that you +have slept in the villa with the connivance of Monna Tita. Compose +yourself; answer nothing; rest where you are: do not add a worse +imprudence to a very bad one. I promise you my assistance, my speedy +return, and best counsel: you shall be released at daybreak.' He +ordered Silvestrina to supply the unfortunate youth with the cordials +usually administered to the uncle, or with the rich old wine they were +made of; and she performed the order with such promptitude and +attention, that he was soon in some sort refreshed. + +_Petrarca._ I pity him from my innermost heart, poor young man! Alas, +we are none of us, by original sin, free from infirmities or from +vices. + +_Boccaccio._ If we could find a man exempt by nature from vices and +infirmities, we should find one not worth knowing: he would also be +void of tenderness and compassion. What allowances then could his best +friends expect from him in their frailties? What help, consolation, +and assistance in their misfortunes? We are in the midst of a workshop +well stored with sharp instruments: we may do ill with many, unless we +take heed; and good with all, if we will but learn how to employ them. + +_Petrarca._ There is somewhat of reason in this. You strengthen me to +proceed with you: I can bear the rest. + +_Boccaccio._ Guiberto had taken leave of his friend, and had advanced +a quarter of a mile, which (as you perceive) is nearly the whole way, +on his return to the monastery, when he was overtaken by some peasants +who were hastening homeward from Florence. The information he +collected from them made him determine to retrace his steps. He +entered the room again, and, from the intelligence he had just +acquired, gave Amadeo the assurance that Monna Tita must delay her +entrance into the convent; for that the abbess had that moment gone +down the hill on her way toward Siena to venerate some holy relics, +carrying with her three candles, each five feet long, to burn before +them; which candles contained many particles of the myrrh presented at +the Nativity of our Saviour by the Wise Men of the East. Amadeo +breathed freely, and was persuaded by Guiberto to take another cup of +old wine, and to eat with him some cold roast kid, which had been +offered him for _merenda_. After the agitation of his mind a heavy +sleep fell upon the lover, coming almost before Guiberto departed: so +heavy indeed that Silvestrina was alarmed. It was her apartment; and +she performed the honours of it as well as any lady in Florence could +have done. + +_Petrarca._ I easily believe it: the poor are more attentive than the +rich, and the young are more compassionate than the old. + +_Boccaccio._ O Francesco! what inconsistent creatures are we! + +_Petrarca._ True, indeed! I now foresee the end. He might have done +worse. + +_Boccaccio._ I think so. + +_Petrarca._ He almost deserved it. + +_Boccaccio._ I think that too. + +_Petrarca._ Wretched mortals! our passions for ever lead us into this, +or worse. + +_Boccaccio._ Ay, truly; much worse generally. + +_Petrarca._ The very twig on which the flowers grew lately scourges us +to the bone in its maturity. + +_Boccaccio._ Incredible will it be to you, and, by my faith, to me it +was hardly credible. Certain, however, is it that Guiberto on his +return by sunrise found Amadeo in the arms of sleep. + +_Petrarca._ Not at all, not at all: the truest lover might suffer and +act as he did. + +_Boccaccio._ But, Francesco, there was another pair of arms about him, +worth twenty such, divinity as he is. A loud burst of laughter from +Guiberto did not arouse either of the parties; but Monna Tita heard +it, and rushed into the room, tearing her hair, and invoking the +saints of heaven against the perfidy of man. She seized Silvestrina by +that arm which appeared the most offending: the girl opened her eyes, +turned on her face, rolled out of bed, and threw herself at the feet +of her mistress, shedding tears, and wiping them away with the only +piece of linen about her. Monna Tita too shed tears. Amadeo still +slept profoundly; a flush, almost of crimson, overspreading his +cheeks. Monna Tita led away, after some pause, poor Silvestrina, and +made her confess the whole. She then wept more and more, and made the +girl confess it again, and explain her confession. 'I cannot believe +such wickedness,' she cried: 'he could not be so hardened. O sinful +Silvestrina! how will you ever tell Father Doni one half, one quarter? +He never can absolve you.' + +_Petrarca._ Giovanni, I am glad I did not enter the house; you were +prudent in restraining me. I have no pity for the youth at all: never +did one so deserve to lose a mistress. + +_Boccaccio._ Say, rather, to gain a wife. + +_Petrarca._ Absurdity! impossibility! + +_Boccaccio._ He won her fairly; strangely, and on a strange table, as +he played his game. Listen! that guitar is Monna Tita's. Listen! what +a fine voice (do not you think it?) is Amadeo's. + +_Amadeo._ [_Singing._] + + Oh, I have err'd! + I laid my hand upon the nest + (Tita, I sigh to sing the rest) + Of the wrong bird. + +_Petrarca._ She laughs too at it! Ah! Monna Tita was made by nature to +live on this side of Fiesole. + + + + +BOSSUET AND THE DUCHESS DE FONTANGES + + +_Bossuet._ Mademoiselle, it is the king's desire that I compliment you +on the elevation you have attained. + +_Fontanges._ O monseigneur, I know very well what you mean. His +Majesty is kind and polite to everybody. The last thing he said to me +was, 'Angelique! do not forget to compliment Monseigneur the bishop on +the dignity I have conferred upon him, of almoner to the dauphiness. I +desired the appointment for him only that he might be of rank +sufficient to confess, now you are duchess. Let him be your confessor, +my little girl.' + +_Bossuet._ I dare not presume to ask you, mademoiselle, what was your +gracious reply to the condescension of our royal master. + +_Fontanges._ Oh, yes! you may. I told him I was almost sure I should +be ashamed of confessing such naughty things to a person of high rank, +who writes like an angel. + +_Bossuet._ The observation was inspired, mademoiselle, by your +goodness and modesty. + +_Fontanges._ You are so agreeable a man, monseigneur, I will confess +to you, directly, if you like. + +_Bossuet._ Have you brought yourself to a proper frame of mind, young +lady? + +_Fontanges._ What is that? + +_Bossuet._ Do you hate sin? + +_Fontanges._ Very much. + +_Bossuet._ Are you resolved to leave it off? + +_Fontanges._ I have left it off entirely since the king began to love +me. I have never said a spiteful word of anybody since. + +_Bossuet._ In your opinion, mademoiselle, are there no other sins than +malice? + +_Fontanges._ I never stole anything; I never committed adultery; I +never coveted my neighbour's wife; I never killed any person, though +several have told me they should die for me. + +_Bossuet._ Vain, idle talk! Did you listen to it? + +_Fontanges._ Indeed I did, with both ears; it seemed so funny. + +_Bossuet._ You have something to answer for, then. + +_Fontanges._ No, indeed, I have not, monseigneur. I have asked many +times after them, and found they were all alive, which mortified me. + +_Bossuet._ So, then! you would really have them die for you? + +_Fontanges._ Oh, no, no! but I wanted to see whether they were in +earnest, or told me fibs; for, if they told me fibs, I would never +trust them again. + +_Bossuet._ Do you hate the world, mademoiselle? + +_Fontanges._ A good deal of it: all Picardy, for example, and all +Sologne; nothing is uglier--and, oh my life! what frightful men and +women! + +_Bossuet._ I would say, in plain language, do you hate the flesh and +the devil? + +_Fontanges._ Who does not hate the devil? If you will hold my hand the +while, I will tell him so. I hate you, beast! There now. As for flesh, +I never could bear a fat man. Such people can neither dance nor hunt, +nor do anything that I know of. + +_Bossuet._ Mademoiselle Marie-Angelique de Scoraille de Rousille, +Duchess de Fontanges! do you hate titles and dignities and yourself? + +_Fontanges._ Myself! does any one hate me? Why should I be the first? +Hatred is the worst thing in the world: it makes one so very ugly. + +_Bossuet._ To love God, we must hate ourselves. We must detest our +bodies, if we would save our souls. + +_Fontanges._ That is hard: how can I do it? I see nothing so +detestable in mine. Do you? To love is easier. I love God whenever I +think of Him, He has been so very good to me; but I cannot hate +myself, if I would. As God hath not hated me, why should I? Beside, it +was He who made the king to love me; for I heard you say in a sermon +that the hearts of kings are in His rule and governance. As for titles +and dignities, I do not care much about them while his Majesty loves +me, and calls me his Angelique. They make people more civil about us; +and therefore it must be a simpleton who hates or disregards them, and +a hypocrite who pretends it. I am glad to be a duchess. Manon and +Lisette have never tied my garter so as to hurt me since, nor has the +mischievous old La Grange said anything cross or bold: on the +contrary, she told me what a fine colour and what a plumpness it gave +me. Would not you rather be a duchess than a waiting-maid or a nun, if +the king gave you your choice? + +_Bossuet._ Pardon me, mademoiselle, I am confounded at the levity of +your question. + +_Fontanges._ I am in earnest, as you see. + +_Bossuet._ Flattery will come before you in other and more dangerous +forms: you will be commended for excellences which do not belong to +you; and this you will find as injurious to your repose as to your +virtue. An ingenuous mind feels in unmerited praise the bitterest +reproof. If you reject it, you are unhappy; if you accept it, you are +undone. The compliments of a king are of themselves sufficient to +pervert your intellect. + +_Fontanges._ There you are mistaken twice over. It is not my person +that pleases him so greatly: it is my spirit, my wit, my talents, my +genius, and that very thing which you have mentioned--what was it? my +intellect. He never complimented me the least upon my beauty. Others +have said that I am the most beautiful young creature under heaven; a +blossom of Paradise, a nymph, an angel; worth (let me whisper it in +your ear--do I lean too hard?) a thousand Montespans. But his Majesty +never said more on the occasion than that I was _imparagonable!_ (what +is that?) and that he adored me; holding my hand and sitting quite +still, when he might have romped with me and kissed me. + +_Bossuet._ I would aspire to the glory of converting you. + +_Fontanges._ You may do anything with me but convert me: you must not +do that; I am a Catholic born. M. de Turenne and Mademoiselle de Duras +were heretics: you did right there. The king told the chancellor that +he prepared them, that the business was arranged for you, and that you +had nothing to do but get ready the arguments and responses, which you +did gallantly--did not you? And yet Mademoiselle de Duras was very +awkward for a long while afterwards in crossing herself, and was once +remarked to beat her breast in the litany with the points of two +fingers at a time, when every one is taught to use only the second, +whether it has a ring upon it or not. I am sorry she did so; for +people might think her insincere in her conversion, and pretend that +she kept a finger for each religion. + +_Bossuet._ It would be as uncharitable to doubt the conviction of +Mademoiselle de Duras as that of M. le Marechal. + +_Fontanges._ I have heard some fine verses, I can assure you, +monseigneur, in which you are called the conqueror of Turenne. I +should like to have been his conqueror myself, he was so great a man. +I understand that you have lately done a much more difficult thing. + +_Bossuet._ To what do you refer, mademoiselle? + +_Fontanges._ That you have overcome quietism. Now, in the name of +wonder, how could you manage that? + +_Bossuet._ By the grace of God. + +_Fontanges._ Yes, indeed; but never until now did God give any +preacher so much of His grace as to subdue this pest. + +_Bossuet._ It has appeared among us but lately. + +_Fontanges._ Oh, dear me! I have always been subject to it dreadfully, +from a child. + +_Bossuet._ Really! I never heard so. + +_Fontanges._ I checked myself as well as I could, although they +constantly told me I looked well in it. + +_Bossuet._ In what, mademoiselle? + +_Fontanges._ In quietism; that is, when I fell asleep at sermon time. +I am ashamed that such a learned and pious man as M. de Fenelon should +incline to it,[1] as they say he does. + +_Bossuet._ Mademoiselle, you quite mistake the matter. + +_Fontanges._ Is not then M. de Fenelon thought a very pious and +learned person? + +_Bossuet._ And justly. + +_Fontanges._ I have read a great way in a romance he has begun, about +a knight-errant in search of a father. The king says there are many +such about his court; but I never saw them nor heard of them before. +The Marchioness de la Motte, his relative, brought it to me, written +out in a charming hand, as much as the copy-book would hold; and I got +through, I know not how far. If he had gone on with the nymphs in the +grotto, I never should have been tired of him; but he quite forgot his +own story, and left them at once; in a hurry (I suppose) to set out +upon his mission to Saintonge in the _pays de d'Aunis_, where the king +has promised him a famous _heretic hunt_. He is, I do assure you, a +wonderful creature: he understands so much Latin and Greek, and knows +all the tricks of the sorceresses. Yet you keep him under. + +_Bossuet._ Mademoiselle, if you really have anything to confess, and +if you desire that I should have the honour of absolving you, it would +be better to proceed in it, than to oppress me with unmerited eulogies +on my humble labours. + +_Fontanges._ You must first direct me, monseigneur: I have nothing +particular. The king assures me there is no harm whatever in his love +toward me. + +_Bossuet._ That depends on your thoughts at the moment. If you +abstract the mind from the body, and turn your heart toward Heaven---- + +_Fontanges._ O monseigneur, I always did so--every time but once--you +quite make me blush. Let us converse about something else, or I shall +grow too serious, just as you made me the other day at the funeral +sermon. And now let me tell you, my lord, you compose such pretty +funeral sermons, I hope I shall have the pleasure of hearing you +preach mine. + +_Bossuet._ Rather let us hope, mademoiselle, that the hour is yet far +distant when so melancholy a service will be performed for you. May he +who is unborn be the sad announcer of your departure hence![2] May he +indicate to those around him many virtues not perhaps yet full-blown +in you, and point triumphantly to many faults and foibles checked by +you in their early growth, and lying dead on the open road, you shall +have left behind you! To me the painful duty will, I trust, be +spared: I am advanced in age; you are a child. + +_Fontanges._ Oh, no! I am seventeen. + +_Bossuet._ I should have supposed you younger by two years at least. +But do you collect nothing from your own reflection, which raises so +many in my breast? You think it possible that I, aged as I am, may +preach a sermon at your funeral. We say that our days are few; and +saying it, we say too much. Marie-Angelique, we have but one: the past +are not ours, and who can promise us the future? This in which we live +is ours only while we live in it; the next moment may strike it off +from us; the next sentence I would utter may be broken and fall +between us.[3] The beauty that has made a thousand hearts to beat at +one instant, at the succeeding has been without pulse and colour, +without admirer, friend, companion, follower. She by whose eyes the +march of victory shall have been directed, whose name shall have +animated armies at the extremities of the earth, drops into one of its +crevices and mingles with its dust. Duchess de Fontanges! think on +this! Lady! so live as to think on it undisturbed! + +_Fontanges._ O God! I am quite alarmed. Do not talk thus gravely. It +is in vain that you speak to me in so sweet a voice. I am frightened +even at the rattle of the beads about my neck: take them off, and let +us talk on other things. What was it that dropped on the floor as you +were speaking? It seemed to shake the room, though it sounded like a +pin or button. + +_Bossuet._ Leave it there! + +_Fontanges._ Your ring fell from your hand, my lord bishop! How quick +you are! Could not you have trusted me to pick it up? + +_Bossuet._ Madame is too condescending: had this happened, I should +have been overwhelmed with confusion. My hand is shrivelled: the ring +has ceased to fit it. A mere accident may draw us into perdition; a +mere accident may bestow on us the means of grace. A pebble has moved +you more than my words. + +_Fontanges._ It pleases me vastly: I admire rubies. I will ask the +king for one exactly like it. This is the time he usually comes from +the chase. I am sorry you cannot be present to hear how prettily I +shall ask him: but that is impossible, you know; for I shall do it +just when I am certain he would give me anything. He said so himself: +he said but yesterday-- + + 'Such a sweet creature is worth a world': + +and no actor on the stage was more like a king than his Majesty was +when he spoke it, if he had but kept his wig and robe on. And yet you +know he is rather stiff and wrinkled for so great a monarch; and his +eyes, I am afraid, are beginning to fail him, he looks so close at +things. + +_Bossuet._ Mademoiselle, such is the duty of a prince who desires to +conciliate our regard and love. + +_Fontanges._ Well, I think so, too, though I did not like it in him at +first. I am sure he will order the ring for me, and I will confess to +you with it upon my finger. But first I must be cautious and +particular to know of him how much it is his royal will that I should +say. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The opinions of Molinos on Mysticism and Quietism had begun to +spread abroad; but Fenelon, who had acquired already a very high +celebrity for eloquence, had not yet written on the subject. We may +well suppose that Bossuet was among the earliest assailants of a +system which he afterward attacked so vehemently. + +[2] Bossuet was in his fifty-fourth year; Mademoiselle de Fontanges +died in child-bed the year following: he survived her twenty-three +years. + +[3] Though Bossuet was capable of uttering and even of feeling such a +sentiment, his conduct towards Fenelon, the fairest apparition that +Christianity ever presented, was ungenerous and unjust. + +While the diocese of Cambray was ravaged by Louis, it was spared by +Marlborough; who said to the archbishop that, if he was sorry he had +not taken Cambray, it was chiefly because he lost for a time the +pleasure of visiting so great a man. Peterborough, the next of our +generals in glory, paid his respects to him some years afterward. + + + + +JOHN OF GAUNT AND JOANNA OF KENT + + + Joanna, called the Fair Maid of Kent, was cousin of + the Black Prince, whom she married. John of Gaunt was + suspected of aiming at the crown in the beginning of + Richard's minority, which, increasing the hatred of + the people against him for favouring the sect of + Wickliffe, excited them to demolish his house and to + demand his impeachment. + +_Joanna._ How is this, my cousin, that you are besieged in your own +house by the citizens of London? I thought you were their idol. + +_Gaunt._ If their idol, madam, I am one which they may tread on as +they list when down; but which, by my soul and knighthood! the ten +best battle-axes among them shall find it hard work to unshrine. + +Pardon me: I have no right, perhaps, to take or touch this hand; yet, +my sister, bricks and stones and arrows are not presents fit for you. +Let me conduct you some paces hence. + +_Joanna._ I will speak to those below in the street. Quit my hand: +they shall obey me. + +_Gaunt._ If you intend to order my death, madam, your guards who have +entered my court, and whose spurs and halberts I hear upon the +staircase, may overpower my domestics; and, seeing no such escape as +becomes my dignity, I submit to you. Behold my sword and gauntlet at +your feet! Some formalities, I trust, will be used in the proceedings +against me. Entitle me, in my attainder, not John of Gaunt, not Duke +of Lancaster, not King of Castile; nor commemorate my father, the most +glorious of princes, the vanquisher and pardoner of the most powerful; +nor style me, what those who loved or who flattered me did when I was +happier, cousin to the Fair Maid of Kent. Joanna, those days are over! +But no enemy, no law, no eternity can take away from me, or move +further off, my affinity in blood to the conqueror in the field of +Crecy, of Poitiers, and Najera. Edward was my brother when he was but +your cousin; and the edge of my shield has clinked on his in many a +battle. Yes, we were ever near--if not in worth, in danger. She weeps. + +_Joanna._ Attainder! God avert it! Duke of Lancaster, what dark +thought--alas! that the Regency should have known it! I came hither, +sir, for no such purpose as to ensnare or incriminate or alarm you. + +These weeds might surely have protected me from the fresh tears you +have drawn forth. + +_Gaunt._ Sister, be comforted! this visor, too, has felt them. + +_Joanna._ O my Edward! my own so lately! Thy memory--thy beloved +image--which never hath abandoned me, makes me bold: I dare not say +'generous'; for in saying it I should cease to be so--and who could be +called generous by the side of thee? I will rescue from perdition the +enemy of my son. + +Cousin, you loved your brother. Love, then, what was dearer to him +than his life: protect what he, valiant as you have seen him, cannot! +The father, who foiled so many, hath left no enemies; the innocent +child, who can injure no one, finds them! + +Why have you unlaced and laid aside your visor? Do not expose your +body to those missiles. Hold your shield before yourself, and step +aside. I need it not. I am resolved---- + +_Gaunt._ On what, my cousin? Speak, and, by the saints! it shall be +done. This breast is your shield; this arm is mine. + +_Joanna._ Heavens! who could have hurled those masses of stone from +below? they stunned me. Did they descend all of them together; or did +they split into fragments on hitting the pavement? + +_Gaunt._ Truly, I was not looking that way: they came, I must believe, +while you were speaking. + +_Joanna._ Aside, aside! further back! disregard _me_! Look! that last +arrow sticks half its head deep in the wainscot. It shook so violently +I did not see the feather at first. + +No, no, Lancaster! I will not permit it. Take your shield up again; +and keep it all before you. Now step aside: I am resolved to prove +whether the people will hear me. + +_Gaunt._ Then, madam, by your leave---- + +_Joanna._ Hold! + +_Gaunt._ Villains! take back to your kitchens those spits and skewers +that you, forsooth, would fain call swords and arrows; and keep your +bricks and stones for your graves! + +_Joanna._ Imprudent man! who can save you? I shall be frightened: I +must speak at once. + +O good kind people! ye who so greatly loved me, when I am sure I had +done nothing to deserve it, have I (unhappy me!) no merit with you +now, when I would assuage your anger, protect your fair fame, and send +you home contented with yourselves and me? Who is he, worthy citizens, +whom ye would drag to slaughter? + +True, indeed, he did revile someone. Neither I nor you can say +whom--some feaster and rioter, it seems, who had little right (he +thought) to carry sword or bow, and who, to show it, hath slunk away. +And then another raised his anger: he was indignant that, under his +roof, a woman should be exposed to stoning. Which of you would not be +as choleric in a like affront? In the house of which among you should +I not be protected as resolutely? + +No, no: I never can believe those angry cries. Let none ever tell me +again he is the enemy of my son, of his king, your darling child, +Richard. Are your fears more lively than a poor weak female's? than a +mother's? yours, whom he hath so often led to victory, and praised to +his father, naming each--he, John of Gaunt, the defender of the +helpless, the comforter of the desolate, the rallying signal of the +desperately brave! + +Retire, Duke of Lancaster! This is no time---- + +_Gaunt._ Madam, I obey; but not through terror of that puddle at the +house door, which my handful of dust would dry up. Deign to command +me! + +_Joanna._ In the name of my son, then, retire! + +_Gaunt._ Angelic goodness! I must fairly win it. + +_Joanna._ I think I know his voice that crieth out: 'Who will answer +for him?' An honest and loyal man's, one who would counsel and save me +in any difficulty and danger. With what pleasure and satisfaction, +with what perfect joy and confidence, do I answer our right-trusty and +well-judging friend! + +'Let Lancaster bring his sureties,' say you, 'and we separate.' A +moment yet before we separate; if I might delay you so long, to +receive your sanction of those securities: for, in such grave matters, +it would ill become us to be over-hasty. I could bring fifty, I could +bring a hundred, not from among soldiers, not from among courtiers; +but selected from yourselves, were it equitable and fair to show such +partialities, or decorous in the parent and guardian of a king to +offer any other than herself. + +Raised by the hand of the Almighty from amidst you, but still one of +you, if the mother of a family is a part of it, here I stand surety +for John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, for his loyalty and allegiance. + +_Gaunt._ [_Running back toward Joanna._] Are the rioters, then, +bursting into the chamber through the windows? + +_Joanna._ The windows and doors of this solid edifice rattled and +shook at the people's acclamation. My word is given for you: this was +theirs in return. Lancaster! what a voice have the people when they +speak out! It shakes me with astonishment, almost with consternation, +while it establishes the throne: what must it be when it is lifted up +in vengeance! + +_Gaunt._ Wind; vapour---- + +_Joanna._ Which none can wield nor hold. Need I say this to my cousin +of Lancaster? + +_Gaunt._ Rather say, madam, that there is always one star above which +can tranquillize and control them. + +_Joanna._ Go, cousin! another time more sincerity! + +_Gaunt._ You have this day saved my life from the people; for I now +see my danger better, when it is no longer close before me. My Christ! +if ever I forget---- + +_Joanna._ Swear not: every man in England hath sworn what you would +swear. But if you abandon my Richard, my brave and beautiful child, +may--Oh! I could never curse, nor wish an evil; but, if you desert him +in the hour of need, you will think of those who have not deserted +you, and your own great heart will lie heavy on you, Lancaster! + +Am I graver than I ought to be, that you look dejected? Come, then, +gentle cousin, lead me to my horse, and accompany me home. Richard +will embrace us tenderly. Every one is dear to every other upon rising +out fresh from peril; affectionately then will he look, sweet boy, +upon his mother and his uncle! Never mind how many questions he may +ask you, nor how strange ones. His only displeasure, if he has any, +will be that he stood not against the rioters or among them. + +_Gaunt._ Older than he have been as fond of mischief, and as fickle in +the choice of a party. + +I shall tell him that, coming to blows, the assailant is often in the +right; that the assailed is always. + + + + +LEOFRIC AND GODIVA + + +_Godiva._ There is a dearth in the land, my sweet Leofric! Remember +how many weeks of drought we have had, even in the deep pastures of +Leicestershire; and how many Sundays we have heard the same prayers +for rain, and supplications that it would please the Lord in His mercy +to turn aside His anger from the poor, pining cattle. You, my dear +husband, have imprisoned more than one malefactor for leaving his dead +ox in the public way; and other hinds have fled before you out of the +traces, in which they, and their sons and their daughters, and haply +their old fathers and mothers, were dragging the abandoned wain +homeward. Although we were accompanied by many brave spearmen and +skilful archers, it was perilous to pass the creatures which the +farmyard dogs, driven from the hearth by the poverty of their masters, +were tearing and devouring; while others, bitten and lamed, filled the +air either with long and deep howls or sharp and quick barkings, as +they struggled with hunger and feebleness, or were exasperated by heat +and pain. Nor could the thyme from the heath, nor the bruised branches +of the fir-tree, extinguish or abate the foul odour. + +_Leofric._ And now, Godiva, my darling, thou art afraid we should be +eaten up before we enter the gates of Coventry; or perchance that in +the gardens there are no roses to greet thee, no sweet herbs for thy +mat and pillow. + +_Godiva._ Leofric, I have no such fears. This is the month of roses: I +find them everywhere since my blessed marriage. They, and all other +sweet herbs, I know not why, seem to greet me wherever I look at them, +as though they knew and expected me. Surely they cannot feel that I am +fond of them. + +_Leofric._ O light, laughing simpleton! But what wouldst thou? I came +not hither to pray; and yet if praying would satisfy thee, or remove +the drought, I would ride up straightway to Saint Michael's and pray +until morning. + +_Godiva._ I would do the same, O Leofric! but God hath turned away His +ear from holier lips than mine. Would my own dear husband hear me, if +I implored him for what is easier to accomplish--what he can do like +God? + +_Leofric._ How! what is it? + +_Godiva._ I would not, in the first hurry of your wrath, appeal to +you, my loving lord, on behalf of these unhappy men who have offended +you. + +_Leofric._ Unhappy! is that all? + +_Godiva._ Unhappy they must surely be, to have offended you so +grievously. What a soft air breathes over us! how quiet and serene and +still an evening! how calm are the heavens and the earth! Shall none +enjoy them; not even we, my Leofric? The sun is ready to set: let it +never set, O Leofric, on your anger. These are not my words: they are +better than mine. Should they lose their virtue from my unworthiness +in uttering them? + +_Leofric._ Godiva, wouldst thou plead to me for rebels? + +_Godiva._ They have, then, drawn the sword against you? Indeed, I knew +it not. + +_Leofric._ They have omitted to send me my dues, established by my +ancestors, well knowing of our nuptials, and of the charges and +festivities they require, and that in a season of such scarcity my own +lands are insufficient. + +_Godiva._ If they were starving, as they said they were---- + +_Leofric._ Must I starve too? Is it not enough to lose my vassals? + +_Godiva._ Enough! O God! too much! too much! May you never lose them! +Give them life, peace, comfort, contentment. There are those among +them who kissed me in my infancy, and who blessed me at the baptismal +font. Leofric, Leofric! the first old man I meet I shall think is one +of those; and I shall think on the blessing he gave, and (ah me!) on +the blessing I bring back to him. My heart will bleed, will burst; and +he will weep at it! he will weep, poor soul, for the wife of a cruel +lord who denounces vengeance on him, who carries death into his +family! + +_Leofric._ We must hold solemn festivals. + +_Godiva._ We must, indeed. + +_Leofric._ Well, then? + +_Godiva._ Is the clamorousness that succeeds the death of God's dumb +creatures, are crowded halls, are slaughtered cattle festivals?--are +maddening songs, and giddy dances, and hireling praises from +parti-coloured coats? Can the voice of a minstrel tell us better +things of ourselves than our own internal one might tell us; or can +his breath make our breath softer in sleep? O my beloved! let +everything be a joyance to us: it will, if we will. Sad is the day, +and worse must follow, when we hear the blackbird in the garden, and +do not throb with joy. But, Leofric, the high festival is strown by +the servant of God upon the heart of man. It is gladness, it is +thanksgiving; it is the orphan, the starveling, pressed to the bosom, +and bidden as its first commandment to remember its benefactor. We +will hold this festival; the guests are ready: we may keep it up for +weeks, and months, and years together, and always be the happier and +the richer for it. The beverage of this feast, O Leofric, is sweeter +than bee or flower or vine can give us: it flows from heaven; and in +heaven will it abundantly be poured out again to him who pours it out +here abundantly. + +_Leofric._ Thou art wild. + +_Godiva._ I have, indeed, lost myself. Some Power, some good kind +Power, melts me (body and soul and voice) into tenderness and love. O +my husband, we must obey it. Look upon me! look upon me! lift your +sweet eyes from the ground! I will not cease to supplicate; I dare +not. + +_Leofric._ We may think upon it. + +_Godiva._ Oh, never say that! What! think upon goodness when you can +be good? Let not the infants cry for sustenance! The Mother of Our +Blessed Lord will hear them; us never, never afterward. + +_Leofric._ Here comes the bishop: we are but one mile from the walls. +Why dismountest thou? no bishop can expect this. Godiva! my honour and +rank among men are humbled by this. Earl Godwin will hear of it. Up! +up! the bishop hath seen it: he urgeth his horse onward. Dost thou not +hear him now upon the solid turf behind thee? + +_Godiva._ Never, no, never will I rise, O Leofric, until you remit +this most impious task--this tax on hard labour, on hard life. + +_Leofric._ Turn round: look how the fat nag canters, as to the tune of +a sinner's psalm, slow and hard-breathing. What reason or right can +the people have to complain, while their bishop's steed is so sleek +and well caparisoned? Inclination to change, desire to abolish old +usages. Up! up! for shame! They shall smart for it, idlers! Sir +Bishop, I must blush for my young bride. + +_Godiva._ My husband, my husband! will you pardon the city? + +_Leofric._ Sir Bishop! I could think you would have seen her in this +plight. Will I pardon? Yea, Godiva, by the holy rood, will I pardon +the city, when thou ridest naked at noontide through the streets! + +_Godiva._ O my dear, cruel Leofric, where is the heart you gave me? It +was not so: can mine have hardened it? + +_Bishop._ Earl, thou abashest thy spouse; she turneth pale, and +weepeth. Lady Godiva, peace be with thee. + +_Godiva._ Thanks, holy man! peace will be with me when peace is with +your city. Did you hear my lord's cruel word? + +_Bishop._ I did, lady. + +_Godiva._ Will you remember it, and pray against it? + +_Bishop._ Wilt _thou_ forget it, daughter? + +_Godiva._ I am not offended. + +_Bishop._ Angel of peace and purity! + +_Godiva._ But treasure it up in your heart: deem it an incense, good +only when it is consumed and spent, ascending with prayer and +sacrifice. And, now, what was it? + +_Bishop._ Christ save us! that He will pardon the city when thou +ridest naked through the streets at noon. + +_Godiva._ Did he swear an oath? + +_Bishop._ He sware by the holy rood. + +_Godiva._ My Redeemer, Thou hast heard it! save the city! + +_Leofric._ We are now upon the beginning of the pavement: these are +the suburbs. Let us think of feasting: we may pray afterward; +to-morrow we shall rest. + +_Godiva._ No judgments, then, to-morrow, Leofric? + +_Leofric._ None: we will carouse. + +_Godiva._ The saints of heaven have given me strength and confidence; +my prayers are heard; the heart of my beloved is now softened. + +_Leofric._ Ay, ay. + +_Godiva._ Say, dearest Leofric, is there indeed no other hope, no +other mediation? + +_Leofric._ I have sworn. Beside, thou hast made me redden and turn my +face away from thee, and all the knaves have seen it: this adds to the +city's crime. + +_Godiva._ I have blushed, too, Leofric, and was not rash nor obdurate. + +_Leofric._ But thou, my sweetest, art given to blushing: there is no +conquering it in thee. I wish thou hadst not alighted so hastily and +roughly: it hath shaken down a sheaf of thy hair. Take heed thou sit +not upon it, lest it anguish thee. Well done! it mingleth now sweetly +with the cloth of gold upon the saddle, running here and there, as if +it had life and faculties and business, and were working thereupon +some newer and cunninger device. O my beauteous Eve! there is a +Paradise about thee! the world is refreshed as thou movest and +breathest on it. I cannot see or think of evil where thou art. I could +throw my arms even here about thee. No signs for me! no shaking of +sunbeams! no reproof or frown of wonderment.--I _will_ say it--now, +then, for worse--I could close with my kisses thy half-open lips, ay, +and those lovely and loving eyes, before the people. + +_Godiva._ To-morrow you shall kiss me, and they shall bless you for +it. I shall be very pale, for to-night I must fast and pray. + +_Leofric._ I do not hear thee; the voices of the folk are so loud +under this archway. + +_Godiva._ [_To herself._] God help them! good kind souls! I hope they +will not crowd about me so to-morrow. O Leofric! could my name be +forgotten, and yours alone remembered! But perhaps my innocence may +save me from reproach; and how many as innocent are in fear and +famine! No eye will open on me but fresh from tears. What a young +mother for so large a family! Shall my youth harm me? Under God's hand +it gives me courage. Ah! when will the morning come? Ah! when will the +noon be over? + + The story of Godiva, at one of whose festivals or + fairs I was present in my boyhood, has always much + interested me; and I wrote a poem on it, sitting, I + remember, by the _square pool_ at Rugby. When I showed + it to the friend in whom I had most confidence, he + began to scoff at the subject; and, on his reaching + the last line, his laughter was loud and immoderate. + This conversation has brought both laughter and stanza + back to me, and the earnestness with which I entreated + and implored my friend _not to tell the lads_, so + heart-strickenly and desperately was I ashamed. The + verses are these, if any one else should wish another + laugh at me: + + 'In every hour, in every mood, + O lady, it is sweet and good + To bathe the soul in prayer; + And, at the close of such a day, + When we have ceased to bless and pray, + To dream on thy long hair.' + + May the peppermint be still growing on the bank in + that place! + + + + +ESSEX AND SPENSER + + +_Essex._ Instantly on hearing of thy arrival from Ireland, I sent a +message to thee, good Edmund, that I might learn, from one so +judicious and dispassionate as thou art, the real state of things in +that distracted country; it having pleased the queen's Majesty to +think of appointing me her deputy, in order to bring the rebellious to +submission. + +_Spenser._ Wisely and well considered; but more worthily of her +judgment than her affection. May your lordship overcome, as you have +ever done, the difficulties and dangers you foresee. + +_Essex._ We grow weak by striking at random; and knowing that I must +strike, and strike heavily, I would fain see exactly where the stroke +shall fall. + +Now what tale have you for us? + +_Spenser._ Interrogate me, my lord, that I may answer each question +distinctly, my mind being in sad confusion at what I have seen and +undergone. + +_Essex._ Give me thy account and opinion of these very affairs as thou +leftest them; for I would rather know one part well than all +imperfectly; and the violences of which I have heard within the day +surpass belief. + +Why weepest thou, my gentle Spenser? Have the rebels sacked thy house? + +_Spenser._ They have plundered and utterly destroyed it. + +_Essex._ I grieve for thee, and will see thee righted. + +_Spenser._ In this they have little harmed me. + +_Essex._ How! I have heard it reported that thy grounds are fertile, +and thy mansion large and pleasant. + +_Spenser._ If river and lake and meadow-ground and mountain could +render any place the abode of pleasantness, pleasant was mine, indeed! + +On the lovely banks of Mulla I found deep contentment. Under the dark +alders did I muse and meditate. Innocent hopes were my gravest cares, +and my playfullest fancy was with kindly wishes. Ah! surely of all +cruelties the worst is to extinguish our kindness. Mine is gone: I +love the people and the land no longer. My lord, ask me not about +them: I may speak injuriously. + +_Essex._ Think rather, then, of thy happier hours and busier +occupations; these likewise may instruct me. + +_Spenser._ The first seeds I sowed in the garden, ere the old castle +was made habitable for my lovely bride, were acorns from Penshurst. I +planted a little oak before my mansion at the birth of each child. My +sons, I said to myself, shall often play in the shade of them when I +am gone; and every year shall they take the measure of their growth, +as fondly as I take theirs. + +_Essex._ Well, well; but let not this thought make thee weep so +bitterly. + +_Spenser._ Poison may ooze from beautiful plants; deadly grief from +dearest reminiscences. I _must_ grieve, I _must_ weep: it seems the +law of God, and the only one that men are not disposed to contravene. +In the performance of this alone do they effectually aid one another. + +_Essex._ Spenser! I wish I had at hand any arguments or persuasions of +force sufficient to remove thy sorrow; but, really, I am not in the +habit of seeing men grieve at anything except the loss of favour at +court, or of a hawk, or of a buck-hound. And were I to swear out +condolences to a man of thy discernment, in the same round, roll-call +phrases we employ with one another upon these occasions, I should be +guilty, not of insincerity, but of insolence. True grief hath ever +something sacred in it; and, when it visiteth a wise man and a brave +one, is most holy. + +Nay, kiss not my hand: he whom God smiteth hath God with him. In His +presence what am I? + +_Spenser._ Never so great, my lord, as at this hour, when you see +aright who is greater. May He guide your counsels, and preserve your +life and glory! + +_Essex._ Where are thy friends? Are they with thee? + +_Spenser._ Ah, where, indeed! Generous, true-hearted Philip! where art +thou, whose presence was unto me peace and safety; whose smile was +contentment, and whose praise renown? My lord! I cannot but think of +him among still heavier losses: he was my earliest friend, and would +have taught me wisdom. + +_Essex._ Pastoral poetry, my dear Spenser, doth not require tears and +lamentations. Dry thine eyes; rebuild thine house: the queen and +council, I venture to promise thee, will make ample amends for every +evil thou hast sustained. What! does that enforce thee to wail still +louder? + +_Spenser._ Pardon me, bear with me, most noble heart! I have lost what +no council, no queen, no Essex, can restore. + +_Essex._ We will see that. There are other swords, and other arms to +yield them, beside a Leicester's and a Raleigh's. Others can crush +their enemies, and serve their friends. + +_Spenser._ O my sweet child! And of many so powerful, many so wise and +so beneficent, was there none to save thee? None, none! + +_Essex._ I now perceive that thou lamentest what almost every father +is destined to lament. Happiness must be bought, although the payment +may be delayed. Consider: the same calamity might have befallen thee +here in London. Neither the houses of ambassadors, nor the palaces of +kings, nor the altars of God Himself, are asylums against death. How +do I know but under this very roof there may sleep some latent +calamity, that in an instant shall cover with gloom every inmate of +the house, and every far dependent? + +_Spenser._ God avert it! + +_Essex._ Every day, every hour of the year, do hundreds mourn what +thou mournest. + +_Spenser._ Oh, no, no, no! Calamities there are around us; calamities +there are all over the earth; calamities there are in all seasons: but +none in any season, none in any place, like mine. + +_Essex._ So say all fathers, so say all husbands. Look at any old +mansion-house, and let the sun shine as gloriously as it may on the +golden vanes, or the arms recently quartered over the gateway or the +embayed window, and on the happy pair that haply is toying at it: +nevertheless, thou mayest say that of a certainty the same fabric hath +seen much sorrow within its chambers, and heard many wailings; and +each time this was the heaviest stroke of all. Funerals have passed +along through the stout-hearted knights upon the wainscot, and amid +the laughing nymphs upon the arras. Old servants have shaken their +heads, as if somebody had deceived them, when they found that beauty +and nobility could perish. + +Edmund! the things that are too true pass by us as if they were not +true at all; and when they have singled us out, then only do they +strike us. Thou and I must go too. Perhaps the next year may blow us +away with its fallen leaves. + +_Spenser._ For you, my lord, many years (I trust) are waiting: I never +shall see those fallen leaves. No leaf, no bud, will spring upon the +earth before I sink into her breast for ever. + +_Essex._ Thou, who art wiser than most men, shouldst bear with +patience, equanimity, and courage what is common to all. + +_Spenser._ Enough, enough, enough! Have all men seen their infant +burnt to ashes before their eyes? + +_Essex._ Gracious God! Merciful Father! what is this? + +_Spenser._ Burnt alive! burnt to ashes! burnt to ashes! The flames +dart their serpent tongues through the nursery window. I cannot quit +thee, my Elizabeth! I cannot lay down our Edmund! Oh, these flames! +They persecute, they enthral me; they curl round my temples; they hiss +upon my brain; they taunt me with their fierce, foul voices; they carp +at me, they wither me, they consume me, throwing back to me a little +of life to roll and suffer in, with their fangs upon me. Ask me, my +lord, the things you wish to know from me: I may answer them; I am now +composed again. Command me, my gracious lord! I would yet serve you: +soon I shall be unable. You have stooped to raise me up; you have +borne with me; you have pitied me, even like one not powerful. You +have brought comfort, and will leave it with me, for gratitude is +comfort. + +Oh! my memory stands all a-tiptoe on one burning point: when it drops +from it, then it perishes. Spare me: ask me nothing; let me weep +before you in peace--the kindest act of greatness. + +_Essex._ I should rather have dared to mount into the midst of the +conflagration than I now dare entreat thee not to weep. The tears that +overflow thy heart, my Spenser, will staunch and heal it in their +sacred stream; but not without hope in God. + +_Spenser._ My hope in God is that I may soon see again what He has +taken from me. Amid the myriads of angels, there is not one so +beautiful; and even he (if there be any) who is appointed my guardian +could never love me so. Ah! these are idle thoughts, vain wanderings, +distempered dreams. If there ever were guardian angels, he who so +wanted one--my helpless boy--would not have left these arms upon my +knees. + +_Essex._ God help and sustain thee, too gentle Spenser! I never will +desert thee. But what am I? Great they have called me! Alas, how +powerless, then, and infantile is greatness in the presence of +calamity! + +Come, give me thy hand: let us walk up and down the gallery. Bravely +done! I will envy no more a Sidney or a Raleigh. + + + + +LORD BACON AND RICHARD HOOKER + + +_Bacon._ Hearing much of your worthiness and wisdom, Master Richard +Hooker, I have besought your comfort and consolation in this my too +heavy affliction: for we often do stand in need of hearing what we +know full well, and our own balsams must be poured into our breasts by +another's hand. As the air at our doors is sometimes more expeditious +in removing pain and heaviness from the body than the most far-fetched +remedies would be, so the voice alone of a neighbourly and friendly +visitant may be more effectual in assuaging our sorrows, than whatever +is most forcible in rhetoric and most recondite in wisdom. On these +occasions we cannot put ourselves in a posture to receive the latter, +and still less are we at leisure to look into the corners of our +store-room, and to uncurl the leaves of our references. As for Memory, +who, you may tell me, would save us the trouble, she is footsore +enough in all conscience with me, without going farther back. +Withdrawn as you live from court and courtly men, and having ears +occupied by better reports than such as are flying about me, yet haply +so hard a case as mine, befalling a man heretofore not averse from the +studies in which you take delight, may have touched you with some +concern. + +_Hooker._ I do think, my Lord of Verulam, that, unhappy as you appear, +God in sooth has forgone to chasten you, and that the day which in His +wisdom He appointed for your trial, was the very day on which the +king's Majesty gave unto your ward and custody the great seal of his +English realm. And yet perhaps it may be--let me utter it without +offence--that your features and stature were from that day forward no +longer what they were before. Such an effect do power and rank and +office produce even on prudent and religious men. + +A hound's whelp howleth, if you pluck him up above where he stood: +man, in much greater peril from falling, doth rejoice. You, my lord, +as befitted you, are smitten and contrite, and do appear in deep +wretchedness and tribulation to your servants and those about you; but +I know that there is always a balm which lies uppermost in these +afflictions, and that no heart rightly softened can be very sore. + +_Bacon._ And yet, Master Richard, it is surely no small matter to +lose the respect of those who looked up to us for countenance; and the +favour of a right learned king; and, O Master Hooker, such a power of +money! But money is mere dross. I should always hold it so, if it +possessed not two qualities: that of making men treat us reverently, +and that of enabling us to help the needy. + +_Hooker._ The respect, I think, of those who respect us for what a +fool can give and a rogue can take away, may easily be dispensed with; +but it is indeed a high prerogative to help the needy; and when it +pleases the Almighty to deprive us of it, let us believe that He +foreknoweth our inclination to negligence in the charge entrusted to +us, and that in His mercy He hath removed from us a most fearful +responsibility. + +_Bacon._ I know a number of poor gentlemen to whom I could have +rendered aid. + +_Hooker._ Have you examined and sifted their worthiness? + +_Bacon._ Well and deeply. + +_Hooker._ Then must you have known them long before your adversity, +and while the means of succouring them were in your hands. + +_Bacon._ You have circumvented and entrapped me, Master Hooker. Faith! +I am mortified: you the schoolman, I the schoolboy! + +_Hooker._ Say not so, my lord. Your years, indeed, are fewer than +mine, by seven or thereabout; but your knowledge is far higher, your +experience richer. Our wits are not always in blossom upon us. When +the roses are overcharged and languid, up springs a spike of rue. +Mortified on such an occasion? God forfend it! But again to the +business. I should never be over-penitent for my neglect of needy +gentlemen who have neglected themselves much worse. They have chosen +their profession with its chances and contingencies. If they had +protected their country by their courage or adorned it by their +studies, they would have merited, and under a king of such learning +and such equity would have received in some sort, their reward. I look +upon them as so many old cabinets of ivory and tortoise-shell, +scratched, flawed, splintered, rotten, defective both within and +without, hard to unlock, insecure to lock up again, unfit to use. + +_Bacon._ Methinks it beginneth to rain, Master Richard. What if we +comfort our bodies with a small cup of wine, against the ill-temper of +the air. Wherefore, in God's name, are you affrightened? + +_Hooker._ Not so, my lord; not so. + +_Bacon._ What then affects you? + +_Hooker._ Why, indeed, since your lordship interrogates me--I looked, +idly and imprudently, into that rich buffet; and I saw, unless the +haze of the weather has come into the parlour, or my sight is the +worse for last night's reading, no fewer than six silver pints. +Surely, six tables for company are laid only at coronations. + +_Bacon._ There are many men so squeamish that forsooth they would keep +a cup to themselves, and never communicate it to their nearest and +best friend; a fashion which seems to me offensive in an honest house, +where no disease of ill repute ought to be feared. We have lately, +Master Richard, adopted strange fashions; we have run into the wildest +luxuries. The Lord Leicester, I heard it from my father--God forfend +it should ever be recorded in our history!--when he entertained Queen +Elizabeth at Kenilworth Castle, laid before her Majesty a fork of pure +silver. I the more easily credit it, as Master Thomas Coriatt doth +vouch for having seen the same monstrous sign of voluptuousness at +Venice. We are surely the especial favourites of Providence, when such +wantonness hath not melted us quite away. After this portent, it would +otherwise have appeared incredible that we should have broken the +Spanish Armada. + +Pledge me: hither comes our wine. + +[_To the Servant._] Dolt! villain! is not this the beverage I reserve +for myself? + +The blockhead must imagine that Malmsey runs in a stream under the +ocean, like the Alpheus. Bear with me, good Master Hooker, but verily +I have little of this wine, and I keep it as a medicine for my many +and growing infirmities. You are healthy at present: God in His +infinite mercy long maintain you so! Weaker drink is more wholesome +for you. The lighter ones of France are best accommodated by Nature to +our constitutions, and therefore she has placed them so within our +reach that we have only to stretch out our necks, in a manner, and +drink them from the vat. But this Malmsey, this Malmsey, flies from +centre to circumference, and makes youthful blood boil. + +_Hooker._ Of a truth, my knowledge in such matters is but spare. My +Lord of Canterbury once ordered part of a goblet, containing some +strong Spanish wine, to be taken to me from his table when I dined by +sufferance with his chaplains, and, although a most discreet, prudent +man as befitteth his high station, was not so chary of my health as +your lordship. Wine is little to be trifled with, physic less. The +Cretans, the brewers of this Malmsey, have many aromatic and powerful +herbs among them. On their mountains, and notably on Ida, grows that +dittany which works such marvels, and which perhaps may give activity +to this hot medicinal drink of theirs. I would not touch it, +knowingly: an unregarded leaf, dropped into it above the ordinary, +might add such puissance to the concoction as almost to break the +buckles in my shoes; since we have good and valid authority that the +wounded hart, on eating thereof, casts the arrow out of his haunch or +entrails, although it stuck a palm deep.[4] + +_Bacon._ When I read of such things I doubt them. Religion and +politics belong to God, and to God's vicegerent the king; we must not +touch upon them unadvisedly: but if I could procure a plant of dittany +on easy terms, I would persuade my apothecary and my gamekeeper to +make some experiments. + +_Hooker._ I dare not distrust what grave writers have declared in +matters beyond my knowledge. + +_Bacon._ Good Master Hooker, I have read many of your reasonings, and +they are admirably well sustained: added to which, your genius has +given such a strong current to your language as can come only from a +mighty elevation and a most abundant plenteousness. Yet forgive me, in +God's name, my worthy master, if you descried in me some expression of +wonder at your simplicity. We are all weak and vulnerable somewhere: +common men in the higher parts; heroes, as was feigned of Achilles, in +the lower. You would define to a hair's-breadth the qualities, states, +and dependencies of principalities, dominations, and powers; you would +be unerring about the apostles and the churches; and 'tis marvellous +how you wander about a pot-herb! + +_Hooker._ I know my poor weak intellects, most noble lord, and how +scantily they have profited by my hard painstaking. Comprehending few +things, and those imperfectly, I say only what others have said +before, wise men and holy; and if, by passing through my heart into +the wide world around me, it pleaseth God that this little treasure +shall have lost nothing of its weight and pureness, my exultation is +then the exultation of humility. Wisdom consisteth not in knowing many +things, nor even in knowing them thoroughly; but in choosing and in +following what conduces the most certainly to our lasting happiness +and true glory. And this wisdom, my Lord of Verulam, cometh from +above. + +_Bacon._ I have observed among the well-informed and the ill-informed +nearly the same quantity of infirmities and follies: those who are +rather the wiser keep them separate, and those who are wisest of all +keep them better out of sight. Now, examine the sayings and writings +of the prime philosophers, and you will often find them, Master +Richard, to be untruths made to resemble truths. The business with +them is to approximate as nearly as possible, and not to touch it: the +goal of the charioteer is _evitata fervidis rotis_, as some poet +saith. But we who care nothing for chants and cadences, and have no +time to catch at applauses, push forward over stones and sands +straightway to our object. I have persuaded men, and shall persuade +them for ages, that I possess a wide range of thought unexplored by +others, and first thrown open by me, with many fair enclosures of +choice and abstruse knowledge. I have incited and instructed them to +examine all subjects of useful and rational inquiry; few that occurred +to me have I myself left untouched or untried: one, however, hath +almost escaped me, and surely one worth the trouble. + +_Hooker._ Pray, my lord, if I am guilty of no indiscretion, what may +it be? + +_Bacon._ Francis Bacon. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[4] Lest it be thought that authority is wanting for the strong +expression of Hooker on the effects of dittany, the reader is referred +to the curious treatise of Plutarch on the reasoning faculty of +animals, in which (near the end) he asks: 'Who instructed deer wounded +by the Cretan arrow to seek for dittany? on the tasting of which herb +the bolts fall immediately from their bodies.' + + + + +OLIVER CROMWELL AND WALTER NOBLE + + +_Cromwell._ What brings thee back from Staffordshire, friend Walter? + +_Noble._ I hope, General Cromwell, to persuade you that the death of +Charles will be considered by all Europe as a most atrocious action. + +_Cromwell._ Thou hast already persuaded me: what then? + +_Noble._ Surely, then, you will prevent it, for your authority is +great. Even those who upon their consciences found him guilty would +remit the penalty of blood, some from policy, some from mercy. I have +conversed with Hutchinson, with Ludlow,[5] your friend and mine, with +Henry Nevile, and Walter Long: you will oblige these worthy friends, +and unite in your favour the suffrages of the truest and trustiest men +living. There are many others, with whom I am in no habits of +intercourse, who are known to entertain the same sentiments; and these +also are among the country gentlemen, to whom our parliament owes the +better part of its reputation. + +_Cromwell._ You country gentlemen bring with you into the People's +House a freshness and sweet savour which our citizens lack mightily. I +would fain merit your esteem, heedless of those pursy fellows from +hulks and warehouses, with one ear lappeted by the pen behind it, and +the other an heirloom, as Charles would have had it, in Laud's +Star-chamber. Oh, they are proud and bloody men! My heart melts; but, +alas! my authority is null: I am the servant of the Commonwealth. I +will not, dare not, betray it. If Charles Stuart had threatened my +death only, in the letter we ripped out of the saddle, I would have +reproved him manfully and turned him adrift: but others are concerned; +lives more precious than mine, worn as it is with fastings, prayers, +long services, and preyed upon by a pouncing disease. The Lord hath +led him into the toils laid for the innocent. Foolish man! he never +could eschew evil counsel. + +_Noble._ In comparison with you, he is but as a pinnacle to a +buttress. I acknowledge his weaknesses, and cannot wink upon his +crimes: but that which you visit as the heaviest of them perhaps was +not so, although the most disastrous to both parties--the bearing of +arms against his people. He fought for what he considered his +hereditary property; we do the same: should we be hanged for losing a +lawsuit? + +_Cromwell._ No, unless it is the second. Thou talkest finely and +foolishly, Wat, for a man of thy calm discernment. If a rogue holds a +pistol to my breast, do I ask him who he is? Do I care whether his +doublet be of cat-skin or of dog-skin? Fie upon such wicked sophisms! +Marvellous, how the devil works upon good men's minds! + +_Noble._ Charles was always more to be dreaded by his friends than by +his enemies, and now by neither. + +_Cromwell._ God forbid that Englishmen should be feared by Englishmen! +but to be daunted by the weakest, to bend before the worst--I tell +thee, Walter Noble, if Moses and the prophets commanded me to this +villainy, I would draw back and mount my horse. + +_Noble._ I wish that our history, already too dark with blood, should +contain, as far as we are concerned in it, some unpolluted pages. + +_Cromwell._ 'Twere better, much better. Never shall I be called, I +promise thee, an unnecessary shedder of blood. Remember, my good, +prudent friend, of what materials our sectaries are composed: what +hostility against all eminence, what rancour against all glory. Not +only kingly power offends them, but every other; and they talk of +_putting to the sword_, as if it were the quietest, gentlest, and most +ordinary thing in the world. The knaves even dictate from their stools +and benches to men in armour, bruised and bleeding for them; and with +school-dames' scourges in their fists do they give counsel to those +who protect them from the cart and halter. In the name of the Lord, I +must spit outright (or worse) upon these crackling bouncing +firebrands, before I can make them tractable. + +_Noble._ I lament their blindness; but follies wear out the faster by +being hard run upon. This fermenting sourness will presently turn +vapid, and people will cast it out. I am not surprised that you are +discontented and angry at what thwarts your better nature. But come, +Cromwell, overlook them, despise them, and erect to yourself a +glorious name by sparing a mortal enemy. + +_Cromwell._ A glorious name, by God's blessing, I will erect; and all +our fellow-labourers shall rejoice at it: but I see better than they +do the blow descending on them, and my arm better than theirs can ward +it off. Noble, thy heart overflows with kindness for Charles Stuart: +if he were at liberty to-morrow by thy intercession, he would sign thy +death-warrant the day after, for serving the Commonwealth. A +generation of vipers! there is nothing upright nor grateful in them: +never was there a drop of even Scotch blood in their veins. Indeed, we +have a clue to their bedchamber still hanging on the door, and I +suspect that an Italian fiddler or French valet has more than once +crossed the current. + +_Noble._ That may be: nor indeed is it credible that any royal or +courtly family has gone on for three generations without a spur from +interloper. Look at France! some stout Parisian saint performed the +last miracle there. + +_Cromwell._ Now thou talkest gravely and sensibly: I could hear thee +discourse thus for hours together. + +_Noble._ Hear me, Cromwell, with equal patience on matters more +important. We all have our sufferings: why increase one another's +wantonly? Be the blood Scotch or English, French or Italian, a +drummer's or a buffoon's, it carries a soul upon its stream; and every +soul has many places to touch at, and much business to perform, before +it reaches its ultimate destination. Abolish the power of Charles; +extinguish not his virtues. Whatever is worthy to be loved for +anything is worthy to be preserved. A wise and dispassionate +legislator, if any such should arise among men, will not condemn to +death him who has done, or is likely to do, more service than injury +to society. Blocks and gibbets are the nearest objects to ours, and +their business is never with virtues or with hopes. + +_Cromwell._ Walter! Walter! we laugh at speculators. + +_Noble._ Many indeed are ready enough to laugh at speculators, because +many profit, or expect to profit, by established and widening abuses. +Speculations toward evil lose their name by adoption; speculations +towards good are for ever speculations, and he who hath proposed them +is a chimerical and silly creature. Among the matters under this +denomination I never find a cruel project, I never find an oppressive +or unjust one: how happens it? + +_Cromwell._ Proportions should exist in all things. Sovereigns are +paid higher than others for their office; they should therefore be +punished more severely for abusing it, even if the consequences of +this abuse were in nothing more grievous or extensive. We cannot clap +them in the stocks conveniently, nor whip them at the market-place. +Where there is a crown there must be an axe: I would keep it there +only. + +_Noble._ Lop off the rotten, press out the poisonous, preserve the +rest; let it suffice to have given this memorable example of national +power and justice. + +_Cromwell._ Justice is perfect; an attribute of God: we must not +trifle with it. + +_Noble._ Should we be less merciful to our fellow-creatures than to +our domestic animals? Before we deliver them to be killed, we weigh +their services against their inconveniences. On the foundation of +policy, when we have no better, let us erect the trophies of humanity: +let us consider that, educated in the same manner and situated in the +same position, we ourselves might have acted as reprovably. Abolish +that for ever which must else for ever generate abuses; and attribute +the faults of the man to the office, not the faults of the office to +the man. + +_Cromwell._ I have no bowels for hypocrisy, and I abominate and detest +kingship. + +_Noble._ I abominate and detest hangmanship; but in certain stages of +society both are necessary. Let them go together; we want neither now. + +_Cromwell._ Men, like nails, lose their usefulness when they lose +their direction and begin to bend: such nails are then thrown into the +dust or into the furnace. I must do my duty; I must accomplish what is +commanded me; I must not be turned aside. I am loath to be cast into +the furnace or the dust; but God's will be done! Prithee, Wat, since +thou readest, as I see, the books of philosophers, didst thou ever +hear of Digby's remedies by sympathy? + +_Noble._ Yes, formerly. + +_Cromwell._ Well, now, I protest, I do believe there is something in +them. To cure my headache, I must breathe a vein in the neck of +Charles. + +_Noble._ Oliver, Oliver! others are wittiest over wine, thou over +blood: cold-hearted, cruel man. + +_Cromwell._ Why, dost thou verily think me so, Walter? Perhaps thou +art right in the main: but He alone who fashioned me in my mother's +womb, and who sees things deeper than we do, knows that. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[5] Ludlow, a most humane and temperate man, signed the death-warrant +of Charles, for violating the constitution he had sworn to defend, for +depriving the subject of property, liberty, limbs, and life +unlawfully. In equity he could do no otherwise; and to equity was the +only appeal, since the laws of the land had been erased by the king +himself. + + + + +LORD BROOKE AND SIR PHILIP SIDNEY + + + Lord Brooke is less known than the personage with whom + he converses, and upon whose friendship he had the + virtue and good sense to found his chief distinction. + On his monument at Warwick, written by himself, we + read that he was servant of Queen Elizabeth, + counsellor of King James and friend of Sir Philip + Sidney. His style is stiff, but his sentiments are + sound and manly. + +_Brooke._ I come again unto the woods and unto the wilds of Penshurst, +whither my heart and the friend of my heart have long invited me. + +_Sidney._ Welcome, welcome! And now, Greville, seat yourself under +this oak; since if you had hungered or thirsted from your journey, you +would have renewed the alacrity of your old servants in the hall. + +_Brooke._ In truth I did; for no otherwise the good household would +have it. The birds met me first, affrightened by the tossing up of +caps; and by these harbingers I knew who were coming. When my palfrey +eyed them askance for their clamorousness, and shrank somewhat back, +they quarrelled with him almost before they saluted me, and asked him +many pert questions. What a pleasant spot, Sidney, have you chosen +here for meditation! A solitude is the audience-chamber of God. Few +days in our year are like this; there is a fresh pleasure in every +fresh posture of the limbs, in every turn the eye takes. + + Youth! credulous of happiness, throw down + Upon this turf thy wallet--stored and swoln + With morrow-morns, bird-eggs, and bladders burst-- + That tires thee with its wagging to and fro: + Thou too wouldst breathe more freely for it, Age! + Who lackest heart to laugh at life's deceit. + +It sometimes requires a stout push, and sometimes a sudden resistance, +in the wisest men, not to become for a moment the most foolish. What +have I done? I have fairly challenged you, so much my master. + +_Sidney._ You have warmed me: I must cool a little and watch my +opportunity. So now, Greville, return you to your invitations, and I +will clear the ground for the company; for Youth, for Age, and +whatever comes between, with kindred and dependencies. Verily we need +no taunts like those in your verses: here we have few vices, and +consequently few repinings. I take especial care that my young +labourers and farmers shall never be idle, and I supply them with bows +and arrows, with bowls and ninepins, for their Sunday evening,[6] +lest they drink and quarrel. In church they are taught to love God; +after church they are practised to love their neighbour: for business +on workdays keeps them apart and scattered, and on market-days they +are prone to a rivalry bordering on malice, as competitors for custom. +Goodness does not more certainly make men happy than happiness makes +them good. We must distinguish between felicity and prosperity; for +prosperity leads often to ambition, and ambition to disappointment: +the course is then over; the wheel turns round but once; while the +reaction of goodness and happiness is perpetual. + +_Brooke._ You reason justly and you act rightly. Piety--warm, soft, +and passive as the ether round the throne of Grace--is made callous +and inactive by kneeling too much: her vitality faints under rigorous +and wearisome observances. A forced match between a man and his +religion sours his temper, and leaves a barren bed. + +_Sidney._ Desire of lucre, the worst and most general country vice, +arises here from the necessity of looking to small gains; it is, +however, but the tartar that encrusts economy. + +_Brooke._ Oh that anything so monstrous should exist in this profusion +and prodigality of blessings! The herbs, elastic with health, seem to +partake of sensitive and animated life, and to feel under my hand the +benediction I would bestow on them. What a hum of satisfaction in +God's creatures! How is it, Sidney, the smallest do seem the happiest? + +_Sidney._ Compensation for their weaknesses and their fears; +compensation for the shortness of their existence. Their spirits mount +upon the sunbeam above the eagle; and they have more enjoyment in +their one summer than the elephant in his century. + +_Brooke._ Are not also the little and lowly in our species the most +happy? + +_Sidney._ I would not willingly try nor over-curiously examine it. We, +Greville, are happy in these parks and forests: we were happy in my +close winter-walk of box and laurustine. In our earlier days did we +not emboss our bosoms with the daffodils, and shake them almost unto +shedding with our transport? Ay, my friend, there is a greater +difference, both in the stages of life and in the seasons of the year, +than in the conditions of men: yet the healthy pass through the +seasons, from the clement to the inclement, not only unreluctantly +but rejoicingly, knowing that the worst will soon finish, and the best +begin anew; and we are desirous of pushing forward into every stage of +life, excepting that alone which ought reasonably to allure us most, +as opening to us the _Via Sacra_, along which we move in triumph to +our eternal country. We may in some measure frame our minds for the +reception of happiness, for more or for less; we should, however, well +consider to what port we are steering in search of it, and that even +in the richest its quantity is but too exhaustible. There is a +sickliness in the firmest of us, which induceth us to change our side, +though reposing ever so softly: yet, wittingly or unwittingly, we turn +again soon into our old position. + +God hath granted unto both of us hearts easily contented, hearts +fitted for every station, because fitted for every duty. What appears +the dullest may contribute most to our genius; what is most gloomy may +soften the seeds and relax the fibres of gaiety. We enjoy the +solemnity of the spreading oak above us: perhaps we owe to it in part +the mood of our minds at this instant; perhaps an inanimate thing +supplies me, while I am speaking, with whatever I possess of +animation. Do you imagine that any contest of shepherds can afford +them the same pleasure as I receive from the description of it; or +that even in their loves, however innocent and faithful, they are so +free from anxiety as I am while I celebrate them? The exertion of +intellectual power, of fancy and imagination, keeps from us greatly +more than their wretchedness, and affords us greatly more than their +enjoyment. We are motes in the midst of generations: we have our +sunbeams to circuit and climb. Look at the summits of the trees around +us, how they move, and the loftiest the most: nothing is at rest +within the compass of our view, except the grey moss on the +park-pales. Let it eat away the dead oak, but let it not be compared +with the living one. + +Poets are in general prone to melancholy; yet the most plaintive ditty +hath imparted a fuller joy, and of longer duration, to its composer, +than the conquest of Persia to the Macedonian. A bottle of wine +bringeth as much pleasure as the acquisition of a kingdom, and not +unlike it in kind: the senses in both cases are confused and +perverted. + +_Brooke._ Merciful Heaven! and for the fruition of an hour's +drunkenness, from which they must awaken with heaviness, pain, and +terror, men consume a whole crop of their kind at one harvest home. +Shame upon those light ones who carol at the feast of blood! and worse +upon those graver ones who nail upon their escutcheon the name of +great! Ambition is but Avarice on stilts and masked. God sometimes +sends a famine, sometimes a pestilence, and sometimes a hero, for the +chastisement of mankind; none of them surely for our admiration. Only +some cause like unto that which is now scattering the mental fog of +the Netherlands, and is preparing them for the fruits of freedom, can +justify us in drawing the sword abroad. + +_Sidney._ And only the accomplishment of our purpose can permit us +again to sheathe it; for the aggrandizement of our neighbour is nought +of detriment to us: on the contrary, if we are honest and industrious, +his wealth is ours. We have nothing to dread while our laws are +equitable and our impositions light: but children fly from mothers who +strip and scourge them. + +_Brooke._ We are come to an age when we ought to read and speak +plainly what our discretion tells us is fit: we are not to be set in a +corner for mockery and derision, with our hands hanging down +motionless and our pockets turned inside out. + + * * * * * + +But away, away with politics: let not this city-stench infect our +fresh country air! + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTE: + +[6] Censurable as that practice may appear, it belonged to the age of +Sidney. Amusements were permitted the English on the seventh day, nor +were they restricted until the Puritans gained the ascendancy. + + + + +SOUTHEY AND PORSON + + +_Porson._ I suspect, Mr. Southey, you are angry with me for the +freedom with which I have spoken of your poetry and Wordsworth's. + +_Southey._ What could have induced you to imagine it, Mr. Professor? +You have indeed bent your eyes upon me, since we have been together, +with somewhat of fierceness and defiance: I presume you fancied me to +be a commentator. You wrong me in your belief that any opinion on my +poetical works hath molested me; but you afford me more than +compensation in supposing me acutely sensible of injustice done to +Wordsworth. If we must converse on these topics, we will converse on +him. What man ever existed who spent a more inoffensive life, or +adorned it with nobler studies? + +_Porson._ I believe so; and they who attack him with virulence are men +of as little morality as reflection. I have demonstrated that one of +them, he who wrote the _Pursuits of Literature_, could not construe a +Greek sentence or scan a verse; and I have fallen on the very _Index_ +from which he drew out his forlorn hope on the parade. This is +incomparably the most impudent fellow I have met with in the course of +my reading, which has lain, you know, in a province where impudence is +no rarity. + + * * * * * + +I had visited a friend in _King's Road_ when he entered. + +'Have you seen the _Review_?' cried he. 'Worse than ever! I am +resolved to insert a paragraph in the papers, declaring that I had no +concern in the last number.' + +'Is it so very bad?' said I, quietly. + +'Infamous! detestable!' exclaimed he. + +'Sit down, then: nobody will believe you,' was my answer. + +Since that morning he has discovered that I drink harder than usual, +that my faculties are wearing fast away, that once, indeed, I had some +Greek in my head, but--he then claps the forefinger to the side of his +nose, turns his eye slowly upward, and looks compassionately and +calmly. + +_Southey._ Come, Mr. Porson, grant him his merits: no critic is better +contrived to make any work a monthly one, no writer more dexterous in +giving a finishing touch. + +_Porson._ The plagiary has a greater latitude of choice than we; and +if he brings home a parsnip or turnip-top, when he could as easily +have pocketed a nectarine or a pineapple, he must be a blockhead. I +never heard the name of the _Pursuer of Literature_, who has little +more merit in having stolen than he would have had if he had never +stolen at all; and I have forgotten that other man's, who evinced his +fitness to be the censor of our age, by a translation of the most +naked and impure satires of antiquity--those of Juvenal, which owe +their preservation to the partiality of the friars. I shall entertain +an unfavourable opinion of him if he has translated them well: pray, +has he? + +_Southey._ Indeed, I do not know. I read poets for their poetry, and +to extract that nutriment of the intellect and of the heart which +poetry should contain. I never listen to the swans of the cesspool, +and must declare that nothing is heavier to me than rottenness and +corruption. + +_Porson._ You are right, sir, perfectly right. A translator of Juvenal +would open a public drain to look for a needle, and may miss it. My +nose is not easily offended; but I must have something to fill my +belly. Come, we will lay aside the scrip of the transpositor and the +pouch of the pursuer, in reserve for the days of unleavened bread; +and again, if you please, to the lakes and mountains. Now we are both +in better humour, I must bring you to a confession that in your friend +Wordsworth there is occasionally a little trash. + +_Southey._ A haunch of venison would be trash to a Brahmin, a bottle +of Burgundy to the xerif of Mecca. We are guided by precept, by habit, +by taste, by constitution. Hitherto our sentiments on poetry have been +delivered down to us from authority; and if it can be demonstrated, as +I think it may be, that the authority is inadequate, and that the +dictates are often inapplicable and often misinterpreted, you will +allow me to remove the cause out of court. Every man can see what is +very bad in a poem; almost every one can see what is very good: but +you, Mr. Porson, who have turned over all the volumes of all the +commentators, will inform me whether I am right or wrong in asserting +that no critic hath yet appeared who hath been able to fix or to +discern the exact degrees of excellence above a certain point. + +_Porson._ None. + +_Southey._ The reason is, because the eyes of no one have been upon a +level with it. Supposing, for the sake of argument, the contest of +Hesiod and Homer to have taken place: the judges who decided in favour +of the worse, and he, indeed, in poetry has little merit, may have +been elegant, wise, and conscientious men. Their decision was in +favour of that to the species of which they had been the most +accustomed. Corinna was preferred to Pindar no fewer than five times, +and the best judges in Greece gave her the preference; yet whatever +were her powers, and beyond a question they were extraordinary, we may +assure ourselves that she stood many degrees below Pindar. Nothing is +more absurd than the report that the judges were prepossessed by her +beauty. Plutarch tells us that she was much older than her competitor, +who consulted her judgment in his earlier odes. Now, granting their +first competition to have been when Pindar was twenty years old, and +that the others were in the years succeeding, her beauty must have +been somewhat on the decline; for in Greece there are few women who +retain the graces, none who retain the bloom of youth, beyond the +twenty-third year. Her countenance, I doubt not, was expressive: but +expression, although it gives beauty to men, makes women pay dearly +for its stamp, and pay soon. Nature seems, in protection to their +loveliness, to have ordered that they who are our superiors in +quickness and sensibility should be little disposed to laborious +thought, or to long excursions in the labyrinths of fancy. We may be +convinced that the verdict of the judges was biased by nothing else +than the habitudes of thinking; we may be convinced, too, that living +in an age when poetry was cultivated highly, and selected from the +most acute and the most dispassionate, they were subject to no greater +errors of opinion than are the learned messmates of our English +colleges. + +_Porson._ You are more liberal in your largesses to the fair Greeks +than a friend of mine was, who resided in Athens to acquire the +language. He assured me that beauty there was in bud at thirteen, in +full blossom at fifteen, losing a leaf or two every day at seventeen, +trembling on the thorn at nineteen, and under the tree at twenty. + +_Southey._ Mr. Porson, it does not appear to me that anything more is +necessary, in the first instance, than to interrogate our hearts in +what manner they have been affected. If the ear is satisfied; if at +one moment a tumult is aroused in the breast, and tranquillized at +another, with a perfect consciousness of equal power exerted in both +cases; if we rise up from the perusal of the work with a strong +excitement to thought, to imagination, to sensibility; above all, if +we sat down with some propensities toward evil, and walk away with +much stronger toward good, in the midst of a world which we never had +entered and of which we never had dreamed before--shall we perversely +put on again the _old man_ of criticism, and dissemble that we have +been conducted by a most beneficent and most potent genius? Nothing +proves to me so manifestly in what a pestiferous condition are its +lazarettos, as when I observe how little hath been objected against +those who have substituted words for things, and how much against +those who have reinstated things for words. + +Let Wordsworth prove to the world that there may be animation without +blood and broken bones, and tenderness remote from the stews. Some +will doubt it; for even things the most evident are often but little +perceived and strangely estimated. Swift ridiculed the music of Handel +and the generalship of Marlborough; Pope the perspicacity and the +scholarship of Bentley; Gray the abilities of Shaftesbury and the +eloquence of Rousseau. Shakespeare hardly found those who would +collect his tragedies; Milton was read from godliness; Virgil was +antiquated and rustic; Cicero, Asiatic. What a rabble has persecuted +my friend! An elephant is born to be consumed by ants in the midst of +his unapproachable solitudes: Wordsworth is the prey of Jeffrey. Why +repine? Let us rather amuse ourselves with allegories, and recollect +that God in the creation left His noblest creature at the mercy of a +serpent. + + * * * * * + +_Porson._ Wordsworth goes out of his way to be attacked; he picks up a +piece of dirt, throws it on the carpet in the midst of the company, +and cries, _This is a better man than any of you!_ He does indeed +mould the base material into what form he chooses; but why not rather +invite us to contemplate it than challenge us to condemn it? Here +surely is false taste. + +_Southey._ The principal and the most general accusation against him +is, that the vehicle of his thoughts is unequal to them. Now did ever +the judges at the Olympic games say: 'We would have awarded to you the +meed of victory, if your chariot had been equal to your horses: it is +true they have won; but the people are displeased at a car neither new +nor richly gilt, and without a gryphon or sphinx engraved on the +axle'? You admire simplicity in Euripides; you censure it in +Wordsworth: believe me, sir, it arises in neither from penury of +thought--which seldom has produced it--but from the strength of +temperance, and at the suggestion of principle. + +Take up a poem of Wordsworth's and read it--I would rather say, read +them all; and, knowing that a mind like yours must grasp closely what +comes within it, I will then appeal to you whether any poet of our +country, since Milton, hath exerted greater powers with less of strain +and less of ostentation. I would, however, by his permission, lay +before you for this purpose a poem which is yet unpublished and +incomplete. + +_Porson._ Pity, with such abilities, he does not imitate the ancients +somewhat more. + +_Southey._ Whom did they imitate? If his genius is equal to theirs he +has no need of a guide. He also will be an ancient; and the very +counterparts of those who now decry him will extol him a thousand +years hence in malignity to the moderns. + + + + +THE ABBE DELILLE AND WALTER LANDOR + + +The Abbe Delille was the happiest of creatures, when he could weep +over the charms of innocence and the country in some crowded and +fashionable circle at Paris. We embraced most pathetically on our +first meeting there, as if the one were condemned to quit the earth, +the other to live upon it. + +_Delille._ You are reported to have said that descriptive poetry has +all the merits of a handkerchief that smells of roses? + +_Landor._ This, if I said it, is among the things which are neither +false enough nor true enough to be displeasing. But the Abbe Delille +has merits of his own. To translate Milton well is more laudable than +originality in trifling matters; just as to transport an obelisk from +Egypt, and to erect it in one of the squares, must be considered a +greater labour than to build a new chandler's shop. + +_Delille._ Milton is indeed extremely difficult to translate; for, +however noble and majestic, he is sometimes heavy, and often rough and +unequal. + +_Landor._ Dear Abbe, porphyry is heavy, gold is heavier; Ossa and +Olympus are rough and unequal; the steppes of Tartary, though high, +are of uniform elevation: there is not a rock, nor a birch, nor a +cytisus, nor an arbutus upon them great enough to shelter a +new-dropped lamb. Level the Alps one with another, and where is their +sublimity? Raise up the vale of Tempe to the downs above, and where +are those sylvan creeks and harbours in which the imagination watches +while the soul reposes; those recesses in which the gods partook the +weaknesses of mortals, and mortals the enjoyments of the gods? + +You have treated our poet with courtesy and distinction; in your +trimmed and measured dress, he might be taken for a Frenchman. Do not +think me flattering. You have conducted Eve from Paradise to Paris, +and she really looks prettier and smarter than before she tripped. +With what elegance she rises from a most awful dream! You represent +her (I repeat your expression) as springing up _en sursaut_, as if +you had caught her asleep and tickled the young creature on that sofa. + +Homer and Virgil have been excelled in sublimity by Shakespeare and +Milton, as the Caucasus and Atlas of the old world by the Andes and +Teneriffe of the new; but you would embellish them all. + +_Delille._ I owe to Voltaire my first sentiment of admiration for +Milton and Shakespeare. + +_Landor._ He stuck to them as a woodpecker to an old forest-tree, only +for the purpose of picking out what was rotten: he has made the holes +deeper than he found them, and, after all his cries and chatter, has +brought home but scanty sustenance to his starveling nest. + +_Delille._ You must acknowledge that there are fine verses in his +tragedies. + +_Landor._ Whenever such is the first observation, be assured, M. +l'Abbe, that the poem, if heroic or dramatic, is bad. Should a work of +this kind be excellent, we say, 'How admirably the characters are +sustained! What delicacy of discrimination! There is nothing to be +taken away or altered without an injury to the part or to the whole.' +We may afterward descend on the versification. In poetry, there is a +greater difference between the good and the excellent than there is +between the bad and the good. Poetry has no golden mean; mediocrity +here is of another metal, which Voltaire, however, had skill enough to +encrust and polish. In the least wretched of his tragedies, whatever +is tolerable is Shakespeare's; but, gracious Heaven! how deteriorated! +When he pretends to extol a poet he chooses some defective part, and +renders it more so whenever he translates it. I will repeat a few +verses from Metastasio in support of my assertion. Metastasio was both +a better critic and a better poet, although of the second order in +each quality; his tyrants are less philosophical, and his chambermaids +less dogmatic. Voltaire was, however, a man of abilities, and author +of many passable epigrams, beside those which are contained in his +tragedies and heroics; yet it must be confessed that, like your +Parisian lackeys, they are usually the smartest when out of place. + +_Delille._ What you call epigram gives life and spirit to grave works, +and seems principally wanted to relieve a long poem. I do not see why +what pleases us in a star should not please us in a constellation. + + + + +DIOGENES AND PLATO + + +_Diogenes._ Stop! stop! come hither! Why lookest thou so scornfully +and askance upon me? + +_Plato._ Let me go! loose me! I am resolved to pass. + +_Diogenes._ Nay, then, by Jupiter and this tub! thou leavest three +good ells of Milesian cloth behind thee. Whither wouldst thou amble? + +_Plato._ I am not obliged in courtesy to tell you. + +_Diogenes._ Upon whose errand? Answer me directly. + +_Plato._ Upon my own. + +_Diogenes._ Oh, then, I will hold thee yet awhile. If it were upon +another's, it might be a hardship to a good citizen, though not to a +good philosopher. + +_Plato._ That can be no impediment to my release: you do not think me +one. + +_Diogenes._ No, by my Father Jove! + +_Plato._ Your father! + +_Diogenes._ Why not? Thou shouldst be the last man to doubt it. Hast +not thou declared it irrational to refuse our belief to those who +assert that they are begotten by the gods, though the assertion (these +are thy words) be unfounded on reason or probability? In me there is a +chance of it: whereas in the generation of such people as thou art +fondest of frequenting, who claim it loudly, there are always too many +competitors to leave it probable. + +_Plato._ Those who speak against the great do not usually speak from +morality, but from envy. + +_Diogenes._ Thou hast a glimpse of the truth in this place, but as +thou hast already shown thy ignorance in attempting to prove to me +what a _man_ is, ill can I expect to learn from thee what is a _great +man_. + +_Plato._ No doubt your experience and intercourse will afford me the +information. + +_Diogenes._ Attend, and take it. The great man is he who hath nothing +to fear and nothing to hope from another. It is he who, while he +demonstrates the iniquity of the laws, and is able to correct them, +obeys them peaceably. It is he who looks on the ambitious both as weak +and fraudulent. It is he who hath no disposition or occasion for any +kind of deceit, no reason for being or for appearing different from +what he is. It is he who can call together the most select company +when it pleases him. + +_Plato._ Excuse my interruption. In the beginning of your definition I +fancied that you were designating your own person, as most people do +in describing what is admirable; now I find that you have some other +in contemplation. + +_Diogenes._ I thank thee for allowing me what perhaps I _do_ possess, +but what I was not then thinking of; as is often the case with rich +possessors: in fact, the latter part of the description suits me as +well as any portion of the former. + +_Plato._ You may call together the best company, by using your hands +in the call, as you did with me; otherwise I am not sure that you +would succeed in it. + +_Diogenes._ My thoughts are my company; I can bring them together, +select them, detain them, dismiss them. Imbecile and vicious men +cannot do any of these things. Their thoughts are scattered, vague, +uncertain, cumbersome: and the worst stick to them the longest; many +indeed by choice, the greater part by necessity, and accompanied, some +by weak wishes, others by vain remorse. + +_Plato._ Is there nothing of greatness, O Diogenes! in exhibiting how +cities and communities may be governed best, how morals may be kept +the purest, and power become the most stable? + +_Diogenes._ _Something_ of greatness does not constitute the great +man. Let me, however, see him who hath done what thou sayest: he must +be the most universal and the most indefatigable traveller, he must +also be the oldest creature, upon earth. + +_Plato._ How so? + +_Diogenes._ Because he must know perfectly the climate, the soil, the +situation, the peculiarities, of the races, of their allies, of their +enemies; he must have sounded their harbours, he must have measured +the quantity of their arable land and pasture, of their woods and +mountains; he must have ascertained whether there are fisheries on +their coasts, and even what winds are prevalent. On these causes, with +some others, depend the bodily strength, the numbers, the wealth, the +wants, the capacities of the people. + +_Plato._ Such are low thoughts. + +_Diogenes._ The bird of wisdom flies low, and seeks her food under +hedges: the eagle himself would be starved if he always soared aloft +and against the sun. The sweetest fruit grows near the ground, and the +plants that bear it require ventilation and lopping. Were this not to +be done in thy garden, every walk and alley, every plot and border, +would be covered with runners and roots, with boughs and suckers. We +want no poets or logicians or metaphysicians to govern us: we want +practical men, honest men, continent men, unambitious men, fearful to +solicit a trust, slow to accept, and resolute never to betray one. +Experimentalists may be the best philosophers: they are always the +worst politicians. Teach people their duties, and they will know their +interests. Change as little as possible, and correct as much. + +Philosophers are absurd from many causes, but principally from laying +out unthriftily their distinctions. They set up four virtues: +fortitude, prudence, temperance, and justice. Now a man may be a very +bad one, and yet possess three out of the four. Every cut-throat must, +if he has been a cut-throat on many occasions, have more fortitude and +more prudence than the greater part of those whom we consider as the +best men. And what cruel wretches, both executioners and judges, have +been strictly just! how little have they cared what gentleness, what +generosity, what genius, their sentence hath removed from the earth! +Temperance and beneficence contain all other virtues. Take them home, +Plato; split them, expound them; do what thou wilt with them, if thou +but use them. + +Before I gave thee this lesson, which is a better than thou ever +gavest any one, and easier to remember, thou wert accusing me of +invidiousness and malice against those whom thou callest the great, +meaning to say the powerful. Thy imagination, I am well aware, had +taken its flight toward Sicily, where thou seekest thy great man, as +earnestly and undoubtingly as Ceres sought her Persephone. Faith! +honest Plato, I have no reason to envy thy worthy friend Dionysius. +Look at my nose! A lad seven or eight years old threw an apple at me +yesterday, while I was gazing at the clouds, and gave me nose enough +for two moderate men. Instead of such a godsend, what should I have +thought of my fortune, if, after living all my lifetime among golden +vases, rougher than my hand with their emeralds and rubies, their +engravings and embossments; among Parian caryatides and porphyry +sphinxes; among philosophers with rings upon their fingers and linen +next their skin; and among singing-boys and dancing-girls, to whom +alone thou speakest intelligibly--I ask thee again, what should I in +reason have thought of my fortune, if, after these facilities and +superfluities, I had at last been pelted out of my house, not by one +young rogue, but by thousands of all ages, and not with an apple (I +wish I could say a rotten one), but with pebbles and broken pots; and, +to crown my deserts, had been compelled to become the teacher of so +promising a generation? Great men, forsooth! thou knowest at last who +they are. + +_Plato._ There are great men of various kinds. + +_Diogenes._ No, by my beard, are there not! + +_Plato._ What! are there not great captains, great geometricians, +great dialectitians? + +_Diogenes._ Who denied it? A great man was the postulate. Try thy hand +now at the powerful one. + +_Plato._ On seeing the exercise of power, a child cannot doubt who is +powerful, more or less; for power is relative. All men are weak, not +only if compared to the Demiurgos, but if compared to the sea or the +earth, or certain things upon each of them, such as elephants and +whales. So placid and tranquil is the scene around us, we can hardly +bring to mind the images of strength and force, the precipices, the +abysses---- + +_Diogenes._ Prithee hold thy loose tongue, twinkling and glittering +like a serpent's in the midst of luxuriance and rankness! Did never +this reflection of thine warn thee that, in human life, the precipices +and abysses would be much farther from our admiration if we were less +inconsiderate, selfish, and vile? I will not however stop thee long, +for thou wert going on quite consistently. As thy great men are +fighters and wranglers, so thy mighty things upon the earth and sea +are troublesome and intractable encumbrances. Thou perceivedst not +what was greater in the former case, neither art thou aware what is +greater in this. Didst thou feel the gentle air that passed us? + +_Plato._ I did not, just then. + +_Diogenes._ That air, so gentle, so imperceptible to thee, is more +powerful not only than all the creatures that breathe and live by it; +not only than all the oaks of the forest, which it rears in an age and +shatters in a moment; not only than all the monsters of the sea, but +than the sea itself, which it tosses up into foam, and breaks against +every rock in its vast circumference; for it carries in its bosom, +with perfect calm and composure, the incontrollable ocean and the +peopled earth, like an atom of a feather. + +To the world's turmoils and pageantries is attracted, not only the +admiration of the populace, but the zeal of the orator, the enthusiasm +of the poet, the investigation of the historian, and the contemplation +of the philosopher: yet how silent and invisible are they in the +depths of air! Do I say in those depths and deserts? No; I say in the +distance of a swallow's flight--at the distance she rises above us, +ere a sentence brief as this could be uttered. + +What are its mines and mountains? Fragments welded up and dislocated +by the expansion of water from below; the most part reduced to mud, +the rest to splinters. Afterwards sprang up fire in many places, and +again tore and mangled the mutilated carcass, and still growls over +it. + +What are its cities and ramparts, and moles and monuments? Segments of +a fragment, which one man puts together and another throws down. Here +we stumble upon thy great ones at their work. Show me now, if thou +canst, in history, three great warriors, or three great statesmen, who +have acted otherwise than spiteful children. + +_Plato._ I will begin to look for them in history when I have +discovered the same number in the philosophers or the poets. A prudent +man searches in his own garden after the plant he wants, before he +casts his eyes over the stalls in Kenkrea or Keramicos. + +Returning to your observation on the potency of the air, I am not +ignorant or unmindful of it. May I venture to express my opinion to +you, Diogenes, that the earlier discoverers and distributors of wisdom +(which wisdom lies among us in ruins and remnants, partly distorted +and partly concealed by theological allegory) meant by Jupiter the air +in its agitated state; by Juno the air in its quiescent. These are the +great agents, and therefore called the king and queen of the gods. +Jupiter is denominated by Homer the _compeller of clouds_: Juno +receives them, and remits them in showers to plants and animals. + +I may trust you, I hope, O Diogenes? + +_Diogenes._ Thou mayest lower the gods in my presence, as safely as +men in the presence of Timon. + +_Plato._ I would not lower them: I would exalt them. + +_Diogenes._ More foolish and presumptuous still! + +_Plato._ Fair words, O Sinopean! I protest to you my aim is truth. + +_Diogenes._ I cannot lead thee where of a certainty thou mayest always +find it; but I will tell thee what it is. Truth is a point; the +subtilest and finest; harder than adamant; never to be broken, worn +away, or blunted. Its only bad quality is, that it is sure to hurt +those who touch it; and likely to draw blood, perhaps the life-blood, +of those who press earnestly upon it. Let us away from this narrow +lane skirted with hemlock, and pursue our road again through the wind +and dust toward the _great_ man and the _powerful_. Him I would call +the powerful one who controls the storms of his mind, and turns to +good account the worst accidents of his fortune. The great man, I was +going on to demonstrate, is somewhat more. He must be able to do this, +and he must have an intellect which puts into motion the intellect of +others. + +_Plato._ Socrates, then, was your great man. + +_Diogenes._ He was indeed; nor can all thou hast attributed to him +ever make me think the contrary. I wish he could have kept a little +more at home, and have thought it as well worth his while to converse +with his own children as with others. + +_Plato._ He knew himself born for the benefit of the human race. + +_Diogenes._ Those who are born for the benefit of the human race go +but little into it: those who are born for its curse are crowded. + +_Plato._ It was requisite to dispel the mists of ignorance and error. + +_Diogenes._ Has he done it? What doubt has he elucidated, or what fact +has he established? Although I was but twelve years old and resident +in another city when he died, I have taken some pains in my inquiries +about him from persons of less vanity and less perverseness than his +disciples. He did not leave behind him any true philosopher among +them; any who followed his mode of argumentation, his subjects of +disquisition, or his course of life; any who would subdue the +malignant passions or coerce the looser; any who would abstain from +calumny or from cavil; any who would devote his days to the glory of +his country, or, what is easier and perhaps wiser, to his own +well-founded contentment and well-merited repose. Xenophon, the best +of them, offered up sacrifices, believed in oracles, consulted +soothsayers, turned pale at a jay, and was dysenteric at a magpie. + +_Plato._ He had courage at least. + +_Diogenes._ His courage was of so strange a quality, that he was +ready, if jay or magpie did not cross him, to fight for Spartan or +Persian. Plato, whom thou esteemest much, and knowest somewhat less, +careth as little for portent and omen as doth Diogenes. What he would +have done for a Persian I cannot say; certain I am that he would have +no more fought for a Spartan than he would for his own father: yet he +mortally hates the man who hath a kinder muse or a better milliner, or +a seat nearer the minion of a king. So much for the two disciples of +Socrates who have acquired the greatest celebrity! + + * * * * * + +_Plato._ Diogenes! if you must argue or discourse with me, I will +endure your asperity for the sake of your acuteness; but it appears to +me a more philosophical thing to avoid what is insulting and +vexatious, than to breast and brave it. + +_Diogenes._ Thou hast spoken well. + +_Plato._ It belongs to the vulgar, not to us, to fly from a man's +opinions to his actions, and to stab him in his own house for having +received no wound in the school. One merit you will allow me: I always +keep my temper; which you seldom do. + +_Diogenes._ Is mine a good or a bad one? + +_Plato._ Now, must I speak sincerely? + +_Diogenes._ Dost thou, a philosopher, ask such a question of me, a +philosopher? Ay, sincerely or not at all. + +_Plato._ Sincerely as you could wish, I must declare, then, your +temper is the worst in the world. + +_Diogenes._ I am much in the right, therefore, not to keep it. Embrace +me: I have spoken now in thy own manner. Because thou sayest the most +malicious things the most placidly, thou thinkest or pretendest thou +art sincere. + +_Plato._ Certainly those who are most the masters of their resentments +are likely to speak less erroneously than the passionate and morose. + +_Diogenes._ If they would, they might; but the moderate are not +usually the most sincere, for the same circumspection which makes them +moderate makes them likewise retentive of what could give offence: +they are also timid in regard to fortune and favour, and hazard +little. There is no mass of sincerity in any place. What there is must +be picked up patiently, a grain or two at a time; and the season for +it is after a storm, after the overflowing of banks, and bursting of +mounds, and sweeping away of landmarks. Men will always hold something +back; they must be shaken and loosened a little, to make them let go +what is deepest in them, and weightiest and purest. + +_Plato._ Shaking and loosening as much about you as was requisite for +the occasion, it became you to demonstrate where and in what manner I +had made Socrates appear less sagacious and less eloquent than he was; +it became you likewise to consider the great difficulty of finding new +thoughts and new expressions for those who had more of them than any +other men, and to represent them in all the brilliancy of their wit +and in all the majesty of their genius. I do not assert that I have +done it; but if I have not, what man has? what man has come so nigh to +it? He who could bring Socrates, or Solon, or Diogenes through a +dialogue, without disparagement, is much nearer in his intellectual +powers to them, than any other is near to him. + +_Diogenes._ Let Diogenes alone, and Socrates, and Solon. None of the +three ever occupied his hours in tingeing and curling the tarnished +plumes of prostitute Philosophy, or deemed anything worth his +attention, care, or notice, that did not make men brave and +independent. As thou callest on me to show thee where and in what +manner thou hast misrepresented thy teacher, and as thou seemest to +set an equal value on eloquence and on reasoning, I shall attend to +thee awhile on each of these matters, first inquiring of thee whether +the axiom is Socratic, that it is never becoming to get drunk, +_unless_ in the solemnities of Bacchus? + +_Plato._ This god was the discoverer of the vine and of its uses. + +_Diogenes._ Is drunkenness one of its uses, or the discovery of a god? +If Pallas or Jupiter hath given us reason, we should sacrifice our +reason with more propriety to Jupiter or Pallas. To Bacchus is due a +libation of wine; the same being his gift, as thou preachest. + +Another and a graver question. + +Did Socrates teach thee that 'slaves are to be scourged, and by no +means admonished as though they were the children of the master'? + +_Plato._ He did not argue upon government. + +_Diogenes._ He argued upon humanity, whereon all government is +founded: whatever is beside it is usurpation. + +_Plato._ Are slaves then never to be scourged, whatever be their +transgressions and enormities? + +_Diogenes._ Whatever they be, they are less than his who reduced them +to this condition. + +_Plato._ What! though they murder his whole family? + +_Diogenes._ Ay, and poison the public fountain of the city. + +What am I saying? and to whom? Horrible as is this crime, and next in +atrocity to parricide, thou deemest it a lighter one than stealing a +fig or grape. The stealer of these is scourged by thee; the sentence +on the poisoner is to cleanse out the receptacle. There is, however, a +kind of poisoning which, to do thee justice, comes before thee with +all its horrors, and which thou wouldst punish capitally, even in such +a sacred personage as an aruspex or diviner: I mean the poisoning by +incantation. I, and my whole family, my whole race, my whole city, may +bite the dust in agony from a truss of henbane in the well; and little +harm done forsooth! Let an idle fool set an image of me in wax before +the fire, and whistle and caper to it, and purr and pray, and chant a +hymn to Hecate while it melts, entreating and imploring her that I may +melt as easily--and thou wouldst, in thy equity and holiness, strangle +him at the first stave of his psalmody. + +_Plato._ If this is an absurdity, can you find another? + +_Diogenes._ Truly, in reading thy book, I doubted at first, and for a +long continuance, whether thou couldst have been serious; and whether +it were not rather a satire on those busy-bodies who are incessantly +intermeddling in other people's affairs. It was only on the +protestation of thy intimate friends that I believed thee to have +written it in earnest. As for thy question, it is idle to stoop and +pick out absurdities from a mass of inconsistency and injustice; but +another and another I could throw in, and another and another +afterward, from any page in the volume. Two bare, staring falsehoods +lift their beaks one upon the other, like spring frogs. Thou sayest +that no punishment decreed by the laws tendeth to evil. What! not if +immoderate? not if partial? Why then repeal any penal statute while +the subject of its animadversion exists? In prisons the less criminal +are placed among the more criminal, the inexperienced in vice together +with the hardened in it. This is part of the punishment, though it +precedes the sentence; nay, it is often inflicted on those whom the +judges acquit: the law, by allowing it, does it. + +The next is, that he who is punished by the laws is the better for it, +however the less depraved. What! if anteriorly to the sentence he +lives and converses with worse men, some of whom console him by +deadening the sense of shame, others by removing the apprehension of +punishment? Many laws as certainly make men bad, as bad men make many +laws; yet under thy regimen they take us from the bosom of the nurse, +turn the meat about upon the platter, pull the bed-clothes off, make +us sleep when we would wake, and wake when we would sleep, and never +cease to rummage and twitch us, until they see us safe landed at the +grave. We can do nothing (but be poisoned) with impunity. What is +worst of all, we must marry certain relatives and connexions, be they +distorted, blear-eyed, toothless, carbuncled, with hair (if any) +eclipsing the reddest torch of Hymen, and with a hide outrivalling in +colour and plaits his trimmest saffron robe. At the mention of this +indeed, friend Plato, even thou, although resolved to stand out of +harm's way, beginnest to make a wry mouth, and findest it difficult to +pucker and purse it up again, without an astringent store of moral +sentences. Hymen is truly no acquaintance of thine. We know the +delicacies of love which thou wouldst reserve for the gluttony of +heroes and the fastidiousness of philosophers. Heroes, like gods, must +have their own way; but against thee and thy confraternity of elders I +would turn the closet-key, and your mouths might water over, but your +tongues should never enter those little pots of comfiture. Seriously, +you who wear embroidered slippers ought to be very cautious of +treading in the mire. Philosophers should not only live the simplest +lives, but should also use the plainest language. Poets, in employing +magnificent and sonorous words, teach philosophy the better by thus +disarming suspicion that the finest poetry contains and conveys the +finest philosophy. You will never let any man hold his right station: +you would rank Solon with Homer for poetry. This is absurd. The only +resemblance is in both being eminently wise. Pindar, too, makes even +the cadences of his dithyrambics keep time to the flute of Reason. My +tub, which holds fifty-fold thy wisdom, would crack at the +reverberation of thy voice. + +_Plato._ Farewell. + + * * * * * + +_Diogenes._ I mean that every one of thy whimsies hath been picked up +somewhere by thee in thy travels; and each of them hath been rendered +more weak and puny by its place of concealment in thy closet. What +thou hast written on the immortality of the soul goes rather to prove +the immortality of the body; and applies as well to the body of a +weasel or an eel as to the fairer one of Agathon or of Aster. Why not +at once introduce a new religion, since religions keep and are +relished in proportion as they are salted with absurdity, inside and +out? and all of them must have one great crystal of it for the centre; +but Philosophy pines and dies unless she drinks limpid water. When +Pherecydes and Pythagoras felt in themselves the majesty of +contemplation, they spurned the idea that flesh and bones and arteries +should confer it: and that what comprehends the past and the future +should sink in a moment and be annihilated for ever. 'No,' cried they, +'the power of thinking is no more in the brain than in the hair, +although the brain may be the instrument on which it plays. It is not +corporeal, it is not of this world; its existence is eternity, its +residence is infinity.' I forbear to discuss the rationality of their +belief, and pass on straightway to thine; if, indeed, I am to consider +as one, belief and doctrine. + +_Plato._ As you will. + +_Diogenes._ I should rather, then, regard these things as mere +ornaments; just as many decorate their apartments with lyres and +harps, which they themselves look at from the couch, supinely +complacent, and leave for visitors to admire and play on. + +_Plato._ I foresee not how you can disprove my argument on the +immortality of the soul, which, being contained in the best of my +dialogues, and being often asked for among my friends, I carry with +me. + +_Diogenes._ At this time? + +_Plato._ Even so. + +_Diogenes._ Give me then a certain part of it for my perusal. + +_Plato._ Willingly. + +_Diogenes._ Hermes and Pallas! I wanted but a cubit of it, or at most +a fathom, and thou art pulling it out by the plethron. + +_Plato._ This is the place in question. + +_Diogenes._ Read it. + +_Plato._ [_Reads._] 'Sayest thou not that death is the opposite of +life, and that they spring the one from the other?' '_Yes._' 'What +springs then from the living?' '_The dead._' 'And what from the dead?' +'_The living._' 'Then all things alive spring from the dead.' + +_Diogenes._ Why the repetition? but go on. + +_Plato._ [_Reads._] 'Souls therefore exist after death in the infernal +regions.' + +_Diogenes._ Where is the _therefore_? where is it even as to +_existence_? As to the _infernal regions_, there is nothing that +points toward a proof, or promises an indication. Death neither +springs from life, nor life from death. Although death is the +inevitable consequence of life, if the observation and experience of +ages go for anything, yet nothing shows us, or ever hath signified, +that life comes from death. Thou mightest as well say that a +barley-corn dies before the germ of another barley-corn grows up from +it, than which nothing is more untrue; for it is only the protecting +part of the germ that perishes, when its protection is no longer +necessary. The consequence, that souls exist after death, cannot be +drawn from the corruption of the body, even if it were demonstrable +that out of this corruption a live one could rise up. Thou hast not +said that the soul is among those dead things which living things must +spring from; thou hast not said that a living soul produces a dead +soul, or that a dead soul produces a living one. + +_Plato._ No, indeed. + +_Diogenes._ On my faith, thou hast said, however, things no less +inconsiderate, no less inconsequent, no less unwise; and this very +thing must be said and proved, to make thy argument of any value. Do +dead men beget children? + +_Plato._ I have not said it. + +_Diogenes._ Thy argument implies it. + +_Plato._ These are high mysteries, and to be approached with +reverence. + +_Diogenes._ Whatever we cannot account for is in the same predicament. +We may be gainers by being ignorant if we can be thought mysterious. +It is better to shake our heads and to let nothing out of them, than +to be plain and explicit in matters of difficulty. I do not mean in +confessing our ignorance or our imperfect knowledge of them, but in +clearing them up perspicuously: for, if we answer with ease, we may +haply be thought good-natured, quick, communicative; never deep, +never sagacious; not very defective possibly in our intellectual +faculties, yet unequal and chinky, and liable to the probation of +every clown's knuckle. + +_Plato._ The brightest of stars appear the most unsteady and tremulous +in their light; not from any quality inherent in themselves, but from +the vapours that float below, and from the imperfection of vision in +the surveyor. + +_Diogenes._ Draw thy robe round thee; let the folds fall gracefully, +and look majestic. That sentence is an admirable one; but not for me. +I want sense, not stars. What then? Do no vapours float below the +others? and is there no imperfection in the vision of those who look +at _them_, if they are the same men, and look the next moment? We must +move on: I shall follow the dead bodies, and the benighted driver of +their fantastic bier, close and keen as any hyena. + +_Plato._ Certainly, O Diogenes, you excel me in elucidations and +similes: mine was less obvious. + + * * * * * + +_Diogenes._ I know the respect thou bearest to the dogly character, +and can attribute to nothing else the complacency with which thou hast +listened to me since I released thy cloak. If ever the Athenians, in +their inconstancy, should issue a decree to deprive me of the +appellation they have conferred on me, rise up, I pray thee, in my +defence, and protest that I have not merited so severe a mulct. +Something I do deserve at thy hands; having supplied thee, first with +a store of patience, when thou wert going without any about thee, +although it is the readiest viaticum and the heartiest sustenance of +human life; and then with weapons from this tub, wherewith to drive +the importunate cock before thee out of doors again. + + + + +ALFIERI AND SALOMON THE FLORENTINE JEW + + +_Alfieri._ Let us walk to the window, Signor Salomon. And now, instead +of the silly, simpering compliments repeated at introductions, let me +assure you that you are the only man in Florence with whom I would +willingly exchange a salutation. + +_Salomon._ I must think myself highly flattered, Signor Conte, having +always heard that you are not only the greatest democrat, but also the +greatest aristocrat, in Europe. + +_Alfieri._ These two things, however opposite, which your smile would +indicate, are not so irreconcilable as you imagine. Let us first +understand the words, and then talk about them. The democrat is he who +wishes the people to have a due share in the government, and this +share if you please shall be the principal one. The aristocrat of our +days is contented with no actual share in it; but if a man of family +is conscious of his dignity, and resentful that another has invaded +it, he may be, and is universally, called an aristocrat. The principal +difference is, that one carries outward what the other carries inward. +I am thought an aristocrat by the Florentines for conversing with few +people, and for changing my shirt and shaving my beard on other days +than festivals; which the most aristocratical of them never do, +considering it, no doubt, as an excess. I am, however, from my soul a +republican, if prudence and modesty will authorize any man to call +himself so; and this, I trust, I have demonstrated in the most +valuable of my works, the _Treatise on Tyranny_ and the _Dialogue_ +with my friends at Siena. The aristocratical part of me, if part of me +it must be called, hangs loose and keeps off insects. I see no +aristocracy in the children of sharpers from behind the counter, nor, +placing the matter in the most favourable point of view, in the +descendants of free citizens who accepted from any vile +enslaver--French, Spanish, German, or priest, or monk (represented +with a piece of buffoonery, like a beehive on his head and a picklock +key at his girdle)--the titles of counts and marquises. In Piedmont +the matter is different: we must either have been the rabble or the +lords; we were military, and we retain over the populace the same rank +and spirit as our ancestors held over the soldiery. + +_Salomon._ Signor Conte, I have heard of levellers, but I have never +seen one: all are disposed to level down, but nobody to level up. As +for nobility, there is none in Europe beside the Venetian. Nobility +must be self-constituted and independent: the free alone are noble; +slavery, like death, levels all. The English come nearest to the +Venetian: they are independent, but want the main characteristic, the +_self-constituted_. You have been in England, Signor Conte, and can +judge of them better than I can. + + * * * * * + +_Alfieri._ It is among those who stand between the peerage and the +people that there exists a greater mass of virtue and of wisdom than +in the rest of Europe. Much of their dignified simplicity may be +attributed to the plainness of their religion, and, what will always +be imitated, to the decorous life of their king: for whatever may be +the defects of either, if we compare them with others round us, they +are excellent. + +_Salomon._ A young religion jumps upon the shoulders of an older one, +and soon becomes like her, by mockery of her tricks, her cant, and her +decrepitude. Meanwhile the old one shakes with indignation, and swears +there is neither relationship nor likeness. Was there ever a religion +in the world that was not the true religion, or was there ever a king +that was not the best of kings? + +_Alfieri._ In the latter case we must have arrived nigh perfection; +since it is evident from the authority of the gravest men--theologians, +presidents, judges, corporations, universities, senates--that every +prince is better than his father, 'of blessed memory, now with God'. If +they continue to rise thus transcendently, earth in a little time will +be incapable of holding them, and higher heavens must be raised upon +the highest heavens for their reception. The lumber of our Italian +courts, the most crazy part of which is that which rests upon a red +cushion in a gilt chair, with stars and sheep and crosses dangling from +it, must be approached as Artaxerxes and Domitian. These automatons, we +are told nevertheless, are very condescending. Poor fools who tell us +it! ignorant that where on one side is condescension, on the other side +must be baseness. The rascals have ruined my physiognomy. I wear an +habitual sneer upon my face, God confound them for it! even when I +whisper a word of love in the prone ear of my donna. + +_Salomon._ This temper or constitution of mind I am afraid may do +injury to your works. + +_Alfieri._ Surely not to all: my satire at least must be the better +for it. + +_Salomon._ I think differently. No satire can be excellent where +displeasure is expressed with acrimony and vehemence. When satire +ceases to smile, it should be momentarily, and for the purpose of +inculcating a moral. Juvenal is hardly more a satirist than Lucan: he +is indeed a vigorous and bold declaimer, but he stamps too often, and +splashes up too much filth. We Italians have no delicacy in wit: we +have indeed no conception of it; we fancy we must be weak if we are +not offensive. The scream of Pulcinello is imitated more easily than +the masterly strokes of Plautus, or the sly insinuations of Catullus +and of Flaccus. + +_Alfieri._ We are the least witty of men because we are the most +trifling. + +_Salomon._ You would persuade me then that to be witty one must be +grave: this is surely a contradiction. + +_Alfieri._ I would persuade you only that banter, pun, and quibble are +the properties of light men and shallow capacities; that genuine +humour and true wit require a sound and capacious mind, which is +always a grave one. Contemptuousness is not incompatible with them: +worthless is that man who feels no contempt for the worthless, and +weak who treats their emptiness as a thing of weight. At first it may +seem a paradox, but it is perfectly true, that the gravest nations +have been the wittiest; and in those nations some of the gravest men. +In England, Swift and Addison; in Spain, Cervantes. Rabelais and La +Fontaine are recorded by their countrymen to have been _reveurs_. Few +men have been graver than Pascal; few have been wittier. + + * * * * * + +That Shakespeare was gay and pleasurable in conversation I can easily +admit; for there never was a mind at once so plastic and so pliant: +but without much gravity, could there have been that potency and +comprehensiveness of thought, that depth of feeling, that creation of +imperishable ideas, that sojourn in the souls of other men? He was +amused in his workshop: such was society. But when he left it, he +meditated intensely upon those limbs and muscles on which he was about +to bestow new action, grace, and majesty; and so great an intensity of +meditation must have strongly impressed his whole character. + + * * * * * + +_Salomon._ Certainly no race of men upon earth ever was so unwarlike, +so indifferent to national dignity and to personal honour, as the +Florentines are now: yet in former days a certain pride, arising from +a resemblance in their government to that of Athens, excited a +vivifying desire of approximation where no danger or loss accompanied +it; and Genius was no less confident of his security than of his +power. Look from the window. That cottage on the declivity was +Dante's: that square and large mansion, with a circular garden before +it elevated artificially, was the first scene of Boccaccio's +_Decameron_. A boy might stand at an equal distance between them, and +break the windows of each with his sling. What idle fabricators of +crazy systems will tell me that climate is the creator of genius? The +climate of Austria is more regular and more temperate than ours, which +I am inclined to believe is the most variable in the whole universe, +subject, as you have perceived, to heavy fogs for two months in +winter, and to a stifling heat, concentrated within the hills, for +five more. Yet a single man of genius hath never appeared in the whole +extent of Austria, an extent of several thousand times greater than +our city; and this very street has given birth to fifty. + +_Alfieri._ Since the destruction of the republic, Florence has +produced only one great man, Galileo, and abandoned him to every +indignity that fanaticism and despotism could invent. Extraordinary +men, like the stones that are formed in the higher regions of the air, +fall upon the earth only to be broken and cast into the furnace. The +precursor of Newton lived in the deserts of the moral world, drank +water, and ate locusts and wild honey. It was fortunate that his head +also was not lopped off: had a singer asked it, instead of a dancer, +it would have been. + +_Salomon._ In fact it was; for the fruits of it were shaken down and +thrown away: he was forbidden to publish the most important of his +discoveries, and the better part of his manuscripts was burned after +his death. + +_Alfieri._ Yes, Signor Salomon, those things may rather be called our +heads than this knob above the shoulder, of which (as matters stand) +we are rather the porters than the proprietors, and which is really +the joint concern of barber and dentist. + +_Salomon._ Our thoughts, if they may not rest at home, may wander +freely. Delighting in the remoter glories of my native city, I forget +at times its humiliation and ignominy. A town so little that the voice +of a cabbage-girl in the midst of it may be heard at the extremities, +reared within three centuries a greater number of citizens illustrious +for their genius than all the remainder of the Continent (excepting +her sister Athens) in six thousand years. My ignorance of the Greek +forbids me to compare our Dante with Homer. The propriety and force of +language and the harmony of verse in the glorious Grecian are quite +lost to me. Dante had not only to compose a poem, but in great part a +language. Fantastical as the plan of his poem is, and, I will add, +uninteresting and uninviting; unimportant, mean, contemptible, as are +nine-tenths of his characters and his details, and wearisome as is the +scheme of his versification--there are more thoughts highly poetical, +there is more reflection, and the nobler properties of mind and +intellect are brought into more intense action, not only than in the +whole course of French poetry, but also in the whole of continental; +nor do I think (I must here also speak with hesitation) that any one +drama of Shakespeare contains so many. Smile as you will, Signor +Conte, what must I think of a city where Michel Angelo, Frate +Bartolomeo, Ghiberti (who formed them), Guicciardini, and Machiavelli +were secondary men? And certainly such were they, if we compare them +with Galileo and Boccaccio and Dante. + +_Alfieri._ I smiled from pure delight, which I rarely do; for I take +an interest deep and vital in such men, and in those who appreciate +them rightly and praise them unreservedly. These are my +fellow-citizens: I acknowledge no other; we are of the same tribe, of +the same household; I bow to them as being older than myself, and I +love them as being better. + +_Salomon._ Let us hope that our Italy is not yet effete. Filangieri +died but lately: what think you of him? + +_Alfieri._ If it were possible that I could ever see his statue in a +square at Constantinople, though I should be scourged for an idolater, +I would kiss the pedestal. As this, however, is less likely than that +I should suffer for writing satirically, and as criticism is less +likely to mislead me than speculation, I will revert to our former +subject. + +Indignation and contempt may be expressed in other poems than such as +are usually called satires. Filicaia, in his celebrated address to +Italy, steers a middle course. + + * * * * * + +A perfect piece of criticism must exhibit _where_ a work is good or +bad; _why_ it is good or bad; in what degree it is good or bad; must +also demonstrate in what manner, and to what extent, the same ideas or +reflections have come to others, and, if they be clothed in poetry, +why by an apparently slight variation, what in one author is +mediocrity, in another is excellence. I have never seen a critic of +Florence, or Pisa, or Milan, or Bologna, who did not commend and +admire the sonnet of Cassiani on the rape of Proserpine, without a +suspicion of its manifold and grave defects. + + * * * * * + +Does not this describe the devils of our carnival, rather than the +majestic brother of Jupiter, at whose side upon asphodel and amaranth +the sweet Persephone sits pensively contented, in that deep motionless +quiet which mortals pity and which the gods enjoy; rather than him +who, under the umbrage of Elysium, gazes at once upon all the beauties +that on earth were separated--Helena and Eriphyle, Polyxena and +Hermione, Deidamia and Deianira, Leda and Omphale, Atalanta and +Cydippe, Laodamia, with her arm round the neck of a fond youth whom +she still seems afraid of losing, and, apart, the daughters of Niobe +clinging to their parent? + +_Salomon._ These images are better than satires; but continue, in +preference to other thoughts or pursuits, the noble career you have +entered. Be contented, Signor Conte, with the glory of our first great +dramatist, and neglect altogether any inferior one. Why vex and +torment yourself about the French? They buzz and are troublesome while +they are swarming; but the master will soon hive them. Is the whole +nation worth the worst of your tragedies? All the present race of +them, all the creatures in the world which excite your indignation, +will lie in the grave, while young and old are clapping their hands or +beating their bosoms at your _Bruto Primo_. Consider also that kings +and emperors should in your estimation be but as grasshoppers and +beetles: let them consume a few blades of your clover without +molesting them, without bringing them to crawl on you and claw you. +The difference between them and men of genius is almost as great as +between men of genius and those higher intelligences who act in +immediate subordination to the Almighty. Yes, I assert it, without +flattery and without fear, the angels are not higher above mortals +than you are above the proudest that trample on them. + +_Alfieri._ I believe, sir, you were the first in commending my +tragedies. + +_Salomon._ He who first praises a good book becomingly is next in +merit to the author. + +_Alfieri._ As a writer and as a man I know my station: if I found in +the world five equal to myself, I would walk out of it, not to be +jostled. + +I must now, Signor Salomon, take my leave of you; for his Eminence my +coachman and their Excellencies my horses are waiting. + + + + +ROUSSEAU AND MALESHERBES + + +_Rousseau._ I am ashamed, sir, of my countrymen: let my humiliation +expiate their offence. I wish it had not been a minister of the Gospel +who received you with such inhospitality. + +_Malesherbes._ Nothing can be more ardent and more cordial than the +expressions with which you greet me, M. Rousseau, on my return from +your lakes and mountains. + +_Rousseau._ If the pastor took you for a courtier, I reverence him for +his contemptuousness. + +_Malesherbes._ Why so? Indeed you are in the wrong, my friend. No +person has a right to treat another with contemptuousness unless he +knows him to deserve it. When a courtier enters the house of a pastor +in preference to the next, the pastor should partake in the sentiment +that induced him, or at least not to be offended to be preferred. A +courtier is such at court: in the house of a clergyman he is not a +courtier, but a guest. If to be a courtier is offensive, remember that +we punish offences where they are committed, where they can be +examined, where pleadings can be heard for and against the accused, +and where nothing is admitted extraneous from the indictment, +excepting what may be adduced in his behalf by witnesses to the +general tenor of his character. + +_Rousseau._ Is it really true that the man told you to mount the +hayloft if you wished a night's lodging? + +_Malesherbes._ He did: a certain proof that he no more took me to be a +courtier than I took him to be. I accepted his offer, and never slept +so soundly. Moderate fatigue, the Alpine air, the blaze of a good fire +(for I was admitted to it some moments), and a profusion of +odoriferous hay, below which a cow was sleeping, subdued my senses, +and protracted my slumbers beyond the usual hour. + +_Rousseau._ You have no right, sir, to be the patron and remunerator +of inhospitality. Three or four such men as you would corrupt all +Switzerland, and prepare it for the fangs of France and Austria. +Kings, like hyenas, will always fall upon dead carcasses, although +their bellies are full, and although they are conscious that in the +end they will tear one another to pieces over them. Why should you +prepare their prey? Were your fire and effulgence given you for this? +Why, in short, did you thank this churl? Why did you recommend him to +his superiors for preferment on the next vacancy? + +_Malesherbes._ I must adopt your opinion of his behaviour in order to +answer you satisfactorily. You suppose him inhospitable: what milder +or more effectual mode of reproving him, than to make every dish at +his table admonish him? If he did evil, have I no authority before me +which commands me to render him good for it? Believe me, M. Rousseau, +the execution of this command is always accompanied by the heart's +applause, and opportunities of obedience are more frequent here than +anywhere. Would not you exchange resentment for the contrary feeling, +even if religion or duty said nothing about the matter? I am afraid +the most philosophical of us are sometimes a little perverse, and will +not be so happy as they might be, because the path is pointed out to +them, and because he who points it out is wise and powerful. Obstinacy +and jealousy, the worst parts of childhood and of manhood, have range +enough for their ill humours without the heavens. + +_Rousseau._ Sir, I perceive you are among my enemies. I did not think +it; for, whatever may be my faults, I am totally free from suspicion. + +_Malesherbes._ And do not think it now, I entreat you, my good friend. + +_Rousseau._ Courts and society have corrupted the best heart in +France, and have perverted the best intellect. + +_Malesherbes._ They have done much evil then. + +_Rousseau._ Answer me, and your own conscience: how could you choose +to live among the perfidies of Paris and Versailles? + +_Malesherbes._ Lawyers, and advocates in particular, must live there; +philosophers need not. If every honest man thought it requisite to +leave those cities, would the inhabitants be the better? + +_Rousseau._ You have entered into intimacies with the members of +various administrations, opposite in plans and sentiments, but alike +hostile to you, and all of whom, if they could have kept your talents +down, would have done it. Finding the thing impossible, they ceased to +persecute, and would gladly tempt you under the semblance of +friendship and esteem to supplicate for some office, that they might +indicate to the world your unworthiness by refusing you: a proof, as +you know, quite sufficient and self-evident. + +_Malesherbes._ They will never tempt me to supplicate for anything but +justice, and that in behalf of others. I know nothing of parties. If I +am acquainted with two persons of opposite sides in politics, I +consider them as you consider a watchmaker and a cabinet-maker: one +desires to rise by one way, the other by another. Administrations and +systems of government would be quite indifferent to those very +functionaries and their opponents, who appear the most zealous +partisans, if their fortunes and consequence were not affixed to them. +Several of these men seem consistent, and indeed are; the reason is, +versatility would loosen and detach from them the public esteem and +confidence---- + +_Rousseau._ By which their girandoles are lighted, their dinners +served, their lackeys liveried, and their opera-girls vie in +benefit-nights. There is no State in Europe where the least wise have +not governed the most wise. We find the light and foolish keeping up +with the machinery of government easily and leisurely, just as we see +butterflies keep up with carriages at full speed. This is owing in +both cases to their levity and their position: the stronger and the +more active are left behind. I am resolved to prove that +farmers-general are the main causes of the defects in our music. + +_Malesherbes._ Prove it, or anything else, provided that the +discussion does not irritate and torment you. + +_Rousseau._ Truth is the object of philosophy. + +_Malesherbes._ Not of philosophers: the display of ingenuity, for the +most part, is and always has been it. I must here offer you an opinion +of my own, which, if you think well of me, you will pardon, though you +should disbelieve its solidity. My opinion then is, that truth is not +reasonably the main and ultimate object of philosophy; but that +philosophy should seek truth merely as the means of acquiring and of +propagating happiness. Truths are simple; wisdom, which is formed by +their apposition and application, is concrete: out of this, in its +vast varieties, open to our wants and wishes, comes happiness. But the +knowledge of all the truths ever yet discovered does not lead +immediately to it, nor indeed will ever reach it, unless you make the +more important of them bear upon your heart and intellect, and form, +as it were, the blood that moves and nurtures them. + +_Rousseau._ I never until now entertained a doubt that truth is the +ultimate aim and object of philosophy: no writer has denied it, I +think. + +_Malesherbes._ Designedly none may: but when it is agreed that +happiness is the chief good, it must also be agreed that the chief +wisdom will pursue it; and I have already said, what your own +experience cannot but have pointed out to you, that no truth, or +series of truths, hypothetically, can communicate or attain it. Come, +M. Rousseau, tell me candidly, do you derive no pleasure from a sense +of superiority in genius and independence? + +_Rousseau._ The highest, sir, from a consciousness of independence. + +_Malesherbes._ _Ingenuous_ is the epithet we affix to modesty, but +modesty often makes men act otherwise than ingenuously: you, for +example, now. You are angry at the servility of people, and disgusted +at their obtuseness and indifference, on matters of most import to +their welfare. If they were equal to you, this anger would cease; but +the fire would break out somewhere else, on ground which appears at +present sound and level. Voltaire, for instance, is less eloquent than +you: but Voltaire is wittier than any man living. This quality---- + +_Rousseau._ Is the quality of a buffoon and a courtier. But the +buffoon should have most of it, to support his higher dignity. + +_Malesherbes._ Voltaire's is Attic. + +_Rousseau_. If malignity is Attic. Petulance is not wit, although a +few grains of wit may be found in petulance: quartz is not gold, +although a few grains of gold may be found in quartz. Voltaire is a +monkey in mischief, and a spaniel in obsequiousness. He declaims +against the cruel and tyrannical; and he kisses the hands of +adulteresses who murder their husbands, and of robbers who decimate +their gang. + +_Malesherbes._ I will not discuss with you the character of the man, +and only that part of the author's on which I spoke. There may be +malignity in wit, there cannot be violence. You may irritate and +disquiet with it; but it must be by means of a flower or a feather. +Wit and humour stand on one side, irony and sarcasm on the other. + +_Rousseau._ They are in near neighbourhood. + +_Malesherbes._ So are the Elysian fields and Tartarus. + +_Rousseau._ Pray, go on: teach me to stand quiet in my stall, while my +masters and managers pass by. + +_Malesherbes._ Well then--Pascal argues as closely and methodically; +Bossuet is as scientific in the structure of his sentences; +Demosthenes, many think, has equal fire, vigour, dexterity: equal +selection of topics and equal temperance in treating them, +immeasurably as he falls short of you in appeals to the sensibility, +and in everything which by way of excellence we usually call genius. + +_Rousseau._ Sir, I see no resemblance between a pleader at the bar, or +a haranguer of the populace, and me. + +_Malesherbes._ Certainly his questions are occasional: but one great +question hangs in the centre, and high above the rest; and this is, +whether the Mother of liberty and civilization shall exist, or whether +she shall be extinguished in the bosom of her family. As we often +apply to Eloquence and her parts the terms we apply to Architecture +and hers, let me do it also, and remark that nothing can be more +simple, solid, and symmetrical, nothing more frugal in decoration or +more appropriate in distribution, than the apartments of Demosthenes. +Yours excel them in space and altitude; your ornaments are equally +chaste and beautiful, with more variety and invention, more airiness +and light. But why, among the Loves and Graces, does Apollo flay +Marsyas?--and why may not the tiara still cover the ears of Midas? +Cannot you, who detest kings and courtiers, keep away from them? If I +must be with them, let me be in good humour and good spirits. If I +will tread upon a Persian carpet, let it at least be in clean shoes. + +As the raciest wine makes the sharpest vinegar, so the richest fancies +turn the most readily to acrimony. Keep yours, my dear M. Rousseau, +from the exposure and heats that generate it. Be contented; enjoy your +fine imagination; and do not throw your salad out of window, nor shove +your cat off your knee, on hearing it said that Shakespeare has a +finer, or that a minister is of opinion that you know more of music +than of state. My friend! the quarrels of ingenious men are generally +far less reasonable and just, less placable and moderate, than those +of the stupid and ignorant. We ought to blush at this: and we should +blush yet more deeply if we bring them in as parties to our +differences. Let us conquer by kindness; which we cannot do easily or +well without communication. + +_Rousseau._ The minister would expel me from his antechamber, and +order his valets to buffet me, if I offered him any proposal for the +advantage of mankind. + +_Malesherbes._ Call to him, then, from this room, where the valets are +civiler. Nature has given you a speaking-trumpet, which neither storm +can drown nor enemy can silence. If you esteem him, instruct him; if +you despise him, do the same. Surely, you who have much benevolence +would not despise any one willingly or unnecessarily. Contempt is for +the incorrigible: now, where upon earth is he whom your genius, if +rightly and temperately exerted, would not influence and correct? + +I never was more flattered or honoured than by your patience in +listening to me. Consider me as an old woman who sits by the bedside +in your infirmity, who brings you no savoury viand, no exotic fruit, +but a basin of whey or a basket of strawberries from your native +hills; assures you that what oppressed you was a dream, occasioned by +the wrong position in which you lay; opens the window, gives you fresh +air, and entreats you to recollect the features of Nature, and to +observe (which no man ever did so accurately) their beauty. In your +politics you cut down a forest to make a toothpick, and cannot make +even that out of it! Do not let us in jurisprudence be like critics in +the classics, and change whatever can be changed, right or wrong. No +statesman will take your advice. Supposing that any one is liberal in +his sentiments and clear-sighted in his views, nevertheless love of +power is jealous, and he would rejoice to see you fleeing from +persecution or turning to meet it. The very men whom you would benefit +will treat you worse. As the ministers of kings wish their masters to +possess absolute power that the exercise of it may be delegated to +them, which it naturally is from the violence and sloth alternate with +despots as with wild beasts, and that they may apprehend no check or +control from those who discover their misdemeanours, in like manner +the people places more trust in favour than in fortune, and hopes to +obtain by subserviency what it never might by election or by chance. +Else in free governments, so some are called (for names once given are +the last things lost), all minor offices and employments would be +assigned by ballot. Each province or canton would present a list +annually of such persons in it as are worthy to occupy the local +administrations. + +To avoid any allusion to the country in which we live, let us take +England for example. Is it not absurd, iniquitous, and revolting, that +the minister of a church in Yorkshire should be appointed by a lawyer +in London, who never knew him, never saw him, never heard from a +single one of the parishioners a recommendation of any kind? Is it not +more reasonable that a justice of the peace should be chosen by those +who have always been witnesses of his integrity? + +_Rousseau._ The king should appoint his ministers, and should invest +them with power and splendour; but those ministers should not appoint +to any civil or religious place of trust or profit which the community +could manifestly fill better. The greater part of offices and +dignities should be conferred for a short and stated time, that all +might hope to attain and strive to deserve them. Embassies in +particular should never exceed one year in Europe, nor consulates two. +To the latter office I assign this duration as the more difficult to +fulfil properly, from requiring a knowledge of trade, although a +slight one, and because those who possess any such knowledge are +inclined for the greater part to turn it to their own account, which a +consul ought by no means to do. Frequent election of representatives +and of civil officers in the subordinate employments would remove most +causes of discontent in the people, and of instability in kingly +power. Here is a lottery in which every one is sure of a prize, if not +for himself, at least for somebody in his family or among his friends; +and the ticket would be fairly paid for out of the taxes. + +_Malesherbes._ So it appears to me. What other system can present so +obviously to the great mass of the people the two principal piers and +buttresses of government, tangible interest and reasonable hope? No +danger of any kind can arise from it, no antipathies, no divisions, no +imposture of demagogues, no caprice of despots. On the contrary, many +and great advantages in places which at the first survey do not appear +to border on it. At present, the best of the English juridical +institutions, that of justices of the peace, is viewed with diffidence +and distrust. Elected as they would be, and increased in number, the +whole judicature, civil and criminal, might be confided to them, and +their labours be not only not aggravated but diminished. Suppose them +in four divisions to meet at four places in every county once in +twenty days, and to possess the power of imposing a fine not exceeding +two hundred francs on every cause implying oppression, and one not +exceeding fifty on such as they should unanimously declare frivolous. + +_Rousseau._ Few would become attorneys, and those from among the +indigent. + +_Malesherbes._ Almost the greatest evil that exists in the world, +moral or physical, would be removed. A second appeal might be made in +the following session; a third could only come before Parliament, and +this alone by means of attorneys, the number of whom altogether would +not exceed the number of coroners; for in England there are as many +who cut their own throats as who would cut their own purses. + +_Rousseau._ The famous _trial by jury_ would cease: this would disgust +the English. + +_Malesherbes._ The number of justices would be much augmented: nearly +all those who now are jurymen would enjoy this rank and dignity, and +would be flattered by sitting on the same bench with the first +gentlemen of the land. + +_Rousseau._ What number would sit? + +_Malesherbes._ Three or five in the first instance; five or seven in +the second--as the number of causes should permit. + +_Rousseau._ The laws of England are extremely intricate and perplexed: +such men would be puzzled. + +_Malesherbes._ Such men having no interest in the perplexity, but on +the contrary an interest in unravelling it, would see such laws +corrected. Intricate as they are, questions on those which are the +most so are usually referred by the judges themselves to private +arbitration; of which my plan, I conceive, has all the advantages, +united to those of open and free discussion among men of unperverted +sense, and unbiased by professional hopes and interests. The different +courts of law in England cost about seventy millions of francs +annually. On my system, the justices or judges would receive +five-and-twenty francs daily; as the _special jurymen_ do now, without +any sense of shame or impropriety, however rich they may be: such +being the established practice. + +_Rousseau._ Seventy millions! seventy millions! + +_Malesherbes._ There are attorneys and conveyancers in London who gain +one hundred thousand francs a year, and advocates more. The +chancellor---- + +_Rousseau._ The Celeno of these harpies---- + +_Malesherbes._ Nets above one million, and is greatly more than an +archbishop in the Church, scattering preferment in Cumberland and +Cornwall from his bench at Westminster. + +_Rousseau._ Absurdities and enormities are great in proportion to +custom or insuetude. If we had lived from childhood with a boa +constrictor, we should think it no more a monster than a canary-bird. +The sum you mentioned, of seventy millions, is incredible. + +_Malesherbes._ In this estimate the expense of letters by the post, +and of journeys made by the parties, is not and cannot be included. + +_Rousseau._ The whole machine of government, civil and religious, +ought never to bear upon the people with a weight so oppressive. I do +not add the national defence, which being principally naval is more +costly, nor institutions for the promotion of the arts, which in a +country like England ought to be liberal. But such an expenditure +should nearly suffice for these also, in time of peace. Religion and +law indeed should cost nothing: at present the one hangs property, the +other quarters it. I am confounded at the profusion. I doubt whether +the Romans expended so much in that year's war which dissolved the +Carthaginian empire, and left them masters of the universe. What is +certain, and what is better, it did not cost a tenth of it to colonize +Pennsylvania, in whose forests the cradle of freedom is suspended, and +where the eye of philanthropy, tired with tears and vigils, may wander +and may rest. Your system, or rather your arrangement of one already +established, pleases me. Ministers would only lose thereby that +portion of their possessions which they give away to needy relatives, +unworthy dependants, or the requisite supporters of their authority +and power. + +_Malesherbes._ On this plan, no such supporters would be necessary, no +such dependants could exist, and no such relatives could be +disappointed. Beside, the conflicts of their opponents must be +periodical, weak, and irregular. + +_Rousseau._ The craving for the rich carrion would be less keen; the +zeal of opposition, as usual, would be measured by the stomach, +whereon hope and overlooking have always a strong influence. + +_Malesherbes._ My excellent friend, do not be offended with me for an +ingenuous and frank confession: promise me your pardon. + +_Rousseau._ You need none. + +_Malesherbes._ Promise it, nevertheless. + +_Rousseau._ You have said nothing, done nothing, which could in any +way displease me. + +_Malesherbes._ You grant me, then, a bill of indemnity for what I may +have undertaken with a good intention since we have been together? + +_Rousseau._ Willingly. + +_Malesherbes._ I fell into your views, I walked along with you side by +side, merely to occupy your mind, which I perceived was agitated. + +In compliance with your humour, to engage your fancy, to divert it +awhile from Switzerland, by which you appear and partly on my account +to be offended, I began with reflections upon England: I raised up +another cloud in the region of them, light enough to be fantastic and +diaphanous, and to catch some little irradiation from its western +sun. Do not run after it farther; it has vanished already. Consider: +the three great nations---- + +_Rousseau._ Pray, which are those? + +_Malesherbes._ I cannot in conscience give the palm to the Hottentots, +the Greenlanders, or the Hurons: I meant to designate those who united +to empire the most social virtue and civil freedom. Athens, Rome, and +England have received on the subject of government elaborate treatises +from their greatest men. You have reasoned more dispassionately and +profoundly on it than Plato has done, or probably than Cicero, led +away as he often is by the authority of those who are inferior to +himself: but do you excel Aristoteles in calm and patient +investigation? Or, think you, are your reading and range of thought +more extensive than Harrington's and Milton's? Yet what effect have +the political works of these marvellous men produced upon the +world?--what effect upon any one state, any one city, any one hamlet? +A clerk in office, an accountant, a gauger of small beer, a songwriter +for a tavern dinner, produces more. He thrusts his rags into the hole +whence the wind comes, and sleeps soundly. While you and I are talking +about elevations and proportions, pillars and pilasters, architraves +and friezes, the buildings we should repair are falling to the earth, +and the materials for their restoration are in the quarry. + +_Rousseau._ I could answer you: but my mind has certain moments of +repose, or rather of oscillation, which I would not for the world +disturb. Music, eloquence, friendship, bring and prolong them. + +_Malesherbes._ Enjoy them, my dear friend, and convert them if +possible to months and years. It is as much at your arbitration on +what theme you shall meditate, as in what meadow you shall botanize; +and you have as much at your option the choice of your thoughts, as of +the keys in your harpsichord. + +_Rousseau._ If this were true, who could be unhappy? + +_Malesherbes._ Those of whom it is not true. Those who from want of +practice cannot manage their thoughts, who have few to select from, +and who, because of their sloth or of their weakness, do not roll away +the heaviest from before them. + + + + +LUCULLUS AND CAESAR + + +_Caesar._ Lucius Lucullus, I come to you privately and unattended for +reasons which you will know; confiding, I dare not say in your +friendship, since no service of mine toward you hath deserved it, but +in your generous and disinterested love of peace. Hear me on. Cneius +Pompeius, according to the report of my connexions in the city, had, +on the instant of my leaving it for the province, begun to solicit his +dependants to strip me ignominiously of authority. Neither vows nor +affinity can bind him. He would degrade the father of his wife; he +would humiliate his own children, the unoffending, the unborn; he +would poison his own nascent love--at the suggestion of Ambition. +Matters are now brought so far, that either he or I must submit to a +reverse of fortune; since no concession can assuage his malice, divert +his envy, or gratify his cupidity. No sooner could I raise myself up, +from the consternation and stupefaction into which the certainty of +these reports had thrown me, than I began to consider in what manner +my own private afflictions might become the least noxious to the +republic. Into whose arms, then, could I throw myself more naturally +and more securely, to whose bosom could I commit and consign more +sacredly the hopes and destinies of our beloved country, than his who +laid down power in the midst of its enjoyments, in the vigour of +youth, in the pride of triumph, when Dignity solicited, when +Friendship urged, entreated, supplicated, and when Liberty herself +invited and beckoned to him from the senatorial order and from the +curule chair? Betrayed and abandoned by those we had confided in, our +next friendship, if ever our hearts receive any, or if any will +venture in those places of desolation, flies forward instinctively to +what is most contrary and dissimilar. Caesar is hence the visitant of +Lucullus. + +_Lucullus._ I had always thought Pompeius more moderate and more +reserved than you represent him, Caius Julius; and yet I am considered +in general, and surely you also will consider me, but little liable to +be prepossessed by him. + +_Caesar._ Unless he may have ingratiated himself with you recently, +by the administration of that worthy whom last winter his partisans +dragged before the Senate, and forced to assert publicly that you and +Cato had instigated a party to circumvent and murder him; and whose +carcass, a few days afterward, when it had been announced that he had +died by a natural death, was found covered with bruises, stabs, and +dislocations. + +_Lucullus._ You bring much to my memory which had quite slipped out of +it, and I wonder that it could make such an impression on yours. A +proof to me that the interest you take in my behalf began earlier than +your delicacy will permit you to acknowledge. You are fatigued, which +I ought to have perceived before. + +_Caesar._ Not at all; the fresh air has given me life and alertness: I +feel it upon my cheek even in the room. + +_Lucullus._ After our dinner and sleep, we will spend the remainder of +the day on the subject of your visit. + +_Caesar._ Those Ethiopian slaves of yours shiver with cold upon the +mountain here; and truly I myself was not insensible to the change of +climate, in the way from Mutina. + +What white bread! I never found such even at Naples or Capua. This +Formian wine (which I prefer to the Chian), how exquisite! + +_Lucullus._ Such is the urbanity of Caesar, even while he bites his +lip with displeasure. How! surely it bleeds! Permit me to examine the +cup. + +_Caesar._ I believe a jewel has fallen out of the rim in the carriage: +the gold is rough there. + +_Lucullus._ Marcipor, let me never see that cup again! No answer, I +desire. My guest pardons heavier faults. Mind that dinner be prepared +for us shortly. + +_Caesar._ In the meantime, Lucullus, if your health permits it, shall +we walk a few paces round the villa? for I have not seen anything of +the kind before. + +_Lucullus._ The walls are double; the space between them two feet: the +materials for the most part earth and straw. Two hundred slaves, and +about as many mules and oxen, brought the beams and rafters up the +mountain; my architects fixed them at once in their places: every part +was ready, even the wooden nails. The roof is thatched, you see. + +_Caesar._ Is there no danger that so light a material should be +carried off by the winds, on such an eminence? + +_Lucullus._ None resists them equally well. + +_Caesar._ On this immensely high mountain, I should be apprehensive of +the lightning, which the poets, and I think the philosophers too, have +told us strikes the highest. + +_Lucullus._ The poets are right; for whatever is received as truth is +truth in poetry; and a fable may illustrate like a fact. But the +philosophers are wrong, as they generally are, even in the commonest +things; because they seldom look beyond their own tenets, unless +through captiousness, and because they argue more than they meditate, +and display more than they examine. Archimedes and Euclid are, in my +opinion, after our Epicurus, the worthiest of the name, having kept +apart to the demonstrable, the practical, and the useful. Many of the +rest are good writers and good disputants; but unfaithful suitors of +simple science, boasters of their acquaintance with gods and +goddesses, plagiarists and impostors. I had forgotten my roof, +although it is composed of much the same materials as the +philosophers'. Let the lightning fall: one handful of silver, or less, +repairs the damage. + +_Caesar._ Impossible! nor indeed one thousand, nor twenty, if those +tapestries and pictures are consumed. + +_Lucullus._ True; but only the thatch would burn. For, before the +baths were tessellated, I filled the area with alum and water, and +soaked the timbers and laths for many months, and covered them +afterward with alum in powder, by means of liquid glue. Mithridates +taught me this. Having in vain attacked with combustibles a wooden +tower, I took it by stratagem, and found within it a mass of alum, +which, if a great hurry had not been observed by us among the enemy in +the attempt to conceal it, would have escaped our notice. I never +scrupled to extort the truth from my prisoners; but my instruments +were purple robes and plate, and the only wheel in my armoury destined +to such purposes was the wheel of Fortune. + +_Caesar._ I wish, in my campaigns, I could have equalled your clemency +and humanity; but the Gauls are more uncertain, fierce, and perfidious +than the wildest tribes of Caucasus; and our policy cannot be carried +with us, it must be formed upon the spot. They love you, not for +abstaining from hurting them, but for ceasing; and they embrace you +only at two seasons--when stripes are fresh, or when stripes are +imminent. Elsewhere, I hope to become the rival of Lucullus in this +admirable part of virtue. + +I shall never build villas, because--but what are your proportions? +Surely the edifice is extremely low. + +_Lucullus._ There is only one floor; the height of the apartments is +twenty feet to the cornice, five above it; the breadth is twenty-five, +the length forty. The building, as you perceive, is quadrangular: +three sides contain four rooms each; the other has many partitions and +two stories, for domestics and offices. Here is my salt-bath. + +_Caesar._ A bath, indeed, for all the Nereids named by Hesiod, with +room enough for the Tritons and their herds and horses. + +_Lucullus._ Here stand my two cows. Their milk is brought to me with +its warmth and froth; for it loses its salubrity both by repose and by +motion. Pardon me, Caesar: I shall appear to you to have forgotten +that I am not conducting Marcus Varro. + +_Caesar._ You would convert him into Cacus: he would drive them off. +What beautiful beasts! how sleek and white and cleanly! I never saw +any like them, excepting when we sacrifice to Jupiter the stately +leader from the pastures of the Clitumnus. + +_Lucullus._ Often do I make a visit to these quiet creatures, and with +no less pleasure than in former days to my horses. Nor indeed can I +much wonder that whole nations have been consentaneous in treating +them as objects of devotion: the only thing wonderful is that +gratitude seems to have acted as powerfully and extensively as fear; +indeed, more extensively, for no object of worship whatever has +attracted so many worshippers. Where Jupiter has one, the cow has ten: +she was venerated before he was born, and will be when even the +carvers have forgotten him. + +_Caesar._ Unwillingly should I see it; for the character of our gods +hath formed the character of our nation. Serapis and Isis have stolen +in among them within our memory, and others will follow, until at last +Saturn will not be the only one emasculated by his successor. What can +be more august than our rites? The first dignitaries of the republic +are emulous to administer them: nothing of low or venal has any place +in them; nothing pusillanimous, nothing unsocial and austere. I speak +of them as they were; before Superstition woke up again from her +slumber, and caught to her bosom with maternal love the alluvial +monsters of the Nile. Philosophy, never fit for the people, had +entered the best houses, and the image of Epicurus had taken the place +of the Lemures. But men cannot bear to be deprived long together of +anything they are used to, not even of their fears; and, by a reaction +of the mind appertaining to our nature, new stimulants were looked +for, not on the side of pleasure, where nothing new could be expected +or imagined, but on the opposite. Irreligion is followed by +fanaticism, and fanaticism by irreligion, alternately and perpetually. + +_Lucullus._ The religion of our country, as you observe, is well +adapted to its inhabitants. Our progenitor, Mars, hath Venus recumbent +on his breast and looking up to him, teaching us that pleasure is to +be sought in the bosom of valour and by the means of war. No great +alteration, I think, will ever be made in our rites and +ceremonies--the best and most imposing that could be collected from +all nations, and uniting them to us by our complacence in adopting +them. The gods themselves may change names, to flatter new power: and, +indeed, as we degenerate, Religion will accommodate herself to our +propensities and desires. Our heaven is now popular: it will become +monarchal; not without a crowded court, as befits it, of apparitors +and satellites and minions of both sexes, paid and caressed for +carrying to their stern, dark-bearded master prayers and +supplications. Altars must be strown with broken minds, and incense +rise amid abject aspirations. Gods will be found unfit for their +places; and it is not impossible that, in the ruin imminent from our +contentions for power, and in the necessary extinction both of ancient +families and of generous sentiments, our consular fasces may become +the water-sprinklers of some upstart priesthood, and that my son may +apply for lustration to the son of my groom. The interest of such men +requires that the spirit of arms and of arts be extinguished. They +will predicate peace, that the people may be tractable to them; but a +religion altogether pacific is the fomenter of wars and the nurse of +crimes, alluring Sloth from within and Violence from afar. If ever it +should prevail among the Romans, it must prevail alone: for nations +more vigorous and energetic will invade them, close upon them, trample +them under foot; and the name of Roman, which is now the most +glorious, will become the most opprobrious upon earth. + +_Caesar._ The time, I hope, may be distant; for next to my own name I +hold my country's. + +_Lucullus._ Mine, not coming from Troy or Ida, is lower in my +estimation: I place my country's first. + +You are surveying the little lake beside us. It contains no fish, +birds never alight on it, the water is extremely pure and cold; the +walk round is pleasant, not only because there is always a gentle +breeze from it, but because the turf is fine and the surface of the +mountain on this summit is perfectly on a level to a great extent in +length--not a trifling advantage to me, who walk often and am weak. I +have no alley, no garden, no enclosure; the park is in the vale below, +where a brook supplies the ponds, and where my servants are lodged; +for here I have only twelve in attendance. + +_Caesar._ What is that so white, towards the Adriatic? + +_Lucullus._ The Adriatic itself. Turn round and you may descry the +Tuscan Sea. Our situation is reported to be among the highest of the +Apennines. Marcipor has made the sign to me that dinner is ready. Pass +this way. + +_Caesar._ What a library is here! Ah, Marcus Tullius! I salute thy +image. Why frownest thou upon me--collecting the consular robe and +uplifting the right arm, as when Rome stood firm again, and Catiline +fled before thee? + +_Lucullus._ Just so; such was the action the statuary chose, as adding +a new endearment to the memory of my absent friend. + +_Caesar._ Sylla, who honoured you above all men, is not here. + +_Lucullus._ I have his _Commentaries_: he inscribed them, as you know, +to me. Something even of our benefactors may be forgotten, and +gratitude be unreproved. + +_Caesar._ The impression on that couch, and the two fresh honeysuckles +in the leaves of those two books, would show, even to a stranger, that +this room is peculiarly the master's. Are they sacred? + +_Lucullus._ To me and Caesar. + +_Caesar._ I would have asked permission---- + +_Lucullus._ Caius Julius, you have nothing to ask of Polybius and +Thucydides; nor of Xenophon, the next to them on the table. + +_Caesar._ Thucydides! the most generous, the most unprejudiced, the +most sagacious, of historians. Now, Lucullus, you whose judgment in +style is more accurate than any other Roman's, do tell me whether a +commander, desirous of writing his _Commentaries_, could take to +himself a more perfect model than Thucydides? + +_Lucullus._ Nothing is more perfect, nor ever will be: the scholar of +Pericles, the master of Demosthenes, the equal of the one in military +science, and of the other not the inferior in civil and forensic; the +calm dispassionate judge of the general by whom he was defeated, his +defender, his encomiast. To talk of such men is conducive not only to +virtue but to health. + + * * * * * + +This other is my dining-room. You expect the dishes. + +_Caesar._ I misunderstood--I fancied---- + +_Lucullus._ Repose yourself, and touch with the ebony wand, beside +you, the sphinx on either of those obelisks, right or left. + +_Caesar._ Let me look at them first. + +_Lucullus._ The contrivance was intended for one person, or two at +most, desirous of privacy and quiet. The blocks of jasper in my pair, +and of porphyry in yours, easily yield in their grooves, each forming +one partition. There are four, containing four platforms. The lower +holds four dishes, such as sucking forest-boars, venison, hares, +tunnies, sturgeons, which you will find within; the upper three, eight +each, but diminutive. The confectionery is brought separately, for the +steam would spoil it, if any should escape. The melons are in the +snow, thirty feet under us: they came early this morning from a place +in the vicinity of Luni, travelling by night. + +_Caesar._ I wonder not at anything of refined elegance in Lucullus; +but really here Antiochia and Alexandria seem to have cooked for us, +and magicians to be our attendants. + +_Lucullus._ The absence of slaves from our repast is the luxury, for +Marcipor alone enters, and he only when I press a spring with my foot +or wand. When you desire his appearance, touch that chalcedony just +before you. + +_Caesar._ I eat quick and rather plentifully; yet the valetudinarian +(excuse my rusticity, for I rejoice at seeing it) appears to equal the +traveller in appetite, and to be contented with one dish. + +_Lucullus._ It is milk: such, with strawberries, which ripen on the +Apennines many months in continuance, and some other berries of sharp +and grateful flavour, has been my only diet since my first residence +here. The state of my health requires it; and the habitude of nearly +three months renders this food not only more commodious to my studies +and more conducive to my sleep, but also more agreeable to my palate +than any other. + +_Caesar._ Returning to Rome or Baiae, you must domesticate and tame +them. The cherries you introduced from Pontus are now growing in +Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul; and the largest and best in the +world, perhaps, are upon the more sterile side of Lake Larius. + +_Lucullus._ There are some fruits, and some virtues, which require a +harsh soil and bleak exposure for their perfection. + +_Caesar._ In such a profusion of viands, and so savoury, I perceive no +odour. + +_Lucullus._ A flue conducts heat through the compartments of the +obelisks; and, if you look up, you may observe that those gilt roses, +between the astragals in the cornice, are prominent from it half a +span. Here is an aperture in the wall, between which and the outer is +a perpetual current of air. We are now in the dog-days; and I have +never felt in the whole summer more heat than at Rome in many days of +March. + +_Caesar._ Usually you are attended by troops of domestics and of +dinner-friends, not to mention the learned and scientific, nor your +own family, your attachment to which, from youth upward, is one of the +higher graces in your character. Your brother was seldom absent from +you. + +_Lucullus._ Marcus was coming; but the vehement heats along the Arno, +in which valley he has a property he never saw before, inflamed his +blood, and he now is resting for a few days at Faesulae, a little town +destroyed by Sylla within our memory, who left it only air and water, +the best in Tuscany. The health of Marcus, like mine, has been +declining for several months: we are running our last race against +each other, and never was I, in youth along the Tiber, so anxious of +first reaching the goal. I would not outlive him: I should reflect too +painfully on earlier days, and look forward too despondently on +future. As for friends, lampreys and turbots beget them, and they +spawn not amid the solitude of the Apennines. To dine in company with +more than two is a Gaulish and German thing. I can hardly bring myself +to believe that I have eaten in concert with twenty; so barbarous and +herdlike a practice does not now appeal to me--such an incentive to +drink much and talk loosely; not to add, such a necessity to speak +loud, which is clownish and odious in the extreme. On this mountain +summit I hear no noises, no voices, not even of salutation; we have no +flies about us, and scarcely an insect or reptile. + +_Caesar._ Your amiable son is probably with his uncle: is he well? + +_Lucullus._ Perfectly. He was indeed with my brother in his intended +visit to me; but Marcus, unable to accompany him hither, or +superintend his studies in the present state of his health, sent him +directly to his Uncle Cato at Tusculum--a man fitter than either of us +to direct his education, and preferable to any, excepting yourself and +Marcus Tullius, in eloquence and urbanity. + +_Caesar._ Cato is so great, that whoever is greater must be the +happiest and first of men. + +_Lucullus._ That any such be still existing, O Julius, ought to excite +no groan from the breast of a Roman citizen. But perhaps I wrong you; +perhaps your mind was forced reluctantly back again, on your past +animosities and contests in the Senate. + +_Caesar._ I revere him, but cannot love him. + +_Lucullus._ Then, Caius Julius, you groaned with reason; and I would +pity rather than reprove you. + +On the ceiling at which you are looking, there is no gilding, and +little painting--a mere trellis of vines bearing grapes, and the +heads, shoulders, and arms rising from the cornice only, of boys and +girls climbing up to steal them, and scrambling for them: nothing +overhead; no giants tumbling down, no Jupiter thundering, no Mars and +Venus caught at mid-day, no river-gods pouring out their urns upon us; +for, as I think nothing so insipid as a flat ceiling, I think nothing +so absurd as a storied one. Before I was aware, and without my +participation, the painter had adorned that of my bedchamber with a +golden shower, bursting from varied and irradiated clouds. On my +expostulation, his excuse was that he knew the Danae of Scopas, in a +recumbent posture, was to occupy the centre of the room. The walls, +behind the tapestry and pictures, are quite rough. In forty-three days +the whole fabric was put together and habitable. + +The wine has probably lost its freshness: will you try some other? + +_Caesar._ Its temperature is exact; its flavour exquisite. Latterly I +have never sat long after dinner, and am curious to pass through the +other apartments, if you will trust me. + +_Lucullus._ I attend you. + +_Caesar._ Lucullus, who is here? What figure is that on the poop of +the vessel? Can it be---- + +_Lucullus._ The subject was dictated by myself; you gave it. + +_Caesar._ Oh, how beautifully is the water painted! How vividly the +sun strikes against the snows on Taurus! The grey temples and pierhead +of Tarsus catch it differently, and the monumental mound on the left +is half in shade. In the countenance of those pirates I did not +observe such diversity, nor that any boy pulled his father back: I did +not indeed mark them or notice them at all. + +_Lucullus._ The painter in this fresco, the last work finished, had +dissatisfied me in one particular. 'That beautiful young face,' said +I, 'appears not to threaten death.' + +'Lucius,' he replied, 'if one muscle were moved it were not Caesar's: +beside, he said it jokingly, though resolved.' + +'I am contented with your apology, Antipho; but what are you doing +now? for you never lay down or suspend your pencil, let who will talk +and argue. The lines of that smaller face in the distance are the +same.' + +'Not the same,' replied he, 'nor very different: it smiles, as surely +the goddess must have done at the first heroic act of her descendant.' + +_Caesar._ In her exultation and impatience to press forward she seems +to forget that she is standing at the extremity of the shell, which +rises up behind out of the water; and she takes no notice of the +terror on the countenance of this Cupid who would detain her, nor of +this who is flying off and looking back. The reflection of the shell +has given a warmer hue below the knee; a long streak of yellow light +in the horizon is on the level of her bosom, some of her hair is +almost lost in it; above her head on every side is the pure azure of +the heavens. + +Oh! and you would not have shown me this? You, among whose primary +studies is the most perfect satisfaction of your guests! + +_Lucullus._ In the next apartment are seven or eight other pictures +from our history. + +There are no more: what do you look for? + +_Caesar._ I find not among the rest any descriptive of your own +exploits. Ah, Lucullus! there is no surer way of making them +remembered. + +This, I presume by the harps in the two corners, is the music-room. + +_Lucullus._ No, indeed; nor can I be said to have one here; for I love +best the music of a single instrument, and listen to it willingly at +all times, but most willingly while I am reading. At such seasons a +voice or even a whisper disturbs me; but music refreshes my brain when +I have read long, and strengthen it from the beginning. I find also +that if I write anything in poetry (a youthful propensity still +remaining), it gives rapidity and variety and brightness to my ideas. +On ceasing, I command a fresh measure and instrument, or another +voice; which is to the mind like a change of posture, or of air to the +body. My heal this benefited by the gentle play thus opened to the +most delicate of the fibres. + +_Caesar._ Let me augur that a disorder so tractable may be soon +removed. What is it thought to be? + +_Lucullus._ I am inclined to think, and my physician did not long +attempt to persuade me of the contrary, that the ancient realms of +Aeaetes have supplied me with some other plants than the cherry, and +such as I should be sorry to see domesticated here in Italy. + +_Caesar._ The gods forbid! Anticipate better things! The reason of +Lucullus is stronger than the medicaments of Mithridates; but why not +use them too? Let nothing be neglected. You may reasonably hope for +many years of life: your mother still enjoys it. + +_Lucullus._ To stand upon one's guard against Death exasperates her +malice and protracts our sufferings. + +_Caesar._ Rightly and gravely said: but your country at this time +cannot do well without you. + +_Lucullus._ The bowl of milk, which to-day is presented to me, will +shortly be presented to my Manes. + +_Caesar._ Do you suspect the hand? + +_Lucullus._ I will not suspect a Roman: let us converse no more about +it. + +_Caesar._ It is the only subject on which I am resolved never to +think, as relates to myself. Life may concern us, death not; for in +death we neither can act nor reason, we neither can persuade nor +command; and our statues are worth more than we are, let them be but +wax. + + * * * * * + +_Lucullus._ From being for ever in action, for ever in contention, and +from excelling in them all other mortals, what advantage derive we? I +would not ask what satisfaction, what glory? The insects have more +activity than ourselves, the beasts more strength, even inert matter +more firmness and stability; the gods alone more goodness. To the +exercise of this every country lies open; and neither I eastward nor +you westward have found any exhausted by contests for it. + +Must we give men blows because they will not look at us? or chain them +to make them hold the balance evener? + +Do not expect to be acknowledged for what you are, much less for what +you would be; since no one can well measure a great man but upon the +bier. There was a time when the most ardent friend to Alexander of +Macedon would have embraced the partisan for his enthusiasm, who +should have compared him with Alexander of Pherae. It must have been +at a splendid feast, and late at it, when Scipio should have been +raised to an equality with Romulus, or Cato with Curius. It has been +whispered in my ear, after a speech of Cicero, 'If he goes on so, he +will tread down the sandal of Marcus Antonius in the long run, and +perhaps leave Hortensius behind.' Officers of mine, speaking about +you, have exclaimed with admiration: 'He fights like Cinna.' Think, +Caius Julius (for you have been instructed to think both as a poet and +as a philosopher), that among the hundred hands of Ambition, to whom +we may attribute them more properly than to Briareus, there is not one +which holds anything firmly. In the precipitancy of her course, what +appears great is small, and what appears small is great. Our estimate +of men is apt to be as inaccurate and inexact as that of things, or +more. Wishing to have all on our side, we often leave those we should +keep by us, run after those we should avoid, and call importunately on +others who sit quiet and will not come. We cannot at once catch the +applause of the vulgar and expect the approbation of the wise. What +are parties? Do men really great ever enter into them? Are they not +ball-courts, where ragged adventurers strip and strive, and where +dissolute youths abuse one another, and challenge and game and wager? +If you and I cannot quite divest ourselves of infirmities and +passions, let us think, however, that there is enough in us to be +divided into two portions, and let us keep the upper undisturbed and +pure. A part of Olympus itself lies in dreariness and in clouds, +variable and stormy; but it is not the highest: there the gods govern. +Your soul is large enough to embrace your country: all other affection +is for less objects, and less men are capable of it. Abandon, O +Caesar! such thoughts and wishes as now agitate and propel you: leave +them to mere men of the marsh, to fat hearts and miry intellects. +Fortunate may we call ourselves to have been born in an age so +productive of eloquence, so rich in erudition. Neither of us would be +excluded, or hooted at, on canvassing for these honours. He who can +think dispassionately and deeply as I do, is great as I am; none +other. But his opinions are at freedom to diverge from mine, as mine +are from his; and indeed, on recollection, I never loved those most +who thought with me, but those rather who deemed my sentiments worth +discussion, and who corrected me with frankness and affability. + +_Caesar._ Lucullus, you perhaps have taken the wiser and better part, +certainly the pleasanter. I cannot argue with you: I would gladly hear +one who could, but you again more gladly. I should think unworthily of +you if I thought you capable of yielding or receding. I do not even +ask you to keep our conversation long a secret, so greatly does it +preponderate in your favour; so much more of gentleness, of eloquence, +and of argument. I came hither with one soldier, avoiding the cities, +and sleeping at the villa of a confidential friend. To-night I sleep +in yours, and, if your dinner does not disturb me, shall sleep +soundly. You go early to rest I know. + +_Lucullus._ Not, however, by daylight. Be assured, Caius Julius, that +greatly as your discourse afflicts me, no part of it shall escape my +lips. If you approach the city with arms, with arms I meet you; then +your denouncer and enemy, at present your host and confidant. + +_Caesar._ I shall conquer you. + +_Lucullus._ That smile would cease upon it: you sigh already. + +_Caesar._ Yes, Lucullus, if I am oppressed I shall overcome my +oppressor: I know my army and myself. A sigh escaped me, and many more +will follow; but one transport will rise amid them, when, vanquisher +of my enemies and avenger of my dignity, I press again the hand of +Lucullus, mindful of this day. + + + + +EPICURUS, LEONTION, AND TERNISSA + + + * * * * * + +_Ternissa._ The broad and billowy summits of yon monstrous trees, one +would imagine, were made for the storms to rest upon when they are +tired of raving. And what bark! It occurs to me, Epicurus, that I have +rarely seen climbing plants attach themselves to these trees, as they +do to the oak, the maple, the beech, and others. + +_Leontion._ If your remark be true, perhaps the resinous are not +embraced by them so frequently because they dislike the odour of the +resin, or some other property of the juices; for they, too, have their +affections and antipathies no less than countries and their climes. + +_Ternissa._ For shame! what would you with me? + +_Epicurus._ I would not interrupt you while you were speaking, nor +while Leontion was replying; this is against my rules and practice. +Having now ended, kiss me, Ternissa! + +_Ternissa._ Impudent man! in the name of Pallas, why should I kiss +you? + +_Epicurus._ Because you expressed hatred. + +_Ternissa._ Do we kiss when we hate? + +_Epicurus._ There is no better end of hating. The sentiment should not +exist one moment; and if the hater gives a kiss on being ordered to do +it, even to a tree or a stone, that tree or stone becomes the monument +of a fault extinct. + +_Ternissa._ I promise you I never will hate a tree again. + +_Epicurus._ I told you so. + +_Leontion._ Nevertheless, I suspect, my Ternissa, you will often be +surprised into it. I was very near saying, 'I hate these rude square +stones!' Why did you leave them here, Epicurus? + +_Epicurus._ It is true, they are the greater part square, and seem to +have been cut out in ancient times for plinths and columns; they are +also rude. Removing the smaller, that I might plant violets and +cyclamens and convolvuluses and strawberries, and such other herbs as +grow willingly in dry places, I left a few of these for seats, a few +for tables and for couches. + +_Leontion._ Delectable couches! + +_Epicurus._ Laugh as you may, they will become so when they are +covered with moss and ivy, and those other two sweet plants whose +names I do not remember to have found in any ancient treatise, but +which I fancy I have heard Theophrastus call 'Leontion' and +'Ternissa'. + +_Ternissa._ The bold, insidious, false creature! + +_Epicurus._ What is that volume, may I venture to ask, Leontion? Why +do you blush? + +_Leontion._ I do not blush about it. + +_Epicurus._ You are offended, then, my dear girl. + +_Leontion._ No, nor offended. I will tell you presently what it +contains. Account to me first for your choice of so strange a place to +walk in: a broad ridge, the summit and one side barren, the other a +wood of rose-laurels impossible to penetrate. The worst of all is, we +can see nothing of the city or the Parthenon, unless from the very +top. + +_Epicurus._ The place commands, in my opinion, a most perfect view. + +_Leontion._ Of what, pray? + +_Epicurus._ Of itself; seeming to indicate that we, Leontion, who +philosophize, should do the same. + +_Leontion._ Go on, go on! say what you please: I will not hate +anything yet. Why have you torn up by the root all these little +mountain ash-trees? This is the season of their beauty: come, +Ternissa, let us make ourselves necklaces and armlets, such as may +captivate old Sylvanus and Pan; you shall have your choice. But why +have you torn them up? + +_Epicurus._ On the contrary, they were brought hither this morning. +Sosimenes is spending large sums of money on an olive-ground, and has +uprooted some hundreds of them, of all ages and sizes. I shall cover +the rougher part of the hill with them, setting the clematis and vine +and honeysuckle against them, to unite them. + +_Ternissa._ Oh, what a pleasant thing it is to walk in the green light +of the vine trees, and to breathe the sweet odour of their invisible +flowers! + +_Epicurus._ The scent of them is so delicate that it requires a sigh +to inhale it; and this, being accompanied and followed by enjoyment, +renders the fragrance so exquisite. Ternissa, it is this, my sweet +friend, that made you remember the green light of the foliage, and +think of the invisible flowers as you would of some blessing from +heaven. + +_Ternissa._ I see feathers flying at certain distances just above the +middle of the promontory: what can they mean? + +_Epicurus._ Cannot you imagine them to be the feathers from the wings +of Zethes and Calaeis, who came hither out of Thrace to behold the +favourite haunts of their mother Oreithyia? From the precipice that +hangs over the sea a few paces from the pinasters she is reported to +have been carried off by Boreas; and these remains of the primeval +forest have always been held sacred on that belief. + +_Leontion._ The story is an idle one. + +_Ternissa._ Oh no, Leontion! the story is very true. + +_Leontion._ Indeed! + +_Ternissa._ I have heard not only odes, but sacred and most ancient +hymns upon it; and the voice of Boreas is often audible here, and the +screams of Oreithyia. + +_Leontion._ The feathers, then, really may belong to Calaeis and +Zethes. + +_Ternissa._ I don't believe it; the winds would have carried them +away. + +_Leontion._ The gods, to manifest their power, as they often do by +miracles, could as easily fix a feather eternally on the most +tempestuous promontory, as the mark of their feet upon the flint. + +_Ternissa._ They could indeed; but we know the one to a certainty, and +have no such authority for the other. I have seen these pinasters from +the extremity of the Piraeus, and have heard mention of the altar +raised to Boreas: where is it? + +_Epicurus._ As it stands in the centre of the platform, we cannot see +it from hence; there is the only piece of level ground in the place. + +_Leontion._ Ternissa intends the altar to prove the truth of the +story. + +_Epicurus._ Ternissa is slow to admit that even the young can deceive, +much less the old; the gay, much less the serious. + +_Leontion._ It is as wise to moderate our belief as our desires. + +_Epicurus._ Some minds require much belief, some thrive on little. +Rather an exuberance of it is feminine and beautiful. It acts +differently on different hearts; it troubles some, it consoles others; +in the generous it is the nurse of tenderness and kindness, of heroism +and self-devotion; in the ungenerous it fosters pride, impatience of +contradiction and appeal, and, like some waters, what it finds a dry +stick or hollow straw, it leaves a stone. + +_Ternissa._ We want it chiefly to make the way of death an easy one. + +_Epicurus._ There is no easy path leading out of life, and few are the +easy ones that lie within it. I would adorn and smoothen the +declivity, and make my residence as commodious as its situation and +dimensions may allow; but principally I would cast under-foot the +empty fear of death. + +_Ternissa._ Oh, how can you? + +_Epicurus._ By many arguments already laid down: then by thinking that +some perhaps, in almost every age, have been timid and delicate as +Ternissa; and yet have slept soundly, have felt no parent's or +friend's tear upon their faces, no throb against their breasts: in +short, have been in the calmest of all possible conditions, while +those around were in the most deplorable and desperate. + +_Ternissa._ It would pain me to die, if it were only at the idea that +any one I love would grieve too much for me. + +_Epicurus._ Let the loss of our friends be our only grief, and the +apprehension of displeasing them our only fear. + +_Leontion._ No apostrophes! no interjections! Your argument was +unsound; your means futile. + +_Epicurus._ Tell me, then, whether the horse of a rider on the road +should not be spurred forward if he started at a shadow. + +_Leontion._ Yes. + +_Epicurus._ I thought so: it would, however, be better to guide him +quietly up to it, and to show him that it was one. Death is less than +a shadow: it represents nothing, even imperfectly. + +_Leontion._ Then at the best what is it? why care about it, think +about it, or remind us that it must befall us? Would you take the same +trouble, when you see my hair entwined with ivy, to make me remember +that, although the leaves are green and pliable, the stem is fragile +and rough, and that before I go to bed I shall have many knots and +entanglements to extricate? Let me have them; but let me not hear of +them until the time is come. + +_Epicurus._ I would never think of death as an embarrassment, but as a +blessing. + +_Ternissa._ How? a blessing? + +_Epicurus._ What, if it makes our enemies cease to hate us? what, if +it makes our friends love us the more? + +_Leontion._ Us? According to your doctrine we shall not exist at all. + +_Epicurus._ I spoke of that which is consolatory while we are here, +and of that which in plain reason ought to render us contented to stay +no longer. You, Leontion, would make others better; and better they +certainly will be, when their hostilities languish in an empty field, +and their rancour is tired with treading upon dust. The generous +affections stir about us at the dreary hour of death, as the blossoms +of the Median apple swell and diffuse their fragrance in the cold. + +_Ternissa._ I cannot bear to think of passing the Styx, lest Charon +should touch me; he is so old and wilful, so cross and ugly. + +_Epicurus._ Ternissa! Ternissa! I would accompany you thither, and +stand between. Would you not too, Leontion? + +_Leontion._ I don't know. + +_Ternissa._ Oh, that we could go together! + +_Leontion._ Indeed! + +_Ternissa._ All three, I mean--I said--or was going to say it. How +ill-natured you are, Leontion, to misinterpret me; I could almost cry. + +_Leontion._ Do not, do not, Ternissa! Should that tear drop from your +eyelash you would look less beautiful. + +_Epicurus._ If it is well to conquer a world, it is better to conquer +two. + +_Ternissa._ That is what Alexander of Macedon wept because he could +not accomplish. + +_Epicurus._ Ternissa! we three can accomplish it; or any one of us. + +_Ternissa._ How? pray! + +_Epicurus._ We can conquer this world and the next; for you will have +another, and nothing should be refused you. + +_Ternissa._ The next by piety: but this, in what manner? + +_Epicurus._ By indifference to all who are indifferent to us; by +taking joyfully the benefit that comes spontaneously; by wishing no +more intensely for what is a hair's-breadth beyond our reach than for +a draught of water from the Ganges; and by fearing nothing in another +life. + +_Ternissa._ This, O Epicurus! is the grand impossibility. + +_Epicurus._ Do you believe the gods to be as benevolent and good as +you are? or do you not? + +_Ternissa._ Much kinder, much better in every way. + +_Epicurus._ Would you kill or hurt the sparrow that you keep in your +little dressing-room with a string around the leg, because he hath +flown where you did not wish him to fly? + +_Ternissa._ No! it would be cruel; the string about the leg of so +little and weak a creature is enough. + +_Epicurus._ You think so; I think so; God thinks so. This I may say +confidently; for whenever there is a sentiment in which strict justice +and pure benevolence unite, it must be His. + +_Ternissa._ O Epicurus! when you speak thus-- + +_Leontion._ Well, Ternissa, what then? + +_Ternissa._ When Epicurus teaches us such sentiments as these, I am +grieved that he has not so great an authority with the Athenians as +some others have. + +_Leontion._ You will grieve more, I suspect, my Ternissa, when he +possesses that authority. + +_Ternissa._ What will he do? + +_Leontion._ Why turn pale? I am not about to answer that he will +forget or leave you. No; but the voice comes deepest from the +sepulchre, and a great name hath its root in the dead body. If you +invited a company to a feast, you might as well place round the table +live sheep and oxen and vases of fish and cages of quails, as you +would invite a company of friendly hearers to the philosopher who is +yet living. One would imagine that the iris of our intellectual eye +were lessened by the glory of his presence, and that, like eastern +kings, he could be looked at near only when his limbs are stiff, by +waxlight, in close curtains. + +_Epicurus._ One of whom we know little leaves us a ring or other token +of remembrance, and we express a sense of pleasure and of gratitude; +one of whom we know nothing writes a book, the contents of which might +(if we would let them) have done us more good and might have given us +more pleasure, and we revile him for it. The book may do what the +legacy cannot; it may be pleasurable and serviceable to others as well +as ourselves: we would hinder this too. In fact, all other love is +extinguished by self-love: beneficence, humanity, justice, philosophy, +sink under it. While we insist that we are looking for Truth, we +commit a falsehood. It never was the first object with any one, and +with few the second. + +Feed unto replenishment your quieter fancies, my sweetest little +Ternissa! and let the gods, both youthful and aged, both gentle and +boisterous, administer to them hourly on these sunny downs: what can +they do better? + +_Leontion._ But those feathers, Ternissa, what god's may they be? +since you will not pick them up, nor restore them to Calaeis nor to +Zethes. + +_Ternissa._ I do not think they belong to any god whatever; and shall +never be persuaded of it unless Epicurus says it is so. + +_Leontion._ O unbelieving creature! do you reason against the +immortals? + +_Ternissa._ It was yourself who doubted, or appeared to doubt, the +flight of Oreithyia. By admitting too much we endanger our religion. +Beside, I think I discern some upright stakes at equal distances, and +am pretty sure the feathers are tied to them by long strings. + +_Epicurus._ You have guessed the truth. + +_Ternissa._ Of what use are they there? + +_Epicurus._ If you have ever seen the foot of a statue broken off just +below the ankle, you have then, Leontion and Ternissa, seen the form +of the ground about us. The lower extremities of it are divided into +small ridges, as you will perceive if you look around; and these are +covered with corn, olives, and vines. At the upper part, where +cultivation ceases, and where those sheep and goats are grazing, +begins my purchase. The ground rises gradually unto near the summit, +where it grows somewhat steep, and terminates in a precipice. Across +the middle I have traced a line, denoted by those feathers, from one +dingle to the other; the two terminations of my intended garden. The +distance is nearly a thousand paces, and the path, perfectly on a +level, will be two paces broad, so that I may walk between you; but +another could not join us conveniently. From this there will be +several circuitous and spiral, leading by the easiest ascent to the +summit; and several more, to the road along the cultivation +underneath: here will, however, be but one entrance. Among the +projecting fragments and the massive stones yet standing of the +boundary-wall, which old pomegranates imperfectly defend, and which my +neighbour has guarded more effectively against invasion, there are +hillocks of crumbling mould, covered in some places with a variety of +moss; in others are elevated tufts, or dim labyrinths of eglantine. + +_Ternissa._ Where will you place the statues? for undoubtedly you must +have some. + +_Epicurus._ I will have some models for statues. Pygmalion prayed the +gods to give life to the image he adored: I will not pray them to give +marble to mine. Never may I lay my wet cheek upon the foot under which +is inscribed the name of Leontion or Ternissa! + +_Leontion._ Do not make us melancholy; never let us think that the +time can come when we shall lose our friends. Glory, literature, +philosophy have this advantage over friendship: remove one object from +them, and others fill the void; remove one from friendship, one only, +and not the earth nor the universality of worlds, no, nor the +intellect that soars above and comprehends them, can replace it! + +_Epicurus._ Dear Leontion! always amiable, always graceful! How lovely +do you now appear to me! what beauteous action accompanied your words! + +_Leontion._ I used none whatever. + +_Epicurus._ That white arm was then, as it is now, over the shoulder +of Ternissa; and her breath imparted a fresh bloom to your cheek, a +new music to your voice. No friendship is so cordial or so delicious +as that of girl for girl; no hatred so intense and immovable as that +of woman for woman. In youth you love one above the others of your +sex; in riper age you hate all, more or less, in proportion to +similarity of accomplishments and pursuits--which sometimes (I wish it +were oftener) are bonds of union to man. In us you more easily pardon +faults than excellences in each other. _Your_ tempers are such, my +beloved scholars, that even this truth does not ruffle them; and such +is your affection, that I look with confidence to its unabated ardour +at twenty. + +_Leontion._ Oh, then I am to love Ternissa almost fifteen months! + +_Ternissa._ And I am destined to survive the loss of it three months +above four years! + +_Epicurus._ Incomparable creatures! may it be eternal! In loving ye +shall follow no example; ye shall step securely over the iron rule +laid down for others by the Destinies, and _you_ for ever be Leontion, +and _you_ Ternissa. + +_Leontion._ Then indeed we should not want statues. + +_Ternissa._ But men, who are vainer creatures, would be good for +nothing without them: they must be flattered even by the stones. + +_Epicurus._ Very true. Neither the higher arts nor the civic virtues +can flourish extensively without the statues of illustrious men. But +gardens are not the places for them. Sparrows, wooing on the general's +truncheon (unless he be such a general as one of ours in the last +war), and snails besliming the emblems of the poet, do not remind us +worthily of their characters. Porticos are their proper situations, +and those the most frequented. Even there they may lose all honour and +distinction, whether from the thoughtlessness of magistrates or from +the malignity of rivals. Our own city, the least exposed of any to the +effects of either, presents us a disheartening example. When the +Thebans in their jealousy condemned Pindar to the payment of a fine +for having praised the Athenians too highly, our citizens erected a +statue of bronze to him. + +_Leontion._ Jealousy of Athens made the Thebans fine him; and jealousy +of Thebes made the Athenians thus record it. + +_Epicurus._ And jealousy of Pindar, I suspect, made some poet persuade +the archons to render the distinction a vile and worthless one, by +placing his effigy near a king's--one Evagoras of Cyprus. + +_Ternissa._ Evagoras, I think I remember to have read in the +inscription, was rewarded in this manner for his reception of Conon, +defeated by the Lacedemonians. + +_Epicurus._ Gratitude was due to him, and some such memorial to record +it. External reverence should be paid unsparingly to the higher +magistrates of every country who perform their offices exemplarily; +yet they are not on this account to be placed in the same degree with +men of primary genius. They never exalt the human race, and rarely +benefit it; and their benefits are local and transitory, while those +of a great writer are universal and eternal. + +If the gods did indeed bestow on us a portion of their fire, they seem +to have lighted it in sport and left it; the harder task and the +nobler is performed by that genius who raises it clear and glowing +from its embers, and makes it applicable to the purposes that dignify +or delight our nature. I have ever said, 'Reverence the rulers.' Let, +then, his image stand; but stand apart from Pindar's. Pallas and Jove! +defend me from being carried down the stream of time among a shoal of +royalets, and the rootless weeds they are hatched on! + +_Ternissa._ So much piety would deserve the exemption, even though +your writings did not hold out the decree. + +_Leontion._ Child, the compliment is ill turned: if you are ironical, +as you must be on the piety of Epicurus, Atticism requires that you +should continue to be so, at least to the end of the sentence. + +_Ternissa._ Irony is my abhorrence. Epicurus may appear less pious +than some others, but I am certain he is more; otherwise the gods +would never have given him---- + +_Leontion._ What? what? let us hear! + +_Ternissa._ Leontion! + +_Leontion._ Silly girl! Were there any hibiscus or broom growing near +at hand, I would send him away and whip you. + +_Epicurus._ There is fern, which is better. + +_Leontion._ I was not speaking to you: but now you shall have +something to answer for yourself. Although you admit no statues in the +country, you might at least, methinks, have discovered a retirement +with a fountain in it: here I see not even a spring. + +_Epicurus._ Fountain I can hardly say there is; but on the left there +is a long crevice or chasm, which we have never yet visited, and which +we cannot discern until we reach it. This is full of soft mould, very +moist, and many high reeds and canes are growing there; and the rock +itself too drips with humidity along it, and is covered with more +tufted moss and more variegated lichens. This crevice, with its +windings and sinuosities, is about four hundred paces long, and in +many parts eleven, twelve, thirteen feet wide, but generally six or +seven. I shall plant it wholly with lilies of the valley, leaving the +irises which occupy the sides as well as the clefts, and also those +other flowers of paler purple, from the autumnal cups of which we +collect the saffron; and forming a narrow path of such turf as I can +find there, or rather following it as it creeps among the bays and +hazels and sweet-brier, which had fallen at different times from the +summit and are now grown old, with an infinity of primroses at the +roots. There are nowhere twenty steps without a projection and a turn, +nor in any ten together is the chasm of the same width or figure. +Hence the ascent in its windings is easy and imperceptible quite to +the termination, where the rocks are somewhat high and precipitous; at +the entrance they lose themselves in privet and elder, and you must +make your way between them through the canes. Do not you remember +where I carried you both across the muddy hollow in the footpath? + +_Ternissa._ Leontion does. + +_Epicurus._ That place is always wet; not only in this month of +Puanepsion,[7] which we are beginning to-day, but in midsummer. The +water that causes it comes out a little way above it, but originates +from the crevice, which I will cover at top with rose-laurel and +mountain-ash, with clematis and vine; and I will intercept the little +rill in its wandering, draw it from its concealment, and place it like +Bacchus under the protection of the nymphs, who will smile upon it in +its marble cradle, which at present I keep at home. + +_Ternissa._ Leontion, why do you turn away your face? have the nymphs +smiled upon you in it? + +_Leontion._ I bathed in it once, if you must know, Ternissa! Why now, +Ternissa, why do you turn away yours? have the nymphs frowned upon you +for invading their secrets? + +_Ternissa._ Epicurus, you are in the right to bring it away from +Athens, from under the eye of Pallas: she might be angry. + +_Epicurus._ You approve of its removal then, my lovely friend? + +_Ternissa._ Mightily. [_Aside._] I wish it may break in pieces on the +road. + +_Epicurus._ What did you say? + +_Ternissa._ I wish it were now on the road, that I might try whether +it would hold me--I mean with my clothes on. + +_Epicurus._ It would hold you, and one a span longer. I have another +in the house; but it is not decorated with fauns and satyrs and +foliage, like this. + +_Leontion._ I remember putting my hand upon the frightful satyr's +head, to leap in: it seems made for the purpose. But the sculptor +needed not to place the naiad quite so near--he must have been a very +impudent man; it is impossible to look for a moment at such a piece of +workmanship. + +_Ternissa._ For shame! Leontion!--why, what was it? I do not desire to +know. + +_Epicurus._ I don't remember it. + +_Leontion._ Nor I neither; only the head. + +_Epicurus._ I shall place the satyr toward the rock, that you may +never see him, Ternissa. + +_Ternissa._ Very right; he cannot turn round. + +_Leontion._ The poor naiad had done it, in vain. + +_Ternissa._ All these labourers will soon finish the plantation, if +you superintend them, and are not appointed to some magistrature. + +_Epicurus._ Those who govern us are pleased at seeing a philosopher +out of the city, and more still at finding in a season of scarcity +forty poor citizens, who might become seditious, made happy and quiet +by such employment. + +Two evils, of almost equal weight, may befall the man of erudition: +never to be listened to, and to be listened to always. Aware of +these, I devote a large portion of my time and labours to the +cultivation of such minds as flourish best in cities, where my garden +at the gate, although smaller than this, we find sufficiently +capacious. There I secure my listeners; here my thoughts and +imaginations have their free natural current, and tarry or wander as +the will invites: may it ever be among those dearest to me!--those +whose hearts possess the rarest and divinest faculty, of retaining or +forgetting at option what ought to be forgotten or retained. + +_Leontion._ The whole ground then will be covered with trees and +shrubs? + +_Epicurus._ There are some protuberances in various parts of the +eminence, which you do not perceive till you are upon them or above +them. They are almost level at the top, and overgrown with fine grass; +for they catch the better soil brought down in small quantities by the +rains. These are to be left unplanted: so is the platform under the +pinasters, whence there is a prospect of the city, the harbour, the +isle of Salamis, and the territory of Megara. 'What then!' cried +Sosimenes, 'you would hide from your view my young olives, and the +whole length of the new wall I have been building at my own expense +between us! and, when you might see at once the whole of Attica, you +will hardly see more of it than I could buy.' + +_Leontion._ I do not perceive the new wall, for which Sosimenes, no +doubt, thinks himself another Pericles. + +_Epicurus._ Those old junipers quite conceal it. + +_Ternissa._ They look warm and sheltering; but I like the rose-laurels +much better: and what a thicket of them here is! + +_Epicurus._ Leaving all the larger, I shall remove many thousands of +them; enough to border the greater part of the walk, intermixed with +roses. + +There is an infinity of other plants and flowers, or weeds as +Sosimenes calls them, of which he has cleared his oliveyard, and which +I shall adopt. Twenty of his slaves came in yesterday, laden with +hyacinths and narcissi, anemones and jonquils. 'The curses of our +vineyards,' cried he, 'and good neither for man nor beast. I have +another estate infested with lilies of the valley: I should not wonder +if you accepted these too.' + +'And with thanks,' answered I. + +The whole of his remark I could not collect: he turned aside, and (I +believe) prayed. I only heard 'Pallas'--'Father'--'sound +mind'--'inoffensive man'--'good neighbour'. As we walked together I +perceived him looking grave, and I could not resist my inclination to +smile as I turned my eyes toward him. He observed it, at first with +unconcern, but by degrees some doubts arose within him, and he said, +'Epicurus, you have been throwing away no less than half a talent on +this sorry piece of mountain, and I fear you are about to waste as +much in labour: for nothing was ever so terrible as the price we are +obliged to pay the workman, since the conquest of Persia and the +increase of luxury in our city. Under three obols none will do his +day's work. But what, in the name of all the deities, could induce you +to plant those roots, which other people dig up and throw away?' + +'I have been doing,' said I, 'the same thing my whole life through, +Sosimenes!' + +'How!' cried he; 'I never knew that.' + +'Those very doctrines,' added I, 'which others hate and extirpate, I +inculcate and cherish. They bring no riches, and therefore are thought +to bring no advantage; to me, they appear the more advantageous for +that reason. They give us immediately what we solicit through the +means of wealth. We toil for the wealth first; and then it remains to +be proved whether we can purchase with it what we look for. Now, to +carry our money to the market, and not to find in the market our +money's worth, is great vexation; yet much greater has already +preceded, in running up and down for it among so many competitors, and +through so many thieves.' + +After a while he rejoined, 'You really, then, have not overreached +me?' + +'In what, my friend?' said I. + +'These roots,' he answered, 'may perhaps be good and saleable for some +purpose. Shall you send them into Persia? or whither?' + +'Sosimenes, I shall make love-potions of the flowers.' + +_Leontion._ O Epicurus! should it ever be known in Athens that they +are good for this, you will not have, with all your fences of prunes +and pomegranates, and precipices with brier upon them, a single root +left under ground after the month of Elaphebolion.[8] + +_Epicurus._ It is not every one that knows the preparation. + +_Leontion._ Everybody will try it. + +_Epicurus._ And you, too, Ternissa? + +_Ternissa._ Will you teach me? + +_Epicurus._ This, and anything else I know. We must walk together when +they are in flower. + +_Ternissa._ And can you teach me, then? + +_Epicurus._ I teach by degrees. + +_Leontion._ By very slow ones, Epicurus! I have no patience with you; +tell us directly. + +_Epicurus._ It is very material what kind of recipient you bring with +you. Enchantresses use a brazen one; silver and gold are employed in +other arts. + +_Leontion._ I will bring any. + +_Ternissa._ My mother has a fine golden one. She will lend it me; she +allows me everything. + +_Epicurus._ Leontion and Ternissa, those eyes of yours brighten at +inquiry, as if they carried a light within them for a guidance. + +_Leontion._ No flattery! + +_Ternissa._ No flattery! Come, teach us! + +_Epicurus._ Will you hear me through in silence? + +_Leontion._ We promise. + +_Epicurus._ Sweet girls! the calm pleasures, such as I hope you will +ever find in your walks among these gardens, will improve your beauty, +animate your discourse, and correct the little that may hereafter rise +up for correction in your dispositions. The smiling ideas left in our +bosoms from our infancy, that many plants are the favourites of the +gods, and that others were even the objects of their love--having once +been invested with the human form, beautiful and lively and happy as +yourselves--give them an interest beyond the vision; yes, and a +station--let me say it--on the vestibule of our affections. Resign +your ingenuous hearts to simple pleasures; and there is none in man, +where men are Attic, that will not follow and outstrip their +movements. + +_Ternissa._ O Epicurus! + +_Epicurus._ What said Ternissa? + +_Leontion._ Some of those anemones, I do think, must be still in +blossom. Ternissa's golden cup is at home; but she has brought with +her a little vase for the filter--and has filled it to the brim. Do +not hide your head behind my shoulder, Ternissa; no, nor in my lap. + +_Epicurus._ Yes, there let it lie--the lovelier for that tendril of +sunny brown hair upon it. How it falls and rises! Which is the hair? +which the shadow? + +_Leontion._ Let the hair rest. + +_Epicurus._ I must not, perhaps, clasp the shadow! + +_Leontion._ You philosophers are fond of such unsubstantial things. +Oh, you have taken my volume! This is deceit. + +You live so little in public, and entertain such a contempt for +opinion, as to be both indifferent and ignorant what it is that people +blame you for. + +_Epicurus._ I know what it is I should blame myself for, if I attended +to them. Prove them to be wiser and more disinterested in their wisdom +than I am, and I will then go down to them and listen to them. When I +have well considered a thing, I deliver it--regardless of what those +think who neither take the time nor possess the faculty of considering +anything well, and who have always lived far remote from the scope of +our speculations. + +_Leontion._ In the volume you snatched away from me so slyly, I have +defended a position of yours which many philosophers turn into +ridicule--namely, that politeness is among the virtues. I wish you +yourself had spoken more at large upon the subject. + +_Epicurus._ It is one upon which a lady is likely to display more +ingenuity and discernment. If philosophers have ridiculed my +sentiment, the reason is, it is among those virtues which in general +they find most difficult to assume or counterfeit. + +_Leontion._ Surely life runs on the smoother for this equability and +polish; and the gratification it affords is more extensive than is +afforded even by the highest virtue. Courage, on nearly all occasions, +inflicts as much of evil as it imparts of good. It may be exerted in +defence of our country, in defence of those who love us, in defence of +the harmless and the helpless; but those against whom it is thus +exerted may possess an equal share of it. If they succeed, then +manifestly the ill it produces is greater than the benefit; if they +succumb, it is nearly as great. For many of their adversaries are +first killed and maimed, and many of their own kindred are left to +lament the consequences of the aggression. + +_Epicurus._ You have spoken first of courage, as that virtue which +attracts your sex principally. + +_Ternissa._ Not me; I am always afraid of it. I love those best who +can tell me the most things I never knew before, and who have patience +with me, and look kindly while they teach me, and almost as if they +were waiting for fresh questions. Now let me hear directly what you +were about to say to Leontion. + +_Epicurus._ I was proceeding to remark that temperance comes next; and +temperance has then its highest merit when it is the support of +civility and politeness. So that I think I am right and equitable in +attributing to politeness a distinguished rank, not among the +ornaments of life, but among the virtues. And you, Leontion and +Ternissa, will have leaned the more propensely toward this opinion, if +you considered, as I am sure you did, that the peace and concord of +families, friends, and cities are preserved by it; in other terms, the +harmony of the world. + +_Ternissa._ Leontion spoke of courage, you of temperance; the next +great virtue, in the division made by the philosophers, is justice. + +_Epicurus._ Temperance includes it; for temperance is imperfect if it +is only an abstinence from too much food, too much wine, too much +conviviality or other luxury. It indicates every kind of forbearance. +Justice is forbearance from what belongs to another. Giving to this +one rightly what that one would hold wrongfully in magistrature not in +the abstract, and is only a part of its office. The perfectly +temperate man is also the perfectly just man; but the perfectly just +man (as philosophers now define him) may not be the perfectly +temperate one. I include the less in the greater. + +_Leontion._ We hear of judges, and upright ones too, being immoderate +eaters and drinkers. + +_Epicurus._ The Lacedemonians are temperate in food and courageous in +battle; but men like these, if they existed in sufficient numbers, +would devastate the universe. We alone, we Athenians, with less +military skill perhaps, and certainly less rigid abstinence from +voluptuousness and luxury, have set before it the only grand example +of social government and of polished life. From us the seed is +scattered; from us flow the streams that irrigate it; and ours are the +hands, O Leontion, that collect it, cleanse it, deposit it, and convey +and distribute it sound and weighty through every race and age. +Exhausted as we are by war, we can do nothing better than lie down and +doze while the weather is fine overhead, and dream (if we can) that we +are affluent and free. + +O sweet sea air! how bland art thou and refreshing! Breathe upon +Leontion! breathe upon Ternissa! bring them health and spirits and +serenity, many springs and many summers, and when the vine-leaves have +reddened and rustle under their feet! + +These, my beloved girls, are the children of Eternity: they played +around Theseus and the beauteous Amazon; they gave to Pallas the bloom +of Venus, and to Venus the animation of Pallas. Is it not better to +enjoy by the hour their soft, salubrious influence, than to catch by +fits the rancid breath of demagogues; than to swell and move under it +without or against our will; than to acquire the semblance of +eloquence by the bitterness of passion, the tone of philosophy by +disappointment, or the credit of prudence by distrust? Can fortune, +can industry, can desert itself, bestow on us anything we have not +here? + +_Leontion._ And when shall those three meet? The gods have never +united them, knowing that men would put them asunder at the first +appearance. + +_Epicurus._ I am glad to leave the city as often as possible, full as +it is of high and glorious reminiscences, and am inclined much rather +to indulge in quieter scenes, whither the Graces and Friendship lead +me. I would not contend even with men able to contend with me. You, +Leontion, I see, think differently, and have composed at last your +long-meditated work against the philosophy of Theophrastus. + +_Leontion._ Why not? he has been praised above his merits. + +_Epicurus._ My Leontion! you have inadvertently given me the reason +and origin of all controversial writings. They flow not from a love of +truth or a regard for science, but from envy and ill-will. Setting +aside the evil of malignity--always hurtful to ourselves, not always +to others--there is weakness in the argument you have adduced. When a +writer is praised above his merits in his own times, he is certain of +being estimated below them in the times succeeding. Paradox is dear to +most people: it bears the appearance of originality, but is usually +the talent of the superficial, the perverse, and the obstinate. + +Nothing is more gratifying than the attention you are bestowing on me, +which you always apportion to the seriousness of my observations. + +_Leontion._ I dislike Theophrastus for his affected contempt of your +doctrines. + +_Epicurus._ Unreasonably, for the contempt of them; reasonably, if +affected. Good men may differ widely from me, and wiser ones +misunderstand me; for, their wisdom having raised up to them schools +of their own, they have not found leisure to converse with me; and +from others they have received a partial and inexact report. My +opinion is, that certain things are indifferent and unworthy of +pursuit or attention, as lying beyond our research and almost our +conjecture; which things the generality of philosophers (for the +generality are speculative) deem of the first importance. Questions +relating to them I answer evasively, or altogether decline. Again, +there are modes of living which are suitable to some and unsuitable to +others. What I myself follow and embrace, what I recommend to the +studious, to the irritable, to the weak in health, would ill agree +with the commonality of citizens. Yet my adversaries cry out: 'Such is +the opinion and practice of Epicurus!' For instance, I have never +taken a wife, and never will take one; but he from among the mass, who +should avow his imitation of my example, would act as wisely and more +religiously in saying that he chose celibacy because Pallas had done +the same. + +_Leontion._ If Pallas had many such votaries she would soon have few +citizens to supply them. + +_Epicurus._ And extremely bad ones, if all followed me in retiring +from the offices of magistracy and of war. Having seen that the most +sensible men are the most unhappy, I could not but examine the causes +of it; and, finding that the same sensibility to which they are +indebted for the activity of their intellect is also the restless +mover of their jealousy and ambition, I would lead them aside from +whatever operates upon these, and throw under their feet the terrors +their imagination has created. My philosophy is not for the populace +nor for the proud: the ferocious will never attain it; the gentle will +embrace it, but will not call it mine. I do not desire that they +should: let them rest their heads upon that part of the pillow which +they find the softest, and enjoy their own dreams unbroken. + +_Leontion._ The old are all against you, Epicurus, the name of +pleasure is an affront to them: they know no other kind of it than +that which has flowered and seeded, and of which the withered stems +have indeed a rueful look. + +_Epicurus._ Unhappily the aged are retentive of long-acquired maxims, +and insensible to new impressions, whether from fancy or from truth: +in fact, their eyes blend the two together. Well might the poet tell +us: + + Fewer the gifts that gnarled Age presents + To elegantly-handed Infancy, + Than elegantly-handed Infancy + Presents to gnarled Age. From both they drop; + The middle course of life receives them all, + Save the light few that laughing Youth runs off with, + Unvalued as a mistress or a flower. + +_Leontion._ Since, in obedience to your institutions, O Epicurus, I +must not say I am angry, I am offended at least with Theophrastus for +having so misrepresented your opinions, on the necessity of keeping +the mind composed and tranquil, and remote from every object and every +sentiment by which a painful sympathy may be excited. In order to +display his elegance of language, he runs wherever he can lay a +censure on you, whether he believes in its equity or not. + +_Epicurus._ This is the case with all eloquent men, and all +disputants. Truth neither warms nor elevates them, neither obtains for +them profit nor applause. + +_Ternissa._ I have heard wise remarks very often and very warmly +praised. + +_Epicurus._ Not for the truth in them, but for the grace, or because +they touched the spring of some preconception or some passion. Man is +a hater of truth, a lover of fiction. + +Theophrastus is a writer of many acquirements and some shrewdness, +usually judicious, often somewhat witty, always elegant; his thoughts +are never confused, his sentences are never incomprehensible. If +Aristoteles thought more highly of him than his due, surely you ought +not to censure Theophrastus with severity on the supposition of his +rating me below mine; unless you argue that a slight error in a short +sum is less pardonable than in a longer. Had Aristoteles been living, +and had he given the same opinion of me, your friendship and perhaps +my self-love might have been wounded; for, if on one occasion he spoke +too favourably, he never spoke unfavourably but with justice. This is +among the indications of orderly and elevated minds; and here stands +the barrier that separates them from the common and the waste. Is a +man to be angry because an infant is fretful? Is a philosopher to +unpack and throw away his philosophy, because an idiot has tried to +overturn it on the road, and has pursued it with gibes and ribaldry? + +_Leontion._ Theophrastus would persuade us that, according to your +system, we not only should decline the succour of the wretched, but +avoid the sympathies that poets and historians would awaken in us. +Probably for the sake of introducing some idle verses, written by a +friend of his, he says that, following the guidance of Epicurus, we +should altogether shun the theatre; and not only when Prometheus and +Oedipus and Philoctetes are introduced, but even when generous and +kindly sentiments are predominant, if they partake of that tenderness +which belongs to pity. I know not what Thracian lord recovers his +daughter from her ravisher; such are among the words they exchange: + +_Father._ + + Insects that dwell in rotten reeds, inert + Upon the surface of a stream or pool, + Then rush into the air on meshy vans, + Are not so different in their varying lives + As we are.--Oh! what father on this earth, + Holding his child's cool cheek within his palms + And kissing his fair front, would wish him man?-- + Inheritor of wants and jealousies, + Of labour, of ambition, of distress, + And, cruellest of all the passions, lust. + Who that behold me, persecuted, scorned, + A wanderer, e'er could think what friends were mine, + How numerous, how devoted? with what glee + Smiled my old house, with what acclaim my courts + Rang from without whene'er my war-horse neighed? + +_Daughter._ + + Thy fortieth birthday is not shouted yet + By the young peasantry, with rural gifts + And nightly fires along the pointed hills, + Yet do thy temples glitter with grey hair + Scattered not thinly: ah, what sudden change! + Only thy voice and heart remain the same: + No! that voice trembles, and that heart (I feel), + While it would comfort and console me, breaks. + +_Epicurus._ I would never close my bosom against the feelings of +humanity; but I would calmly and well consider by what conduct of life +they may enter it with the least importunity and violence. A +consciousness that we have promoted the happiness of others, to the +uttermost of our power, is certain not only to meet them at the +threshold, but to bring them along with us, and to render them +accurate and faithful prompters, when we bend perplexedly over the +problem of evil figured by the tragedians. If there were more of pain +than of pleasure in the exhibitions of the dramatist, no man in his +senses would attend them twice. All the imitative arts have delight +for the principal object: the first of these is poetry; the highest of +poetry is tragic. + +_Leontion._ The epic has been called so. + +_Epicurus._ Improperly; for the epic has much more in it of what is +prosaic. Its magnitude is no argument. An Egyptian pyramid contains +more materials than an Ionic temple, but requires less contrivance, +and exhibits less beauty of design. My simile is yet a defective one; +for a tragedy must be carried on with an unbroken interest, and, +undecorated by loose foliage or fantastic branches, it must rise, +like the palm-tree, with a lofty unity. On these matters I am unable +to argue at large, or perhaps correctly; on those, however, which I +have studied and treated, my terms are so explicit and clear, that +Theophrastus can never have misunderstood them. Let me recall to your +attention but two axioms. + +Abstinence from low pleasures is the only means of meriting or of +obtaining the higher. + +Kindness in ourselves is the honey that blunts the sting of unkindness +in another. + +_Leontion._ Explain to me, then, O Epicurus, why we suffer so much +from ingratitude. + +_Epicurus._ We fancy we suffer from ingratitude, while in reality we +suffer from self-love. Passion weeps while she says, 'I did not +deserve this from him'; Reason, while she says it, smoothens her brow +at the clear fountain of the heart. Permit me also, like Theophrastus, +to borrow a few words from a poet. + +_Ternissa._ Borrow as many such as any one will entrust to you, and +may Hermes prosper your commerce! Leontion may go to the theatre then; +for she loves it. + +_Epicurus._ Girls! be the bosom friends of Antigone and Ismene; and +you shall enter the wood of the Eumenides without shuddering, and +leave it without the trace of a tear. Never did you appear so graceful +to me, O Ternissa--no, not even after this walk do you--as when I saw +you blow a fly from the forehead of Philoctetes in the propylea. The +wing, with which Sophocles and the statuary represent him, to drive +away the summer insects in his agony, had wearied his flaccid arm, +hanging down beside him. + +_Ternissa._ Do you imagine, then, I thought him a living man? + +_Epicurus._ The sentiment was both more delicate and more august from +being indistinct. You would have done it, even if he _had_ been a +living man; even if he could have clasped you in his arms, imploring +the deities to resemble you in gentleness, you would have done it. + +_Ternissa._ He looked so abandoned by all, and so heroic, yet so +feeble and so helpless! I did not think of turning around to see if +any one was near me; or else, perhaps---- + +_Epicurus._ If you could have thought of looking around, you would no +longer have been Ternissa. The gods would have transformed you for it +into some tree. + +_Leontion._ And Epicurus had been walking under it this day, perhaps. + +_Epicurus._ With Leontion, the partner of his sentiments. But the walk +would have been earlier or later than the present hour; since the +middle of the day, like the middle of certain fruits, is good for +nothing. + +_Leontion._ For dinner, surely? + +_Epicurus._ Dinner is a less gratification to me than to many: I dine +alone. + +_Ternissa._ Why? + +_Epicurus._ To avoid the noise, the heat, and the intermixture both of +odours and of occupations. I cannot bear the indecency of speaking +with a mouth in which there is food. I careen my body (since it is +always in want of repair) in as unobstructed a space as I can, and I +lie down and sleep awhile when the work is over. + +_Leontion._ Epicurus! although it would be very interesting, no doubt, +to hear more of what you do after dinner--[_Aside to him._] now don't +smile: I shall never forgive you if you say a single word--yet I would +rather hear a little about the theatre, and whether you think at last +that women should frequent it; for you have often said the contrary. + +_Epicurus._ I think they should visit it rarely; not because it +excites their affections, but because it deadens them. To me nothing +is so odious as to be at once among the rabble and among the heroes, +and, while I am receiving into my heart the most exquisite of human +sensations, to feel upon my shoulder the hand of some inattentive and +insensible young officer. + +_Leontion._ Oh, very bad indeed! horrible! + +_Ternissa._ You quite fire at the idea. + +_Leontion._ Not I: I don't care about it. + +_Ternissa._ Not about what is very bad indeed? quite horrible? + +_Leontion._ I seldom go thither. + +_Epicurus._ The theatre is delightful when we erect it in our own +house or arbour, and when there is but one spectator. + +_Leontion._ You must lose the illusion in great part, if you only read +the tragedy, which I fancy to be your meaning. + +_Epicurus._ I lose the less of it. Do not imagine that the illusion +is, or can be, or ought to be, complete. If it were possible, no +Phalaris or Perillus could devise a crueller torture. Here are two +imitations: first, the poet's of the sufferer; secondly, the actor's +of both: poetry is superinduced. No man in pain ever uttered the +better part of the language used by Sophocles. We admit it, and +willingly, and are at least as much illuded by it as by anything else +we hear or see upon the stage. Poets and statuaries and painters give +us an adorned imitation of the object, so skilfully treated that we +receive it for a correct one. This is the only illusion they aim at: +this is the perfection of their arts. + +_Leontion._ Do you derive no pleasure from the representation of a +consummate actor? + +_Epicurus._ High pleasure; but liable to be overturned in an instant: +pleasure at the mercy of any one who sits beside me. + + * * * * * + +_Leontion._ In my treatise I have only defended your tenets against +Theophrastus. + +_Epicurus._ I am certain you have done it with spirit and eloquence, +dear Leontion; and there are but two words in it I would wish you to +erase. + +_Leontion._ Which are they? + +_Epicurus._ Theophrastus and Epicurus. If you love me, you will do +nothing that may make you uneasy when you grow older; nothing that may +allow my adversary to say, 'Leontion soon forgot her Epicurus.' My +maxim is, never to defend my systems or paradoxes; if you undertake +it, the Athenians will insist that I impelled you secretly, or that my +philosophy and my friendship were ineffectual on you. + +_Leontion._ They shall never say that. + +_Epicurus._ I am not unmoved by the kindness of your intentions. Most +people, and philosophers, too, among the rest, when their own conduct +or opinions are questioned, are admirably prompt and dexterous in the +science of defence; but when another's are assailed, they parry with +as ill a grace and faltering a hand as if they never had taken a +lesson in it at home. Seldom will they see what they profess to look +for; and, finding it, they pick up with it a thorn under the nail. +They canter over the solid turf, and complain that there is no corn +upon it; they canter over the corn, and curse the ridges and furrows. +All schools of philosophy, and almost all authors, are rather to be +frequented for exercise than for freight; but this exercise ought to +acquire us health and strength, spirits and good-humour. There is none +of them that does not supply some truth useful to every man, and some +untruth equally so to the few that are able to wrestle with it. If +there were no falsehood in the world, there would be no doubt; if +there were no doubt, there would be no inquiry; if no inquiry, no +wisdom, no knowledge, no genius: and Fancy herself would lie muffled +up in her robe, inactive, pale, and bloated. I wish we could +demonstrate the existence of utility in some other evils as easily as +in this. + +_Leontion._ My remarks on the conduct and on the style of Theophrastus +are not confined to him solely. I have taken at last a general view of +our literature, and traced as far as I am able its deviation and +decline. In ancient works we sometimes see the mark of the chisel; in +modern we might almost suppose that no chisel was employed at all, and +that everything was done by grinding and rubbing. There is an +ordinariness, an indistinctness, a generalization, not even to be +found in a flock of sheep. As most reduce what is sand into dust, the +few that avoid it run to a contrary extreme, and would force us to +believe that what is original must be unpolished and uncouth. + +_Epicurus._ There have been in all ages, and in all there will be, +sharp and slender heads made purposely and peculiarly for creeping +into the crevices of our nature. While we contemplate the magnificence +of the universe, and mensurate the fitness and adaptation of one part +to another, the small philosopher hangs upon a hair or creeps within a +wrinkle, and cries out shrilly from his elevation that we are blind +and superficial. He discovers a wart, he pries into a pore; and he +calls it knowledge of man. Poetry and criticism, and all the fine +arts, have generated such living things, which not only will be +co-existent with them but will (I fear) survive them. Hence history +takes alternately the form of reproval and of panegyric; and science +in its pulverized state, in its shapeless and colourless atoms, +assumes the name of metaphysics. We find no longer the rich succulence +of Herodotus, no longer the strong filament of Thucydides, but +thoughts fit only for the slave, and language for the rustic and the +robber. These writings can never reach posterity, nor serve better +authors near us; for who would receive as documents the perversions of +venality and party? Alexander we know was intemperate, and Philip both +intemperate and perfidious: we require not a volume of dissertation on +the thread of history, to demonstrate that one or other left a +tailor's bill unpaid, and the immorality of doing so; nor a supplement +to ascertain on the best authorities which of the two it was. History +should explain to us how nations rose and fell, what nurtured them in +their growth, what sustained them in their maturity; not which orator +ran swiftest through the crowd from the right hand to the left, which +assassin was too strong for manacles, or which felon too opulent for +crucifixion. + +_Leontion._ It is better, I own it, that such writers should amuse our +idleness than excite our spleen. + +_Ternissa._ What is spleen? + +_Epicurus._ Do not ask her; she cannot tell you. The spleen, Ternissa, +is to the heart what Arimanes is to Oromazes. + +_Ternissa._ I am little the wiser yet. Does he ever use such hard +words with you? + +_Leontion._ He means the evil Genius and the good Genius, in the +theogony of the Persians: and would perhaps tell you, as he hath told +me, that the heart in itself is free from evil, but very capable of +receiving and too tenacious of holding it. + +_Epicurus._ In our moral system, the spleen hangs about the heart and +renders it sad and sorrowful, unless we continually keep it in +exercise by kind offices, or in its proper place by serious +investigation and solitary questionings. Otherwise, it is apt to +adhere and to accumulate, until it deadens the principles of sound +action, and obscures the sight. + +_Ternissa._ It must make us very ugly when we grow old. + +_Leontion._ In youth it makes us uglier, as not appertaining to it: a +little more or less ugliness in decrepitude is hardly worth +considering, there being quite enough of it from other quarters: I +would stop it here, however. + +_Ternissa._ Oh, what a thing is age! + +_Leontion._ Death without death's quiet. + +_Ternissa._ Leontion said that even bad writers may amuse our idle +hours: alas! even good ones do not much amuse mine, unless they record +an action of love or generosity. As for the graver, why cannot they +come among us and teach us, just as you do? + +_Epicurus._ Would you wish it? + +_Ternissa._ No, no! I do not want them: only I was imagining how +pleasant it is to converse as we are doing, and how sorry I should be +to pore over a book instead of it. Books always make me sigh, and +think about other things. Why do you laugh, Leontion? + +_Epicurus._ She was mistaken in saying bad authors may amuse our +idleness. Leontion knows not then how sweet and sacred idleness is. + +_Leontion._ To render it sweet and sacred, the heart must have a +little garden of its own, with its umbrage and fountains and +perennial flowers--a careless company! Sleep is called sacred as well +as sweet by Homer; and idleness is but a step from it. The idleness of +the wise and virtuous should be both, it being the repose and +refreshment necessary for past exertions and for future; it punishes +the bad man, it rewards the good; the deities enjoy it, and Epicurus +praises it. I was indeed wrong in my remark; for we should never seek +amusement in the foibles of another, never in coarse language, never +in low thoughts. When the mind loses its feeling for elegance, it +grows corrupt and grovelling, and seeks in the crowd what ought to be +found at home. + +_Epicurus._ Aspasia believed so, and bequeathed to Leontion, with +every other gift that Nature had bestowed upon her, the power of +delivering her oracles from diviner lips. + +_Leontion._ Fie! Epicurus! It is well you hide my face for me with +your hand. Now take it away; we cannot walk in this manner. + +_Epicurus._ No word could ever fall from you without its weight; no +breath from you ought to lose itself in the common air. + +_Leontion._ For shame! What would you have? + +_Ternissa._ He knows not what he would have nor what he would say. I +must sit down again. I declare I scarcely understand a single +syllable. Well, he is very good, to tease you no longer. Epicurus has +an excellent heart; he would give pain to no one; least of all to you. + +_Leontion,_ I have pained him by this foolish book, and he would only +assure me that he does not for a moment bear me malice. Take the +volume; take it, Epicurus! tear it in pieces. + +_Epicurus._ No, Leontion! I shall often look with pleasure on this +trophy of brave humanity; let me kiss the hand that raises it! + +_Ternissa._ I am tired of sitting: I am quite stiff: when shall we +walk homeward? + +_Epicurus._ Take my arm, Ternissa! + +_Ternissa._ Oh! I had forgotten that I proposed to myself a trip as +far up as the pinasters, to look at the precipice of Oreithyia. Come +along! come along! how alert does the sea air make us! I seem to feel +growing at my feet and shoulders the wings of Zethes or Calaeis. + +_Epicurus._ Leontion walks the nimblest to-day. + +_Ternissa._ To display her activity and strength, she runs before us. +Sweet Leontion, how good she is! but she should have stayed for us: it +would be in vain to try to overtake her. + +No, Epicurus! Mind! take care! you are crushing these little +oleanders--and now the strawberry plants--the whole heap. Not I, +indeed. What would my mother say, if she knew it? And Leontion! she +will certainly look back. + +_Epicurus._ The fairest of the Eudaimones never look back: such are +the Hours and Love, Opportunity and Leontion. + +_Ternissa._ How could you dare to treat me in this manner? I did not +say again I hated anything. + +_Epicurus._ Forgive me! + +_Ternissa._ Violent creature! + +_Epicurus._ If tenderness is violence. Forgive me; and say you love +me. + +_Ternissa._ All at once? could you endure such boldness? + +_Epicurus._ Pronounce it! whisper it. + +_Ternissa._ Go, go. Would it be proper? + +_Epicurus._ Is that sweet voice asking its heart or me? let the +worthier give the answer. + +_Ternissa._ O Epicurus! you are very, very dear to me; and are the +last in the world that would ever tell you were called so. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[7] The Attic month of Puanepsion had its commencement in the latter +days of October; its name is derived from +puana+, the legumes +which were offered in sacrifice to Apollo at that season. + +[8] The thirteenth of Elaphebolion was the tenth of April. + + + + +DANTE AND BEATRICE + + +_Dante._ When you saw me profoundly pierced with love, and reddening +and trembling, did it become you, did it become you, you whom I have +always called _the most gentle Bice_, to join in the heartless +laughter of those girls around you? Answer me. Reply unhesitatingly. +Requires it so long a space for dissimulation and duplicity? Pardon! +pardon! pardon! My senses have left me; my heart being gone, they +follow. + +_Beatrice._ Childish man! pursuing the impossible. + +_Dante._ And was it this you laughed at? We cannot touch the hem of +God's garment; yet we fall at His feet and weep. + +_Beatrice._ But weep not, gentle Dante! fall not before the weakest of +His creatures, willing to comfort, unable to relieve you. Consider a +little. Is laughter at all times the signal or the precursor of +derision? I smiled, let me avow it, from the pride I felt in your +preference of me; and if I laughed, it was to conceal my sentiments. +Did you never cover sweet fruit with worthless leaves? Come, do not +drop again so soon so faint a smile. I will not have you grave, nor +very serious. I pity you; I must not love you: if I might, I would. + +_Dante._ Yet how much love is due to me, O Bice, who have loved you, +as you well remember, even from your tenth year. But it is reported, +and your words confirm it, that you are going to be married. + +_Beatrice._ If so, and if I could have laughed at that, and if my +laughter could have estranged you from me, would you blame me? + +_Dante._ Tell me the truth. + +_Beatrice._ The report is general. + +_Dante._ The truth! the truth! Tell me, Bice. + +_Beatrice._ Marriages, it is said, are made in heaven. + +_Dante._ Is heaven then under the paternal roof? + +_Beatrice._ It has been to me hitherto. + +_Dante._ And now you seek it elsewhere. + +_Beatrice._ I seek it not. The wiser choose for the weaker. Nay, do +not sigh so. What would you have, my grave pensive Dante? What can I +do? + +_Dante._ Love me. + +_Beatrice._ I always did. + +_Dante._ Love me? O bliss of heaven! + +_Beatrice._ No, no, no! Forbear! Men's kisses are always mischievous +and hurtful; everybody says it. If you truly loved me, you would never +think of doing so. + +_Dante._ Nor even this! + +_Beatrice._ You forget that you are no longer a boy; and that it is +not thought proper at your time of life to continue the arm at all +about the waist. Beside, I think you would better not put your head +against my bosom; it beats too much to be pleasant to you. Why do you +wish it? why fancy it can do you any good? It grows no cooler; it +seems to grow even hotter. Oh, how it burns! Go, go; it hurts me too: +it struggles, it aches, it sobs. Thank you, my gentle friend, for +removing your brow away; your hair is very thick and long; and it +began to heat me more than you can imagine. While it was there, I +could not see your face so well, nor talk with you so quietly. + +_Dante._ Oh, when shall we talk quietly in future? + +_Beatrice._ When I am married. I shall often come to visit my father. +He has always been solitary since my mother's death, which happened in +my infancy, long before you knew me. + +_Dante._ How can he endure the solitude of his house when you have +left it? + +_Beatrice._ The very question I asked him. + +_Dante._ You did not then wish to ... to ... go away? + +_Beatrice._ Ah no! It is sad to be an outcast at fifteen. + +_Dante._ An outcast? + +_Beatrice._ Forced to leave a home. + +_Dante._ For another? + +_Beatrice._ Childhood can never have a second. + +_Dante._ But childhood is now over. + +_Beatrice._ I wonder who was so malicious as to tell my father that? +He wanted me to be married a whole year ago. + +_Dante._ And, Bice, you hesitated? + +_Beatrice._ No; I only wept. He is a dear good father. I never +disobeyed him but in those wicked tears; and they ran the faster the +more he reprehended them. + +_Dante._ Say, who is the happy youth? + +_Beatrice._ I know not who ought to be happy if you are not. + +_Dante._ I? + +_Beatrice._ Surely you deserve all happiness. + +_Dante._ Happiness! any happiness is denied me. Ah, hours of +childhood! bright hours! what fragrant blossoms ye unfold! what bitter +fruits to ripen! + +_Beatrice._ Now cannot you continue to sit under that old fig-tree at +the corner of the garden? It is always delightful to me to think of +it. + +_Dante._ Again you smile: I wish I could smile too. + +_Beatrice._ You were usually more grave than I, although very often, +two years ago, you told me I was the graver. Perhaps I _was_ then +indeed; and perhaps I ought to be now: but really I must smile at the +recollection, and make you smile with me. + +_Dante._ Recollection of what in particular? + +_Beatrice._ Of your ignorance that a fig-tree is the brittlest of +trees, especially when it is in leaf; and moreover of your tumble, +when your head was just above the wall, and your hand (with the verses +in it) on the very coping-stone. Nobody suspected that I went every +day to the bottom of our garden, to hear you repeat your poetry on the +other side; nobody but yourself; you soon found me out. But on that +occasion I thought you might have been hurt; and I clambered up our +high peach-tree in the grass plot nearest the place; and thence I saw +Messer Dante, with his white sleeve reddened by the fig-juice, and the +seeds sticking to it pertinaciously, and Messer blushing, and trying +to conceal his calamity, and still holding the verses. They were all +about me. + +_Dante._ Never shall any verse of mine be uttered from my lips, or +from the lips of others, without the memorial of Bice. + +_Beatrice._ Sweet Dante! in the purity of your soul shall Bice live; +as (we are told by the goatherds and foresters) poor creatures have +been found preserved in the serene and lofty regions of the Alps, many +years after the breath of life had left them. Already you rival Guido +Cavalcante and Cino da Pistoja: you must attempt, nor perhaps shall it +be vainly, to surpass them in celebrity. + +_Dante._ If ever I am above them ... and I must be ... I know already +what angel's hand will have helped me up the ladder. Beatrice, I vow +to heaven, shall stand higher than Selvaggia, high and glorious and +immortal as that name will be. You have given me joy and sorrow; for +the worst of these (I will not say the least) I will confer on you all +the generations of our Italy, all the ages of our world. But first +(alas, from me you must not have it!) may happiness, long happiness, +attend you! + +_Beatrice._ Ah, those words rend your bosom! why should they? + +_Dante._ I could go away contented, or almost contented, were I sure +of it. Hope is nearly as strong as despair, and greatly more +pertinacious and enduring. You have made me see clearly that you never +can be mine in this world: but at the same time, O Beatrice, you have +made me see quite as clearly that you may and must be mine in another! +I am older than you: precedency is given to age, and not to +worthiness; I will pray for you when I am nearer to God, and purified +from the stains of earth and mortality. He will permit me to behold +you, lovely as when I left you. Angels in vain should call me onward. + +_Beatrice._ Hush, sweetest Dante! hush! + +_Dante._ It is there where I shall have caught the first glimpse of +you again, that I wish all my portion of Paradise to be assigned me; +and there, if far below you, yet within the sight of you, to establish +my perdurable abode. + +_Beatrice._ Is this piety? Is this wisdom? O Dante! And may not I be +called away first? + +_Dante._ Alas, alas, how many small feet have swept off the early dew +of life, leaving the path black behind them! But to think that you +should go before me! It almost sends me forward on my way, to receive +and welcome you. If indeed, O Beatrice, such should be God's immutable +will, sometimes look down on me when the song to Him is suspended. +Oh! look often on me with prayer and pity; for there all prayers are +accepted, and all pity is devoid of pain! Why are you silent? + +_Beatrice._ It is very sinful not to love all creatures in the world. +But it is true, O Dante! that we always love those the most who make +us the most unhappy? + +_Dante._ The remark, I fear, is just. + +_Beatrice._ Then, unless the Virgin be pleased to change my +inclinations, I shall begin at last to love my betrothed; for already +the very idea of him renders me sad, wearisome, and comfortless. +Yesterday he sent me a bunch of violets. When I took them up, +delighted as I felt at that sweetest of odours, which you and I once +inhaled together.... + +_Dante._ And only once. + +_Beatrice._ You know why. Be quiet now, and hear me. I dropped the +posy; for around it, hidden by various kinds of foliage, was twined +the bridal necklace of pearls. O Dante, how worthless are the finest +of them (and there are many fine ones) in comparison with those little +pebbles, some of which (for perhaps I may not have gathered up all) +may be still lying under the peach-tree, and some (do I blush to say +it?) under the fig! Tell me not who threw these, nor for what. But you +know you were always thoughtful, and sometimes reading, sometimes +writing, and sometimes forgetting me, while I waited to see the +crimson cap, and the two bay-leaves I fastened in it, rise above the +garden-wall. How silently you are listening, if you do listen! + +_Dante._ Oh, could my thoughts incessantly and eternally dwell among +these recollections, undisturbed by any other voice ... undistracted +by any other presence! Soon must they abide with me alone, and be +repeated by none but me ... repeated in the accents of anguish and +despair! Why could you not have held in the sad home of your heart +that necklace and those violets? + +_Beatrice._ My Dante! we must all obey ... I my father, you your God. +He will never abandon you. + +_Dante._ I have ever sung, and will for ever sing, the most glorious +of His works: and yet, O Bice! He abandons me, He casts me off; and He +uses your hand for this infliction. + +_Beatrice._ Men travel far and wide, and see many on whom to fix or +transfer their affections; but we maidens have neither the power nor +the will. Casting our eyes on the ground, we walk along the straight +and narrow road prescribed for us; and, doing this, we avoid in great +measure the thorns and entanglements of life. We know we are +performing our duty; and the fruit of this knowledge is contentment. +Season after season, day after day, you have made me serious, pensive, +meditative, and almost wise. Being so little a girl, I was proud that +you, so much taller, should lean on my shoulder to overlook my work. +And greatly more proud was I when in time you taught me several Latin +words, and then whole sentences, both in prose and verse, pasting a +strip of paper over, or obscuring with impenetrable ink, those +passages in the poets which were beyond my comprehension, and might +perplex me. But proudest of all was I when you began to reason with +me. What will now be my pride if you are convinced by the first +arguments I ever have opposed to you; or if you only take them up and +try if they are applicable. Certainly do I know (indeed, indeed I do) +that even the patience to consider them will make you happier. Will it +not then make me so? I entertain no other wish. Is not this true love? + +_Dante._ Ah, yes! the truest, the purest, the least perishable, but +not the sweetest. Here are the rue and hyssop; but where the rose? + +_Beatrice._ Wicked must be whatever torments you: and will you let +love do it? Love is the gentlest and kindest breath of God. Are you +willing that the tempter should intercept it, and respire it polluted +into your ear? Do not make me hesitate to pray to the Virgin for you, +nor tremble lest she look down on you with a reproachful pity. To her +alone, O Dante, dare I confide all my thoughts! Lessen not my +confidence in my only refuge. + +_Dante._ God annihilate a power so criminal! Oh, could my love flow +into your breast with hers! It should flow with equal purity. + +_Beatrice._ You have stored my little mind with many thoughts; dear +because they are yours, and because they are virtuous. May I not, O my +Dante! bring some of them back again to your bosom; as the _contadina_ +lets down the string from the cottage-beam in winter, and culls a few +bunches of the soundest for the master of the vineyard? You have not +given me glory that the world should shudder at its eclipse. To prove +that I am worthy of the smallest part of it, I must obey God; and, +under God, my father. Surely the voice of Heaven comes to us audibly +from a parent's lips. You will be great, and, what is above, all +greatness, good. + +_Dante._ Rightly and wisely, my sweet Beatrice, have you spoken in +this estimate. Greatness is to goodness what gravel is to porphyry: +the one is a movable accumulation, swept along the surface of the +earth; the other stands fixed and solid and alone, above the violence +of war and of the tempest; above all that is residuous of a wasted +world. Little men build up great ones; but the snow colossus soon +melts: the good stand under the eye of God; and therefore stand. + +_Beatrice._ Now you are calm and reasonable, listen to me, Bice. You +must marry. + +_Dante._ Marry? + +_Beatrice._ Unless you do, how can we meet again unreservedly? Worse, +worse than ever! I cannot bear to see those large heavy tears +following one another, heavy and slow as nuns at the funeral of a +sister. Come, I will kiss off one, if you will promise me faithfully +to shed no more. Be tranquil, be tranquil; only hear reason. There are +many who know you; and all who know you must love you. Don't you hear +me? Why turn aside? and why go farther off? I will have that hand. It +twists about as if it hated its confinement. Perverse and peevish +creature! you have no more reason to be sorry than I have; and you +have many to the contrary which I have not. Being a man, you are at +liberty to admire a variety, and to make a choice. Is that no comfort +to you? + +_Dante._ + + Bid this bosom cease to grieve? + Bid these eyes fresh objects see? + Where's the comfort to believe + None might once have rivall'd me? + What! my freedom to receive? + Broken hearts, are they the free? + For another can I live + When I may not live for thee? + +_Beatrice._ I will never be fond of you again if you are so violent. +We have been together too long, and we may be noticed. + +_Dante._ Is this our last meeting? If it is ... and that it is, my +heart has told me ... you will not, surely you will not refuse.... + +_Beatrice._ Dante! Dante! they make the heart sad after: do not wish +it. But prayers ... oh, how much better are they, how much quieter and +lighter they render it! They carry it up to heaven with them; and +those we love are left behind no longer. + + + + +FRA FILIPPO LIPPI AND POPE EUGENIUS THE FOURTH + + +_Eugenius._ Filippo! I am informed by my son Cosimo de' Medici of many +things relating to thy life and actions, and among the rest, of thy +throwing off the habit of a friar. Speak to me as to a friend. Was +that well done? + +_Filippo._ Holy Father! it was done most unadvisedly. + +_Eugenius._ Continue to treat me with the same confidence and +ingenuousness; and, beside the remuneration I intend to bestow on thee +for the paintings wherewith thou hast adorned my palace, I will remove +with my own hand the heavy accumulation of thy sins, and ward off the +peril of fresh ones, placing within thy reach every worldly solace and +contentment. + +_Filippo._ Infinite thanks, Holy Father! from the innermost heart of +your unworthy servant, whose duty and wishes bind him alike and +equally to a strict compliance with your paternal commands. + +_Eugenius._ Was it a love of the world and its vanities that induced +thee to throw aside the frock? + +_Filippo._ It was indeed, Holy Father! I never had the courage to +mention it in confession among my manifold offences. + +_Eugenius._ Bad! bad! Repentance is of little use to the sinner, +unless he pour it from a full and overflowing heart into the capacious +ear of the confessor. Ye must not go straightforward and bluntly up to +your Maker, startling Him with the horrors of your guilty conscience. +Order, decency, time, place, opportunity, must be observed. + +_Filippo._ I have observed the greater part of them: time, place, and +opportunity. + +_Eugenius._ That is much. In consideration of it, I hereby absolve +thee. + +_Filippo._ I feel quite easy, quite new-born. + +_Eugenius._ I am desirous of hearing what sort of feelings thou +experiencest, when thou givest loose to thy intractable and unruly +wishes. Now, this love of the world, what can it mean? A love of +music, of dancing, of riding? What in short is it in thee? + +_Filippo._ Holy Father! I was ever of a hot and amorous constitution. + +_Eugenius._ Well, well! I can guess, within a trifle, what that leads +unto. I very much disapprove of it, whatever it may be. And then? and +then? Prithee go on: I am inflamed with a miraculous zeal to cleanse +thee. + +_Filippo._ I have committed many follies, and some sins. + +_Eugenius._ Let me hear the sins; I do not trouble my head about the +follies; the Church has no business with them. The State is founded on +follies, the Church on sins. Come then, unsack them. + +_Filippo._ Concupiscence is both a folly and a sin. I felt more and +more of it when I ceased to be a monk, not having (for a time) so +ready means of allaying it. + +_Eugenius._ No doubt. Thou shouldst have thought again and again +before thou strippedst off the cowl. + +_Filippo._ Ah! Holy Father! I am sore at heart. I thought indeed how +often it had held two heads together under it, and that stripping it +off was double decapitation. But compensation and contentment came, +and we were warm enough without it. + +_Eugenius._ I am minded to reprove thee gravely. No wonder it pleased +the Virgin, and the saints about her, to permit that the enemy of our +faith should lead thee captive into Barbary. + +_Filippo._ The pleasure was all on their side. + +_Eugenius._ I have heard a great many stories both of males and +females who were taken by Tunisians and Algerines: and although there +is a sameness in certain parts of them, my especial benevolence toward +thee, worthy Filippo, would induce me to lend a vacant ear to thy +report. And now, good Filippo, I could sip a small glass of Muscatel +or Orvieto, and turn over a few bleached almonds, or essay a smart +dried apricot at intervals, and listen while thou relatest to me the +manners and customs of that country, and particularly as touching thy +own adversities. First, how wast thou taken? + +_Filippo._ I was visiting at Pesaro my worshipful friend the canonico +Andrea Paccone, who delighted in the guitar, played it skilfully, and +was always fond of hearing it well accompanied by the voice. My own +instrument I had brought with me, together with many gay Florentine +songs, some of which were of such a turn and tendency, that the +canonico thought they would sound better on water, and rather far from +shore, than within the walls of the canonicate. He proposed then, one +evening when there was little wind stirring, to exercise three young +abbates[9] on their several parts, a little way out of hearing from +the water's edge. + +_Eugenius._ I disapprove of exercising young abbates in that manner. + +_Filippo._ Inadvertently, O Holy Father! I have made the affair seem +worse than it really was. In fact, there were only two genuine +abbates; the third was Donna Lisetta, the good canonico's pretty +niece, who looks so archly at your Holiness when you bend your knees +before her at bedtime. + +_Eugenius._ How? Where? + +_Filippo._ She is the angel on the right-hand side of the Holy Family, +with a tip of amethyst-coloured wing over a basket of figs and +pomegranates. I painted her from memory: she was then only fifteen, +and worthy to be the niece of an archbishop. Alas! she never will be: +she plays and sings among the infidels, and perhaps would eat a +landrail on a Friday as unreluctantly as she would a roach. + +_Eugenius._ Poor soul! So this is the angel with the amethyst-coloured +wing? I thought she looked wanton: we must pray for her release ... +from the bondage of sin. What followed in your excursion? + +_Filippo._ Singing, playing, fresh air, and plashing water, stimulated +our appetites. We had brought no eatable with us but fruit and thin +_marzopane_, of which the sugar and rose-water were inadequate to ward +off hunger; and the sight of a fishing-vessel between us and Ancona, +raised our host immoderately. 'Yonder smack,' said he, 'is sailing at +this moment just over the best sole-bank in the Adriatic. If she +continues her course and we run toward her, we may be supplied, I +trust in God, with the finest fish in Christendom. Methinks I see +already the bellies of those magnificent sole bestar the deck, and +emulate the glories of the orient sky.' He gave his orders with such a +majestic air, that he looked rather like an admiral than a priest. + +_Eugenius._ How now, rogue! Why should not the churchman look +majestically and courageously? I myself have found occasion for it, +and exerted it. + +_Filippo._ The world knows the prowess of your Holiness. + +_Eugenius._ Not mine, not mine, Filippo! but His who gave me the sword +and the keys, and the will and the discretion to use them. I trust the +canonico did not misapply his station and power, by taking the fish at +any unreasonably low price; and that he gave his blessing to the +remainder, and to the poor fishermen and to their nets. + +_Filippo._ He was angry at observing that the vessel, while he thought +it was within hail, stood out again to sea. + +_Eugenius._ He ought to have borne more manfully so slight a vexation. + +_Filippo._ On the contrary, he swore bitterly he would have the +master's ear between his thumb and forefinger in another half-hour, +and regretted that he had cut his nails in the morning lest they +should grate on his guitar. 'They may fish well,' cried he, 'but they +can neither sail nor row; and, when I am in the middle of that tub of +theirs, I will teach them more than they look for.' Sure enough he was +in the middle of it at the time he fixed: but it was by aid of a rope +about his arms and the end of another laid lustily on his back and +shoulders. 'Mount, lazy long-chined turnspit, as thou valuest thy +life,' cried Abdul the corsair, 'and away for Tunis.' If silence is +consent, he had it. The captain, in the Sicilian dialect, told us we +might talk freely, for he had taken his siesta. 'Whose guitars are +those?' said he. As the canonico raised his eyes to heaven and +answered nothing, I replied, 'Sir, one is mine: the other is my worthy +friend's there.' Next he asked the canonico to what market he was +taking those young slaves, pointing to the abbates. The canonico +sobbed and could not utter one word. I related the whole story; at +which he laughed. He then took up the music, and commanded my reverend +guest to sing an air peculiarly tender, invoking the compassion of a +nymph, and calling her cold as ice. Never did so many or such profound +sighs accompany it. When it ended, he sang one himself in his own +language, on a lady whose eyes were exactly like the scimitars of +Damascus, and whose eyebrows met in the middle like the cudgels of +prize-fighters. On the whole she resembled both sun and moon, with the +simple difference that she never allowed herself to be seen, lest all +the nations of the earth should go to war for her, and not a man to be +left to breathe out his soul before her. This poem had obtained the +prize at the University of Fez, had been translated into the Arabic, +the Persian, and the Turkish languages, and was the favourite lay of +the corsair. He invited me lastly to try my talent. I played the same +air on the guitar, and apologized for omitting the words, from my +utter ignorance of the Moorish. Abdul was much pleased, and took the +trouble to convince me that the poetry they conveyed, which he +translated literally, was incomparably better than ours. 'Cold as +ice!' he repeated, scoffing: 'anybody might say that who had seen +Atlas: but a genuine poet would rather say, "Cold as a lizard or a +lobster."' There is no controverting a critic who has twenty stout +rowers, and twenty well-knotted rope-ends. Added to which, he seemed +to know as much of the matter as the generality of those who talked +about it. He was gratified by my attention and edification, and thus +continued: 'I have remarked in the songs I have heard, that these wild +woodland creatures of the west, these nymphs, are a strange +fantastical race. But are your poets not ashamed to complain of their +inconstancy? whose fault is that? If ever it should be my fortune to +take one, I would try whether I could not bring her down to the level +of her sex; and if her inconstancy caused any complaints, by Allah! +they should be louder and shriller than ever rose from the throat of +Abdul.' I still thought it better to be a disciple than a commentator. + +_Eugenius._ If we could convert this barbarian and detain him awhile +at Rome, he would learn that women and nymphs (and inconstancy also) +are one and the same. These cruel men have no lenity, no suavity. They +who do not as they would be done by, are done by very much as they do. +Women will glide away from them like water; they can better bear two +masters than half one; and a new metal must be discovered before any +bars are strong enough to confine them. But proceed with your +narrative. + +_Filippo._ Night had now closed upon us. Abdul placed the younger of +the company apart, and after giving them some boiled rice, sent them +down into his own cabin. The sailors, observing the consideration and +distinction with which their master had treated me, were civil and +obliging. Permission was granted me, at my request, to sleep on deck. + +_Eugenius._ What became of your canonico? + +_Filippo._ The crew called him a conger, a priest, and a porpoise. + +_Eugenius._ Foul-mouthed knaves! could not one of these terms content +them? On thy leaving Barbary was he left behind? + +_Filippo._ Your Holiness consecrated him, the other day, Bishop of +Macerata. + +_Eugenius._ True, true; I remember the name, Saccone. How did he +contrive to get off? + +_Filippo._ He was worth little at any work; and such men are the +quickest both to get off and to get on. Abdul told me he had received +three thousand crowns for his ransom. + +_Eugenius._ He was worth more to him than to me. I received but two +first-fruits, and such other things as of right belong to me by +inheritance. The bishopric is passably rich: he may serve thee. + +_Filippo._ While he was a canonico he was a jolly fellow; not very +generous; for jolly fellows are seldom that; but he would give a +friend a dinner, a flask of wine or two in preference, and a piece of +advice as readily as either. I waited on monsignor at Macerata, soon +after his elevation. + +_Eugenius._ He must have been heartily glad to embrace his companion +in captivity, and the more especially as he himself was the cause of +so grievous a misfortune. + +_Filippo._ He sent me word he was so unwell he could not see me. +'What!' said I to his valet, 'is monsignor's complaint in his eyes?' +The fellow shrugged up his shoulders and walked away. Not believing +that the message was a refusal to admit me, I went straight upstairs, +and finding the door of an antechamber half open, and a chaplain +milling an egg-posset over the fire, I accosted him. The air of +familiarity and satisfaction he observed in me left no doubt in his +mind that I had been invited by his patron. 'Will the man never come?' +cried his lordship. 'Yes, monsignor!' exclaimed I, running in and +embracing him; 'behold him here!' He started back, and then I first +discovered the wide difference between an old friend and an +egg-posset. + +_Eugenius._ Son Filippo! thou hast seen but little of the world, and +art but just come from Barbary. Go on. + +_Filippo._ 'Fra Filippo!' said he gravely, 'I am glad to see you. I +did not expect you just at present: I am not very well: I had ordered +a medicine and was impatient to take it. If you will favour me with +the name of your inn, I will send for you when I am in a condition to +receive you; perhaps within a day or two.' 'Monsignor!' said I, 'a +change of residence often gives a man a cold, and oftener a change of +fortune. Whether you caught yours upon deck (where we last saw each +other), from being more exposed than usual, or whether the mitre holds +wind, is no question for me, and no concern of mine.' + +_Eugenius._ A just reproof, if an archbishop had made it. On uttering +it, I hope thou kneeledst and kissedst his hand. + +_Filippo._ I did not indeed. + +_Eugenius._ Oh, there wert thou greatly in the wrong! Having, it is +reported, a good thousand crowns yearly of patrimony, and a canonicate +worth six hundred more, he might have attempted to relieve thee from +slavery, by assisting thy relatives in thy redemption. + +_Filippo._ The three thousand crowns were the uttermost he could +raise, he declared to Abdul, and he asserted that a part of the money +was contributed by the inhabitants of Pesaro. 'Do they act out of pure +mercy?' said he. 'Ay, they must, for what else could move them in +behalf of such a lazy, unserviceable street-fed cur?' In the morning, +at sunrise, he was sent aboard. And now, the vessel being under weigh, +'I have a letter from my lord Abdul,' said the master, 'which, being +in thy language, two fellow slaves shall read unto thee publicly.' +They came forward and began the reading. 'Yesterday I purchased these +two slaves from a cruel, unrelenting master, under whose lash they +have laboured for nearly thirty years. I hereby give orders that five +ounces of my own gold be weighed out to them.' Here one of the slaves +fell on his face; the other lifted up his hands, praised God, and +blessed his benefactor. + +_Eugenius._ The pirate? the unconverted pirate? + +_Filippo._ Even so. 'Here is another slip of paper for thyself to read +immediately in my presence,' said the master. The words it contained +were, 'Do thou the same, or there enters thy lips neither food nor +water until thou landest in Italy. I permit thee to carry away more +than double the sum: I am no sutler: I do not contract for thy +sustenance.' The canonico asked of the master whether he knew the +contents of the letter; he replied no. 'Tell your master, lord Abdul, +that I shall take them into consideration.' 'My lord expected a much +plainer answer, and commanded me, in case of any such as thou hast +delivered, to break this seal.' He pressed it to his forehead and then +broke it. Having perused the characters reverentially, 'Christian! +dost thou consent?' The canonico fell on his knees, and overthrew the +two poor wretches who, saying their prayers, had remained in the same +posture before him quite unnoticed. 'Open thy trunk and take out thy +money-bag, or I will make room for it in thy bladder.' The canonico +was prompt in the execution of the command. The master drew out his +scales, and desired the canonico to weigh with his own hand five +ounces. He groaned and trembled: the balance was unsteady. 'Throw in +another piece: it will not vitiate the agreement,' cried the master. +It was done. Fear and grief are among the thirsty passions, but add +little to the appetite. It seemed, however, as if every sigh had left +a vacancy in the stomach of the canonico. At dinner the cook brought +him a salted bonito, half an ell in length; and in five minutes his +reverence was drawing his middle finger along the white backbone, out +of sheer idleness, until were placed before him some as fine dried +locusts as ever provisioned the tents of Africa, together with olives +the size of eggs and colour of bruises, shining in oil and brine. He +found them savoury and pulpy, and, as the last love supersedes the +foregoing, he gave them the preference, even over the delicate +locusts. When he had finished them, he modestly requested a can of +water. A sailor brought a large flask, and poured forth a plentiful +supply. The canonico engulfed the whole, and instantly threw himself +back in convulsive agony. 'How is this?' cried the sailor. The master +ran up and, smelling the water, began to buffet him, exclaiming, as he +turned round to all the crew, 'How came this flask here?' All were +innocent. It appeared, however, that it was a flask of mineral water, +strongly sulphureous, taken out of a Neapolitan vessel, laden with a +great abundance of it for some hospital in the Levant. It had taken +the captor by surprise in the same manner as the canonico. He himself +brought out instantly a capacious stone jar covered with dew, and +invited the sufferer into the cabin. Here he drew forth two richly-cut +wineglasses, and, on filling one of them, the outside of it turned +suddenly pale, with a myriad of indivisible drops, and the senses were +refreshed with the most delicious fragrance. He held up the glass +between himself and his guest, and looking at it attentively, said, +'Here is no appearance of wine; all I can see is water. Nothing is +wickeder than too much curiosity: we must take what Allah sends us, +and render thanks for it, although it fall far short of our +expectations. Besides, our Prophet would rather we should even drink +wine than poison.' The canonico had not tasted wine for two months: a +longer abstinence than ever canonico endured before. He drooped: but +the master looked still more disconsolate. 'I would give whatever I +possess on earth rather than die of thirst,' cried the canonico. 'Who +would not?' rejoined the captain, sighing and clasping his fingers. +'If it were not contrary to my commands, I could touch at some cove or +inlet.' 'Do, for the love of Christ!' exclaimed the canonico. 'Or even +sail back,' continued the captain. 'O Santa Vergine!' cried in anguish +the canonico. 'Despondency,' said the captain, with calm solemnity, +'has left many a man to be thrown overboard: it even renders the +plague, and many other disorders, more fatal. Thirst too has a +powerful effect in exasperating them. Overcome such weaknesses, or I +must do my duty. The health of the ship's company is placed under my +care; and our lord Abdul, if he suspected the pest, would throw a Jew, +or a Christian, or even a bale of silk, into the sea: such is the +disinterestedness and magnanimity of my lord Abdul.' 'He believes in +fate; does he not?' said the canonico. 'Doubtless: but he says it is +as much fated that he should throw into the sea a fellow who is +infected, as that the fellow should have ever been so.' 'Save me, oh, +save me!' cried the canonico, moist as if the spray had pelted him. +'Willingly, if possible,' answered calmly the master. 'At present I +can discover no certain symptoms; for sweat, unless followed by +general prostration, both of muscular strength and animal spirits, may +be cured without a hook at the heel.' 'Giesu-Maria!' ejaculated the +canonico. + +_Eugenius._ And the monster could withstand that appeal? + +_Filippo._ It seems so. The renegade who related to me, on my return, +these events as they happened, was very circumstantial. He is a +Corsican, and had killed many men in battle, and more out; but is (he +gave me his word for it) on the whole an honest man. + +_Eugenius._ How so? honest? and a renegade? + +_Filippo._ He declared to me that, although the Mahomedan is the best +religion to live in, the Christian is the best to die in; and that, +when he has made his fortune, he will make his confession, and lie +snugly in the bosom of the Church. + +_Eugenius._ See here the triumphs of our holy faith! The lost sheep +will be found again. + +_Filippo._ Having played the butcher first. + +_Eugenius._ Return we to that bad man, the master or captain, who +evinced no such dispositions. + +_Filippo._ He added, 'The other captives, though older men, have +stouter hearts than mine.' 'Alas! they are longer used to hardships,' +answered he. 'Dost thou believe, in thy conscience,' said the captain, +'that the water we have aboard would be harmless to them? for we have +no other; and wine is costly; and our quantity might be insufficient +for those who can afford to pay for it.' 'I will answer for their +lives,' replied the canonico. 'With thy own?' interrogated sharply the +Tunisian. 'I must not tempt God,' said, in tears, the religious man. +'Let us be plain,' said the master. 'Thou knowest thy money is safe; I +myself counted it before thee when I brought it from the scrivener's; +thou hast sixty broad gold pieces; wilt thou be answerable, to the +whole amount of them, for the lives of thy two countrymen if they +drink this water?' 'O sir!' said the canonico, 'I will give it, if, +only for these few days of voyage, you vouchsafe me one bottle daily +of that restorative wine of Bordeaux. The other two are less liable to +the plague: they do not sorrow and sweat as I do. They are spare men. +There is enough of me to infect a fleet with it; and I cannot bear to +think of being in any wise the cause of evil to my fellow-creatures.' +'The wine is my patron's,' cried the Tunisian; 'he leaves everything +at my discretion: should I deceive him?' 'If he leaves everything at +your discretion,' observed the logician of Pesaro, 'there is no deceit +in disposing of it.' The master appeared to be satisfied with the +argument. 'Thou shalt not find me exacting,' said he; 'give me the +sixty pieces, and the wine shall be thine.' At a signal, when the +contract was agreed to, the two slaves entered, bringing a hamper of +jars. 'Read the contract before thou signest,' cried the master. He +read. 'How is this? how is this? _Sixty golden ducats to the brothers +Antonio and Bernabo Panini, for wine received from them?_' The aged +men tottered under the stroke of joy; and Bernabo, who would have +embraced his brother, fainted. + +On the morrow there was a calm, and the weather was extremely sultry. +The canonico sat in his shirt on deck, and was surprised to see, I +forget which of the brothers, drink from a goblet a prodigious draught +of water. 'Hold!' cried he angrily; 'you may eat instead; but putrid +or sulphureous water, you have heard, may produce the plague, and +honest men be the sufferers by your folly and intemperance.' They +assured him the water was tasteless, and very excellent, and had been +kept cool in the same kind of earthern jars as the wine. He tasted it, +and lost his patience. It was better, he protested, than any wine in +the world. They begged his acceptance of the jar containing it. But +the master, who had witnessed at a distance the whole proceeding, now +advanced, and, placing his hand against it, said sternly, 'Let him +have his own.' Usually, when he had emptied the second bottle, a +desire of converting the Mohammedans came over him: and they showed +themselves much less obstinate and refractory than they are generally +thought. He selected those for edification who swore the oftenest and +the loudest by the Prophet; and he boasted in his heart of having +overcome, by precept and example, the stiffest tenet of their +abominable creed. Certainly they drank wine, and somewhat freely. The +canonico clapped his hands, and declared that even some of the +apostles had been more pertinacious recusants of the faith. + +_Eugenius._ Did he so? Cappari! I would not have made him a bishop for +twice the money if I had known it earlier. Could not he have left them +alone? Suppose one or other of them did doubt and persecute, was he +the man to blab it out among the heathen? + +_Filippo._ A judgment, it appears, fell on him for so doing. A very +quiet sailor, who had always declined his invitations, and had always +heard his arguments at a distance and in silence, being pressed and +urged by him, and reproved somewhat arrogantly and loudly, as less +docile than his messmates, at last lifted up his leg behind him, +pulled off his right slipper, and counted deliberately and distinctly +thirty-nine sound strokes of the same, on the canonico's broadest +tablet, which (please your Holiness) might be called, not inaptly, +from that day the tablet of memory. In vain he cried out. Some of the +mariners made their moves at chess and waved their left hands as if +desirous of no interruption; others went backward and forward about +their business, and took no more notice than if their messmate was +occupied in caulking a seam or notching a flint. The master himself, +who saw the operation, heard the complaint in the evening, and lifted +up his shoulders and eyebrows, as if the whole were quite unknown to +him. Then, acting as judge-advocate, he called the young man before +him and repeated the accusation. To this the defence was purely +interrogative. 'Why would he convert me? I never converted him.' +Turning to his spiritual guide, he said, 'I quite forgive thee: nay, I +am ready to appear in thy favour, and to declare that, in general, +thou hast been more decorous than people of thy faith and profession +usually are, and hast not scattered on deck that inflammatory language +which I, habited in the dress of a Greek, heard last Easter. I went +into three churches; and the preachers in all three denounced the +curse of Allah on every soul that differed from them a tittle. They +were children of perdition, children of darkness, children of the +devil, one and all. It seemed a matter of wonder to me, that, in such +numerous families and of such indifferent parentage, so many slippers +were kept under the heel. Mine, in an evil hour, escaped me: but I +quite forgive thee. After this free pardon I will indulge thee with a +short specimen of my preaching. I will call none of you a generation +of vipers, as ye call one another; for vipers neither bite nor eat +during many months of the year: I will call none of you wolves in +sheep's clothing; for if ye are, it must be acknowledged that the +clothing is very clumsily put on. You priests, however, take people's +souls aboard whether they will or not, just as we do your bodies: and +you make them pay much more for keeping these in slavery than we make +you pay for setting you free body and soul together. You declare that +the precious souls, to the especial care of which Allah has called and +appointed you, frequently grow corrupt, and stink in His nostrils. +Now, I invoke thy own testimony to the fact that thy soul, gross as I +imagine it to be from the greasy wallet that holds it, had no carnal +thoughts whatsoever, and that thy carcass did not even receive a +fly-blow, while it was under my custody. Thy guardian angel (I speak +it in humility) could not ventilate thee better. Nevertheless, I +should scorn to demand a single maravedi for my labour and skill, or +for the wear and tear of my pantoufle. My reward will be in Paradise, +where a houri is standing in the shade, above a vase of gold and +silver fish, with a kiss on her lip, and an unbroken pair of green +slippers in her hand for me.' Saying which, he took off his foot +again, the one he had been using, and showed the sole of it, first to +the master, then to all the crew, and declared it had become (as they +might see) so smooth and oily by the application, that it was +dangerous to walk on deck in it. + +_Eugenius._ See! what notions these creatures have, both of their +fool's paradise and of our holy faith! The seven Sacraments, I warrant +you, go for nothing! Purgatory, purgatory itself, goes for nothing! + +_Filippo._ Holy Father! we must stop thee. _That_ does not go for +nothing, however. + +_Eugenius._ Filippo! God forbid I should suspect thee of any heretical +taint; but this smells very like it. If thou hast it now, tell me +honestly. I mean, hold thy tongue. Florentines are rather lax. Even +Son Cosimo might be stricter: so they say: perhaps his enemies. The +great always have them abundantly, beside those by whom they are +served, and those also whom they serve. Now would I give a silver +rose with my benediction on it, to know of a certainty what became of +those poor creatures the abbates. The initiatory rite of Mohammedanism +is most diabolically malicious. According to the canons of our +Catholic Church, it disqualifies the neophyte for holy orders, without +going so far as adapting him to the choir of the pontifical chapel. +They limp; they halt. + +_Filippo._ Beatitude! which of them? + +_Eugenius._ The unbelievers: they surely are found wanting. + +_Filippo._ The unbelievers too? + +_Eugenius._ Ay, ay, thou half renegade! Couldst not thou go over with +a purse of silver, and try whether the souls of these captives be +recoverable? Even if they should have submitted to such unholy rites, +I venture to say they have repented. + +_Filippo._ The devil is in them if they have not. + +_Eugenius._ They may become again as good Christians as before. + +_Filippo._ Easily, methinks. + +_Eugenius._ Not so easily; but by aid of Holy Church in the +administration of indulgences. + +_Filippo._ They never wanted those, whatever they want. + +_Eugenius._ The corsair then is not one of those ferocious creatures +which appear to connect our species with the lion and panther. + +_Filippo._ By no means, Holy Father! He is an honest man; so are many +of his countrymen, bating the Sacrament. + +_Eugenius._ Bating! poor beguiled Filippo! Being unbaptized, they are +only as the beasts that perish: nay worse: for the soul being +imperishable, it must stick to their bodies at the last day, whether +they will or no, and must sink with it into the fire and brimstone. + +_Filippo._ Unbaptized! why, they baptize every morning. + +_Eugenius._ Worse and worse! I thought they only missed the stirrup; +I find they overleap the saddle. Obstinate blind reprobates! of whom +it is written ... of whom it is written ... of whom, I say, it is +written ... as shall be manifest before men and angels in the day of +wrath. + +_Filippo._ More is the pity! for they are hospitable, frank, and +courteous. It is delightful to see their gardens, when one has not the +weeding and irrigation of them. What fruit! what foliage! what +trellises! what alcoves! what a contest of rose and jessamine for +supremacy in odour! of lute and nightingale for victory in song! And +how the little bright ripples of the docile brooks, the fresher for +their races, leap up against one another, to look on! and how they +chirrup and applaud, as if they too had a voice of some importance in +these parties of pleasure that are loath to separate. + +_Eugenius._ Parties of pleasure! birds, fruits, shallow-running +waters, lute-players, and wantons! Parties of pleasure! and composed +of these! Tell me now, Filippo, tell me truly, what complexion in +general have the discreeter females of that hapless country. + +_Filippo._ The colour of an orange-flower, on which an overladen bee +has left a slight suffusion of her purest honey. + +_Eugenius._ We must open their eyes. + +_Filippo._ Knowing what excellent hides the slippers of this people +are made of, I never once ventured on their less perfect theology, +fearing to find it written that I should be abed on my face the next +fortnight. My master had expressed his astonishment that a religion so +admirable as ours was represented should be the only one in the world +the precepts of which are disregarded by all conditions of men. 'Our +Prophet,' said he, 'our Prophet ordered us to go forth and conquer; we +did it: yours ordered you to sit quiet and forbear; and, after +spitting in His face, you threw the order back into it, and fought +like devils.' + +_Eugenius._ The barbarians talk of our Holy Scriptures as if they +understood them perfectly. The impostor they follow has nothing but +fustian and rodomontade in his impudent lying book from beginning to +end. I know it, Filippo, from those who have contrasted it, page by +page, paragraph by paragraph, and have given the knave his due. + +_Filippo._ Abdul is by no means deficient in a good opinion of his own +capacity and his Prophet's all-sufficiency, but he never took me to +task about my faith or his own. + +_Eugenius._ How wert thou mainly occupied? + +_Filippo._ I will give your Holiness a sample both of my employments +and of his character. He was going one evening to a country-house, +about fifteen miles from Tunis; and he ordered me to accompany him. I +found there a spacious garden, overrun with wild flowers and most +luxuriant grass, in irregular tufts, according to the dryness or the +humidity of the spot. The clematis overtopped the lemon and +orange-trees; and the perennial pea sent forth here a pink blossom, +here a purple, here a white one, and after holding (as it were) a +short conversation with the humbler plants, sprang up about an old +cypress, played among its branches, and mitigated its gloom. White +pigeons, and others in colour like the dawn of day, looked down on us +and ceased to coo, until some of their companions, in whom they had +more confidence, encouraged them loudly from remoter boughs, or +alighted on the shoulders of Abdul, at whose side I was standing. A +few of them examined me in every position their inquisitive eyes could +take; displaying all the advantages of their versatile necks, and +pretending querulous fear in the midst of petulant approaches. + +_Eugenius._ Is it of pigeons thou art talking, O Filippo? I hope it +may be. + +_Filippo._ Of Abdul's pigeons. He was fond of taming all creatures; +men, horses, pigeons, equally: but he tamed them all by kindness. In +this wilderness is an edifice not unlike our Italian chapter-houses +built by the Lombards, with long narrow windows, high above the +ground. The centre is now a bath, the waters of which, in another part +of the enclosure, had supplied a fountain, at present in ruins, and +covered by tufted canes, and by every variety of aquatic plants. The +structure has no remains of roof: and, of six windows, one alone is +unconcealed by ivy. This had been walled up long ago, and the cement +in the inside of it was hard and polished. 'Lippi!' said Abdul to me, +after I had long admired the place in silence, 'I leave to thy +superintendence this bath and garden. Be sparing of the leaves and +branches: make paths only wide enough for me. Let me see no mark of +hatchet or pruning-hook, and tell the labourers that whoever takes a +nest or an egg shall be impaled.' + +_Eugenius._ Monster! so then he would really have impaled a poor +wretch for eating a bird's egg? How disproportionate is the punishment +to the offence! + +_Filippo._ He efficiently checked in his slaves the desire of +transgressing his command. To spare them as much as possible, I +ordered them merely to open a few spaces, and to remove the weaker +trees from the stronger. Meanwhile I drew on the smooth blank window +the figure of Abdul and of a beautiful girl. + +_Eugenius._ Rather say handmaiden: choicer expression; more decorous. + +_Filippo._ Holy Father! I have been lately so much out of practice, I +take the first that comes in my way. Handmaiden I will use in +preference for the future. + +_Eugenius._ On then! and God speed thee! + +_Filippo._ I drew Abdul with a blooming handmaiden. One of his feet +is resting on her lap, and she is drying the ankle with a saffron +robe, of which the greater part is fallen in doing it. That she is a +bondmaid is discernible, not only by her occupation, but by her +humility and patience, by her loose and flowing brown hair, and by her +eyes expressing the timidity at once of servitude and of fondness. The +countenance was taken from fancy, and was the loveliest I could +imagine: of the figure I had some idea, having seen it to advantage in +Tunis. After seven days Abdul returned. He was delighted with the +improvement made in the garden. I requested him to visit the bath. 'We +can do nothing to that,' answered he impatiently. 'There is no +sudatory, no dormitory, no dressing-room, no couch. Sometimes I sit an +hour there in the summer, because I never found a fly in it--the +principal curse of hot countries, and against which plague there is +neither prayer nor amulet, nor indeed any human defence.' He went away +into the house. At dinner he sent me from his table some quails and +ortolans, and tomatoes and honey and rice, beside a basket of fruit +covered with moss and bay-leaves, under which I found a verdino fig, +deliciously ripe, and bearing the impression of several small teeth, +but certainly no reptile's. + +_Eugenius._ There might have been poison in them, for all that. + +_Filippo._ About two hours had passed, when I heard a whir and a crash +in the windows of the bath (where I had dined and was about to sleep), +occasioned by the settling and again the flight of some pheasants. +Abdul entered. 'Beard of the Prophet! what hast thou been doing? That +is myself! No, no, Lippi! thou never canst have seen her: the face +proves it: but those limbs! thou hast divined them aright: thou hast +had sweet dreams then! Dreams are large possessions: in them the +possessor may cease to possess his own. To the slave, O Allah! to the +slave is permitted what is not his!... I burn with anguish to think +how much ... yea, at that very hour. I would not another should, even +in a dream.... But, Lippi! thou never canst have seen above the +sandal?' To which I answered, 'I never have allowed my eyes to look +even on that. But if any one of my lord Abdul's fair slaves resembles, +as they surely must all do, in duty and docility, the figure I have +represented, let it express to him my congratulation on his +happiness.' 'I believe,' said he, 'such representations are forbidden +by the Koran; but as I do not remember it, I do not sin. There it +shall stay, unless the angel Gabriel comes to forbid it.' He smiled in +saying so. + +_Eugenius._ There is hope of this Abdul. His faith hangs about him +more like oil than pitch. + +_Filippo._ He inquired of me whether I often thought of those I loved +in Italy, and whether I could bring them before my eyes at will. To +remove all suspicion from him, I declared I always could, and that one +beautiful object occupied all the cells of my brain by night and day. +He paused and pondered, and then said, 'Thou dost not love deeply.' I +thought I had given the true signs. 'No, Lippi! we who love ardently, +we, with all our wishes, all the efforts of our souls, cannot bring +before us the features which, while they were present, we thought it +impossible we ever could forget. Alas! when we most love the absent, +when we most desire to see her, we try in vain to bring her image back +to us. The troubled heart shakes and confounds it, even as ruffled +waters do with shadows. Hateful things are more hateful when they +haunt our sleep: the lovely flee away, or are changed into less +lovely.' + +_Eugenius._ What figures now have these unbelievers? + +_Filippo._ Various in their combinations as the letters or the +numerals; but they all, like these, signify something. Almeida (did I +not inform your Holiness?) has large hazel eyes.... + +_Eugenius._ Has she? thou never toldest me that. Well, well! and what +else has she? Mind! be cautious! use decent terms. + +_Filippo._ Somewhat pouting lips. + +_Eugenius._ Ha! ha! What did they pout at? + +_Filippo._ And she is rather plump than otherwise. + +_Eugenius._ No harm in that. + +_Filippo._ And moreover is cool, smooth, and firm as a nectarine +gathered before sunrise. + +_Eugenius._ Ha! ha! do not remind me of nectarines. I am very fond of +them; and this is not the season! Such females as thou describest are +said to be among the likeliest to give reasonable cause for suspicion. +I would not judge harshly, I would not think uncharitably; but, +unhappily, being at so great a distance from spiritual aid, +peradventure a desire, a suggestion, an inkling ... ay? If she, the +lost Almeida, came before thee when her master was absent ... which I +trust she never did.... But those flowers and shrubs and odours and +alleys and long grass and alcoves, might strangely hold, perplex, and +entangle, two incautious young persons ... ay? + +_Filippo._ I confessed all I had to confess in this matter the evening +I landed. + +_Eugenius._ Ho! I am no candidate for a seat at the rehearsal of +confessions: but perhaps my absolution might be somewhat more pleasing +and unconditional. Well! well! since I am unworthy of such confidence, +go about thy business ... paint! paint! + +_Filippo._ Am I so unfortunate as to have offended your Beatitude? + +_Eugenius._ Offend _me_, man! who offends _me_? I took an interest in +thy adventures, and was concerned lest thou mightest have sinned; for +by my soul! Filippo! those are the women that the devil hath set his +mark on. + +_Filippo._ It would do your Holiness's heart good to rub it out again, +wherever he may have had the cunning to make it. + +_Eugenius._ Deep! deep! + +_Filippo._ Yet it may be got at; she being a Biscayan by birth, as she +told me, and not only baptized, but going by sea along the coast for +confirmation, when she was captured. + +_Eugenius._ Alas! to what an imposition of hands was this tender young +thing devoted! Poor soul! + +_Filippo._ I sigh for her myself when I think of her. + +_Eugenius._ Beware lest the sigh be mundane, and lest the thought +recur too often. I wish it were presently in my power to examine her +myself on her condition. What thinkest thou? Speak. + +_Filippo._ Holy Father! she would laugh in your face. + +_Eugenius._ So lost! + +_Filippo._ She declared to me she thought she should have died, from +the instant she was captured until she was comforted by Abdul: but +that she was quite sure she should if she were ransomed. + +_Eugenius._ Has the wretch then shaken her faith? + +_Filippo._ The very last thing he would think of doing. Never did I +see the virtue of resignation in higher perfection than in the +laughing, light-hearted Almeida. + +_Eugenius._ Lamentable! Poor lost creature! lost in this world and in +the next. + +_Filippo._ What could she do? how could she help herself? + +_Eugenius._ She might have torn his eyes out, and have died a martyr. + +_Filippo._ Or have been bastinadoed, whipped, and given up to the +cooks and scullions for it. + +_Eugenius._ Martyrdom is the more glorious the greater the indignities +it endures. + +_Filippo._ Almeida seems unambitious. There are many in our Tuscany +who would jump at the crown over those sloughs and briers, rather than +perish without them: she never sighs after the like. + +_Eugenius._ Nevertheless, what must she witness! what abominations! +what superstitions! + +_Filippo._ Abdul neither practises nor exacts any other superstition +than ablutions. + +_Eugenius._ Detestable rites! without our authority. I venture to +affirm that, in the whole of Italy and Spain, no convent of monks or +nuns contains a bath; and that the worst inmate of either would +shudder at the idea of observing such a practice in common with the +unbeliever. For the washing of the feet indeed we have the authority +of the earlier Christians; and it may be done; but solemnly and +sparingly. Thy residence among the Mahomedans, I am afraid, hath +rendered thee more favourable to them than beseems a Catholic, and thy +mind, I do suspect, sometimes goes back into Barbary unreluctantly. + +_Filippo._ While I continued in that country, although I was well +treated, I often wished myself away, thinking of my friends in +Florence, of music, of painting, of our villeggiatura at the +vintage-time; whether in the green and narrow glades of Pratolino, +with lofty trees above us, and little rills unseen, and little bells +about the necks of sheep and goats, tinkling together ambiguously; or +amid the grey quarries, or under the majestic walls of modern Fiesole; +or down in the woods of the Doccia, where the cypresses are of such a +girth that, when a youth stands against one of them, and a maiden +stands opposite, and they clasp it, their hands at the time do little +more than meet. Beautiful scenes, on which heaven smiles eternally, +how often has my heart ached for you! He who hath lived in this +country can enjoy no distant one. He breathes here another air; he +lives more life; a brighter sun invigorates his studies, and serener +stars influence his repose. Barbary hath also the blessing of climate; +and although I do not desire to be there again, I feel sometimes a +kind of regret at leaving it. A bell warbles the more mellifluously in +the air when the sound of the stroke is over, and when another swims +out from underneath it, and pants upon the element that gave it birth. +In like manner the recollection of a thing is frequently more pleasing +than the actuality; what is harsh is dropped in the space between. +There is in Abdul a nobility of soul on which I often have reflected +with admiration. I have seen many of the highest rank and +distinction, in whom I could find nothing of the great man, excepting +a fondness for low company, and an aptitude to shy and start at every +spark of genius or virtue that sprang up above or before them. Abdul +was solitary, but affable: he was proud, but patient and complacent. I +ventured once to ask him how the master of so rich a house in the +city, of so many slaves, of so many horses and mules, of such +cornfields, of such pastures, of such gardens, woods, and fountains, +should experience any delight or satisfaction in infesting the open +sea, the high-road of nations. Instead of answering my question, he +asked me in return whether I would not respect any relative of mine +who avenged his country, enriched himself by his bravery, and endeared +to him his friends and relatives by his bounty. On my reply in the +affirmative, he said that his family had been deprived of possessions +in Spain much more valuable than all the ships and cargoes he could +ever hope to capture, and that the remains of his nation were +threatened with ruin and expulsion. 'I do not fight,' said he, +'whenever it suits the convenience, or gratifies the malignity, or the +caprice of two silly, quarrelsome princes, drawing my sword in +perfectly good humour, and sheathing it again at word of command, just +when I begin to get into a passion. No; I fight on my own account; not +as a hired assassin, or still baser journeyman.' + +_Eugenius._ It appears then really that the Infidels have some +semblances of magnanimity and generosity? + +_Filippo._ I thought so when I turned over the many changes of fine +linen; and I was little short of conviction when I found at the bottom +of my chest two hundred Venetian zecchins. + +_Eugenius._ Corpo di Bacco! Better things, far better things, I would +fain do for thee, not exactly of this description; it would excite +many heart-burnings. Information has been laid before me, Filippo, +that thou art attached to a certain young person, by name Lucrezia, +daughter of Francesco Buti, a citizen of Prato. + +_Filippo._ I acknowledge my attachment: it continues. + +_Eugenius._ Furthermore, that thou hast offspring by her. + +_Filippo._ Alas! 'tis undeniable. + +_Eugenius._ I will not only legitimatize the said offspring by _motu +proprio_ and rescript to consistory and chancery.... + +_Filippo._ Holy Father! Holy Father! For the love of the Virgin, not a +word to consistory or chancery of the two hundred zecchins. As I hope +for salvation, I have but forty left, and thirty-nine would not serve +them. + +_Eugenius._ Fear nothing. Not only will I perform what I have +promised, not only will I give the strictest order that no money be +demanded by any officer of my courts, but, under the seal of Saint +Peter, I will declare thee and Lucrezia Buti man and wife. + +_Filippo._ Man and wife! + +_Eugenius._ Moderate thy transport. + +_Filippo._ O Holy Father! may I speak? + +_Eugenius._ Surely she is not the wife of another? + +_Filippo._ No, indeed. + +_Eugenius._ Nor within the degrees of consanguinity and affinity? + +_Filippo._ No, no, no. But ... man and wife! Consistory and chancery +are nothing to this fulmination. + +_Eugenius._ How so? + +_Filippo._ It is man and wife the first fortnight, but wife and man +ever after. The two figures change places: the unit is the decimal and +the decimal is the unit. + +_Eugenius._ What, then, can I do for thee? + +_Filippo._ I love Lucrezia; let me love her; let her love me. I can +make her at any time what she is not; I could never make her again +what she is. + +_Eugenius._ The only thing I can do then is to promise I will forget +that I have heard anything about the matter. But, to forget it, I must +hear it first. + +_Filippo._ In the beautiful little town of Prato, reposing in its +idleness against the hill that protects it from the north, and looking +over fertile meadows, southward to Poggio Cajano, westward to Pistoja, +there is the convent of Santa Margarita. I was invited by the sisters +to paint an altar-piece for the chapel. A novice of fifteen, my own +sweet Lucrezia, came one day alone to see me work at my Madonna. Her +blessed countenance had already looked down on every beholder lower by +the knees. I myself who made her could almost have worshipped her. + +_Eugenius._ Not while incomplete; no half-virgin will do. + +_Filippo._ But there knelt Lucrezia! there she knelt! first looking +with devotion at the Madonna, then with admiring wonder and grateful +delight at the artist. Could so little a heart be divided? 'Twere a +pity! There was enough for me; there is never enough for the Madonna. +Resolving on a sudden that the object of my love should be the object +of adoration to thousands, born and unborn, I swept my brush across +the maternal face, and left a blank in heaven. The little girl +screamed; I pressed her to my bosom. + +_Eugenius._ In the chapel? + +_Filippo._ I knew not where I was; I thought I was in Paradise. + +_Eugenius._ If it was not in the chapel, the sin is venial. But a +brush against a Madonna's mouth is worse than a beard against her +votary's. + +_Filippo._ I thought so too, Holy Father! + +_Eugenius._ Thou sayest thou hast forty zecchins; I will try in due +season to add forty more. The fisherman must not venture to measure +forces with the pirate. Farewell! I pray God my son Filippo, to have +thee alway in His holy keeping. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[9] Little boys, wearing clerical habits, are often called _abbati_. + + + + +TASSO AND CORNELIA + + +_Tasso._ She is dead, Cornelia! she is dead! + +_Cornelia._ Torquato! my Torquato! after so many years of separation +do I bend once more your beloved head to my embrace? + +_Tasso._ She is dead! + +_Cornelia._ Tenderest of brothers! bravest and best and most +unfortunate of men! What, in the name of heaven, so bewilders you? + +_Tasso._ Sister! sister! sister! I could not save her. + +_Cornelia._ Certainly it was a sad event; and they who are out of +spirits may be ready to take it for an evil omen. At this season of +the year the vintagers are joyous and negligent. + +_Tasso._ How! What is this? + +_Cornelia._ The little girl was crushed, they say, by a wheel of the +car laden with grapes, as she held out a handful of vine-leaves to one +of the oxen. And did you happen to be there at the moment? + +_Tasso._ So then the little too can suffer! the ignorant, the +indigent, the unaspiring! Poor child! She was kind-hearted, else never +would calamity have befallen her. + +_Cornelia._ I wish you had not seen the accident. + +_Tasso._ I see it? I? I saw it not. No other is crushed where I am. +The little girl died for her kindness! Natural death! + +_Cornelia._ Be calm, be composed, my brother! + +_Tasso._ You would not require me to be composed or calm if you +comprehended a thousandth part of my sufferings. + +_Cornelia._ Peace! peace! we know them all. + +_Tasso._ Who has dared to name them? Imprisonment, derision, madness. + +_Cornelia._ Hush! sweet Torquato! If ever these existed, they are +past. + +_Tasso._ You do think they are sufferings? ay? + +_Cornelia._ Too surely. + +_Tasso._ No, not too surely: I will not have that answer. They would +have been; but Leonora was then living. Unmanly as I am! did I +complain of them? and while she was left me? + +_Cornelia._ My own Torquato! is there no comfort in a sister's love? +Is there no happiness but under the passions? Think, O my brother, how +many courts there are in Italy: are the princes more fortunate than +you? Which among them all loves truly, deeply, and virtuously? Among +them all is there any one, for his genius, for his generosity, for his +gentleness, ay, for his mere humanity, worthy to be beloved? + +_Tasso._ Princes! talk to me of princes! How much cross-grained wood a +little gypsum covers! a little carmine quite beautifies! Wet your +forefinger with your spittle; stick a broken gold-leaf on the +sinciput; clip off a beggar's beard to make it tresses; kiss it; fall +down before it; worship it. Are you not irradiated by the light of its +countenance? Princes! princes! Italian princes! Estes! What matters +that costly carrion? Who thinks about it? [_After a pause._] She is +dead! She is dead! + +_Cornelia._ We have not heard it here. + +_Tasso._ At Sorrento you hear nothing but the light surges of the sea, +and the sweet sprinkles of the guitar. + +_Cornelia._ Suppose the worst to be true. + +_Tasso._ Always, always. + +_Cornelia._ If she ceases, as then perhaps she must, to love and to +lament you, think gratefully, contentedly, devoutly, that her arms had +clasped your neck before they were crossed upon her bosom, in that +long sleep which you have rendered placid, and from which your +harmonious voice shall once more awaken her. Yes, Torquato! her bosom +had throbbed to yours, often and often, before the organ peal shook +the fringes round the catafalque. Is not this much, from one so high, +so beautiful? + +_Tasso._ Much? yes; for abject me. But I did so love her! so love her! + +_Cornelia._ Ah! let the tears flow: she sends you that balm from +heaven. + +_Tasso._ So love her did poor Tasso! Else, O Cornelia, it had indeed +been much. I thought, in the simplicity of my heart, that God was as +great as an emperor, and could bestow and had bestowed on me as much +as the German had conferred or could confer on his vassal. No part of +my insanity was ever held in such ridicule as this. And yet the idea +cleaves to me strangely, and is liable to stick to my shroud. + +_Cornelia._ Woe betide the woman who bids you to forget that woman who +has loved you: she sins against her sex. Leonora was unblameable. +Never think ill of her for what you have suffered. + +_Tasso._ Think ill of her? I? I? I? No; those we love, we love for +everything; even for the pain they have given us. But she gave me +none; it was where she was not that pain was. + +_Cornelia._ Surely, if love and sorrow are destined for companionship, +there is no reason why the last comer of the two should supersede the +first. + +_Tasso._ Argue with me, and you drive me into darkness. I am easily +persuaded and led on while no reasons are thrown before me. With these +you have made my temples throb again. Just heaven! dost thou grant us +fairer fields, and wider, for the whirlwind to lay waste? Dost thou +build us up habitations above the street, above the palace, above the +citadel, for the plague to enter and carouse in? Has not my youth paid +its dues, paid its penalties? Cannot our griefs come first, while we +have strength to bear them? The fool! the fool! who thinks it a +misfortune that his love is unrequited. Happier young man! look at the +violets until thou drop asleep on them. Ah! but thou must awake! + +_Cornelia._ O heavens! what must you have suffered! for a man's heart +is sensitive in proportion to its greatness. + +_Tasso._ And a woman's? + +_Cornelia._ Alas! I know not; but I think it can be no other. Comfort +thee, comfort thee, dear Torquato! + +_Tasso._ Then do not rest thy face upon my arm; it so reminds me of +her. And thy tears too! they melt me into her grave. + +_Cornelia._ Hear you not her voice as it appeals to you, saying to +you, as the priests around have been saying to _her_, Blessed soul! +rest in peace? + +_Tasso._ I heard it not; and yet I am sure she said it. A thousand +times has she repeated it, laying her head on my heart to quiet it, +simple girl! She told it to rest in peace ... and she went from me! +Insatiable love! ever self-torturer, never self-destroyer! the world, +with all its weight of miseries, cannot crush thee, cannot keep thee +down. Generally men's tears, like the droppings of certain springs, +only harden and petrify what they fall on; but mine sank deep into a +tender heart, and were its very blood. Never will I believe she has +left me utterly. Oftentimes, and long before her departure, I fancied +we were in heaven together. I fancied it in the fields, in the +gardens, in the palace, in the prison. I fancied it in the broad +daylight, when my eyes were open, when blessed spirits drew around me +that golden circle which one only of earth's inhabitants could enter. +Oftentimes in my sleep also I fancied it; and sometimes in the +intermediate state, in that serenity which breathes about the +transported soul, enjoying its pure and perfect rest, a span below the +feet of the Immortal. + +_Cornelia._ She has not left you; do not disturb her peace by these +repinings. + +_Tasso._ She will bear with them. Thou knowest not what she was, +Cornelia; for I wrote to thee about her while she seemed but human. In +my hours of sadness, not only her beautiful form, but her very voice +bent over me. How girlish in the gracefulness of her lofty form! how +pliable in her majesty! what composure at my petulance and reproaches! +what pity in her reproofs! Like the air that angels breathe in the +metropolitan temple of the Christian world, her soul at every season +preserved one temperature. But it was when she could and did love me! +Unchanged must ever be the blessed one who has leaned in fond security +on the unchangeable. The purifying flame shoots upward, and is the +glory that encircles their brows when they meet above. + +_Cornelia._ Indulge in these delightful thoughts, my Torquato! and +believe that your love is and ought to be imperishable as your glory. +Generations of men move forward in endless procession to consecrate +and commemorate both. Colour-grinders and gilders, year after year, +are bargained with to refresh the crumbling monuments and tarnished +decorations of rude, unregarded royalty, and to fasten the nails that +cramp the crown upon its head. Meanwhile, in the laurels of my +Torquato there will always be one leaf above man's reach, above time's +wrath and injury, inscribed with the name of Leonora. + +_Tasso._ O Jerusalem! I have not then sung in vain the Holy Sepulchre. + +_Cornelia._ After such devotion of your genius, you have undergone too +many misfortunes. + +_Tasso._ Congratulate the man who has had many, and may have more. I +have had, I have, I can have, one only. + +_Cornelia._ Life runs not smoothly at all seasons, even with the +happiest; but after a long course, the rocks subside, the views widen, +and it flows on more equably at the end. + +_Tasso._ Have the stars smooth surfaces? No, no; but how they shine! + +_Cornelia._ Capable of thoughts so exalted, so far above the earth we +dwell on, why suffer any to depress and anguish you? + +_Tasso._ Cornelia, Cornelia! the mind has within its temples and +porticoes and palaces and towers: the mind has under it, ready for the +course, steeds brighter than the sun and stronger than the storm; and +beside them stand winged chariots, more in number than the Psalmist +hath attributed to the Almighty. The mind, I tell thee again, hath its +hundred gates, compared whereto the Theban are but willow wickets; and +all those hundred gates can genius throw open. But there are some that +groan heavily on their hinges, and the hand of God alone can close +them. + +_Cornelia._ Torquato has thrown open those of His holy temple; +Torquato hath stood, another angel, at His tomb; and am I the sister +of Torquato? Kiss me, my brother, and let my tears run only from my +pride and joy! Princes have bestowed knighthood on the worthy and +unworthy; thou hast called forth those princes from their ranks, +pushing back the arrogant and presumptuous of them like intrusive +varlets, and conferring on the bettermost crowns and robes, +imperishable and unfading. + +_Tasso._ I seem to live back into those days. I feel the helmet on my +head; I wave the standard over it: brave men smile upon me; beautiful +maidens pull them gently back by the scarf, and will not let them +break my slumber, nor undraw the curtain. Corneliolina!... + +_Cornelia._ Well, my dear brother! why do you stop so suddenly in the +midst of them? They are the pleasantest and best company, and they +make you look quite happy and joyous. + +_Tasso._ Corneliolina, dost thou remember Bergamo? What city was ever +so celebrated for honest and valiant men, in all classes, or for +beautiful girls! There is but one class of those: Beauty is above all +ranks; the true Madonna, the patroness and bestower of felicity, the +queen of heaven. + +_Cornelia._ Hush, Torquato, hush! talk not so. + +_Tasso._ What rivers, how sunshiny and revelling, are the Brembo and +the Serio! What a country the Valtellina! I went back to our father's +house, thinking to find thee again, my little sister; thinking to kick +away thy ball of yellow silk as thou wast stooping for it, to make +thee run after me and beat me. I woke early in the morning; thou wert +grown up and gone. Away to Sorrento: I knew the road: a few strides +brought me back: here I am. To-morrow, my Cornelia, we will walk +together, as we used to do, into the cool and quiet caves on the +shore; and we will catch the little breezes as they come in and go out +again on the backs of the jocund waves. + +_Cornelia._ We will indeed to-morrow; but before we set out we must +take a few hours' rest, that we may enjoy our ramble the better. + +_Tasso._ Our Sorrentines, I see, are grown rich and avaricious. They +have uprooted the old pomegranate hedges, and have built high walls to +prohibit the wayfarer from their vineyards. + +_Cornelia._ I have a basket of grapes for you in the book-room that +overlooks our garden. + +_Tasso._ Does the old twisted sage-tree grow still against the window? + +_Cornelia._ It harboured too many insects at last, and there was +always a nest of scorpions in the crevice. + +_Tasso._ Oh! what a prince of a sage-tree! And the well, too, with its +bucket of shining metal, large enough for the largest cocomero to cool +in it for dinner. + +_Cornelia._ The well, I assure you, is as cool as ever. + +_Tasso._ Delicious! delicious! And the stone-work round it, bearing no +other marks of waste than my pruning-hook and dagger left behind? + +_Cornelia._ None whatever. + +_Tasso._ White in that place no longer; there has been time enough for +it to become all of one colour: grey, mossy, half-decayed. + +_Cornelia._ No, no; not even the rope has wanted repair. + +_Tasso._ Who sings yonder? + +_Cornelia._ Enchanter! No sooner did you say the word cocomero than +here comes a boy carrying one upon his head. + +_Tasso._ Listen! listen! I have read in some book or other those +verses long ago. They are not unlike my _Aminta_. The very words! + +_Cornelia._ Purifier of love, and humanizer of ferocity, how many, my +Torquato, will your gentle thoughts make happy! + +_Tasso._ At this moment I almost think I am one among them.[10] + +_Cornelia._ Be quite persuaded of it. Come, brother, come with me. You +shall bathe your heated brow and weary limbs in the chamber of your +childhood. It is there we are always the most certain of repose. The +boy shall sing to you those sweet verses; and we will reward him with +a slice of his own fruit. + +_Tasso._ He deserves it; cut it thick. + +_Cornelia._ Come then, my truant! Come along, my sweet smiling +Torquato! + +_Tasso._ The passage is darker than ever. Is this the way to the +little court? Surely those are not the steps that lead down toward the +bath? Oh yes! we are right; I smell the lemon-blossoms. Beware of the +old wilding that bears them; it may catch your veil; it may scratch +your fingers! Pray, take care: it has many thorns about it. And now, +Leonora! you shall hear my last verses! Lean your ear a little toward +me; for I must repeat them softly under this low archway, else others +may hear them too. Ah! you press my hand once more. Drop it, drop it! +or the verses will sink into my breast again, and lie there silent! +Good girl! + + Many, well I know, there are + Ready in your joys to share, + And (I never blame it) you + Are almost as ready too. + But when comes the darker day, + And those friends have dropt away, + Which is there among them all + You should, if you could, recall? + One who wisely loves and well + Hears and shares the griefs you tell; + Him you ever call apart + When the springs o'erflow the heart; + For you know that he alone + Wishes they were _but_ his own. + Give, while these he may divide, + Smiles to all the world beside. + +_Cornelia._ We are now in the full light of the chamber; cannot you +remember it, having looked so intently all around? + +_Tasso._ O sister! I could have slept another hour. You thought I +wanted rest: why did you waken me so early? I could have slept another +hour or longer. What a dream! But I am calm and happy. + +_Cornelia._ May you never more be otherwise! Indeed, he cannot be +whose last verses are such as those. + +_Tasso._ Have you written any since that morning? + +_Cornelia._ What morning? + +_Tasso._ When you caught the swallow in my curtains, and trod upon my +knees in catching it, luckily with naked feet. The little girl of +thirteen laughed at the outcry of her brother Torquatino, and sang +without a blush her earliest lay. + +_Cornelia._ I do not recollect it. + +_Tasso._ I do. + + Rondinello! rondinello! + Tu sei nero, ma sei bello. + Cosa fa se tu sei nero? + Rondinello! sei il primiero + De' volanti, palpitanti, + (E vi sono quanti quanti!) + Mai tenuto a questo petto, + E percio sei il mio diletto.[11] + +_Cornelia._ Here is the cocomero; it cannot be more insipid. Try it. + +_Tasso._ Where is the boy who brought it? where is the boy who sang my +_Aminta_? Serve him first; give him largely. Cut deeper; the knife is +too short: deeper; mia brava Corneliolina! quite through all the red, +and into the middle of the seeds. Well done! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[10] The miseries of Tasso arose not only from the imagination and the +heart. In the metropolis of the Christian world, with many admirers +and many patrons, bishops, cardinals, princes, he was left destitute, +and almost famished. These are his own words: '_Appena_ in questo +stato ho comprato _due meloni_: e benche io sia stato _quasi sempre +infermo_, molte volte mi sono contentato del manzo: e la ministra di +latte o di zucca, _quando ho potuto averne_, mi e stata in vece di +delizie.' In another part he says that he was unable to pay the +carriage of a parcel. No wonder; if he had not wherewithal to buy +enough of zucca for a meal. Even had he been in health and appetite, +he might have satisfied his hunger with it for about five farthings, +and have left half for supper. And now a word on his insanity. Having +been so imprudent not only as to make it too evident in his poetry +that he was the lover of Leonora, but also to signify (not very +obscurely) that his love was returned, he much perplexed the Duke of +Ferrara, who, with great discretion, suggested to him the necessity of +feigning madness. The lady's honour required it from a brother; and a +true lover, to convince the world, would embrace the project with +alacrity. But there was no reason why the seclusion should be in a +dungeon, or why exercise and air should be interdicted. This cruelty, +and perhaps his uncertainty of Leonora's compassion, may well be +imagined to have produced at last the malady he had feigned. But did +Leonora love Tasso as a man would be loved? If we wish to do her +honour, let us hope it: for what greater glory can there be, than to +have estimated at the full value so exalted a genius, so affectionate +and so generous a heart! + +[11] The author wrote the verses first in English, but he found it +easy to write them better in Italian: they stood in the text as below: +they only do for a girl of thirteen: + + 'Swallow! swallow! though so jetty + Are your pinions, you are pretty: + And what matter were it though + You were blacker than a crow? + Of the many birds that fly + (And how many pass me by!) + You 're the first I ever prest, + Of the many, to my breast: + Therefore it is very right + You should be my own delight.' + + + + +LA FONTAINE AND DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULT + + +_La Fontaine._ I am truly sensible of the honour I receive, M. de la +Rochefoucault, in a visit from a personage so distinguished by his +birth and by his genius. Pardon my ambition, if I confess to you that +I have long and ardently wished for the good fortune, which I never +could promise myself, of knowing you personally. + +_Rochefoucault._ My dear M. de la Fontaine! + +_La Fontaine._ Not '_de_ la', not '_de_ la'. I am _La_ Fontaine, +purely and simply. + +_Rochefoucault._ The whole; not derivative. You appear, in the midst +of your purity, to have been educated at court, in the lap of the +ladies. What was the last day (pardon!) I had the misfortune to miss +you there? + +_La Fontaine._ I never go to court. They say one cannot go without +silk stockings; and I have only thread: plenty of them indeed, thank +God! Yet, would you believe it? Nanon, in putting a _solette_ to the +bottom of one, last week, sewed it so carelessly, she made a kind of +cord across: and I verily believe it will lame me for life; for I +walked the whole morning upon it. + +_Rochefoucault._ She ought to be whipped. + +_La Fontaine._ I thought so too, and grew the warmer at being unable +to find a wisp of osier or a roll of packthread in the house. Barely +had I begun with my garter, when in came the Bishop of Grasse, my old +friend Godeau, and another lord, whose name he mentioned, and they +both interceded for her so long and so touchingly, that at last I was +fain to let her rise up and go. I never saw men look down on the +erring and afflicted more compassionately. The bishop was quite +concerned for me also. But the other, although he professed to feel +even more, and said that it must surely be the pain of purgatory to +me, took a pinch of snuff, opened his waistcoat, drew down his +ruffles, and seemed rather more indifferent. + +_Rochefoucault._ Providentially, in such moving scenes, the worst is +soon over. But Godeau's friend was not too sensitive. + +_La Fontaine._ Sensitive! no more than if he had been educated at the +butcher's or the Sorbonne. + +_Rochefoucault._ I am afraid there are as many hard hearts under satin +waistcoats as there are ugly visages under the same material in +miniature cases. + +_La Fontaine._ My lord, I could show you a miniature case which +contains your humble servant, in which the painter has done what no +tailor in his senses would do; he has given me credit for a coat of +violet silk, with silver frogs as large as tortoises. But I am loath +to get up for it while the generous heart of this dog (if I mentioned +his name he would jump up) places such confidence on my knee. + +_Rochefoucault._ Pray do not move on any account; above all, lest you +should disturb that amiable grey cat, fast asleep in his innocence on +your shoulder. + +_La Fontaine._ Ah, rogue! art thou there? Why! thou hast not licked my +face this half-hour. + +_Rochefoucault._ And more, too, I should imagine. I do not judge from +his somnolency, which, if he were President of the Parliament, could +not be graver, but from his natural sagacity. Cats weigh +practicabilities. What sort of tongue has he? + +_La Fontaine._ He has the roughest tongue and the tenderest heart of +any cat in Paris. If you observe the colour of his coat, it is rather +blue than grey; a certain indication of goodness in these +contemplative creatures. + +_Rochefoucault._ We were talking of his tongue alone; by which cats, +like men, are flatterers. + +_La Fontaine._ Ah! you gentlemen of the court are much mistaken in +thinking that vices have so extensive a range. There are some of our +vices, like some of our diseases, from which the quadrupeds are +exempt; and those, both diseases and vices, are the most +discreditable. + +_Rochefoucault._ I do not bear patiently any evil spoken of the court: +for it must be acknowledged, by the most malicious, that the court is +the purifier of the whole nation. + +_La Fontaine._ I know little of the court, and less of the whole +nation; but how can this be? + +_Rochefoucault._ It collects all ramblers and gamblers; all the +market-men and market-women who deal in articles which God has thrown +into their baskets, without any trouble on their part; all the +seducers and all who wish to be seduced; all the duellists who erase +their crimes with their swords, and sweat out their cowardice with +daily practice; all the nobles whose patents of nobility lie in gold +snuff-boxes, or have worn Mechlin ruffles, or are deposited within the +archives of knee-deep waistcoats; all stock-jobbers and +church-jobbers, the black-legged and the red-legged game, the flower +of the _justaucorps_, the _robe_, and the _soutane_. If these were +spread over the surface of France, instead of close compressure in the +court or cabinet, they would corrupt the whole country in two years. +As matters now stand, it will require a quarter of a century to effect +it. + +_La Fontaine._ Am I not right then in preferring my beasts to yours? +But if yours were loose, mine (as you prove to me) would be the last +to suffer by it, poor dear creatures! Speaking of cats, I would have +avoided all personality that might be offensive to them: I would not +exactly have said, in so many words, that, by their tongues, they are +flatterers, like men. Language may take a turn advantageously in +favour of our friends. True, we resemble all animals in something. I +am quite ashamed and mortified that your lordship, or anybody, should +have had the start of me in this reflection. When a cat flatters with +his tongue he is not insincere: you may safely take it for a real +kindness. He is loyal, M. de la Rochefoucault! my word for him, he is +loyal. Observe too, if you please, no cat ever licks you when he wants +anything from you; so that there is nothing of baseness in such an act +of adulation, if we must call it so. For my part, I am slow to +designate by so foul a name, that (be it what it may) which is +subsequent to a kindness. Cats ask plainly for what they want. + +_Rochefoucault._ And, if they cannot get it by protocols they get it +by invasion and assault. + +_La Fontaine._ No! no! usually they go elsewhere, and fondle those +from whom they obtain it. In this I see no resemblance to invaders and +conquerors. I draw no parallels: I would excite no heart-burnings +between us and them. Let all have their due. + +I do not like to lift this creature off, for it would waken him, else +I could find out, by some subsequent action, the reason why he has not +been on the alert to lick my cheek for so long a time. + +_Rochefoucault._ Cats are wary and provident. He would not enter into +any contest with you, however friendly. He only licks your face, I +presume, while your beard is but a match for his tongue. + +_La Fontaine._ Ha! you remind me. Indeed I did begin to think my beard +was rather of the roughest; for yesterday Madame de Rambouillet sent +me a plate of strawberries, the first of the season, and raised (would +you believe it?) under glass. One of these strawberries was dropping +from my lips, and I attempted to stop it. When I thought it had fallen +to the ground, 'Look for it, Nanon; pick it up and eat it,' said I. + +'Master!' cried the wench, 'your beard has skewered and spitted it.' +'Honest girl,' I answered, 'come, cull it from the bed of its +adoption.' + +I had resolved to shave myself this morning: but our wisest and best +resolutions too often come to nothing, poor mortals! + +_Rochefoucault._ We often do very well everything but the only thing +we hope to do best of all; and our projects often drop from us by +their weight. A little while ago your friend Moliere exhibited a +remarkable proof of it. + +_La Fontaine._ Ah, poor Moliere! the best man in the world; but +flighty, negligent, thoughtless. He throws himself into other men, and +does not remember where. The sight of an eagle, M. de la +Rochefoucault, but the memory of a fly. + +_Rochefoucault_. I will give you an example: but perhaps it is already +known to you. + +_La Fontaine._ Likely enough. We have each so many friends, neither of +us can trip but the other is invited to the laugh. Well; I am sure he +has no malice, and I hope I have none: but who can see his own faults? + +_Rochefoucault._ He had brought out a new edition of his comedies. + +_La Fontaine._ There will be fifty; there will be a hundred: nothing +in our language, or in any, is so delightful, so graceful; I will add, +so clear at once and so profound. + +_Rochefoucault._ You are among the few who, seeing well his other +qualities, see that Moliere is also profound. In order to present the +new edition to the dauphin, he had put on a sky-blue velvet coat, +powdered with fleurs-de-lis. He laid the volume on his library table; +and, resolving that none of the courtiers should have an opportunity +of ridiculing him for anything like absence of mind, he returned to +his bedroom, which, as may often be the case in the economy of poets, +is also his dressing-room. Here he surveyed himself in his mirror, as +well as the creeks and lagoons in it would permit. + +_La Fontaine._ I do assure you, from my own observation, M. de la +Rochefoucault, that his mirror is a splendid one. I should take it to +be nearly three feet high, reckoning the frame, with the Cupid above +and the elephant under. I suspected it was the present of some great +lady; and indeed I have since heard as much. + +_Rochefoucault._ Perhaps then the whole story may be quite as fabulous +as the part of it which I have been relating. + +_La Fontaine._ In that case, I may be able to set you right again. + +_Rochefoucault._ He found his peruke a model of perfection; tight, yet +easy; not an inch more on one side than on the other. The black patch +on the forehead.... + +_La Fontaine._ Black patch too! I would have given a fifteen-sous +piece to have caught him with that black patch. + +_Rochefoucault._ He found it lovely, marvellous, irresistible. Those +on each cheek.... + +_La Fontaine._ Do you tell me he had one on each cheek? + +_Rochefoucault._ Symmetrically. The cravat was of its proper descent, +and with its appropriate charge of the best Strasburg snuff upon it. +The waistcoat, for a moment, puzzled and perplexed him. He was not +quite sure whether the right number of buttons were in their holes; +nor how many above, nor how many below, it was the fashion of the week +to leave without occupation. Such a piece of ignorance is enough to +disgrace any courtier on earth. He was in the act of striking his +forehead with desperation; but he thought of the patch, fell on his +knees, and thanked Heaven for the intervention. + +_La Fontaine._ Just like him! just like him! good soul! + +_Rochefoucault._ The breeches ... ah! those require attention: all +proper: everything in its place. Magnificent. The stockings rolled up, +neither too loosely nor too negligently. A picture! The buckles in the +shoes ... all but one ... soon set to rights ... well thought of! And +now the sword ... ah, that cursed sword! it will bring at least one +man to the ground if it has its own way much longer ... up with it! up +with it higher.... _Allons!_ we are out of danger. + +_La Fontaine._ Delightful! I have him before my eyes. What simplicity! +aye, what simplicity! + +_Rochefoucault._ Now for hat. Feather in? Five at least. Bravo! + +He took up hat and plumage, extended his arm to the full length, +raised it a foot above his head, lowered it thereon, opened his +fingers, and let them fall again at his side. + +_La Fontaine._ Something of the comedian in that; aye, M. de la +Rochefoucault? But, on the stage or off, all is natural in Moliere. + +_Rochefoucault._ Away he went: he reached the palace, stood before the +dauphin.... O consternation! O despair! 'Morbleu! bete que je suis,' +exclaimed the hapless man, 'le livre, ou donc est-il?' You are +forcibly struck, I perceive, by this adventure of your friend. + +_La Fontaine._ Strange coincidence! quite unaccountable! There are +agents at work in our dreams, M. de la Rochefoucault, which we shall +never see out of them, on this side the grave. [_To himself._] +Sky-blue? no. Fleurs-de-lis? bah! bah! Patches? I never wore one in my +life. + +_Rochefoucault._ It well becomes your character for generosity, M. La +Fontaine, to look grave, and ponder, and ejaculate, on a friend's +untoward accident, instead of laughing, as those who little know you, +might expect. I beg your pardon for relating the occurrence. + +_La Fontaine._ Right or wrong, I cannot help laughing any longer. +Comical, by my faith! above the tiptop of comedy. Excuse my flashes +and dashes and rushes of merriment. Incontrollable! incontrollable! +Indeed the laughter is immoderate. And you all the while are sitting +as grave as a judge; I mean a criminal one; who has nothing to do but +to keep up his popularity by sending his rogues to the gallows. The +civil indeed have much weighty matter on their minds: they must +displease one party: and sometimes a doubt arises whether the fairer +hand or the fuller shall turn the balance. + +_Rochefoucault._ I congratulate you on the return of your gravity and +composure. + +_La Fontaine._ Seriously now: all my lifetime I have been the +plaything of dreams. Sometimes they have taken such possession of me, +that nobody could persuade me afterward they were other than real +events. Some are very oppressive, very painful, M. de la +Rochefoucault! I have never been able, altogether, to disembarrass my +head of the most wonderful vision that ever took possession of any +man's. There are some truly important differences, but in many +respects this laughable adventure of my innocent, honest friend +Moliere seemed to have befallen myself. I can only account for it by +having heard the tale when I was half asleep. + +_Rochefoucault._ Nothing more probable. + +_La Fontaine._ You absolutely have relieved me from an incubus. + +_Rochefoucault._ I do not yet see how. + +_La Fontaine._ No longer ago than when you entered this chamber, I +would have sworn that I myself had gone to the Louvre, that I myself +had been commanded to attend the dauphin, that I myself had come into +his presence, had fallen on my knee, and cried, 'Peste! ou est donc le +livre?' Ah, M. de la Rochefoucault, permit me to embrace you: this is +really to find a friend at court. + +_Rochefoucault._ My visit is even more auspicious than I could have +ventured to expect: it was chiefly for the purpose of asking your +permission to make another at my return to Paris.... I am forced to go +into the country on some family affairs: but hearing that you have +spoken favourably of my _Maxims_, I presume to express my satisfaction +and delight at your good opinion. + +_La Fontaine._ Pray, M. de la Rochefoucault, do me the favour to +continue here a few minutes. I would gladly reason with you on some of +your doctrines. + +_Rochefoucault._ For the pleasure of hearing your sentiments on the +topics I have treated, I will, although it is late, steal a few +minutes from the court, of which I must take my leave on parting for +the province. + +_La Fontaine._ Are you quite certain that all your _Maxims_ are true, +or, what is of greater consequence, that they are all original? I have +lately read a treatise written by an Englishman, Mr. Hobbes; so loyal +a man that, while others tell you kings are appointed by God, he tells +you God is appointed by kings. + +_Rochefoucault._ Ah! such are precisely the men we want. If he +establishes this verity, the rest will follow. + +_La Fontaine._ He does not seem to care so much about the rest. In his +treatise I find the ground-plan of your chief positions. + +_Rochefoucault._ I have indeed looked over his publication; and we +agree on the natural depravity of man. + +_La Fontaine._ Reconsider your expression. It appears to me that what +is natural is not depraved: that depravity is deflection from nature. +Let it pass: I cannot, however, concede to you that the generality of +men are bad. Badness is accidental, like disease. We find more +tempers good than bad, where proper care is taken in proper time. + +_Rochefoucault._ Care is not nature. + +_La Fontaine._ Nature is soon inoperative without it; so soon indeed +as to allow no opportunity for experiment or hypothesis. Life itself +requires care, and more continually than tempers and morals do. The +strongest body ceases to be a body in a few days without a supply of +food. When we speak of men being naturally bad or good, we mean +susceptible and retentive and communicative of them. In this case (and +there can be no other true or ostensible one) I believe that the more +are good; and nearly in the same proportion as there are animals and +plants produced healthy and vigorous than wayward and weakly. Strange +is the opinion of Mr. Hobbes, that, when God hath poured so abundantly +His benefits on other creatures, the only one capable of great good +should be uniformly disposed to greater evil. + +_Rochefoucault._ Yet Holy Writ, to which Hobbes would reluctantly +appeal, countenances the supposition. + +_La Fontaine._ The Jews, above all nations, were morose and splenetic. +Nothing is holy to me that lessens in my view the beneficence of my +Creator. If you could show Him ungentle and unkind in a single +instance, you would render myriads of men so, throughout the whole +course of their lives, and those too among the most religious. The +less that people talk about God the better. He has left us a design to +fill up: He has placed the canvas, the colours, and the pencils, +within reach; His directing hand is over ours incessantly; it is our +business to follow it, and neither to turn round and argue with our +Master, nor to kiss and fondle Him. We must mind our lesson, and not +neglect our time: for the room is closed early, and the lights are +suspended in another, where no one works. If every man would do all +the good he might within an hour's walk from his house, he would live +the happier and the longer: for nothing is so conducive to longevity +as the union of activity and content. But, like children, we deviate +from the road, however well we know it, and run into mire and puddles +in despite of frown and ferule. + +_Rochefoucault._ Go on, M. La Fontaine! pray go on. We are walking in +the same labyrinth, always within call, always within sight of each +other. We set out at its two extremities, and shall meet at last. + +_La Fontaine._ I doubt it. From deficiency of care proceed many +vices, both in men and children, and more still from care taken +improperly. Mr. Hobbes attributes not only the order and peace of +society, but equity and moderation and every other virtue, to the +coercion and restriction of the laws. The laws, as now constituted, do +a great deal of good; they also do a great deal of mischief. They +transfer more property from the right owner in six months than all the +thieves of the kingdom do in twelve. What the thieves take they soon +disseminate abroad again; what the laws take they hoard. The thief +takes a part of your property: he who prosecutes the thief for you +takes another part: he who condemns the thief goes to the tax-gatherer +and takes the third. Power has been hitherto occupied in no employment +but in keeping down Wisdom. Perhaps the time may come when Wisdom +shall exert her energy in repressing the sallies of Power. + +_Rochefoucault._ I think it more probable that they will agree; that +they will call together their servants of all liveries, to collect +what they can lay their hands upon; and that meanwhile they will sit +together like good housewives, making nets from our purses to cover +the coop for us. If you would be plump and in feather, pick up your +millet and be quiet in your darkness. Speculate on nothing here below, +and I promise you a nosegay in Paradise. + +_La Fontaine._ Believe me, I shall be most happy to receive it there +at your hands, my lord duke. + +The greater number of men, I am inclined to think, with all the +defects of education, all the frauds committed on their credulity, all +the advantages taken of their ignorance and supineness, are disposed, +on most occasions, rather to virtue than to vice, rather to the kindly +affections than the unkindly, rather to the social than the selfish. + +_Rochefoucault._ Here we differ: and were my opinion the same as +yours, my book would be little read and less commended. + +_La Fontaine._ Why think so? + +_Rochefoucault._ For this reason. Every man likes to hear evil of all +men: every man is delighted to take the air of the common, though not +a soul will consent to stand within his own allotment. No enclosure +act! no finger-posts! You may call every creature under heaven fool +and rogue, and your auditor will join with you heartily: hint to him +the slightest of his own defects or foibles, and he draws the rapier. +You and he are the judges of the world, but not its denizens. + +_La Fontaine._ Mr. Hobbes has taken advantage of these weaknesses. In +his dissertation he betrays the timidity and malice of his character. +It must be granted he reasons well, according to the view he has taken +of things; but he has given no proof whatever that his view is a +correct one. I will believe that it is, when I am persuaded that +sickness is the natural state of the body, and health the unnatural. +If you call him a sound philosopher, you may call a mummy a sound man. +Its darkness, its hardness, its forced uprightness, and the place in +which you find it, may commend it to you; give me rather some weakness +and peccability, with vital warmth and human sympathies. A shrewd +reasoner in one thing, a sound philosopher is another. I admire your +power and precision. Monks will admonish us how little the author of +the _Maxims_ knows of the world; and heads of colleges will cry out 'a +libel on human nature!' but when they hear your titles, and, above +all, your credit at court, they will cast back cowl, and peruke, and +lick your boots. You start with great advantages. Throwing off from a +dukedom, you are sure of enjoying, if not the tongue of these +puzzlers, the full cry of the more animating, and will certainly be as +long-lived as the imperfection of our language will allow. I consider +your _Maxims_ as a broken ridge of hills, on the shady side of which +you are fondest of taking your exercise: but the same ridge hath also +a sunny one. You attribute (let me say it again) all actions to +self-interest. Now, a sentiment of interest must be preceded by +calculation, long or brief, right or erroneous. Tell me then in what +region lies the origin of that pleasure which a family in the country +feels on the arrival of an unexpected friend. I say a family in the +country; because the sweetest souls, like the sweetest flowers, soon +canker in cities, and no purity is rarer there than the purity of +delight. If I may judge from the few examples I have been in a +position to see, no earthly one can be greater. There are pleasures +which lie near the surface, and which are blocked up by artificial +ones, or are diverted by some mechanical scheme, or are confined by +some stiff evergreen vista of low advantage. But these pleasures do +occasionally burst forth in all their brightness; and, if ever you +shall by chance find one of them, you will sit by it, I hope, +complacently and cheerfully, and turn toward it the kindliest aspect +of your meditations. + +_Rochefoucault._ Many, indeed most people, will differ from me. +Nothing is quite the same to the intellect of any two men, much less +of all. When one says to another, 'I am entirely of your opinion,' he +uses in general an easy and indifferent phrase, believing in its +accuracy, without examination, without thought. The nearest +resemblance in opinions, if we could trace every line of it, would be +found greatly more divergent than the nearest in the human form or +countenance, and in the same proportion as the varieties of mental +qualities are more numerous and fine than of the bodily. Hence I do +not expect nor wish that my opinions should in all cases be similar to +those of others: but in many I shall be gratified if, by just degrees +and after a long survey, those of others approximate to mine. Nor does +this my sentiment spring from a love of power, as in many good men +quite unconsciously, when they would make proselytes, since I shall +see few and converse with fewer of them, and profit in no way by their +adherence and favour; but it springs from a natural and a cultivated +love of all truths whatever, and from a certainty that these delivered +by me are conducive to the happiness and dignity of man. You shake +your head. + +_La Fontaine._ Make it out. + +_Rochefoucault._ I have pointed out to him at what passes he hath +deviated from his true interest, and where he hath mistaken +selfishness for generosity, coldness for judgment, contraction of +heart for policy, rank for merit, pomp for dignity; of all mistakes, +the commonest and the greatest. I am accused of paradox and +distortion. On paradox I shall only say, that every new moral truth +has been called so. Inexperienced and negligent observers see no +difference in the operations of ravelling and unravelling: they never +come close enough: they despise plain work. + +_La Fontaine._ The more we simplify things, the better we descry their +substances and qualities. A good writer will not coil them up and +press them into the narrowest possible space, nor macerate them into +such particles that nothing shall be remaining of their natural +contexture. You are accused of this too, by such as have forgotten +your title-page, and who look for treatises where maxims only have +been promised. Some of them perhaps are spinning out sermons and +dissertations from the poorest paragraph in the volume. + +_Rochefoucault._ Let them copy and write as they please; against or +for, modestly or impudently. I have hitherto had no assailant who is +not of too slender a make to be detained an hour in the stocks he had +unwarily put his foot into. If you hear of any, do not tell of them. +On the subjects of my remarks, had others thought as I do, my labour +would have been spared me. I am ready to point out the road where I +know it, to whosoever wants it; but I walk side by side with few or +none. + +_La Fontaine._ We usually like those roads which show us the fronts of +our friends' houses and the pleasure-grounds about them, and the +smooth garden-walks, and the trim espaliers, and look at them with +more satisfaction than at the docks and nettles that are thrown in +heaps behind. The _Offices_ of Cicero are imperfect; yet who would not +rather guide his children by them than by the line and compass of +harder-handed guides; such as Hobbes for instance? + +_Rochefoucault._ Imperfect as some gentlemen in hoods may call the +_Offices_, no founder of a philosophical or of a religious sect has +been able to add to them anything important. + +_La Fontaine._ Pity! that Cicero carried with him no better +authorities than reason and humanity. He neither could work miracles, +nor damn you for disbelieving them. Had he lived fourscore years +later, who knows but he might have been another Simon Peter, and have +talked Hebrew as fluently as Latin, all at once! Who knows but we +might have heard of his patrimony! who knows but our venerable popes +might have claimed dominion from him, as descendant from the kings of +Rome! + +_Rochefoucault._ The hint, some centuries ago, would have made your +fortune, and that saintly cat there would have kittened in a mitre. + +_La Fontaine._ Alas! the hint could have done nothing: Cicero could +not have lived later. + +_Rochefoucault._ I warrant him. Nothing is easier to correct than +chronology. There is not a lady in Paris, nor a jockey in Normandy, +that is not eligible to a professor's chair in it. I have seen a man's +ancestor, whom nobody ever saw before, spring back over twenty +generations. Our Vatican Jupiters have as little respect for old +Chronos as the Cretan had: they mutilate him when and where they think +necessary, limp as he may by the operation. + +_La Fontaine._ When I think, as you make me do, how ambitious men are, +even those whose teeth are too loose (one would fancy) for a bite at +so hard an apple as the devil of ambition offers them, I am inclined +to believe that we are actuated not so much by selfishness as you +represent it, but under another form, the love of power. Not to speak +of territorial dominion or political office, and such other things as +we usually class under its appurtenances, do we not desire an +exclusive control over what is beautiful and lovely? the possession +of pleasant fields, of well-situated houses, of cabinets, of images, +of pictures, and indeed of many things pleasant to see but useless to +possess; even of rocks, of streams, and of fountains? These things, +you will tell me, have their utility. True, but not to the wisher, nor +does the idea of it enter his mind. Do not we wish that the object of +our love should be devoted to us only; and that our children should +love us better than their brothers and sisters, or even than the +mother who bore them? Love would be arrayed in the purple robe of +sovereignty, mildly as he may resolve to exercise his power. + +_Rochefoucault._ Many things which appear to be incontrovertible are +such for their age only, and must yield to others which, in their age, +are equally so. There are only a few points that are always above the +waves. Plain truths, like plain dishes, are commended by everybody, +and everybody leaves them whole. If it were not even more impertinent +and presumptuous to praise a great writer in his presence than to +censure him in his absence, I would venture to say that your prose, +from the few specimens you have given of it, is equal to your verse. +Yet, even were I the possessor of such a style as yours, I would never +employ it to support my _Maxims_. You would think a writer very +impudent and self-sufficient who should quote his own works: to defend +them is doing more. We are the worst auxiliaries in the world to the +opinions we have brought into the field. Our business is, to measure +the ground, and to calculate the forces; then let them try their +strength. If the weak assails me, he thinks me weak; if the strong, he +thinks me strong. He is more likely to compute ill his own vigour than +mine. At all events, I love inquiry, even when I myself sit down. And +I am not offended in my walks if my visitor asks me whither does that +alley lead. It proves that he is ready to go on with me; that he sees +some space before him; and that he believes there may be something +worth looking after. + +_La Fontaine._ You have been standing a long time, my lord duke: I +must entreat you to be seated. + +_Rochefoucault._ Excuse me, my dear M. la Fontaine; I would much +rather stand. + +_La Fontaine._ Mercy on us! have you been upon your legs ever since +you rose to leave me? + +_Rochefoucault._ A change of position is agreeable: a friend always +permits it. + +_La Fontaine._ Sad doings! sad oversight! The other two chairs were +sent yesterday evening to be scoured and mended. But that dog is the +best tempered dog! an angel of a dog, I do assure you; he would have +gone down in a moment, at a word. I am quite ashamed of myself for +such inattention. With your sentiments of friendship for me, why could +you not have taken the liberty to shove him gently off, rather than +give me this uneasiness? + +_Rochefoucault._ My true and kind friend! we authors are too +sedentary; we are heartily glad of standing to converse, whenever we +can do it without any restraint on our acquaintance. + +_La Fontaine._ I must reprove that animal when he uncurls his body. He +seems to be dreaming of Paradise and houris. Ay, twitch thy ear, my +child! I wish at my heart there were as troublesome a fly about the +other: God forgive me! The rogue covers all my clean linen! shirt and +cravat! what cares he! + +_Rochefoucault._ Dogs are not very modest. + +_La Fontaine._ Never say that, M. de la Rochefoucault! The most modest +people upon earth! Look at a dog's eyes, and he half closes them, or +gently turns them away, with a motion of the lips, which he licks +languidly, and of the tail, which he stirs tremulously, begging your +forbearance. I am neither blind nor indifferent to the defects of +these good and generous creatures. They are subject to many such as +men are subject to: among the rest, they disturb the neighbourhood in +the discussion of their private causes; they quarrel and fight on +small motives, such as a little bad food, or a little vainglory, or +the sex. But it must be something present or near that excites them; +and they calculate not the extent of evil they may do or suffer. + +_Rochefoucault._ Certainly not: how should dogs calculate? + +_La Fontaine._ I know nothing of the process. I am unable to inform +you how they leap over hedges and brooks, with exertion just +sufficient, and no more. In regard to honour and a sense of dignity, +let me tell you, a dog accepts the subsidies of his friends, but never +claims them: a dog would not take the field to obtain power for a son, +but would leave the son to obtain it by his own activity and prowess. +He conducts his visitor or inmate out a-hunting, and makes a present +of the game to him as freely as an emperor to an elector. Fond as he +is of slumber, which is indeed one of the pleasantest and best things +in the universe, particularly after dinner, he shakes it off as +willingly as he would a gadfly, in order to defend his master from +theft or violence. Let the robber or assailant speak as courteously +as he may, he waives your diplomatical terms, gives his reasons in +plain language, and makes war. I could say many other things to his +advantage; but I never was malicious, and would rather let both +parties plead for themselves; give me the dog, however. + +_Rochefoucault._ Faith! I will give you both, and never boast of my +largess in so doing. + +_La Fontaine._ I trust I have removed from you the suspicion of +selfishness in my client, and I feel it quite as easy to make a +properer disposal of another ill attribute, namely cruelty, which we +vainly try to shuffle off our own shoulders upon others, by employing +the offensive and most unjust term, brutality. But to convince you of +my impartiality, now I have defended the dog from the first obloquy, I +will defend the man from the last, hoping to make you think better of +each. What you attribute to cruelty, both while we are children and +afterward, may be assigned, for the greater part, to curiosity. +Cruelty tends to the extinction of life, the dissolution of matter, +the imprisonment and sepulture of truth; and if it were our ruling and +chief propensity, the human race would have been extinguished in a few +centuries after its appearance. Curiosity, in its primary sense, +implies care and consideration. + +_Rochefoucault._ Words often deflect from their primary sense. We find +the most curious men the most idle and silly, the least observant and +conservative. + +_La Fontaine._ So we think; because we see every hour the idly +curious, and not the strenuously; we see only the persons of the one +set, and only the works of the other. + +More is heard of cruelty than of curiosity, because while curiosity is +silent both in itself and about its object, cruelty on most occasions +is like the wind, boisterous in itself, and exciting a murmur and +bustle in all the things it moves among. Added to which, many of the +higher topics whereto our curiosity would turn, are intercepted from +it by the policy of our guides and rulers; while the principal ones on +which cruelty is most active, are pointed to by the sceptre and the +truncheon, and wealth and dignity are the rewards of their attainment. +What perversion! He who brings a bullock into a city for its +sustenance is called a butcher, and nobody has the civility to take +off the hat to him, although knowing him as perfectly as I know +Matthieu le Mince, who served me with those fine kidneys you must have +remarked in passing through the kitchen: on the contrary, he who +reduces the same city to famine is styled M. le General or M. le +Marechal, and gentlemen like you, unprejudiced (as one would think) +and upright, make room for him in the antechamber. + +_Rochefoucault._ He obeys orders without the degrading influence of +any passion. + +_La Fontaine._ Then he commits a baseness the more, a cruelty the +greater. He goes off at another man's setting, as ingloriously as a +rat-trap: he produces the worst effects of fury, and feels none: a +Cain unirritated by a brother's incense. + +_Rochefoucault._ I would hide from you this little rapier, which, like +the barber's pole, I have often thought too obtrusive in the streets. + +_La Fontaine._ Never shall I think my countrymen half civilized while +on the dress of a courtier is hung the instrument of a cut-throat. How +deplorably feeble must be that honour which requires defending at +every hour of the day! + +_Rochefoucault._ Ingenious as you are, M. La Fontaine, I do not +believe that, on this subject, you could add anything to what you have +spoken already; but really, I do think one of the most instructive +things in the world would be a dissertation on dress by you. + +_La Fontaine._ Nothing can be devised more commodious than the dress +in fashion. Perukes have fallen among us by the peculiar dispensation +of Providence. As in all the regions of the globe the indigenous have +given way to stronger creatures, so have they (partly at least) on the +human head. At present the wren and the squirrel are dominant there. +Whenever I have a mind for a filbert, I have only to shake my foretop. +Improvement does not end in that quarter. I might forget to take my +pinch of snuff when it would do me good, unless I saw a store of it on +another's cravat. Furthermore, the slit in the coat behind tells in a +moment what it was made for: a thing of which, in regard to ourselves, +the best preachers have to remind us all our lives: then the central +part of our habiliment has either its loop-hole or its portcullis in +the opposite direction, still more demonstrative. All these are for +very mundane purposes: but Religion and Humanity have whispered some +later utilities. We pray the more commodiously, and of course the more +frequently, for rolling up a royal ell of stocking round about our +knees: and our high-heeled shoes must surely have been worn by some +angel, to save those insects which the flat-footed would have crushed +to death. + +_Rochefoucault._ Ah! the good dog has awakened: he saw me and my +rapier, and ran away. Of what breed is he? for I know nothing of dogs. + +_La Fontaine._ And write so well! + +_Rochefoucault._ Is he a truffler? + +_La Fontaine._ No, not he; but quite as innocent. + +_Rochefoucault._ Something of the shepherd-dog, I suspect. + +_La Fontaine._ Nor that neither; although he fain would make you +believe it. Indeed he is very like one: pointed nose, pointed ears, +apparently stiff, but readily yielding; long hair, particularly about +the neck; noble tail over his back, three curls deep, exceedingly +pleasant to stroke down again; straw-colour all above, white all +below. He might take it ill if you looked for it; but so it is, upon +my word: an ermeline might envy it. + +_Rochefoucault._ What are his pursuits? + +_La Fontaine._ As to pursuit and occupation, he is good for nothing. +In fact, I like those dogs best ... and those men too. + +_Rochefoucault._ Send Nanon then for a pair of silk stockings, and +mount my carriage with me: it stops at the Louvre. + + + + +LUCIAN AND TIMOTHEUS + + +_Timotheus._ I am delighted, my Cousin Lucian, to observe how popular +are become your _Dialogues of the Dead_. Nothing can be so gratifying +and satisfactory to a rightly disposed mind, as the subversion of +imposture by the force of ridicule. It hath scattered the crowd of +heathen gods as if a thunderbolt had fallen in the midst of them. Now, +I am confident you never would have assailed the false religion, +unless you were prepared for the reception of the true. For it hath +always been an indication of rashness and precipitancy, to throw down +an edifice before you have collected materials for reconstruction. + +_Lucian._ Of all metaphors and remarks, I believe this of yours, my +good cousin Timotheus, is the most trite, and pardon me if I add, the +most untrue. Surely we ought to remove an error the instant we detect +it, although it may be out of our competence to state and establish +what is right. A lie should be exposed as soon as born: we are not to +wait until a healthier child is begotten. Whatever is evil in any way +should be abolished. The husbandman never hesitates to eradicate +weeds, or to burn them up, because he may not happen at the time to +carry a sack on his shoulder with wheat or barley in it. Even if no +wheat or barley is to be sown in future, the weeding and burning are +in themselves beneficial, and something better will spring up. + +_Timotheus._ That is not so certain. + +_Lucian._ Doubt it as you may, at least you will allow that the +temporary absence of evil is an advantage. + +_Timotheus._ I think, O Lucian, you would reason much better if you +would come over to our belief. + +_Lucian._ I was unaware that belief is an encourager and guide to +reason. + +_Timotheus._ Depend upon it, there can be no stability of truth, no +elevation of genius, without an unwavering faith in our holy +mysteries. Babes and sucklings who are blest with it, stand higher, +intellectually as well as morally, than stiff unbelievers and proud +sceptics. + +_Lucian._ I do not wonder that so many are firm holders of this novel +doctrine. It is pleasant to grow wise and virtuous at so small an +expenditure of thought or time. This saying of yours is exactly what I +heard spoken with angry gravity not long ago. + +_Timotheus._ Angry! no wonder! for it is impossible to keep our +patience when truths so incontrovertible are assailed. What was your +answer? + +_Lucian._ My answer was: If you talk in this manner, my honest friend, +you will excite a spirit of ridicule in the gravest and most saturnine +of men, who never had let a laugh out of their breasts before. Lie to +_me_, and welcome; but beware lest your own heart take you to task for +it, reminding you that both anger and falsehood are reprehended by all +religions, yours included. + +_Timotheus._ Lucian! Lucian! you have always been called profane. + +_Lucian._ For what? for having turned into ridicule the gods whom you +have turned out of house and home, and are reducing to dust? + +_Timotheus._ Well; but you are equally ready to turn into ridicule the +true and holy. + +_Lucian._ In other words, to turn myself into a fool. He who brings +ridicule to bear against Truth, finds in his hand a blade without a +hilt. The most sparkling and pointed flame of wit flickers and +expires against the incombustible walls of her sanctuary. + +_Timotheus._ Fine talking! Do you know, you have really been called an +atheist? + +_Lucian._ Yes, yes; I know it well. But, in fact, I believe there are +almost as few atheists in the world as there are Christians. + +_Timotheus._ How! as few? Most of Europe, most of Asia, most of +Africa, is Christian. + +_Lucian._ Show me five men in each who obey the commands of Christ, +and I will show you five hundred in this very city who observe the +dictates of Pythagoras. Every Pythagorean obeys his defunct +philosopher; and almost every Christian disobeys his living God. Where +is there one who practises the most important and the easiest of His +commands, to abstain from strife? Men easily and perpetually find +something new to quarrel about; but the objects of affection are +limited in number, and grow up scantily and slowly. Even a small house +is often too spacious for them, and there is a vacant seat at the +table. Religious men themselves, when the Deity has bestowed on them +everything they prayed for, discover, as a peculiar gift of +Providence, some fault in the actions or opinions of a neighbour, and +run it down, crying and shouting after it, with more alacrity and more +clamour than boys would a leveret or a squirrel in the playground. Are +our years and our intellects, and the word of God itself, given us for +this, O Timotheus? + +_Timotheus._ A certain latitude, a liberal construction.... + +_Lucian._ Ay, ay! These 'liberal constructions' let loose all the +worst passions into those 'certain latitudes'. The priests themselves, +who ought to be the poorest, are the richest; who ought to be the most +obedient, are the most refractory and rebellious. All trouble and all +piety are vicarious. They send missionaries, at the cost of others, +into foreign lands, to teach observances which they supersede at home. +I have ridiculed the puppets of all features, all colours, all sizes, +by which an impudent and audacious set of impostors have been gaining +an easy livelihood these two thousand years. + +_Timotheus._ Gently! gently! Ours have not been at it yet two hundred. +We abolish all idolatry. We know that Jupiter was not the father of +gods and men: we know that Mars was not the Lord of Hosts: we know who +is: we are quite at ease upon that question. + +_Lucian._ Are you so fanatical, my good Timotheus, as to imagine that +the Creator of the world cares a fig by what appellation you adore +Him? whether you call Him on one occasion Jupiter, on another Apollo? +I will not add Mars or Lord of Hosts; for, wanting as I may be in +piety, I am not, and never was, so impious as to call the Maker the +Destroyer; to call Him Lord of Hosts who, according to your holiest of +books, declared so lately and so plainly that He permits no hosts at +all; much less will He take the command of one against another. Would +any man in his senses go down into the cellar, and seize first an +amphora from the right, and then an amphora from the left, for the +pleasure of breaking them in pieces, and of letting out the wine he +had taken the trouble to put in? We are not contented with attributing +to the gods our own infirmities; we make them even more wayward, even +more passionate, even more exigent and more malignant: and then some +of us try to coax and cajole them, and others run away from them +outright. + +_Timotheus._ No wonder: but only in regard to yours: and even those +are types. + +_Lucian._ There are honest men who occupy their lives in discovering +types for all things. + +_Timotheus._ Truly and rationally thou speakest now. Honest men and +wise men above their fellows are they, and the greatest of all +discoverers. There are many types above thy reach, O Lucian! + +_Lucian._ And one which my mind, and perhaps yours also, can +comprehend. There is in Italy, I hear, on the border of a quiet and +beautiful lake, a temple dedicated to Diana; the priests of which +temple have murdered each his predecessor for unrecorded ages. + +_Timotheus._ What of that? They were idolaters. + +_Lucian._ They made the type, however: take it home with you, and hang +it up in your temple. + +_Timotheus._ Why! you seem to have forgotten on a sudden that I am a +Christian: you are talking of the heathens. + +_Lucian._ True! true! I am near upon eighty years of age, and to my +poor eyesight one thing looks very like another. + +_Timotheus._ You are too indifferent. + +_Lucian._ No indeed. I love those best who quarrel least, and who +bring into public use the most civility and good humour. + +_Timotheus._ Our holy religion inculcates this duty especially. + +_Lucian._ Such being the case, a pleasant story will not be thrown +away upon you. Xenophanes, my townsman of Samosata, was resolved to +buy a new horse: he had tried him, and liked him well enough. I asked +him why he wished to dispose of his old one, knowing how sure-footed +he was, how easy in his paces, and how quiet in his pasture. 'Very +true, O Lucian,' said he; 'the horse is a clever horse; noble eye, +beautiful figure, stately step; rather too fond of neighing and of +shuffling a little in the vicinity of a mare; but tractable and good +tempered.' 'I would not have parted with him then,' said I. 'The fact +is,' replied he, 'my grandfather, whom I am about to visit, likes no +horses but what are _Saturnized_. To-morrow I begin my journey: come +and see me set out.' I went at the hour appointed. The new purchase +looked quiet and demure; but _he_ also pricked up his ears, and gave +sundry other tokens of equinity, when the more interesting part of his +fellow-creatures came near him. As the morning oats began to operate, +he grew more and more unruly, and snapped at one friend of Xenophanes, +and sidled against another, and gave a kick at a third. 'All in play! +all in play!' said Xenophanes; 'his nature is more of a lamb's than a +horse's.' However, these mute salutations being over, away went +Xenophanes. In the evening, when my lamp had just been replenished for +the commencement of my studies, my friend came in striding as if he +were still across the saddle. 'I am apprehensive, O Xenophanes,' said +I, 'your new acquaintance has disappointed you.' 'Not in the least,' +answered he. 'I do assure you, O Lucian! he is the very horse I was +looking out for.' On my requesting him to be seated, he no more +thought of doing so than if it had been in the presence of the Persian +king. I then handed my lamp to him, telling him (as was true) it +contained all the oil I had in the house, and protesting I should be +happier to finish my Dialogue in the morning. He took the lamp into my +bedroom, and appeared to be much refreshed on his return. +Nevertheless, he treated his chair with great delicacy and +circumspection, and evidently was afraid of breaking it by too sudden +a descent. I did not revert to the horse: but he went on of his own +accord. 'I declare to you, O Lucian! it is impossible for me to be +mistaken in a palfrey. My new one is the only one in Samosata that +could carry me at one stretch to my grandfather's.' 'But _has_ he?' +said I, timidly. 'No; he has not yet,' answered my friend. 'To-morrow, +then, I am afraid, we really must lose you.' 'No,' said he; 'the horse +does trot hard: but he is the better for that: I shall soon get used +to him.' In fine, my worthy friend deferred his visit to his +grandfather: his rides were neither long nor frequent: he was ashamed +to part with his purchase, boasted of him everywhere, and, humane as +he is by nature, could almost have broken on the cross the quiet +contented owner of old Bucephalus. + +_Timotheus._ Am I to understand by this, O Cousin Lucian, that I ought +to be contented with the impurities of paganism? + +_Lucian._ Unless you are very unreasonable. A moderate man finds +plenty in it. + +_Timotheus._ We abominate the Deities who patronize them, and we hurl +down the images of the monsters. + +_Lucian._ Sweet cousin! be tenderer to my feelings. In such a tempest +as this, my spark of piety may be blown out. Hold your hand cautiously +before it, until I can find my way. Believe me, no Deities (out of +their own houses) patronize immorality; none patronize unruly +passions, least of all the fierce and ferocious. In my opinion, you +are wrong in throwing down the images of those among them who look on +you benignly: the others I give up to your discretion. But I think it +impossible to stand habitually in the presence of a sweet and open +countenance, graven or depicted, without in some degree partaking of +the character it expresses. Never tell any man that he can derive no +good, in his devotions, from this or from that: abolish neither hope +nor gratitude. + +_Timotheus._ God is offended at vain efforts to represent Him. + +_Lucian._ No such thing, my dear Timotheus. If you knew Him at all, +you would not talk of Him so irreverently. He is pleased, I am +convinced, at every effort to resemble Him, at every wish to remind +both ourselves and others of His benefits. You cannot think so often +of Him without an effigy. + +_Timotheus._ What likeness is there in the perishable to the +Unperishable? + +_Lucian._ I see no reason why there may not be a similitude. All that +the senses can comprehend may be represented by any material; clay or +fig-tree, bronze or ivory, porphyry or gold. Indeed I have a faint +remembrance that, according to your sacred volumes, man was made by +God after His own image. If so, man's intellectual powers are worthily +exercised in attempting to collect all that is beautiful, serene, and +dignified, and to bring Him back to earth again by showing Him the +noblest of His gifts, the work most like His own. Surely He cannot +hate or abandon those who thus cherish His memory, and thus implore +His regard. Perishable and imperfect is everything human: but in these +very qualities I find the best reason for striving to attain what is +least so. Would not any father be gratified by seeing his child +attempt to delineate his features? And would not the gratification be +rather increased than diminished by his incapacity? How long shall the +narrow mind of man stand between goodness and omnipotence? Perhaps the +effigy of your ancestor Isknos is unlike him; whether it is or no, you +cannot tell; but you keep it in your hall, and would be angry if +anybody broke it to pieces or defaced it. Be quite sure there are many +who think as much of their gods as you think of your ancestor Isknos, +and who see in their images as good a likeness. Let men have their own +way, especially their way to the temples. It is easier to drive them +out of one road than into another. Our judicious and good-humoured +Trajan has found it necessary on many occasions to chastise the +law-breakers of your sect, indifferent as he is what gods are +worshipped, so long as their followers are orderly and decorous. The +fiercest of the Dacians never knocked off Jupiter's beard, or broke an +arm off Venus; and the emperor will hardly tolerate in those who have +received a liberal education what he would punish in barbarians. Do +not wear out his patience: try rather to imitate his equity, his +equanimity, and forbearance. + +_Timotheus._ I have been listening to you with much attention, O +Lucian! for I seldom have heard you speak with such gravity. And yet, +O Cousin Lucian! I really do find in you a sad deficiency of that +wisdom which alone is of any value. You talk of Trajan! what is +Trajan? + +_Lucian._ A beneficent citizen, an impartial judge, a sagacious ruler; +the comrade of every brave soldier, the friend and associate of every +man eminent in genius, throughout his empire, the empire of the world. +All arts, all sciences, all philosophies, all religions, are protected +by him. Wherefore his name will flourish, when the proudest of these +have perished in the land of Egypt. Philosophies and religions will +strive, struggle, and suffocate one another. Priesthoods, I know not +how many, are quarrelling and scuffling in the street at this instant, +all calling on Trajan to come and knock an antagonist on the head; and +the most peaceful of them, as it wishes to be thought, proclaiming him +an infidel for turning a deaf ear to its imprecations. Mankind was +never so happy as under his guidance; and he has nothing now to do but +to put down the battles of the gods. If they must fight it out, he +will insist on our neutrality. + +_Timotheus._ He has no authority and no influence over us in matters +of faith. A wise and upright man, whose serious thoughts lead him +forward to religion, will never be turned aside from it by any worldly +consideration or any human force. + +_Lucian._ True: but mankind is composed not entirely of the upright +and the wise. I suspect that we may find some, here and there, who are +rather too fond of novelties in the furniture of temples; and I have +observed that new sects are apt to warp, crack, and split, under the +heat they generate. Our homely old religion has run into fewer +quarrels, ever since the Centaurs and Lapiths (whose controversy was +on a subject quite comprehensible), than yours has engendered in +twenty years. + +_Timotheus._ We shall obviate that inconvenience by electing a supreme +Pontiff to decide all differences. It has been seriously thought about +long ago: and latterly we have been making out an ideal series down to +the present day, in order that our successors in the ministry may have +stepping-stones up to the fountain-head. At first the disseminators of +our doctrines were equal in their commission; we do not approve of +this any longer, for reasons of our own. + +_Lucian._ You may shut, one after another, all our other temples, but, +I plainly see, you will never shut the temple of Janus. The Roman +Empire will never lose its pugnacious character while your sect +exists. The only danger is, lest the fever rage internally and consume +the vitals. If you sincerely wish your religion to be long-lived, +maintain in it the spirit of its constitution, and keep it patient, +humble, abstemious, domestic, and zealous only in the services of +humanity. Whenever the higher of your priesthood shall attain the +riches they are aiming at, the people will envy their possessions and +revolt from their impostures. Do not let them seize upon the palace, +and shove their God again into the manger. + +_Timotheus._ Lucian! Lucian! I call this impiety. + +_Lucian._ So do I, and shudder at its consequences. Caverns which at +first look inviting, the roof at the aperture green with overhanging +ferns and clinging mosses, then glittering with native gems and with +water as sparkling and pellucid, freshening the air all around; these +caverns grow darker and closer, until you find yourself among animals +that shun the daylight, adhering to the walls, hissing along the +bottom, flapping, screeching, gaping, glaring, making you shrink at +the sounds, and sicken at the smells, and afraid to advance or +retreat. + +_Timotheus._ To what can this refer? Our caverns open on verdure, and +terminate in veins of gold. + +_Lucian._ Veins of gold, my good Timotheus, such as your excavations +have opened and are opening, in the spirit of avarice and ambition, +will be washed (or as you would say, _purified_) in streams of blood. +Arrogance, intolerance, resistance to authority and contempt of law, +distinguish your aspiring sectarians from the other subjects of the +empire. + +_Timotheus._ Blindness hath often a calm and composed countenance; +but, my Cousin Lucian! it usually hath also the advantage of a +cautious and a measured step. It hath pleased God to blind you, like +all the other adversaries of our faith; but He has given you no staff +to lean upon. You object against us the very vices from which we are +peculiarly exempt. + +_Lucian._ Then it is all a story, a fable, a fabrication, about one of +your earlier leaders cutting off with his sword a servant's ear? If +the accusation is true, the offence is heavy. For not only was the +wounded man innocent of any provocation, but he is represented as +being in the service of the high priest at Jerusalem. Moreover, from +the direction and violence of the blow, it is evident that his life +was aimed at. According to law, you know, my dear cousin, all the +party might have been condemned to death, as accessories to an attempt +at murder. I am unwilling to think so unfavourably of your sect; nor +indeed do I see the possibility that, in such an outrage, the +principal could be pardoned. For any man but a soldier to go about +armed is against the Roman law, which, on that head, as on many +others, is borrowed from the Athenian; and it is incredible that in +any civilized country so barbarous a practice can be tolerated. +Travellers do indeed relate that, in certain parts of India, there are +princes at whose courts even civilians are armed. But _traveller_ has +occasionally the same signification as _liar_, and _India_ as _fable_. +However, if the practice really does exist in that remote and rarely +visited country, it must be in some region of it very far beyond the +Indus or the Ganges: for the nations situated between those rivers +are, and were in the reign of Alexander, and some thousand years +before his birth, as civilized as the Europeans; nay, incomparably +more courteous, more industrious, and more pacific; the three grand +criterions. + +But answer my question: is there any foundation for so mischievous a +report? + +_Timotheus._ There was indeed, so to say, an ear, or something of the +kind, abscinded; probably by mistake. But high priests' servants are +propense to follow the swaggering gait of their masters, and to carry +things with a high hand, in such wise as to excite the choler of the +most quiet. If you knew the character of the eminently holy man who +punished the atrocious insolence of that bloody-minded wretch, you +would be sparing of your animadversions. We take him for our model. + +_Lucian._ I see you do. + +_Timotheus._ We proclaim him Prince of the Apostles. + +_Lucian._ I am the last in the world to question his princely +qualifications; but, if I might advise you, it should be to follow in +preference Him whom you acknowledge to be an unerring guide; who +delivered to you His ordinances with His own hand, equitable, plain, +explicit, compendious, and complete; who committed no violence, who +countenanced no injustice, whose compassion was without weakness, +whose love was without frailty, whose life was led in humility, in +purity, in beneficence, and, at the end, laid down in obedience to His +Father's will. + +_Timotheus._ Ah, Lucian! what strangely imperfect notions! all that is +little. + +_Lucian._ Enough to follow. + +_Timotheus._ Not enough to compel others. I did indeed hope, O Lucian! +that you would again come forward with the irresistible arrows of your +wit, and unite with us against our adversaries. By what you have just +spoken, I doubt no longer that you approve of the doctrines inculcated +by the blessed Founder of our religion. + +_Lucian._ To the best of my understanding. + +_Timotheus._ So ardent is my desire for the salvation of your precious +soul, O my cousin! that I would devote many hours of every day to +disputation with you on the principal points of our Christian +controversy. + +_Lucian._ Many thanks, my kind Timotheus! But I think the blessed +Founder of your religion very strictly forbade that there should be +_any_ points of controversy. Not only has He prohibited them on the +doctrines He delivered, but on everything else. Some of the most +obstinate might never have doubted of His Divinity, if the conduct of +His followers had not repelled them from the belief of it. How can +they imagine you sincere when they see you disobedient? It is in vain +for you to protest that you worship the God of Peace, when you are +found daily in the courts and market-places with clenched fists and +bloody noses. I acknowledge the full value of your offer; but really I +am as anxious for the salvation of your precious time as you appear to +be for the salvation of my precious soul, particularly since I am +come to the conclusion that souls cannot be lost, and that time can. + +_Timotheus._ We mean by _salvation_ exemption from eternal torments. + +_Lucian._ Among all my old gods and their children, morose as some of +the senior are, and mischievous as are some of the junior, I have +never represented the worst of them as capable of inflicting such +atrocity. Passionate and capricious and unjust are several of them; +but a skin stripped off the shoulder, and a liver tossed to a vulture, +are among the worst of their inflictions. + +_Timotheus._ This is scoffing. + +_Lucian._ Nobody but an honest man has a right to scoff at anything. + +_Timotheus._ And yet people of a very different cast are usually those +who scoff the most. + +_Lucian._ We are apt to push forward at that which we are without: the +low-born at titles and distinctions, the silly at wit, the knave at +the semblance of probity. But I was about to remark, that an honest +man may fairly scoff at all philosophies and religions which are +proud, ambitious, intemperate, and contradictory. The thing most +adverse to the spirit and essence of them all is falsehood. It is the +business of the philosophical to seek truth: it is the office of the +religious to worship her; under what name is unimportant. The +falsehood that the tongue commits is slight in comparison with what is +conceived by the heart, and executed by the whole man, throughout +life. If, professing love and charity to the human race at large, I +quarrel day after day with my next neighbour; if, professing that the +rich can never see God, I spend in the luxuries of my household a +talent monthly; if, professing to place so much confidence in His +word, that, in regard to wordly weal, I need take no care for +to-morrow, I accumulate stores even beyond what would be necessary, +though I quite distrusted both His providence and His veracity; if, +professing that 'he who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord', I +question the Lord's security, and haggle with Him about the amount of +the loan; if, professing that I am their steward, I keep ninety-nine +parts in the hundred as the emolument of my stewardship; how, when God +hates liars and punishes defrauders, shall I, and other such thieves +and hypocrites, fare hereafter? + +_Timotheus._ Let us hope there are few of them. + +_Lucian._ We cannot hope against what is: we may, however, hope that +in future these will be fewer; but never while the overseers of a +priesthood look for offices out of it, taking the lead in politics, in +debate, and strife. Such men bring to ruin all religion, but their own +first, and raise unbelievers not only in Divine Providence, but in +human faith. + +_Timotheus._ If they leave the altar for the market-place, the +sanctuary for the senate-house, and agitate party questions instead of +Christian verities, everlasting punishments await them. + +_Lucian._ Everlasting? + +_Timotheus._ Certainly: at the very least. I rank it next to heresy in +the catalogue of sins; and the Church supports my opinion. + +_Lucian._ I have no measure for ascertaining the distance between the +opinions and practices of men; I only know that they stand widely +apart in all countries on the most important occasions; but this +newly-hatched word _heresy_, alighting on my ear, makes me rub it. A +beneficent God descends on earth in the human form, to redeem us from +the slavery of sin, from the penalty of our passions: can you imagine +He will punish an error in opinion, or even an obstinacy in unbelief, +with everlasting torments? Supposing it highly criminal to refuse to +weigh a string of arguments, or to cross-question a herd of witnesses, +on a subject which no experience has warranted and no sagacity can +comprehend; supposing it highly criminal to be contented with the +religion which our parents taught us, which they bequeathed to us as +the most precious of possessions, and which it would have broken their +hearts if they had foreseen we should cast aside; yet are eternal +pains the just retribution of what at worst is but indifference and +supineness? + +_Timotheus._ Our religion has clearly this advantage over yours: it +teaches us to regulate our passions. + +_Lucian._ Rather say it _tells_ us. I believe all religions do the +same; some indeed more emphatically and primarily than others; but +_that_ indeed would be incontestably of Divine origin, and +acknowledged at once by the most sceptical, which should thoroughly +teach it. Now, my friend Timotheus, I think you are about seventy-five +years of age. + +_Timotheus._ Nigh upon it. + +_Lucian._ Seventy-five years, according to my calculation, are +equivalent to seventy-five gods and goddesses in regulating our +passions for us, if we speak of the amatory, which are always thought +in every stage of life the least to be pardoned. + +_Timotheus._ Execrable! + +_Lucian._ I am afraid the sourest hang longest on the tree. Mimnermus +says: + + In early youth we often sigh + Because our pulses beat so high; + All this we conquer, and at last + We sigh that we are grown so chaste. + +_Timotheus._ Swine! + +_Lucian._ No animal sighs oftener or louder. But, my dear cousin, the +quiet swine is less troublesome and less odious than the grumbling and +growling and fierce hyena, which will not let the dead rest in their +graves. We may be merry with the follies and even the vices of men, +without doing or wishing them harm; punishment should come from the +magistrate, not from us. If we are to give pain to any one because he +thinks differently from us, we ought to begin by inflicting a few +smart stripes on ourselves; for both upon light and upon grave +occasions, if we have thought much and often, our opinions must have +varied. We are always fond of seizing and managing what appertains to +others. In the savage state all belongs to all. Our neighbours the +Arabs, who stand between barbarism and civilization, waylay +travellers, and plunder their equipage and their gold. The wilier +marauders in Alexandria start up from under the shadow of temples, +force us to change our habiliments for theirs, and strangle us with +fingers dipped in holy water if we say they sit uneasily. + +_Timotheus._ This is not the right view of things. + +_Lucian._ That is never the right view which lets in too much light. +About two centuries have elapsed since your religion was founded. Show +me the pride it has humbled; show me the cruelty it has mitigated; +show me the lust it has extinguished or repressed. I have now been +living ten years in Alexandria; and you never will accuse me, I think, +of any undue partiality for the system in which I was educated; yet, +from all my observation, I find no priest or elder, in your community, +wise, tranquil, firm, and sedate as Epicurus, and Carneades, and Zeno, +and Epictetus; or indeed in the same degree as some who were often +called forth into political and military life; Epaminondas, for +instance, and Phocion. + +_Timotheus._ I pity them from my soul: they were ignorant of the +truth: they are lost, my cousin! take my word for it, they are lost +men. + +_Lucian._ Unhappily, they are. I wish we had them back again; or +that, since we have lost them, we could at least find among us the +virtues they left for our example. + +_Timotheus._ Alas, my poor cousin! you too are blind; you do not +understand the plainest words, nor comprehend those verities which are +the most evident and palpable. Virtues! if the poor wretches had any, +they were false ones. + +_Lucian._ Scarcely ever has there been a politician, in any free +state, without much falsehood and duplicity. I have named the most +illustrious exceptions. Slender and irregular lines of a darker colour +run along the bright blade that decides the fate of nations, and may +indeed be necessary to the perfection of its temper. The great warrior +has usually his darker lines of character, necessary (it may be) to +constitute his greatness. No two men possess the same quantity of the +same virtues, if they have many or much. We want some which do not far +outstep us, and which we may follow with the hope of reaching; we want +others to elevate, and others to defend us. The order of things would +be less beautiful without this variety. Without the ebb and flow of +our passions, but guided and moderated by a beneficent light above, +the ocean of life would stagnate; and zeal, devotion, eloquence, would +become dead carcasses, collapsing and wasting on unprofitable sands. +The vices of some men cause the virtues of others, as corruption is +the parent of fertility. + +_Timotheus._ O my cousin! this doctrine is diabolical. + +_Lucian._ What is it? + +_Timotheus._ Diabolical; a strong expression in daily use among us. We +turn it a little from its origin. + +_Lucian._ Timotheus, I love to sit by the side of a clear water, +although there is nothing in it but naked stones. Do not take the +trouble to muddy the stream of language for my benefit; I am not about +to fish in it. + +_Timotheus._ Well, we will speak about things which come nearer to +your apprehension. I only wish you were somewhat less indifferent in +your choice between the true and the false. + +_Lucian._ We take it for granted that what is not true must be false. + +_Timotheus._ Surely we do. + +_Lucian._ This is erroneous. + +_Timotheus._ Are you grown captious? Pray explain. + +_Lucian._ What is not true, I need not say, must be untrue; but that +alone is false which is intended to deceive. A witness may be +mistaken, yet would not you call him a false witness unless he +asserted what he knew to be false. + +_Timotheus._ Quibbles upon words! + +_Lucian._ On words, on quibbles, if you please to call distinctions +so, rests the axis of the intellectual world. A winged word hath stuck +ineradicably in a million hearts, and envenomed every hour throughout +their hard pulsation. On a winged word hath hung the destiny of +nations. On a winged word hath human wisdom been willing to cast the +immortal soul, and to leave it dependent for all its future happiness. +It is because a word is unsusceptible of explanation, or because they +who employed it were impatient of any, that enormous evils have +prevailed, not only against our common sense, but against our common +humanity. Hence the most pernicious of absurdities, far exceeding in +folly and mischief the worship of threescore gods; namely, that an +implicit faith in what outrages our reason, which we know is God's +gift, and bestowed on us for our guidance, that this weak, blind, +stupid faith is surer of His favour than the constant practice of +every human virtue. They at whose hands one prodigious lie, such as +this, hath been accepted, may reckon on their influence in the +dissemination of many smaller, and may turn them easily to their own +account. Be sure they will do it sooner or later. The fly floats on +the surface for a while, but up springs the fish at last and swallows +it. + +_Timotheus._ Was ever man so unjust as you are? The abominable old +priesthoods are avaricious and luxurious: ours is willing to stand or +fall by maintaining its ordinances of fellowship and frugality. Point +out to me a priest of our religion whom you could, by any temptation +or entreaty, so far mislead, that he shall reserve for his own +consumption one loaf, one plate of lentils, while another poor +Christian hungers. In the meanwhile the priests of Isis are proud and +wealthy, and admit none of the indigent to their tables. And now, to +tell you the whole truth, my Cousin Lucian, I come to you this morning +to propose that we should lay our heads together and compose a merry +dialogue on these said priests of Isis. What say you? + +_Lucian._ These said priests of Isis have already been with me, +several times, on a similar business in regard to yours. + +_Timotheus._ Malicious wretches! + +_Lucian._ Beside, they have attempted to persuade me that your +religion is borrowed from theirs, altering a name a little and laying +the scene of action in a corner, in the midst of obscurity and ruins. + +_Timotheus._ The wicked dogs! the hellish liars! We have nothing in +common with such vile impostors. Are they not ashamed of taking such +unfair means of lowering us in the estimation of our fellow-citizens? +And so, they artfully came to you, craving any spare jibe to throw +against us! They lie open to these weapons; we do not: we stand above +the malignity, above the strength, of man. You would do justly in +turning their own devices against them: it would be amusing to see how +they would look. If you refuse me, I am resolved to write a Dialogue +of the Dead, myself, and to introduce these hypocrites in it. + +_Lucian._ Consider well first, my good Timotheus, whether you can do +any such thing with propriety; I mean to say judiciously in regard to +composition. + +_Timotheus._ I always thought you generous and open-hearted, and quite +inaccessible to jealousy. + +_Lucian._ Let nobody ever profess himself so much as that: for, +although he may be insensible of the disease, it lurks within him, and +only waits its season to break out. But really, my cousin, at present +I feel no symptoms: and, to prove that I am ingenuous and sincere with +you, these are my reasons for dissuasion. We believers in the Homeric +family of gods and goddesses, believe also in the locality of Tartarus +and Elysium. We entertain no doubt whatever that the passions of men +and demigods and gods are nearly the same above ground and below; and +that Achilles would dispatch his spear through the body of any shade +who would lead Briseis too far among the myrtles, or attempt to throw +the halter over the ears of any chariot horse belonging to him in the +meads of asphodel. We admit no doubt of these verities, delivered down +to us from the ages when Theseus and Hercules had descended into Hades +itself. Instead of a few stadions in a cavern, with a bank and a bower +at the end of it, under a very small portion of our diminutive Hellas, +you Christians possess the whole cavity of the earth for punishment, +and the whole convex of the sky for felicity. + +_Timotheus._ Our passions are burnt out amid the fires of +purification, and our intellects are elevated to the enjoyment of +perfect intelligence. + +_Lucian._ How silly then and incongruous would it be, not to say how +impious, to represent your people as no better and no wiser than they +were before, and discoursing on subjects which no longer can or ought +to concern them. Christians must think your Dialogue of the Dead no +less irreligious than their opponents think mine, and infinitely more +absurd. If indeed you are resolved on this form of composition, there +is no topic which may not, with equal facility, be discussed on +earth; and you may intersperse as much ridicule as you please, without +any fear of censure for inconsistency or irreverence. Hitherto such +writers have confined their view mostly to speculative points, +sophistic reasonings, and sarcastic interpellations. + +_Timotheus._ Ha! you are always fond of throwing a little pebble at +the lofty Plato, whom we, on the contrary, are ready to receive (in a +manner) as one of ourselves. + +_Lucian._ To throw pebbles is a very uncertain way of showing where +lie defects. Whenever I have mentioned him seriously, I have brought +forward, not accusations, but passages from his writings, such as no +philosopher or scholar or moralist can defend. + +_Timotheus._ His doctrines are too abstruse and too sublime for you. + +_Lucian._ Solon, Anaxagoras, and Epicurus, are more sublime, if truth +is sublimity. + +_Timotheus._ Truth is, indeed; for God is truth. + +_Lucian._ We are upon earth to learn what can be learnt upon earth, +and not to speculate on what never can be. This you, O Timotheus, may +call philosophy: to me it appears the idlest of curiosity; for every +other kind may teach us something, and may lead to more beyond. Let +men learn what benefits men; above all things, to contract their +wishes, to calm their passions, and, more especially, to dispel their +fears. Now these are to be dispelled, not by collecting clouds, but by +piercing and scattering them. In the dark we may imagine depths and +heights immeasurable, which, if a torch be carried right before us, we +find it easy to leap across. Much of what we call sublime is only the +residue of infancy, and the worst of it. + +The philosophers I quoted are too capacious for schools and systems. +Without noise, without ostentation, without mystery, not quarrelsome, +not captious, not frivolous, their lives were commentaries on their +doctrine. Never evaporating into mist, never stagnating into mire, +their limpid and broad morality runs parallel with the lofty summits +of their genius. + +_Timotheus._ Genius! was ever genius like Plato's? + +_Lucian._ The most admired of his Dialogues, his _Banquet_, is beset +with such puerilities, deformed with such pedantry, and disgraced with +such impurity, that none but the thickest beards, and chiefly of the +philosophers and the satyrs, should bend over it. On a former occasion +he has given us a specimen of history, than which nothing in our +language is worse: here he gives us one of poetry, in honour of Love, +for which the god has taken ample vengeance on him, by perverting his +taste and feelings. The grossest of all the absurdities in this +dialogue is, attributing to Aristophanes, so much of a scoffer and so +little of a visionary, the silly notion of male and female having been +originally complete in one person, and walking circuitously. He may be +joking: who knows? + +_Timotheus._ Forbear! forbear! do not call this notion a silly one: +he took it from our Holy Scriptures, but perverted it somewhat. Woman +was made from man's rib, and did not require to be cut asunder all +the way down: this is no proof of bad reasoning, but merely of +misinterpretation. + +_Lucian._ If you would rather have bad reasoning, I will adduce a +little of it. Farther on, he wishes to extol the wisdom of Agathon by +attributing to him such a sentence as this: + +'It is evident that Love is the most beautiful of the gods, _because_ +he is the youngest of them.' + +Now, even on earth, the youngest is not always the most beautiful; how +infinitely less cogent, then, is the argument when we come to speak of +the Immortals, with whom age can have no concern! There was a time +when Vulcan was the youngest of the gods: was he, also, at that time, +and for that reason, the most beautiful? Your philosopher tells us, +moreover, that 'Love is of all deities the most _liquid_; else he +never could fold himself about everything, and flow into and out of +men's souls.' + +The three last sentences of Agathon's rhapsody are very harmonious, +and exhibit the finest specimen of Plato's style; but we, accustomed +as we are to hear him lauded for his poetical diction, should hold +that poem a very indifferent one which left on the mind so superficial +an impression. The garden of Academus is flowery without fragrance, +and dazzling without warmth: I am ready to dream away an hour in it +after dinner, but I think it insalutary for a night's repose. So +satisfied was Plato with his _Banquet_, that he says of himself, in +the person of Socrates, 'How can I or any one but find it difficult to +speak after a discourse so eloquent? It would have been wonderful if +the brilliancy of the sentences at the end of it, and the choice of +expression throughout, had not astonished all the auditors. I, who can +never say anything nearly so beautiful, would if possible have made my +escape, and have fairly run off for shame.' He had indeed much better +run off before he made so wretched a pun on the name of Gorgias. 'I +dreaded,' says he, 'lest Agathon, _measuring my discourse by the head +of the eloquent Gorgias, should turn me to stone_ for inability of +utterance.' + +Was there ever joke more frigid? What painful twisting of unelastic +stuff! If Socrates was the wisest man in the world, it would require +another oracle to persuade us, after this, that he was the wittiest. +But surely a small share of common sense would have made him abstain +from hazarding such failures. He falls on his face in very flat and +very dry ground; and, when he gets up again, his quibbles are +well-nigh as tedious as his witticisms. However, he has the presence +of mind to throw them on the shoulders of Diotima, whom he calls a +prophetess, and who, ten years before the plague broke out in Athens, +obtained from the gods (he tells us) that delay. Ah! the gods were +doubly mischievous: they sent her first. Read her words, my cousin, as +delivered by Socrates; and if they have another plague in store for +us, you may avert it by such an act of expiation. + +_Timotheus._ The world will have ended before ten years are over. + +_Lucian._ Indeed! + +_Timotheus._ It has been pronounced. + +_Lucian._ How the threads of belief and unbelief run woven close +together in the whole web of human life! Come, come; take courage; you +will have time for your Dialogue. Enlarge the circle; enrich it with a +variety of matter, enliven it with a multitude of characters, occupy +the intellect of the thoughtful, the imagination of the lively; spread +the board with solid viands, delicate rarities, and sparkling wines; +and throw, along the whole extent of it, geniality and festal crowns. + +_Timotheus._ What writer of dialogues hath ever done this, or +undertaken, or conceived, or hoped it? + +_Lucian._ None whatever; yet surely you yourself may, when even your +babes and sucklings are endowed with abilities incomparably greater +than our niggardly old gods have bestowed on the very best of us. + +_Timotheus._ I wish, my dear Lucian, you would let our babes and +sucklings lie quiet, and say no more about them: as for your gods, I +leave them at your mercy. Do not impose on me the performance of a +task in which Plato himself, if he had attempted it, would have +failed. + +_Lucian._ No man ever detected false reasoning with more quickness; +but unluckily he called in Wit at the exposure; and Wit, I am sorry to +say, held the lowest place in his household. He sadly mistook the +qualities of his mind in attempting the facetious; or, rather, he +fancied he possessed one quality more than belonged to him. But, if he +himself had not been a worse quibbler than any whose writings are come +down to us, we might have been gratified by the exposure of wonderful +acuteness wretchedly applied. It is no small service to the community +to turn into ridicule the grave impostors, who are contending which of +them shall guide and govern us, whether in politics or religion. There +are always a few who will take the trouble to walk down among the +seaweeds and slippery stones, for the sake of showing their credulous +fellow-citizens that skins filled with sand, and set upright at the +forecastle, are neither men nor merchandise. + +_Timotheus._ I can bring to mind, O Lucian, no writer possessing so +great a variety of wit as you. + +_Lucian._ No man ever possessed any variety of this gift; and the +holder is not allowed to exchange the quality for another. Banter (and +such is Plato's) never grows large, never sheds its bristles, and +never do they soften into the humorous or the facetious. + +_Timotheus._ I agree with you that banter is the worst species of wit. +We have indeed no correct idea what persons those really were whom +Plato drags by the ears, to undergo slow torture under Socrates. One +sophist, I must allow, is precisely like another: no discrimination of +character, none of manner, none of language. + +_Lucian._ He wanted the fancy and fertility of Aristophanes. + +_Timotheus._ Otherwise, his mind was more elevated and more poetical. + +_Lucian._ Pardon me if I venture to express my dissent in both +particulars. Knowledge of the human heart, and discrimination of +character, are requisites of the poet. Few ever have possessed them in +an equal degree with Aristophanes: Plato has given no indication of +either. + +_Timotheus._ But consider his imagination. + +_Lucian._ On what does it rest? He is nowhere so imaginative as in his +_Polity_. Nor is there any state in the world that is, or would be, +governed by it. One day you may find him at his counter in the midst +of old-fashioned toys, which crack and crumble under his fingers while +he exhibits and recommends them; another day, while he is sitting on a +goat's bladder, I may discover his bald head surmounting an enormous +mass of loose chaff and uncleanly feathers, which he would persuade +you is the pleasantest and healthiest of beds, and that dreams descend +on it from the gods. + + 'Open your mouth, and shut your eyes, and see what Zeus shall + send you,' + +says Aristophanes in his favourite metre. In this helpless condition +of closed optics and hanging jaw, we find the followers of Plato. It +is by shutting their eyes that they see, and by opening their mouths +that they apprehend. Like certain broad-muzzled dogs, all stand +equally stiff and staunch, although few scent the game, and their lips +wag, and water, at whatever distance from the net. We must leave them +with their hands hanging down before them, confident that they are +wiser than we are, were it only for this attitude of humility. It is +amusing to see them in it before the tall, well-robed Athenian, while +he mis-spells the charms, and plays clumsily the tricks, he acquired +from the conjurors here in Egypt. I wish you better success with the +same materials. But in my opinion all philosophers should speak +clearly. The highest things are the purest and brightest; and the best +writers are those who render them the most intelligible to the world +below. In the arts and sciences, and particularly in music and +metaphysics, this is difficult: but the subjects not being such as lie +within the range of the community, I lay little stress upon them, and +wish authors to deal with them as they best may, only beseeching that +they recompense us, by bringing within our comprehension the other +things with which they are entrusted for us. The followers of Plato +fly off indignantly from any such proposal. If I ask them the meaning +of some obscure passage, they answer that I am unprepared and unfitted +for it, and that his mind is so far above mine, I cannot grasp it. I +look up into the faces of these worthy men, who mingle so much +commiseration with so much calmness, and wonder at seeing them look no +less vacant than my own. + +_Timotheus._ You have acknowledged his eloquence, while you derided +his philosophy and repudiated his morals. + +_Lucian._ Certainly there was never so much eloquence with so little +animation. When he has heated his oven, he forgets to put the bread +into it; instead of which, he throws in another bundle of faggots. His +words and sentences are often too large for the place they occupy. If +a water-melon is not to be placed in an oyster-shell, neither is a +grain of millet in a golden salver. At high festivals a full band may +enter: ordinary conversation goes on better without it. + +_Timotheus._ There is something so spiritual about him, that many of +us Christians are firmly of opinion he must have been partially +enlightened from above. + +_Lucian._ I hope and believe we all are. His entire works are in our +library. Do me the favour to point out to me a few of those passages +where in poetry he approaches the spirit of Aristophanes, or where in +morals he comes up to Epictetus. + +_Timotheus._ It is useless to attempt it if you carry your prejudices +with you. Beside, my dear cousin, I would not offend you, but really +your mind has no point about it which could be brought to contact or +affinity with Plato's. + +_Lucian._ In the universality of his genius there must surely be some +atom coincident with another in mine. You acknowledge, as everybody +must do, that his wit is the heaviest and lowest: pray, is the +specimen he has given us of history at all better? + +_Timotheus._ I would rather look to the loftiness of his mind, and the +genius that sustains him. + +_Lucian._ So would I. Magnificent words, and the pomp and procession +of stately sentences, may accompany genius, but are not always nor +frequently called out by it. The voice ought not to be perpetually nor +much elevated in the ethic and didactic, nor to roll sonorously, as if +it issued from a mask in the theatre. The horses in the plain under +Troy are not always kicking and neighing; nor is the dust always +raised in whirlwinds on the banks of Simois and Scamander; nor are the +rampires always in a blaze. Hector has lowered his helmet to the +infant of Andromache, and Achilles to the embraces of Briseis. I do +not blame the prose-writer who opens his bosom occasionally to a +breath of poetry; neither, on the contrary, can I praise the gait of +that pedestrian who lifts up his legs as high on a bare heath as in a +cornfield. Be authority as old and obstinate as it may, never let it +persuade you that a man is the stronger for being unable to keep +himself on the ground, or the weaker for breathing quietly and softly +on ordinary occasions. Tell me, over and over, that you find every +great quality in Plato: let me only once ask you in return, whether he +ever is ardent and energetic, whether he wins the affections, whether +he agitates the heart. Finding him deficient in every one of these +faculties, I think his disciples have extolled him too highly. Where +power is absent, we may find the robes of genius, but we miss the +throne. He would acquit a slave who killed another in self-defence, +but if he killed any free man, even in self-defence; he was not only +to be punished with death, but to undergo the cruel death of a +parricide. This effeminate philosopher was more severe than the manly +Demosthenes, who quotes a law against the striking of a slave: and +Diogenes, when one ran away from him, remarked that it would be +horrible if Diogenes could not do without a slave, when a slave could +do without Diogenes. + +_Timotheus._ Surely the allegories of Plato are evidences of his +genius. + +_Lucian._ A great poet in the hours of his idleness may indulge in +allegory: but the highest poetical character will never rest on so +unsubstantial a foundation. The poet must take man from God's hands, +must look into every fibre of his heart and brain, must be able to +take the magnificent work to pieces, and to reconstruct it. When this +labour is completed, let him throw himself composedly on the earth, +and care little how many of its ephemeral insects creep over him. In +regard to these allegories of Plato, about which I have heard so much, +pray what and where are they? You hesitate, my fair cousin Timotheus! +Employ one morning in transcribing them, and another in noting all the +passages which are of practical utility in the commerce of social +life, or purify our affections at home, or excite and elevate our +enthusiasm in the prosperity and glory of our country. Useful books, +moral books, instructive books are easily composed: and surely so +great a writer should present them to us without blot or blemish: I +find among his many volumes no copy of a similar composition. My +enthusiasm is not easily raised indeed; yet such a whirlwind of a poet +must carry it away with him; nevertheless, here I stand, calm and +collected, not a hair of my beard in commotion. Declamation will find +its echo in vacant places: it beats ineffectually on the +well-furnished mind. Give me proof; bring the work; show the passages; +convince, confound, overwhelm me. + +_Timotheus._ I may do that another time with Plato. And yet, what +effect can I hope to produce on an unhappy man who doubts even that +the world is on the point of extinction? + +_Lucian._ Are there many of your association who believe that this +catastrophe is so near at hand? + +_Timotheus._ We all believe it; or rather, we all are certain of it. + +_Lucian._ How so? Have you observed any fracture in the disk of the +sun? Are any of the stars loosened in their orbits? Has the beautiful +light of Venus ceased to pant in the heavens, or has the belt of Orion +lost its gems? + +_Timotheus._ Oh, for shame! + +_Lucian._ Rather should I be ashamed of indifference on so important +an occasion. + +_Timotheus._ We know the fact by surer signs. + +_Lucian._ These, if you could vouch for them, would be sure enough for +me. The least of them would make me sweat as profusely as if I stood +up to the neck in the hot preparation of a mummy. Surely no wise or +benevolent philosopher could ever have uttered what he knew or +believed might be distorted into any such interpretation. For if men +are persuaded that they and their works are so soon about to perish, +what provident care are they likely to take in the education and +welfare of their families? What sciences will they improve, what +learning will they cultivate, what monuments of past ages will they be +studious to preserve, who are certain that there can be no future +ones? Poetry will be censured as rank profaneness, eloquence will be +converted into howls and execrations, statuary will exhibit only +Midases and Ixions, and all the colours of painting will be mixed +together to produce one grand conflagration: _flammantia moenia +mundi_. + +_Timotheus._ Do not quote an atheist; especially in Latin. I hate the +language; the Romans are beginning to differ from us already. + +_Lucian._ Ah! you will soon split into smaller fractions. But pardon +me my unusual fault of quoting. Before I let fall a quotation I must +be taken by surprise. I seldom do it in conversation, seldomer in +composition; for it mars the beauty and unity of style, especially +when it invades it from a foreign tongue. A quoter is either +ostentatious of his acquirements or doubtful of his cause. And +moreover, he never walks gracefully who leans upon the shoulder of +another, however gracefully that other may walk. Herodotus, Plato, +Aristoteles, Demosthenes, are no quoters. Thucydides, twice or thrice, +inserts a few sentences of Pericles: but Thucydides is an emanation of +Pericles, somewhat less clear indeed, being lower, although at no +great distance from that purest and most pellucid source. The best of +the Romans, I agree with you, are remote from such originals, if not +in power of mind, or in acuteness of remark, or in sobriety of +judgment, yet in the graces of composition. While I admired, with a +species of awe such as not Homer himself ever impressed me with, the +majesty and sanctimony of Livy, I have been informed by learned Romans +that in the structure of his sentences he is often inharmonious, and +sometimes uncouth. I can imagine such uncouthness in the goddess of +battles, confident of power and victory, when part of her hair is +waving round the helmet, loosened by the rapidity of her descent or +the vibration of her spear. Composition may be too adorned even for +beauty. In painting it is often requisite to cover a bright colour +with one less bright; and, in language, to relieve the ear from the +tension of high notes, even at the cost of a discord. There are urns +of which the borders are too prominent and too decorated for use, and +which appear to be brought out chiefly for state, at grand carousals. +The author who imitates the artificers of these, shall never have my +custom. + +_Timotheus._ I think you judge rightly: but I do not understand +languages: I only understand religion. + +_Lucian._ He must be a most accomplished, a most extraordinary man, +who comprehends them both together. We do not even talk clearly when +we are walking in the dark. + +_Timotheus._ Thou art not merely walking in the dark, but fast asleep. + +_Lucian._ And thou, my cousin, wouldst kindly awaken me with a red-hot +poker. I have but a few paces to go along the corridor of life: +prithee let me turn into my bed again and lie quiet. Never was any man +less an enemy to religion than I am, whatever may be said to the +contrary: and you shall judge of me by the soundness of my advice. If +your leaders are in earnest, as many think, do persuade them to +abstain from quarrelsomeness and contention, and not to declare it +necessary that there should perpetually be a religious as well as a +political war between east and west. No honest and considerate man +will believe in their doctrines, who, inculcating peace and good-will, +continue all the time to assail their fellow-citizens with the utmost +rancour at every divergency of opinion, and, forbidding the indulgence +of the kindlier affections, exercise at full stretch the fiercer. This +is certain: if they obey any commander, they will never sound a charge +when his order is to sound a retreat: if they acknowledge any +magistrate, they will never tear down the tablet of his edicts. + +_Timotheus._ We have what is all-sufficient. + +_Lucian._ I see you have. + +_Timotheus._ You have ridiculed all religion and all philosophy. + +_Lucian._ I have found but little of either. I have cracked many a +nut, and have come only to dust or maggots. + +_Timotheus._ To say nothing of the saints, are all philosophers fools +or impostors? And, because you cannot rise to the ethereal heights of +Plato, nor comprehend the real magnitude of a man so much above you, +must he be a dwarf? + +_Lucian._ The best sight is not that which sees best in the dark or +the twilight; for no objects are then visible in their true colours, +and just proportions; but it is that which presents to us things as +they are, and indicates what is within our reach and what is beyond +it. Never were any three writers, of high celebrity, so little +understood in the main character, as Plato, Diogenes, and Epicurus. +Plato is a perfect master of logic and rhetoric; and whenever he errs +in either, as I have proved to you he does occasionally, he errs +through perverseness, not through unwariness. His language often +settles into clear and most beautiful prose, often takes an imperfect +and incoherent shape of poetry, and often, cloud against cloud, bursts +with a vehement detonation in the air. Diogenes was hated both by the +vulgar and the philosophers. By the philosophers, because he exposed +their ignorance, ridiculed their jealousies, and rebuked their pride: +by the vulgar, because they never can endure a man apparently of their +own class who avoids their society and partakes in none of their +humours, prejudices, and animosities. What right has he to be greater +or better than they are? he who wears older clothes, who eats staler +fish, and possesses no vote to imprison or banish anybody. I am now +ashamed that I mingled in the rabble, and that I could not resist the +childish mischief of smoking him in his tub. He was the wisest man of +his time, not excepting Aristoteles; for he knew that he was greater +than Philip or Alexander. Aristoteles did not know that he himself +was, or knowing it, did not act up to his knowledge; and here is a +deficiency of wisdom. + +_Timotheus._ Whether you did or did not strike the cask, Diogenes +would have closed his eyes equally. He would never have come forth and +seen the truth, had it shone upon the world in that day. But, +intractable as was this recluse, Epicurus, I fear, is quite as +lamentable. What horrible doctrines! + +_Lucian._ Enjoy, said he, the pleasant walks where you are: repose and +eat gratefully the fruit that falls into your bosom: do not weary your +feet with an excursion, at the end whereof you will find no +resting-place: reject not the odour of roses for the fumes of pitch +and sulphur. What horrible doctrines! + +_Timotheus._ Speak seriously. He was much too bad for ridicule. + +_Lucian._ I will then speak as you desire me, seriously. His smile +was so unaffected and so graceful, that I should have thought it very +injudicious to set my laugh against it. No philosopher ever lived with +such uniform purity, such abstinence from censoriousness, from +controversy, from jealousy, and from arrogance. + +_Timotheus._ Ah, poor mortal! I pity him, as far as may be; he is in +hell: it would be wicked to wish him out: we are not to murmur against +the all-wise dispensations. + +_Lucian._ I am sure he would not; and it is therefore I hope he is +more comfortable than you believe. + +_Timotheus._ Never have I defiled my fingers, and never will I defile +them, by turning over his writings. But in regard to Plato, I can have +no objection to take your advice. + +_Lucian._ He will reward your assiduity: but he will assist you very +little if you consult him principally (and eloquence for this should +principally be consulted) to strengthen your humanity. Grandiloquent +and sonorous, his lungs seem to play the better for the absence of the +heart. His imagination is the most conspicuous, buoyed up by swelling +billows over unsounded depths. There are his mild thunders, there are +his glowing clouds, his traversing coruscations, and his shooting +stars. More of true wisdom, more of trustworthy manliness, more of +promptitude and power to keep you steady and straightforward on the +perilous road of life, may be found in the little manual of Epictetus, +which I could write in the palm of my left hand, than there is in all +the rolling and redundant volumes of this mighty rhetorician, which +you may begin to transcribe on the summit of the Great Pyramid, carry +down over the Sphinx at the bottom, and continue on the sands half-way +to Memphis. And indeed the materials are appropriate; one part being +far above our sight, and the other on what, by the most befitting +epithet, Homer calls the _no-corn-bearing_. + +_Timotheus._ There are many who will stand against you on this ground. + +_Lucian._ With what perfect ease and fluency do some of the dullest +men in existence toss over and discuss the most elaborate of all +works! How many myriads of such creatures would be insufficient to +furnish intellect enough for any single paragraph in them! Yet '_we +think this_', '_we advise that_', are expressions now become so +customary, that it would be difficult to turn them into ridicule. We +must pull the creatures out while they are in the very act, and show +who and what they are. One of these fellows said to Caius Fuscus in my +hearing, that there was a time when it was permitted him to doubt +occasionally on particular points of criticism, but that the time was +now over. + +_Timotheus._ And what did you think of such arrogance? What did you +reply to such impertinence? + +_Lucian._ Let me answer one question at a time. First: I thought him a +legitimate fool, of the purest breed. Secondly: I promised him I would +always be contented with the judgment he had rejected, leaving him and +his friends in the enjoyment of the rest. + +_Timotheus._ And what said he? + +_Lucian._ I forget. He seemed pleased at my acknowledgment of his +discrimination, at my deference and delicacy. He wished, however, I +had studied Plato, Xenophon, and Cicero, more attentively; without +which preparatory discipline, no two persons could be introduced +advantageously into a dialogue. I agreed with him on this position, +remarking that we ourselves were at that very time giving our sentence +on the fact. He suggested a slight mistake on my side, and expressed a +wish that he were conversing with a writer able to sustain the +opposite part. With his experience and skill in rhetoric, his long +habitude of composition, his knowledge of life, of morals, and of +character, he should be less verbose than Cicero, less gorgeous than +Plato, and less trimly attired than Xenophon. + +_Timotheus._ If he spoke in that manner, he might indeed be ridiculed +for conceitedness and presumption, but his language is not altogether +a fool's. + +_Lucian._ I deliver his sentiments, not his words: for who would read, +or who would listen to me, if such fell from me as from him? Poetry +has its probabilities, so has prose: when people cry out against the +representation of a dullard, _Could he have spoken all that?_ +'Certainly no,' is the reply: neither did Priam implore, in harmonious +verse, the pity of Achilles. We say only what might be said, when +great postulates are conceded. + +_Timotheus._ We will pretermit these absurd and silly men: but, Cousin +Lucian! Cousin Lucian! the name of Plato will be durable as that of +Sesostris. + +_Lucian._ So will the pebbles and bricks which gangs of slaves erected +into a pyramid. I do not hold Sesostris in much higher estimation than +those quieter lumps of matter. They, O Timotheus, who survive the +wreck of ages, are by no means, as a body, the worthiest of our +admiration. It is in these wrecks, as in those at sea, the best things +are not always saved. Hen-coops and empty barrels bob upon the +surface, under a serene and smiling sky, when the graven or depicted +images of the gods are scattered on invisible rocks, and when those +who most resemble them in knowledge and beneficence are devoured by +cold monsters below. + +_Timotheus._ You now talk reasonably, seriously, almost religiously. +Do you ever pray? + +_Lucian._ I do. It was no longer than five years ago that I was +deprived by death of my dog Melanops. He had uniformly led an innocent +life; for I never would let him walk out with me, lest he should bring +home in his mouth the remnant of some god or other, and at last get +bitten or stung by one. I reminded Anubis of this: and moreover I told +him, what he ought to be aware of, that Melanops did honour to his +relationship. + +_Timotheus._ I cannot ever call it piety to pray for dumb and dead +beasts. + +_Lucian._ Timotheus! Timotheus! have you no heart? have you no dog? do +you always pray only for yourself? + +_Timotheus._ We do not believe that dogs can live again. + +_Lucian._ More shame for you! If they enjoy and suffer, if they hope +and fear, if calamities and wrongs befall them, such as agitate their +hearts and excite their apprehensions; if they possess the option of +being grateful or malicious, and choose the worthier; if they exercise +the same sound judgment on many other occasions, some for their own +benefit and some for the benefit of their masters, they have as good a +chance of a future life, and a better chance of a happy one, than half +the priests of all the religions in the world. Wherever there is the +choice of doing well or ill, and that choice (often against a first +impulse) decides for well, there must not only be a soul of the same +nature as man's, although of less compass and comprehension, but, +being of the same nature, the same immortality must appertain to it; +for spirit, like body, may change, but cannot be annihilated. + +It was among the prejudices of former times that pigs are uncleanly +animals, and fond of wallowing in the mire for mire's sake. Philosophy +has now discovered that when they roll in mud and ordure, it is only +from an excessive love of cleanliness, and a vehement desire to rid +themselves of scabs and vermin. Unfortunately, doubts keep pace with +discoveries. They are like warts, of which the blood that springs from +a great one extirpated, makes twenty little ones. + +_Timotheus._ The Hydra would be a more noble simile. + +_Lucian._ I was indeed about to illustrate my position by the old +Hydra, so ready at hand and so tractable; but I will never take hold +of a hydra, when a wart will serve my turn. + +_Timotheus._ Continue then. + +_Lucian._ Even children are now taught, in despite of Aesop, that +animals never spoke. The uttermost that can be advanced with any show +of confidence is, that if they spoke at all, they spoke in unknown +tongues. Supposing the fact, is this a reason why they should not be +respected? Quite the contrary. If the tongues were unknown, it tends +to demonstrate _our_ ignorance, not _theirs_. If we could not +understand them, while they possessed the gift, here is no proof that +they did not speak to the purpose, but only that it was not to _our_ +purpose; which may likewise be said with equal certainty of the wisest +men that ever existed. How little have we learned from them, for the +conduct of life or the avoidance of calamity! Unknown tongues, indeed! +yes, so are all tongues to the vulgar and the negligent. + +_Timotheus._ It comforts me to hear you talk in this manner, without a +glance at our gifts and privileges. + +_Lucian._ I am less incredulous than you suppose, my cousin! Indeed I +have been giving you what ought to be a sufficient proof of it. + +_Timotheus._ You have spoken with becoming gravity, I must confess. + +_Lucian._ Let me then submit to your judgment some fragments of +history which have lately fallen into my hands. There is among them a +_hymn_, of which the metre is so incondite, and the phraseology so +ancient, that the grammarians have attributed it to Linus. But the +hymn will interest you less, and is less to our purpose, than the +tradition; by which it appears that certain priests of high antiquity +were of the brute creation. + +_Timotheus._ No better, any of them. + +_Lucian._ Now you have polished the palms of your hands, I will +commence my narrative from the manuscript. + +_Timotheus._ Pray do. + +_Lucian._ There existed in the city of Nephosis a fraternity of +priests, reverenced by the appellation of _Gasteres_. It is reported +that they were not always of their present form, but were birds +aquatic and migratory, a species of cormorant. The poet Linus, who +lived nearer the transformation (if there indeed was any), sings thus, +in his Hymn to Zeus: + +'Thy power is manifest, O Zeus! in the Gasteres. Wild birds were they, +strong of talon, clanging of wing, and clamorous of gullet. Wild +birds, O Zeus! wild birds; now cropping the tender grass by the river +of Adonis, and breaking the nascent reed at the root, and depasturing +the sweet nymphaea; now again picking up serpents and other creeping +things on each hand of old Aegyptos, whose head is hidden in the +clouds. + +'Oh that Mnemosyne would command the staidest of her three daughters +to stand and sing before me! to sing clearly and strongly. How before +thy throne, Saturnian! sharp voices arose, even the voices of Here and +of thy children. How they cried out that innumerable mortal men, +various-tongued, kid-roasters in tent and tabernacle, devising in +their many-turning hearts and thoughtful minds how to fabricate +well-rounded spits of beech-tree, how such men having been changed +into brute animals, it behoved thee to trim the balance, and in thy +wisdom to change sundry brute animals into men; in order that they +might pour out flame-coloured wine unto thee, and sprinkle the white +flower of the sea upon the thighs of many bulls, to pleasure thee. +Then didst thou, O storm-driver! overshadow far lands with thy dark +eyebrows, looking down on them, to accomplish thy will. And then didst +thou behold the Gasteres, fat, tall, prominent-crested, purple-legged, +daedal-plumed, white and black, changeable in colour as Iris. And lo! +thou didst will it, and they were men.' + +_Timotheus._ No doubt whatever can be entertained of this hymn's +antiquity. But what farther says the historian? + +_Lucian._ I will read on, to gratify you. + +'It is recorded that this ancient order of a most lordly priesthood +went through many changes of customs and ceremonies, which indeed they +were always ready to accommodate to the maintenance of their authority +and the enjoyment of their riches. It is recorded that, in the +beginning, they kept various tame animals, and some wild ones, within +the precincts of the temple: nevertheless, after a time, they applied +to their own uses everything they could lay their hands on, whatever +might have been the vow of those who came forward with the offering. +And when it was expected of them to make sacrifices, they not only +would make none, but declared it an act of impiety to expect it. Some +of the people, who feared the Immortals, were dismayed and indignant +at this backwardness; and the discontent at last grew universal. +Whereupon, the two chief priests held a long conference together, and +agreed that something must be done to pacify the multitude. But it was +not until the greater of them, acknowledging his despondency, called +on the gods to answer for him that his grief was only because he never +could abide bad precedents: and the other, on his side, protested that +he was overruled by his superior, and moreover had a serious +objection (founded on principle) to be knocked on the head. Meanwhile +the elder was looking down on the folds of his robe, in deep +melancholy. After long consideration, he sprang upon his feet, pushing +his chair behind him, and said, "Well, it is grown old, and was always +too long for me: I am resolved to cut off a finger's breadth." + +'"Having, in your wisdom and piety, well contemplated the bad +precedent," said the other, with much consternation in his countenance +at seeing so elastic a spring in a heel by no means bearing any +resemblance to a stag's.... "I have, I have," replied the other, +interrupting him; "say no more; I am sick at heart; you must do the +same." + +'"A cursed dog has torn a hole in mine," answered the other, "and, if +I cut anywhere about it, I only make bad worse. In regard to its +length, I wish it were as long again." "Brother! brother! never be +worldly-minded," said the senior. "Follow my example: snip off it not +a finger's breadth, half a finger's breadth." + +'"But," expostulated the other, "will that satisfy the gods?" "Who +talked about them?" placidly said the senior. "It is very unbecoming +to have them always in our mouths: surely there are appointed times +for them. Let us be contented with laying the snippings on the altar, +and thus showing the people our piety and condescension. They, and the +gods also, will be just as well satisfied, as if we offered up a +buttock of beef, with a bushel of salt and the same quantity of +wheaten flour on it." + +'"Well, if that will do ... and you know best," replied the other, "so +be it." Saying which words, he carefully and considerately snipped off +as much in proportion (for he was shorter by an inch) as the elder had +done, yet leaving on his shoulders quite enough of materials to make +handsome cloaks for seven or eight stout-built generals. Away they +both went, arm-in-arm, and then holding up their skirts a great deal +higher than was necessary, told the gods what they two had been doing +for them and their glory. About the court of the temple the sacred +swine were lying in indolent composure: seeing which, the brotherly +twain began to commune with themselves afresh: and the senior said +repentantly, "What fools we have been! The populace will laugh +outright at the curtailment of our vestures, but would gladly have +seen these animals eat daily a quarter less of the lentils." The words +were spoken so earnestly and emphatically that they were overheard by +the quadrupeds. Suddenly there was a rising of all the principal ones +in the sacred enclosure: and many that were in the streets took up, +each according to his temperament and condition, the gravest or +shrillest tone of reprobation. The thinner and therefore the more +desperate of the creatures, pushing their snouts under the curtailed +habiliments of the high priests, assailed them with ridicule and +reproach. For it had pleased the gods to work a miracle in their +behoof, and they became as loquacious as those who governed them, and +who were appointed to speak in the high places. "Let the worst come to +the worst, we at least have our tails to our hams," said they. "For +how long?" whined others, piteously: others incessantly ejaculated +tremendous imprecations: others, more serious and sedate, groaned +inwardly; and, although under their hearts there lay a huge mass of +indigestible sourness ready to rise up against the chief priests, they +ventured no farther than expostulation. "We shall lose our voices," +said they, "if we lose our complement of lentils; and then, most +reverend lords, what will ye do for choristers?" Finally, one of grand +dimensions, who seemed almost half-human, imposed silence on every +debater. He lay stretched out apart from his brethren, covering with +his side the greater portion of a noble dunghill, and all its verdure +native and imported. He crushed a few measures of peascods to cool his +tusks; then turned his pleasurable longitudinal eyes far toward the +outer extremities of their sockets, and leered fixedly and +sarcastically at the high priests, showing every tooth in each jaw. +Other men might have feared them; the high priests envied them, seeing +what order they were in, and what exploits they were capable of. A +great painter, who flourished many olympiads ago, has, in his volume +entitled the _Canon_, defined the line of beauty. It was here in its +perfection: it followed with winning obsequiousness every member, but +delighted more especially to swim along that placid and pliant +curvature on which Nature had ranged the implements of mastication. +Pawing with his cloven hoof, he suddenly changed his countenance from +the contemplative to the wrathful. At one effort he rose up to his +whole length, breadth, and height: and they who had never seen him in +earnest, nor separate from the common swine of the enclosure, with +which he was in the habit of husking what was thrown to him, could +form no idea what a prodigious beast he was. Terrible were the +expressions of choler and comminations which burst forth from his +fulminating tusks. Erimanthus would have hidden his puny offspring +before them; and Hercules would have paused at the encounter. Thrice +he called aloud to the high priests: thrice he swore in their own +sacred language that they were a couple of thieves and impostors: +thrice he imprecated the worst maledictions on his own head if they +had not violated the holiest of their vows, and were not ready even to +sell their gods. A tremor ran throughout the whole body of the united +swine; so awful was the adjuration! Even the Gasteres themselves in +some sort shuddered, not perhaps altogether at the solemn tone of its +impiety; for they had much experience in these matters. But among them +was a Gaster who was calmer than the swearer, and more prudent and +conciliating than those he swore against. Hearing this objurgation, he +went blandly up to the sacred porker, and, lifting the flap of his +right ear between forefinger and thumb with all delicacy and +gentleness, thus whispered into it: "You do not in your heart believe +that any of us are such fools as to sell our gods, at least while we +have such a reserve to fall back upon." + +'"Are we to be devoured?" cried the noble porker, twitching his ear +indignantly from under the hand of the monitor. "Hush!" said he, +laying it again, most soothingly, rather farther from the tusks: +"hush! sweet friend! Devoured? Oh, certainly not: that is to say, not +_all_: or, if all, not all at once. Indeed the holy men my brethren +may perhaps be contented with taking a little blood from each of you, +entirely for the advantage of your health and activity, and merely to +compose a few slender black-puddings for the inferior monsters of the +temple, who latterly are grown very exacting, and either are, or +pretend to be, hungry after they have eaten a whole handful of acorns, +swallowing I am ashamed to say what a quantity of water to wash them +down. We do not grudge them it, as they well know: but they appear to +have forgotten how recently no inconsiderable portion of this bounty +has been conferred. If we, as they object to us, eat more, they ought +to be aware that it is by no means for our gratification, since we +have abjured it before the gods, but to maintain the dignity of the +priesthood, and to exhibit the beauty and utility of subordination." + +'The noble porker had beaten time with his muscular tail at many of +these periods; but again his heart panted visibly, and he could bear +no more. + +'"All this for our good! for our activity! for our health! Let us +alone: we have health enough; we want no activity. Let us alone, I say +again, or by the Immortals!..." "Peace, my son! Your breath is +valuable: evidently you have but little to spare: and what mortal +knows how soon the gods may demand the last of it?" + +'At the beginning of this exhortation, the worthy high priest had +somewhat repressed the ebullient choler of his refractory and +pertinacious disciple, by applying his flat soft palm to the +signet-formed extremity of the snout. + +'"We are ready to hear complaints at all times," added he, "and to +redress any grievance at our own. But beyond a doubt, if you continue +to raise your abominable outcries, some of the people are likely to +hit upon two discoveries: first that your lentils would be sufficient +to make daily for every poor family a good wholesome porridge; and +secondly, that your flesh, properly cured, might hang up nicely +against the forthcoming bean-season." Pondering these mighty words, +the noble porker kept his eyes fixed upon him for some instants, then +leaned forward dejectedly, then tucked one foot under him, then +another, cautious to descend with dignity. At last he grunted (it must +for ever be ambiguous whether with despondency or with resignation), +pushed his wedgy snout far within the straw subjacent, and sank into +that repose which is granted to the just.' + +_Timotheus._ Cousin! there are glimmerings of truth and wisdom in +sundry parts of this discourse, not unlike little broken shells +entangled in dark masses of seaweed. But I would rather you had +continued to adduce fresh arguments to demonstrate the beneficence of +the Deity, proving (if you could) that our horses and dogs, faithful +servants and companions to us, and often treated cruelly, may +recognize us hereafter, and we them. We have no authority for any such +belief. + +_Lucian._ We have authority for thinking and doing whatever is humane. +Speaking of humanity, it now occurs to me, I have heard a report that +some well-intentioned men of your religion so interpret the words or +wishes of its Founder, they would abolish slavery throughout the +empire. + +_Timotheus._ Such deductions have been drawn indeed from our Master's +doctrine: but the saner part of us receive it metaphorically, and +would only set men free from the bonds of sin. For if domestic slaves +were manumitted, we should neither have a dinner dressed nor a bed +made, unless by our own children: and as to labour in the fields, who +would cultivate them in this hot climate? We must import slaves from +Ethiopia and elsewhere, wheresoever they can be procured: but the +hardship lies not on them; it lies on us, and bears heavily; for we +must first buy them with our money, and then feed them; and not only +must we maintain them while they are hale and hearty and can serve us, +but likewise in sickness and (unless we can sell them for a trifle) in +decrepitude. Do not imagine, my cousin, that we are no better than +enthusiasts, visionaries, subverters of order, and ready to roll +society down into one flat surface. + +_Lucian._ I thought you were maligned: I said so. + +_Timotheus._ When the subject was discussed in our congregation, the +meaner part of the people were much in favour of the abolition: but +the chief priests and ministers absented themselves, and gave no vote +at all, deeming it secular, and saying that in such matters the laws +and customs of the country ought to be observed. + +_Lucian._ Several of these chief priests and ministers are robed in +purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day. + +_Timotheus._ I have hopes of you now. + +_Lucian._ Why so suddenly? + +_Timotheus._ Because you have repeated those blessed words, which are +only to be found in our Scriptures. + +_Lucian._ There indeed I found them. But I also found in the same +volume words of the same speaker, declaring that the rich shall never +see His face in heaven. + +_Timotheus._ He does not always mean what you think He does. + +_Lucian._ How is this? Did He then direct His discourses to none but +men more intelligent than I am? + +_Timotheus._ Unless He gave you understanding for the occasion, they +might mislead you. + +_Lucian._ Indeed! + +_Timotheus._ Unquestionably. For instance, He tells us to take no heed +of to-morrow: He tells us to share equally all our worldly goods: but +we know that we cannot be respected unless we bestow due care on our +possessions, and that not only the vulgar but the well-educated esteem +us in proportion to the gifts of fortune. + +_Lucian._ The eclectic philosophy is most flourishing among you +Christians. You take whatever suits your appetites, and reject the +rest. + +_Timotheus._ We are not half so rich as the priests of Isis. Give us +their possessions; and we will not sit idle as they do, but be able +and ready to do incalculable good to our fellow-creatures. + +_Lucian._ I have never seen great possessions excite to great +alacrity. Usually they enfeeble the sympathies, and often overlie and +smother them. + +_Timotheus._ Our religion is founded less on sympathies than on +miracles. Cousin! you smile most when you ought to be most serious. + +_Lucian._ I was smiling at the thought of one whom I would recommend +to your especial notice, as soon as you disinherit the priests of +Isis. He may perhaps be refractory; for he pretends (the knave!) to +work miracles. + +_Timotheus._ Impostor! who is he? + +_Lucian._ Aulus of Pelusium. Idle and dissolute, he never gained +anything honestly but a scourging, if indeed he ever made, what he +long merited, this acquisition. Unable to run into debt where he was +known, he came over to Alexandria. + +_Timotheus._ I know him: I know him well. Here, of his own accord, he +has betaken himself to a new and regular life. + +_Lucian._ He will presently wear it out, or make it sit easier on his +shoulders. My metaphor brings me to my story. Having nothing to carry +with him beside an empty valise, he resolved on filling it with +something, however worthless, lest, seeing his utter destitution, and +hopeless of payment, a receiver of lodgers should refuse to admit him +into the hostelry. Accordingly, he went to a tailor's, and began to +joke about his poverty. Nothing is more apt to bring people into good +humour; for, if they are poor themselves, they enjoy the pleasure of +discovering that others are no better off; and, if not poor, there is +the consciousness of superiority. + +'The favour I am about to ask of a man so wealthy and so liberal as +you are,' said Aulus, 'is extremely small: you can materially serve +me, without the slightest loss, hazard, or inconvenience. In few +words, my valise is empty: and to some ears an empty valise is louder +and more discordant than a bagpipe: I cannot say I like the sound of +it myself. Give me all the shreds and snippings you can spare me. They +will feel like clothes; not exactly so to me and my person, but to +those who are inquisitive, and who may be importunate.' + +The tailor laughed, and distended both arms of Aulus with his +munificence. Soon was the valise well filled and rammed down. Plenty +of boys were in readiness to carry it to the boat. Aulus waved them +off, looking at some angrily, at others suspiciously. Boarding the +skiff, he lowered his treasure with care and caution, staggering a +little at the weight, and shaking it gently on deck, with his ear +against it: and then, finding all safe and compact, he sat on it; but +as tenderly as a pullet on her first eggs. When he was landed, his +care was even greater, and whoever came near him was warned off with +loud vociferations. Anxiously as the other passengers were invited by +the innkeepers to give their houses the preference, Aulus was +importuned most: the others were only beset; he was borne off in +triumphant captivity. He ordered a bedroom, and carried his valise +with him; he ordered a bath, and carried with him his valise. He +started up from the company at dinner, struck his forehead, and cried +out, 'Where is my valise?' 'We are honest men here,' replied the host. +'You have left it, sir, in your chamber: where else indeed should you +leave it?' + +'Honesty is seated on your brow,' exclaimed Aulus; 'but there are few +to be trusted in the world we live in. I now believe I can eat.' And +he gave a sure token of the belief that was in him, not without a +start now and then and a finger at his ear, as if he heard somebody +walking in the direction of his bedchamber. Now began his first +miracle: for now he contrived to pick up, from time to time, a little +money. In the presence of his host and fellow-lodgers, he threw a few +obols, negligently and indifferently, among the beggars. 'These poor +creatures,' said he, 'know a new-comer as well as the gnats do: in one +half-hour I am half ruined by them; and this daily.' + +Nearly a month had elapsed since his arrival, and no account of board +and lodging had been delivered or called for. Suspicion at length +arose in the host whether he really was rich. When another man's +honesty is doubted, the doubter's is sometimes in jeopardy. The host +was tempted to unsew the valise. To his amazement and horror he found +only shreds within it. However, he was determined to be cautious, and +to consult his wife, who, although a Christian like Aulus, and much +edified by his discourses, might dissent from him in regard to a +community of goods, at least in her own household, and might defy him +to prove by any authority that the doctrine was meant for innkeepers. +Aulus, on his return in the evening, found out that his valise had +been opened. He hurried back, threw its contents into the canal, and, +borrowing an old cloak, he tucked it up under his dress, and returned. +Nobody had seen him enter or come back again, nor was it immediately +that his host or hostess were willing to appear. But, after he had +called them loudly for some time, they entered his apartment: and he +thus addressed the woman: + +'O Eucharis! no words are requisite to convince you (firm as you are +in the faith) of eternal verities, however mysterious. But your +unhappy husband has betrayed his incredulity in regard to the most +awful. If my prayers, offered up in our holy temples all day long, +have been heard, and that they have been heard I feel within me the +blessed certainty, something miraculous has been vouchsafed for the +conversion of this miserable sinner. Until the present hour, the +valise before you was filled with precious relics from the apparel of +saints and martyrs, fresh as when on them.' 'True, by Jove!' said the +husband to himself. 'Within the present hour,' continued Aulus, 'they +are united into one raiment, signifying our own union, our own +restoration.' + +He drew forth the cloak, and fell on his face. Eucharis fell also, and +kissed the saintly head prostrate before her. The host's eyes were +opened, and he bewailed his hardness of heart. Aulus is now occupied +in strengthening his faith, not without an occasional support to the +wife's: all three live together in unity. + +_Timotheus._ And do you make a joke even of this? Will you never cease +from the habitude? + +_Lucian._ Too soon. The farther we descend into the vale of years, the +fewer illusions accompany us: we have little inclination, little time, +for jocularity and laughter. Light things are easily detached from us, +and we shake off heavier as we can. Instead of levity, we are liable +to moroseness: for always near the grave there are more briers than +flowers, unless we plant them ourselves, or our friends supply them. + +_Timotheus._ Thinking thus, do you continue to dissemble or to distort +the truth? The shreds are become a cable for the faithful. That they +were miraculously turned into one entire garment who shall gainsay? +How many hath it already clothed with righteousness? Happy men, +casting their doubts away before it! Who knows, O Cousin Lucian, but +on some future day you yourself will invoke the merciful interposition +of Aulus! + +_Lucian._ Possibly: for if ever I fall among thieves, nobody is +likelier to be at the head of them. + +_Timotheus._ Uncharitable man! how suspicious! how ungenerous! how +hardened in unbelief! Reason is a bladder on which you may paddle like +a child as you swim in summer waters: but, when the winds rise and the +waves roughen, it slips from under you, and you sink; yes, O Lucian, +you sink into a gulf whence you never can emerge. + +_Lucian._ I deem those the wisest who exert the soonest their own +manly strength, now with the stream and now against it, enjoying the +exercise in fine weather, venturing out in foul, if need be, yet +avoiding not only rocks and whirlpools, but also shallows. In such a +light, my cousin, I look on your dispensations. I shut them out as we +shut out winds blowing from the desert; hot, debilitating, oppressive, +laden with impalpable sands and pungent salts, and inflicting an +incurable blindness. + +_Timotheus._ Well, Cousin Lucian! I can bear all you say while you are +not witty. Let me bid you farewell in this happy interval. + +_Lucian._ Is it not serious and sad, O my cousin, that what the Deity +hath willed to lie incomprehensible in His mysteries, we should fall +upon with tooth and nail, and ferociously growl over, or ignorantly +dissect? + +_Timotheus._ Ho! now you come to be serious and sad, there are hopes +of you. Truth always begins or ends so. + +_Lucian._ Undoubtedly. But I think it more reverential to abstain from +that which, with whatever effort, I should never understand. + +_Timotheus._ You are lukewarm, my cousin, you are lukewarm. A most +dangerous state. + +_Lucian._ For milk to continue in, not for men. I would not fain be +frozen or scalded. + +_Timotheus._ Alas! you are blind, my sweet cousin! + +_Lucian._ Well; do not open my eyes with pincers, nor compose for them +a collyrium of spurge. + +May not men eat and drink and talk together, and perform in relation +one to another all the duties of social life, whose opinions are +different on things immediately under their eyes? If they can and do, +surely they may as easily on things equally above the comprehension of +each party. The wisest and most virtuous man in the whole extent of +the Roman Empire is Plutarch of Cheronaea: yet Plutarch holds a firm +belief in the existence of I know not how many gods, every one of whom +has committed notorious misdemeanours. The nearest to the Cheronaean +in virtue and wisdom is Trajan, who holds all the gods dog-cheap. +These two men are friends. If either of them were influenced by your +religion, as inculcated and practised by the priesthood, he would be +the enemy of the other, and wisdom and virtue would plead for the +delinquent in vain. When your religion had existed, as you tell us, +about a century, Caius Caecilius, of Novum Comum, was proconsul in +Bithynia. Trajan, the mildest and most equitable of mankind, desirous +to remove from them, as far as might be, the hatred and invectives of +those whose old religion was assailed by them, applied to Caecilius +for information on their behaviour as good citizens. The reply of +Caecilius was favourable. Had Trajan applied to the most eminent and +authoritative of the sect, they would certainly have brought into +jeopardy all who differed in one tittle from any point of their +doctrine or discipline. For the thorny and bitter aloe of dissension +required less than a century to flower on the steps of your temple. + +_Timotheus._ You are already half a Christian, in exposing to the +world the vanities both of philosophy and of power. + +_Lucian._ I have done no such thing: I have exposed the vanities of +the philosophizing and the powerful. Philosophy is admirable; and +Power may be glorious: the one conduces to truth, the other has nearly +all the means of conferring peace and happiness, but it usually, and +indeed almost always, takes a contrary direction. I have ridiculed the +futility of speculative minds, only when they would pave the clouds +instead of the streets. To see distant things better than near is a +certain proof of a defective sight. The people I have held in derision +never turn their eyes to what they can see, but direct them +continually where nothing is to be seen. And this, by their disciples, +is called the sublimity of speculation! There is little merit +acquired, or force exhibited, in blowing off a feather that would +settle on my nose: and this is all I have done in regard to the +philosophers: but I claim for myself the approbation of humanity, in +having shown the true dimensions of the great. The highest of them are +no higher than my tunic; but they are high enough to trample on the +necks of those wretches who throw themselves on the ground before +them. + +_Timotheus._ Was Alexander of Macedon no higher? + +_Lucian._ What region of the earth, what city, what theatre, what +library, what private study, hath he enlightened? If you are silent, I +may well be. It is neither my philosophy nor your religion which casts +the blood and bones of men in their faces, and insists on the most +reverence for those who have made the most unhappy. If the Romans +scourged by the hands of children the schoolmaster who would have +betrayed them, how greatly more deserving of flagellation, from the +same quarter, are those hundreds of pedagogues who deliver up the +intellects of youth to such immoral revellers and mad murderers! They +would punish a thirsty child for purloining a bunch of grapes from a +vineyard, and the same men on the same day would insist on his +reverence for the subverter of Tyre, the plunderer of Babylon, and the +incendiary of Persepolis. And are these men teachers? are these men +philosophers? are these men priests? Of all the curses that ever +afflicted the earth, I think Alexander was the worst. Never was he in +so little mischief as when he was murdering his friends. + +_Timotheus._ Yet he built this very city; a noble and opulent one when +Rome was of hurdles and rushes. + +_Lucian._ He built it! I wish, O Timotheus! he had been as well +employed as the stone-cutters or the plasterers. No, no: the wisest of +architects planned the most beautiful and commodious of cities, by +which, under a rational government and equitable laws, Africa might +have been civilized to the centre, and the palm have extended her +conquests through the remotest desert. Instead of which, a dozen of +Macedonian thieves rifled a dying drunkard and murdered his children. +In process of time, another drunkard reeled hitherward from Rome, made +an easy mistake in mistaking a palace for a brothel, permitted a +stripling boy to beat him soundly, and a serpent to receive the last +caresses of his paramour. + +Shame upon historians and pedagogues for exciting the worst passions +of youth by the display of such false glories! If your religion hath +any truth or influence, her professors will extinguish the promontory +lights, which only allure to breakers. They will be assiduous in +teaching the young and ardent that great abilities do not constitute +great men, without the right and unremitting application of them; and +that, in the sight of Humanity and Wisdom, it is better to erect one +cottage than to demolish a hundred cities. Down to the present day we +have been taught little else than falsehood. We have been told to do +this thing and that: we have been told we shall be punished unless we +do: but at the same time we are shown by the finger that prosperity +and glory, and the esteem of all about us, rest upon other and very +different foundations. Now, do the ears or the eyes seduce the most +easily and lead the most directly to the heart? But both eyes and ears +are won over, and alike are persuaded to corrupt us. + +_Timotheus._ Cousin Lucian, I was leaving you with the strangest of +all notions in my head. I began to think for a moment that you doubted +my sincerity in the religion I profess; and that a man of your +admirable good sense, and at your advanced age, could reject that only +sustenance which supports us through the grave into eternal life. + +_Lucian._ I am the most docile and practicable of men, and never +reject what people set before me: for if it is bread, it is good for +my own use; if bone or bran, it will do for my dog or mule. But, +although you know my weakness and facility, it is unfair to expect I +should have admitted at once what the followers and personal friends +of your Master for a long time hesitated to receive. I remember to +have read in one of the early commentators, that His disciples +themselves could not swallow the miracle of the loaves; and one who +wrote more recently says, that even His brethren did not believe in +Him. + +_Timotheus._ Yet, finally, when they have looked over each other's +accounts, they cast them up, and make them all tally in the main sum; +and if one omits an article, the next supplies its place with a +commodity of the same value. What would you have? But it is of little +use to argue on religion with a man who, professing his readiness to +believe, and even his credulity, yet disbelieves in miracles. + +_Lucian._ I should be obstinate and perverse if I disbelieved in the +existence of a thing for no better reason than because I never saw it, +and cannot understand its operations. Do you believe, O Timotheus, +that Perictione, the mother of Plato, became his mother by the sole +agency of Apollo's divine spirit, under the phantasm of that god? + +_Timotheus._ I indeed believe such absurdities? + +_Lucian._ You touch me on a vital part if you call an absurdity the +religion or philosophy in which I was educated. Anaxalides, and +Clearagus, and Speusippus, his own nephew, assert it. Who should know +better than they? + +_Timotheus._ Where are their proofs? + +_Lucian._ I would not be so indelicate as to require them on such an +occasion. A short time ago I conversed with an old centurion, who was +in service by the side of Vespasian, when Titus, and many officers and +soldiers of the army, and many captives, were present, and who saw one +Eleazar put a ring to the nostril of a demoniac (as the patient was +called) and draw the demon out of it. + +_Timotheus._ And do you pretend to believe this nonsense? + +_Lucian._ I only believe that Vespasian and Titus had nothing to gain +or accomplish by the miracle; and that Eleazar, if he had been +detected in a trick by two acute men and several thousand enemies, had +nothing to look forward to but a cross--the only piece of upholstery +for which Judea seems to have either wood or workmen, and which are +as common in that country as direction-posts are in any other. + +_Timotheus._ The Jews are a stiff-necked people. + +_Lucian._ On such occasions, no doubt. + +_Timotheus._ Would you, O Lucian, be classed among the atheists, like +Epicurus? + +_Lucian._ It lies not at my discretion what name shall be given me at +present or hereafter, any more than it did at my birth. But I wonder +at the ignorance and precipitancy of those who call Epicurus an +atheist. He saw on the same earth with himself a great variety of +inferior creatures, some possessing more sensibility and more +thoughtfulness than others. Analogy would lead so contemplative a +reasoner to the conclusion that if many were inferior and in sight, +others might be superior and out of sight. He never disbelieved in the +existence of the gods; he only disbelieved that they troubled their +heads with our concerns. Have they none of their own? If they are +happy, does their happiness depend on us, comparatively so imbecile +and vile? He believed, as nearly all nations do, in different ranks +and orders of superhuman beings; and perhaps he thought (but I never +was in his confidence or counsels) that the higher were rather in +communication with the next to them in intellectual faculties, than +with the most remote. To me the suggestion appears by no means +irrational, that if we are managed or cared for at all by beings wiser +than ourselves (which in truth would be no sign of any great wisdom in +them), it can only be by such as are very far from perfection, and who +indulge us in the commission of innumerable faults and follies, for +their own speculation or amusement. + +_Timotheus._ There is only one such; and he is the devil. + +_Lucian._ If he delights in our wickedness, which you believe, he must +be incomparably the happiest of beings, which you do not believe. No +god of Epicurus rests his elbow on his armchair with less energetic +exertion or discomposure. + +_Timotheus._ We lead holier and purer lives than such ignorant mortals +as are not living under Grace. + +_Lucian._ I also live under Grace, O Timotheus! and I venerate her for +the pleasures I have received at her hands. I do not believe she has +quite deserted me. If my grey hairs are unattractive to her, and if +the trace of her fingers is lost in the wrinkles of my forehead, still +I sometimes am told it is discernible even on the latest and coldest +of my writings. + +_Timotheus._ You are wilful in misapprehension. The Grace of which I +speak is adverse to pleasure and impurity. + +_Lucian._ Rightly do you separate impurity and pleasure, which indeed +soon fly asunder when the improvident would unite them. But never +believe that tenderness of heart signifies corruption of morals, if +you happen to find it (which indeed is unlikely) in the direction you +have taken; on the contrary, no two qualities are oftener found +together, on mind as on matter, than hardness and lubricity. + +Believe me, Cousin Timotheus, when we come to eighty years of age we +are all Essenes. In our kingdom of heaven there is no marrying or +giving in marriage; and austerity in ourselves, when Nature holds over +us the sharp instrument with which Jupiter operated on Saturn, makes +us austere to others. But how happens it that you, both old and young, +break every bond which connected you anciently with the Essenes? Not +only do you marry (a height of wisdom to which I never have attained, +although in others I commend it), but you never share your substance +with the poorest of your community, as they did, nor live simply and +frugally, nor purchase nor employ slaves, nor refuse rank and offices +in the State, nor abstain from litigation, nor abominate and execrate +the wounds and cruelties of war. The Essenes did all this, and greatly +more, if Josephus and Philo, whose political and religious tenets are +opposite to theirs, are credible and trustworthy. + +_Timotheus._ Doubtless you would also wish us to retire into the +desert, and eschew the conversation of mankind. + +_Lucian._ No, indeed; but I would wish the greater part of your people +to eschew mine, for they bring all the worst of the desert with them +whenever they enter; its smothering heats, its blinding sands, its +sweeping suffocation. Return to the pure spirit of the Essenes, +without their asceticism; cease from controversy, and drop party +designations. If you will not do this, do less, and be merely what you +profess to be, which is quite enough for an honest, a virtuous, and a +religious man. + +_Timotheus._ Cousin Lucian, I did not come hither to receive a lecture +from you. + +_Lucian._ I have often given a dinner to a friend who did not come to +dine with me. + +_Timotheus._ Then, I trust, you gave him something better for dinner +than bay-salt and dandelions. If you will not assist us in nettling +our enemies a little for their absurdities and impositions, let me +entreat you, however, to let us alone, and to make no remarks on us. +I myself run into no extravagances, like the Essenes, washing and +fasting, and retiring into solitude. I am not called to them; when I +am, I go. + +_Lucian._ I am apprehensive the Lord may afflict you with deafness in +that ear. + +_Timotheus._ Nevertheless, I am indifferent to the world, and all +things in it. This, I trust, you will acknowledge to be true religion +and true philosophy. + +_Lucian._ That is not philosophy which betrays an indifference to +those for whose benefit philosophy was designed; and those are the +whole human race. But I hold it to be the most unphilosophical thing +in the world to call away men from useful occupations and mutual help, +to profitless speculations and acrid controversies. Censurable enough, +and contemptible, too, is that supercilious philosopher, sneeringly +sedate, who narrates in full and flowing periods the persecutions and +tortures of a fellow-man, led astray by his credulity, and ready to +die in the assertion of what in his soul he believes to be the truth. +But hardly less censurable, hardly less contemptible, is the +tranquilly arrogant sectarian, who denies that wisdom or honesty can +exist beyond the limits of his own ill-lighted chamber. + +_Timotheus._ What! is he sanguinary? + +_Lucian._ Whenever he can be, he is; and he always has it in his power +to be even worse than that, for he refuses his custom to the +industrious and honest shopkeeper who has been taught to think +differently from himself in matters which he has had no leisure to +study, and by which, if he had enjoyed that leisure, he would have +been a less industrious and a less expert artificer. + +_Timotheus._ We cannot countenance those hard-hearted men who refuse +to hear the word of the Lord. + +_Lucian._ The hard-hearted knowing this of the tender-hearted, and +receiving the declaration from their own lips, will refuse to hear the +word of the Lord all their lives. + +_Timotheus._ Well, well; it cannot be helped. I see, cousin, my hopes +of obtaining a little of your assistance in your own pleasant way are +disappointed; but it is something to have conceived a better hope of +saving your soul, from your readiness to acknowledge your belief in +miracles. + +_Lucian._ Miracles have existed in all ages and in all religions. +Witnesses to some of them have been numerous; to others of them fewer. +Occasionally, the witnesses have been disinterested in the result. + +_Timotheus._ Now indeed you speak truly and wisely. + +_Lucian._ But sometimes the most honest and the most quiescent have +either been unable or unwilling to push themselves so forward as to +see clearly and distinctly the whole of the operation; and have +listened to some knave who felt a pleasure in deluding their +credulity, or some other who himself was either an enthusiast or a +dupe. It also may have happened in the ancient religions, of Egypt for +instance, or of India, or even of Greece, that narratives have been +attributed to authors who never heard of them; and have been +circulated by honest men who firmly believed them; by half-honest, who +indulged their vanity in becoming members of a novel and bustling +society; and by utterly dishonest, who, having no other means of +rising above the shoulders of the vulgar, threw dust into their eyes +and made them stoop. + +_Timotheus._ Ha! the rogues! It is nearly all over with them. + +_Lucian._ Let us hope so. Parthenius and the Roman poet Ovidius Naso, +have related the transformations of sundry men, women, and gods. + +_Timotheus._ Idleness! Idleness! I never read such lying authors. + +_Lucian._ I myself have seen enough to incline me toward a belief in +them. + +_Timotheus._ You? Why! you have always been thought an utter infidel; +and now you are running, hot and heedless as any mad dog, to the +opposite extreme! + +_Lucian._ I have lived to see, not indeed one man, but certainly one +animal turned into another; nay, great numbers. I have seen sheep with +the most placid faces in the morning, one nibbling the tender herb +with all its dew upon it; another, negligent of its own sustenance, +and giving it copiously to the tottering lamb aside it. + +_Timotheus._ How pretty! half poetical! + +_Lucian._ In the heat of the day I saw the very same sheep tearing off +each other's fleeces with long teeth and longer claws, and imitating +so admirably the howl of wolves, that at last the wolves came down on +them in a body, and lent their best assistance at the general +devouring. What is more remarkable, the people of the villages seemed +to enjoy the sport; and, instead of attacking the wolves, waited until +they had filled their stomachs, ate the little that was left, said +piously and from the bottom of their hearts what you call _grace_, and +went home singing and piping. + + + + +BISHOP SHIPLEY AND BENJAMIN FRANKLIN + + +_Shipley._ There are very few men, even in the bushes and the +wilderness, who delight in the commission of cruelty; but nearly all, +throughout the earth, are censurable for the admission. When we see a +blow struck, we go on and think no more about it: yet every blow aimed +at the most distant of our fellow-creatures, is sure to come back, +some time or other, to our families and descendants. He who lights a +fire in one quarter is ignorant to what other the winds may carry it, +and whether what is kindled in the wood may not break out again in the +cornfield. + +_Franklin._ If we could restrain but one generation from deeds of +violence, the foundation for a new and a more graceful edifice of +society would not only have been laid, but would have been +consolidated. + +_Shipley._ We already are horrified at the bare mention of religious +wars; we should then be horrified at the mention of political. Why +should they who, when they are affronted or offended, abstain from +inflicting blows, some from a sense of decorousness and others from a +sense of religion, be forward to instigate the infliction of ten +thousand, all irremediable, all murderous? Every chief magistrate +should be arbitrator and umpire in all differences between any two, +forbidding war. Much would be added to the dignity of the most +powerful king by rendering him an efficient member of such a grand +Amphictyonic council. Unhappily they are persuaded in childhood that a +reign is made glorious by a successful war. What schoolmaster ever +taught a boy to question it? or indeed any point of political +morality, or any incredible thing in history? Caesar and Alexander are +uniformly clement: Themistocles died by a draught of bull's blood: +Portia by swallowing red-hot pieces of charcoal. + +_Franklin._ Certainly no woman or man could perform either of these +feats. In my opinion it lies beyond a doubt that Portia suffocated +herself by the fumes of charcoal; and that the Athenian, whose stomach +must have been formed on the model of other stomachs, and must +therefore have rejected a much less quantity of blood than would have +poisoned him, died by some chemical preparation, of which a bull's +blood might, or might not, have been part. Schoolmasters who thus +betray their trust, ought to be scourged by their scholars, like him +of their profession who underwent the just indignation of the Roman +Consul. You shut up those who are infected with the plague; why do you +lay no coercion on those who are incurably possessed by the legion +devil of carnage? When a creature is of intellect so perverted that he +can discern no difference between a review and a battle, between the +animating bugle and the dying groan, it were expedient to remove him, +as quietly as may be, from his devastation of God's earth and his +usurpation of God's authority. Compassion points out the cell for him +at the bottom of the hospital, and listens to hear the key turned in +the ward: until then the house is insecure. + +_Shipley._ God grant our rulers wisdom, and our brethren peace! + +_Franklin._ Here are but indifferent specimens and tokens. Those +fellows throw stones pretty well: if they practise much longer, they +will hit us: let me entreat you, my lord, to leave me here. So long as +the good people were contented with hooting and shouting at us, no +great harm was either done or apprehended: but now they are beginning +to throw stones, perhaps they may prove themselves more dexterous in +action than their rulers have done latterly in council. + +_Shipley._ Take care, Doctor Franklin! _That_ was very near being the +philosopher's stone. + +_Franklin._ Let me pick it up, then, and send it to London by the +diligence. But I am afraid your ministers, and the nation at large, +are as little in the way of wealth as of wisdom, in the experiment +they are making. + +_Shipley._ While I was attending to you, William had started. Look! he +has reached them: they are listening to him. Believe me, he has all +the courage of an Englishman and of a Christian; and, if the stoutest +of them force him to throw off his new black coat, the blusterer would +soon think it better to have listened to less polemical doctrine. + +_Franklin._ Meantime a few of the town boys are come nearer, and begin +to grow troublesome. I am sorry to requite your hospitality with such +hard fare. + +_Shipley._ True, these young bakers make their bread very gritty, but +we must partake of it together so long as you are with us. + +_Franklin._ Be pleased, my lord, to give us grace; our repast is over; +this is my boat. + +_Shipley._ We will accompany you as far as to the ship. Thank God! we +are now upon the water, and all safe. Give me your hand, my good +Doctor Franklin! and although you have failed in the object of your +mission, yet the intention will authorize me to say, in the holy words +of our Divine Redeemer, Blessed are the peacemakers! + +_Franklin._ My dear lord! if God ever blessed a man at the +intercession of another, I may reasonably and confidently hope in such +a benediction. Never did one arise from a warmer, a tenderer, or a +purer heart. + +_Shipley._ Infatuation! that England should sacrifice to her king so +many thousands of her bravest men, and ruin so many thousands of her +most industrious, in a vain attempt to destroy the very principles on +which her strength and her glory are founded! The weakest prince that +ever sat upon a throne, and the most needy and sordid Parliament that +ever pandered to distempered power, are thrusting our blindfold nation +from the pinnacle of prosperity. + +_Franklin._ I believe _your_ king (from this moment it is permitted me +to call him _ours_ no longer) to be as honest and as wise a man as any +of those about him: but unhappily he can see no difference between a +review and a battle. Such are the optics of most kings and rulers. His +Parliament, in both Houses, acts upon calculation. There is hardly a +family, in either, that does not anticipate the clear profit of +several thousands a year, to itself and its connexions. Appointments +to regiments and frigates raise the price of papers; and forfeited +estates fly confusedly about, and darken the air from the Thames to +the Atlantic. + +_Shipley._ It is lamentable to think that war, bringing with it every +species of human misery, should become a commercial speculation. Bad +enough when it arises from revenge; another word for honour. + +_Franklin._ A strange one indeed! but not more strange than fifty +others that come under the same title. Wherever there is nothing of +religion, nothing of reason, nothing of truth, we come at once to +honour; and here we draw the sword, dispense with what little of +civilization we ever pretended to, and murder or get murdered, as may +happen. But these ceremonials both begin and end with an appeal to +God, who, before we appealed to Him, plainly told us we should do no +such thing, and that He would punish us most severely if we did. And +yet, my lord, even the gentlemen upon your bench turn a deaf ear to +Him on these occasions: nay, they go further; they pray to Him for +success in that which He has forbidden so strictly, and when they have +broken His commandment, thank Him. Upon seeing these mockeries and +impieties age after age repeated, I have asked myself whether the +depositaries and expounders of religion have really any whatever of +their own; or rather, like the lawyers, whether they do not defend +professionally a cause that otherwise does not interest them in the +least. Surely, if these holy men really believed in a just retributive +God, they would never dare to utter the word _war_, without horror and +deprecation. + +_Shipley._ Let us attribute to infirmity what we must else attribute +to wickedness. + +_Franklin._ Willingly would I: but children are whipped severely for +inobservance of things less evident, for disobedience of commands less +audible and less awful. I am loath to attribute cruelty to your order: +men so entirely at their ease have seldom any. Certain I am that +several of the bishops would not have patted Cain upon the back while +he was about to kill Abel; and my wonder is that the very same holy +men encourage their brothers in England to kill their brothers in +America; not one, not two nor three, but thousands, many thousands. + +_Shipley._ I am grieved at the blindness with which God has afflicted +us for our sins. These unhappy men are little aware what combustibles +they are storing under the Church, and how soon they may explode. Even +the wisest do not reflect on the most important and the most certain +of things; which is, that every act of inhumanity and injustice goes +far beyond what is apparent at the time of its commission; that these, +and all other things, have their consequences; and that the +consequences are infinite and eternal. If this one truth alone could +be deeply impressed upon the hearts of men, it would regenerate the +whole human race. + +_Franklin._ In regard to politics, I am not quite certain whether a +politician may not be too far-sighted: but I am quite certain that, if +it be a fault, it is one into which few have fallen. The policy of the +Romans in the time of the republic, seems to have been prospective. +Some of the Dutch also, and of the Venetians, used the telescope. But +in monarchies the prince, not the people, is consulted by the minister +of the day; and what pleases the weakest supersedes what is approved +by the wisest. + +_Shipley._ We have had great statesmen: Burleigh, Cromwell, +Marlborough, Somers: and whatever may have been in the eyes of a +moralist the vices of Walpole, none ever understood more perfectly, or +pursued more steadily, the direct and palpable interests of the +country. Since his administration, our affairs have never been managed +by men of business; and it was more than could have been expected +that, in our war against the French in Canada, the appointment fell on +an able commander. + +_Franklin._ Such an anomaly is unlikely to recur. You have in the +English Parliament (I speak of both Houses) only two great men; only +two considerate and clear-sighted politicians; Chatham and Burke. +Three or four can say clever things; several have sonorous voices; +many vibrate sharp comminations from the embrasures of portentously +slit sleeves; and there are those to be found who deliver their +oracles out of wigs as worshipful as the curls of Jupiter, however +they may be grumbled at by the flour-mills they have laid under such +heavy contribution; yet nearly all of all parties want alike the +sagacity to discover that in striking America you shake Europe; that +kings will come out of the war either to be victims or to be despots; +and that within a quarter of a century they will be hunted down like +vermin by the most servile nations, or slain in their palaces by their +own courtiers. In a peace of twenty years you might have paid off the +greater part of your National Debt, indeed as much of it as it would +be expedient to discharge, and you would have left your old enemy +France labouring and writhing under the intolerable and increasing +weight of hers. This is the only way in which you can ever quite +subdue her; and in this you subdue her without a blow, without a +menace, and without a wrong. As matters now stand, you are calling her +from attending to the corruptions of her court, and inviting her from +bankruptcy to glory. + +_Shipley._ I see not how bankruptcy can be averted by the expenditure +of war. + +_Franklin._ It cannot. But war and glory are the same thing to France, +and she sings as shrilly and as gaily after a beating as before. With +a subsidy to a less amount than she has lately been accustomed to +squander in six weeks, and with no more troops than would garrison a +single fortress, she will enable us to set you at defiance, and to do +you a heavier injury in two campaigns than she has been able to do in +two centuries, although your king was in her pay against you. She will +instantly be our ally, and soon our scholar. Afterward she will sell +her crown jewels and her church jewels, which cover the whole kingdom, +and will derive unnatural strength from her vices and her profligacy. +You ought to have conciliated us as your ally, and to have had no +other, excepting Holland and Denmark. England could never have, unless +by her own folly, more than one enemy. Only one is near enough to +strike her; and that one is down. All her wars for six hundred years +have not done this; and the first trumpet will untrance her. You leave +your house open to incendiaries while you are running after a +refractory child. Had you laid down the rod, the child would have come +back. And because he runs away from the rod, you take up the poker. +Seriously, what means do you possess of enforcing your unjust claims +and insolent authority? Never since the Norman Conquest had you an +army so utterly inefficient, or generals so notoriously unskilful: no, +not even in the reign of that venal traitor, that French stipendiary, +the second Charles. Those were yet living who had fought bravely for +his father, and those also who had vanquished him: and Victory still +hovered over the mast that had borne the banners of our Commonwealth: +_ours_, _ours_, my lord! the word is the right word here. + +_Shipley._ I am depressed in spirit, and can sympathize but little in +your exultation. All the crimes of Nero and Caligula are less +afflicting to humanity, and consequently we may suppose will bring +down on the offenders a less severe retribution, than an unnecessary +and unjust war. And yet the authors and abettors of this most grievous +among our earthly calamities, the enactors and applauders (on how vast +a theatre!) of the first and greatest crime committed upon earth, are +quiet complacent creatures, jovial at dinner, hearty at breakfast, and +refreshed with sleep! Nay, the prime movers in it are called most +religious and most gracious; and the hand that signs in cold blood the +death-warrant of nations, is kissed by the kind-hearted, and confers +distinction upon the brave! The prolongation of a life that shortens +so many others, is prayed for by the conscientious and the pious! +Learning is inquisitive in the research of phrases to celebrate him +who has conferred such blessings, and the eagle of genius holds the +thunderbolt by his throne! Philosophy, O my friend, has hitherto done +little for the social state; and Religion has nearly all her work to +do! She too hath but recently washed her hands from blood, and stands +neutrally by, yes, worse than neutrally, while others shed it. I am +convinced that no day of my life will be so censured by my own +clergy, as this, the day on which the last hopes of peace have +abandoned us, and the only true minister of it is pelted from our +shores. Farewell, until better times! may the next generation be +wiser! and wiser it surely will be, for the lessons of Calamity are +far more impressive than those which repudiated Wisdom would have +taught. + +_Franklin._ Folly hath often the same results as Wisdom: but Wisdom +would not engage in her schoolroom so expensive an assistant as +Calamity. There are, however, some noisy and unruly children whom she +alone has the method of rendering tame and tractable: perhaps it may +be by setting them to their tasks both sore and supperless. The ship +is getting under weigh. Adieu once more, my most reverend and noble +friend! Before me in imagination do I see America, beautiful as Leda +in her infant smiles, when her father Jove first raised her from the +earth; and behind me I leave England, hollow, unsubstantial, and +broken, as the shell she burst from. + +_Shipley._ O worst of miseries, when it is impiety to pray that our +country may be successful. Farewell! may every good attend you! with +as little of evil to endure or to inflict, as national sins can expect +from the Almighty. + + + + +SOUTHEY AND LANDOR + + +_Southey._ Of all the beautiful scenery round King's Weston the view +from this terrace, and especially from this sundial, is the +pleasantest. + +_Landor._ The last time I ever walked hither in company (which, unless +with ladies, I rarely have done anywhere) was with a just, a valiant, +and a memorable man, Admiral Nichols, who usually spent his summer +months at the village of Shirehampton, just below us. There, whether +in the morning or evening, it was seldom I found him otherwise engaged +than in cultivating his flowers. + +_Southey._ I never had the same dislike to company in my walks and +rambles as you profess to have, but of which I perceived no sign +whatever when I visited you, first at Llanthony Abbey and afterward +on the Lake of Como. Well do I remember our long conversations in the +silent and solitary church of Sant' Abondio (surely the coolest spot +in Italy), and how often I turned back my head toward the open door, +fearing lest some pious passer-by, or some more distant one in the +wood above, pursuing the pathway that leads to the tower of Luitprand, +should hear the roof echo with your laughter, at the stories you had +collected about the brotherhood and sisterhood of the place. + +_Landor._ I have forgotten most of them, and nearly all: but I have +not forgotten how we speculated on the possibility that Milton might +once have been sitting on the very bench we then occupied, although we +do not hear of his having visited that part of the country. Presently +we discoursed on his poetry; as we propose to do again this morning. + +_Southey._ In that case, it seems we must continue to be seated on the +turf. + +_Landor._ Why so? + +_Southey._ Because you do not like to walk in company: it might +disturb and discompose you: and we never lose our temper without +losing at the same time many of our thoughts, which are loath to come +forward without it. + +_Landor._ From my earliest days I have avoided society as much as I +could decorously, for I received more pleasure in the cultivation and +improvement of my own thoughts than in walking up and down among the +thoughts of others. Yet, as you know, I never have avoided the +intercourse of men distinguished by virtue and genius; of genius, +because it warmed and invigorated me by my trying to keep pace with +it; of virtue, that if I had any of my own it might be called forth by +such vicinity. Among all men elevated in station who have made a noise +in the world (admirable old expression!) I never saw any in whose +presence I felt inferiority, excepting Kosciusco. But how many in the +lower paths of life have exerted both virtues and abilities which I +never exerted, and never possessed! what strength and courage and +perseverance in some, in others what endurance and forbearance! At the +very moment when most, beside yourself, catching up half my words, +would call and employ against me in its ordinary signification what +ought to convey the most honorific, the term _self-sufficiency_, I bow +my head before the humble, with greatly more than their humiliation. +You are better tempered than I am, and are readier to converse. There +are half-hours when, although in good humour and good spirits, I +would, not be disturbed by the necessity of talking, to be the +possessor of all the rich marshes we see yonder. In this interval +there is neither storm nor sunshine of the mind, but calm and (as the +farmer would call it) _growing_ weather, in which the blades of +thought spring up and dilate insensibly. Whatever I do, I must do in +the open air, or in the silence of night: either is sufficient: but I +prefer the hours of exercise, or, what is next to exercise, of +field-repose. Did you happen to know the admiral? + +_Southey._ Not personally: but I believe the terms you have applied to +him are well merited. After some experience, he contended that public +men, public women, and the public press, may be all designated by one +and the same trisyllable. He is reported to have been a strict +disciplinarian. In the mutiny at the Nore he was seized by his crew, +and summarily condemned by them to be hanged. Many taunting questions +were asked him, to which he made no reply. When the rope was fastened +round his neck, the ringleader cried, 'Answer this one thing, however, +before you go, sir! What would you do with any of us, if we were in +your power as you are now in ours?' The admiral, then captain, looked +sternly and contemptuously, and replied, 'Hang you, by God!' Enraged +at this answer, the mutineer tugged at the rope: but another on the +instant rushed forward, exclaiming, 'No, captain!' (for thus he called +the fellow) 'he has been cruel to us, flogging here and flogging +there, but before so brave a man is hanged like a dog, you heave me +overboard.' Others among the most violent now interceded: and an old +seaman, not saying a single word, came forward with his knife in his +hand, and cut the noose asunder. Nichols did not thank him, nor notice +him, nor speak: but, looking round at the other ships, in which there +was the like insubordination, he went toward his cabin slow and +silent. Finding it locked, he called to a midshipman: 'Tell that man +with a knife to come down and open the door.' After a pause of a few +minutes, it was done: but he was confined below until the quelling of +the mutiny. + +_Landor._ His conduct as Controller of the Navy was no less +magnanimous and decisive. In this office he presided at the trial of +Lord Melville. His lordship was guilty, we know, of all the charges +brought against him; but, having more patronage than ever minister had +before, he refused to answer the questions which (to repeat his own +expression) might incriminate him. And his refusal was given with a +smile of indifference, a consciousness of security. In those days, as +indeed in most others, the main use of power was promotion and +protection: and _honest man_ was never in any age among the titles of +nobility, and has always been the appellation used toward the feeble +and inferior by the prosperous. Nichols said on the present occasion, +'If this man is permitted to skulk away under such pretences, trial is +here a mockery.' Finding no support, he threw up his office as +Controller of the Navy, and never afterward entered the House of +Commons. Such a person, it appears to me, leads us aptly and +becomingly to that steadfast patriot on whose writings you promised me +your opinion; not incidentally, as before, but turning page after +page. It would ill beseem us to treat Milton with generalities. +Radishes and salt are the picnic quota of slim spruce reviewers: let +us hope to find somewhat more solid and of better taste. Desirous to +be a listener and a learner when you discourse on his poetry, I have +been more occupied of late in examining the prose. + +_Southey._ Do you retain your high opinion of it? + +_Landor._ Experience makes us more sensible of faults than of +beauties. Milton is more correct than Addison, but less correct than +Hooker, whom I wish he had been contented to receive as a model in +style, rather than authors who wrote in another and a poorer language; +such, I think, you are ready to acknowledge is the Latin. + +_Southey._ This was always my opinion. + +_Landor._ However, I do not complain that in oratory and history his +diction is sometimes poetical. + +_Southey._ Little do I approve of it in prose on any subject. +Demosthenes and Aeschines, Lisias and Isaeus, and finally Cicero, +avoided it. + +_Landor._ They did: but Chatham and Burke and Grattan did not; nor +indeed the graver and greater Pericles; of whom the most memorable +sentence on record is pure poetry. On the fall of the young Athenians +in the field of battle, he said, 'The year hath lost its spring.' But +how little are these men, even Pericles himself, if you compare them +as men of genius with Livy! In Livy, as in Milton, there are bursts of +passion which cannot by the nature of things be other than poetical, +nor (being so) come forth in other language. If Milton had executed +his design of writing a history of England, it would probably have +abounded in such diction, especially in the more turbulent scenes and +in the darker ages. + +_Southey._ There are quiet hours and places in which a taper may be +carried steadily, and show the way along the ground; but you must +stand a-tiptoe and raise a blazing torch above your head, if you would +bring to our vision the obscure and time-worn figures depicted on the +lofty vaults of antiquity. The philosopher shows everything in one +clear light; the historian loves strong reflections and deep shadows, +but, above all, prominent and moving characters. We are little pleased +with the man who disenchants us: but whoever can make us wonder, must +himself (we think) be wonderful, and deserve our admiration. + +_Landor._ Believing no longer in magic and its charms, we still +shudder at the story told by Tacitus, of those which were discovered +in the mournful house of Germanicus. + +_Southey._ Tacitus was also a great poet, and would have been a +greater, had he been more contented with the external and ordinary +appearances of things. Instead of which, he looked at a part of his +pictures through a prism, and at another part through a _camera +obscura_. If the historian were as profuse of moral as of political +axioms, we should tolerate him less: for in the political we fancy a +writer is but meditating; in the moral we regard him as declaiming. In +history we desire to be conversant with only the great, according to +our notions of greatness: we take it as an affront, on such an +invitation, to be conducted into the lecture-room, or to be desired to +amuse ourselves in the study. + +_Landor._ Pray go on. I am desirous of hearing more. + +_Southey._ Being now alone, with the whole day before us, and having +carried, as we agreed at breakfast, each his Milton in his pocket, let +us collect all the graver faults we can lay our hands upon, without a +too minute and troublesome research; not in the spirit of Johnson, but +in our own. + +_Landor._ That is, abasing our eyes in reverence to so great a man, +but without closing them. The beauties of his poetry we may omit to +notice, if we can: but where the crowd claps the hands, it will be +difficult for us always to refrain. Johnson, I think, has been charged +unjustly with expressing too freely and inconsiderately the blemishes +of Milton. There are many more of them than he has noticed. + +_Southey._ If we add any to the number, and the literary world hears +of it, we shall raise an outcry from hundreds who never could see +either his excellences or his defects, and from several who never have +perused the noblest of his writings. + +_Landor._ It may be boyish and mischievous, but I acknowledge I have +sometimes felt a pleasure in irritating, by the cast of a pebble, +those who stretch forward to the full extent of the chain their open +and frothy mouths against me. I shall seize upon this conjecture of +yours, and say everything that comes into my head on the subject. +Beside which, if any collateral thoughts should spring up, I may throw +them in also; as you perceive I have frequently done in my _Imaginary +Conversations_, and as we always do in real ones. + +_Southey._ When we adhere to one point, whatever the form, it should +rather be called a disquisition than a conversation. Most writers of +dialogue take but a single stride into questions the most abstruse, +and collect a heap of arguments to be blown away by the bloated whiffs +of some rhetorical charlatan, tricked out in a multiplicity of ribbons +for the occasion. + +Before we open the volume of poetry, let me confess to you I admire +his prose less than you do. + +_Landor._ Probably because you dissent more widely from the opinions +it conveys: for those who are displeased with anything are unable to +confine the displeasure to one spot. We dislike everything a little +when we dislike anything much. It must indeed be admitted that his +prose is often too latinized and stiff. But I prefer his heavy cut +velvet, with its ill-placed Roman fibula, to the spangled gauze and +gummed-on flowers and puffy flounces of our present street-walking +literature. So do you, I am certain. + +_Southey._ Incomparably. But let those who have gone astray, keep +astray, rather than bring Milton into disrepute by pushing themselves +into his company and imitating his manner. Milton is none of these: +and his language is never a patchwork. We find daily, in almost every +book we open, expressions which are not English, never were, and never +will be: for the writers are by no means of sufficiently high rank to +be masters of the mint. To arrive at this distinction, it is not +enough to scatter in all directions bold, hazardous, undisciplined +thoughts: there must be lordly and commanding ones, with a full +establishment of well-appointed expressions adequate to their +maintenance. + +Occasionally I have been dissatisfied with Milton, because in my +opinion that is ill said in prose which can be said more plainly. Not +so in poetry: if it were, much of Pindar and Aeschylus, and no little +of Dante, would be censurable. + +_Landor._ Acknowledge that he whose poetry I am holding in my hand is +free from every false ornament in his prose, unless a few bosses of +latinity may be called so; and I am ready to admit the full claims of +your favourite South. Acknowledge that, heading all the forces of our +language, he was the great antagonist of every great monster which +infested our country; and he disdained to trim his lion-skin with +lace. No other English writer has equalled Raleigh, Hooker, and +Milton, in the loftier parts of their works. + +_Southey._ But Hooker and Milton, you allow, are sometimes pedantic. +In Hooker there is nothing so elevated as there is in Raleigh. + +_Landor._ Neither he, however, nor any modern, nor any ancient, has +attained to that summit on which the sacred ark of Milton strikes and +rests. Reflections, such as we indulged in on the borders of the +Larius, come over me here again. Perhaps from the very sod where you +are sitting, the poet in his youth sate looking at the Sabrina he was +soon to celebrate. There is pleasure in the sight of a glebe which +never has been broken; but it delights me particularly in those places +where great men have been before. I do not mean warriors: for +extremely few among the most remarkable of them will a considerate man +call great: but poets and philosophers and philanthropists, the +ornaments of society, the charmers of solitude, the warders of +civilization, the watchmen at the gate which Tyranny would batter +down, and the healers of those wounds which she left festering in the +field. And now, to reduce this demon into its proper toad-shape again, +and to lose sight of it, open your _Paradise Lost_. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE EMPEROR OF CHINA AND TSING-TI + + +On the morrow I was received at the folding-doors by Pru-Tsi, and +ushered by him into the presence of his majesty the Emperor, who was +graciously pleased to inform me that he had rendered thanks to +Almighty God for enlightening his mind, and for placing his empire far +beyond the influence of the persecutor and fanatic. 'But,' continued +his majesty, 'this story of the sorcerer's man quite confounds me. +Little as the progress is which the Europeans seem to have made in the +path of humanity, yet the English, we know, are less cruel than their +neighbours, and more given to reflection and meditation. How then is +it possible they should allow any portion of their fellow-citizens to +be hoodwinked, gagged, and carried away into darkness, by such +conspirators and assassins? Why didst thou not question the man +thyself?' + +_Tsing-Ti._ I did, O Emperor! and his reply was, 'We can bury such +only as were in the household of the faith. It would be a mockery to +bid those spirits go in peace which we know are condemned to +everlasting fire.' + +_Emperor._ Amazing! have they that? Who invented it? Everlasting fire! +It surely might be applied to better purposes. And have those rogues +authority to throw people into it? In what part of the kingdom is it? +If natural, it ought to have been marked more plainly in the maps. The +English, no doubt, are ashamed of letting it be known abroad that they +have any such places in their country. If artificial, it is no wonder +they keep such a secret to themselves. Tsing-Ti, I commend thy +prudence in asking no questions about it; for I see we are equally at +a loss on this curiosity. + +_Tsing-Ti._ The sorcerer has a secret for diluting it. Oysters and the +white of eggs, applied on lucky days, enter into the composition; but +certain charms in a strange language must also be employed, and must +be repeated a certain number of times. There are stones likewise, and +wood cut into particular forms, good against this eternal fire, as +they believe. The sorcerer has the power, they pretend, of giving the +faculty of hearing and seeing to these stones and pieces of wood; and +when he has given them the faculties, they become so sensible and +grateful, they do whatever he orders. Some roll their eyes, some +sweat, some bleed; and the people beat their breasts before them, +calling themselves miserable sinners. + +_Emperor._ _Sinners_ is not the name I should have given them, +although no doubt they are in the right. + +_Tsing-Ti._ Sometimes, if they will not bleed freely, nor sweat, nor +roll their eyes, the devouter break their heads with clubs, and look +out for others who will. + +_Emperor._ Take heed, Tsing-Ti! Take heed! I do believe thou art +talking all the while of idols. Thou must be respectful; remember I am +head of all the religions in the empire. We have something in our own +country not very unlike them, only the people do not worship them; +they merely fall down before them as representatives of a higher +power. So they say. + +_Tsing-Ti._ I do not imagine they go much farther in Europe, excepting +the introduction of this club-law into their adoration. + +_Emperor._ And difference enough, in all conscience. Our people is +less ferocious and less childish. If any man break an idol here for +not sweating, he himself would justly be condemned to sweat, showing +him how inconvenient a thing it is when the sweater is not disposed. +As for rolling the eyes, surely they know best whom they should ogle; +as for bleeding, that must be regulated by the season of the year. Let +every man choose his idol as freely as he chooses his wife; let him be +constant if he can; if he cannot, let him at least be civil. Whoever +dares to scratch the face of any one in my empire, shall be condemned +to varnish it afresh, and moreover to keep it in repair all his +lifetime. + +_Tsing-Ti._ In Europe such an offence would be punished with the +extremities of torture. + +_Emperor._ Perhaps their idols cost more, and are newer. Is there no +chance, in all their changes, that we may be called upon to supply +them with a few? + +_Tsing-Ti._ They have plenty for the present, and they dig up fresh +occasionally. + +_Emperor._ In regard to the worship of idols, they have not a great +deal to learn from us; and what is deficient will come by degrees as +they grow humaner. But how little care can any ruler have for the +happiness and improvement of his people, who permits such ferocity in +the priesthood. If its members are employed by the government to +preside at burials, as according to thy discourse I suppose, a +virtuous prince would order a twelvemonth's imprisonment, and spare +diet, to whichever of them should refuse to perform the last office of +humanity toward a fellow-creature. What separation of citizen from +citizen, and necessarily what diminution of national strength, must be +the consequence of such a system! A single act of it ought to be +punished more severely than any single act of sedition, not only as +being a greater distractor of civic union, but, in its cruel +sequestration of the best affections, a fouler violator of domestic +peace. I always had fancied, from the books in my library, that the +Christian religion was founded on brotherly love and pure equality. I +may calculate ill; but, in my hasty estimate, damnation and dog-burial +stand many removes from these. + +'Wait a little,' the Emperor continued: 'I wish to read in my library +the two names that my father said are considered the two greatest in +the West, and may vie nearly with the highest of our own country.' + +Whereupon did his majesty walk forth into his library; and my eyes +followed his glorious figure as he passed through the doorway, +traversing the _gallery of the peacocks_, so called because fifteen of +those beautiful birds unite their tails in the centre of the ceiling, +painted so naturally as to deceive the beholder, each carrying in his +beak a different flower, the most beautiful in China, and bending his +neck in such a manner as to present it to the passer below. Traversing +this gallery, his majesty with his own hand drew aside the curtain of +the library door. His majesty then entered; and, after some delay, he +appeared with two long scrolls, and shook them gently over the +fish-pond, in this dormitory of the sages. Suddenly there were so many +splashes and plunges that I was aware of the gratification the fishes +had received from the grubs in them, and the disappointment in the +atoms of dust. His majesty, with his own right hand, drew the two +scrolls trailing on the marble pavement, and pointing to them with his +left, said: + +'Here they are; Nhu-Tong: Pa-Kong. Suppose they had died where the +sorcerer's men held firm footing, would the priests have refused them +burial?' + +I bowed my head at the question; for a single tinge of red, whether +arising from such ultra-bestial cruelty in those who have the +impudence to accuse the cannibals of theirs, or whether from abhorrent +shame at the corroding disease of intractable superstition, hereditary +in the European nations for fifteen centuries, a tinge of red came +over the countenance of the emperor. When I raised up again my +forehead, after such time as I thought would have removed all traces +of it, still fixing my eyes on the ground, I answered: + +'O Emperor! the most zealous would have done worse. They would have +prepared these great men for burial, and then have left them +unburied.' + +_Emperor._ So! so! they would have embalmed them, in their reverence +for meditation and genius, although their religion prohibits the +ceremony of interring them. + +_Tsing-Ti._ Alas, sire, my meaning is far different. They would have +dislocated their limbs with pulleys, broken them with hammers, and +then have burnt the flesh off the bones. This is called an _act of +faith_. + +_Emperor._ _Faith_, didst thou say? Tsing-Ti, thou speakest bad +Chinese: thy native tongue is strangely occidentalized. + +_Tsing-Ti._ So they call it. + +_Emperor._ God hath not given unto all men the use of speech. Thou +meanest to designate the ancient inhabitants of the country, not those +who have lived there within the last three centuries. + +_Tsing-Ti._ The Spaniards and Italians (such are the names of the +nations who are most under the influence of the spells) were never so +barbarous and cruel as during the first of the last three centuries. +The milder of them would have refused two cubits of earth to the two +philosophers; and not only would have rejected them from the cemetery +of the common citizens, but from the side of the common hangman; the +most ignorant priest thinking himself much wiser, and the most +enlightened prince not daring to act openly as one who could think +otherwise. The Italians had formerly two illustrious men among them; +the earlier was a poet, the later a philosopher; one was exiled, the +other was imprisoned, and both were within a span of being burnt +alive. + +_Emperor._ We have in Asia some odd religions and some barbarous +princes, but neither are like the Europeans. In the name of God! do +the fools think of their Christianity as our neighbours in Tartary +(with better reason) think of their milk; that it will keep the longer +for turning sour? or that it must be wholesome because it is heady? +Swill it out, swill it out, say I, and char the tub. + + + + +LOUIS XVIII AND TALLEYRAND + + +_Louis._ M. Talleyrand! in common with all my family, all France, all +Europe, I entertain the highest opinion of your abilities and +integrity. You have convinced me that your heart, throughout the +storms of the revolution, leaned constantly toward royalty; and that +you permitted and even encouraged the caresses of the usurper, merely +that you might strangle the more certainly and the more easily his +new-born empire. After this, it is impossible to withhold my +confidence from you. + +_Talleyrand._ Conscious of the ridicule his arrogance and presumption +would incur, the usurper attempted to silence and stifle it with +other and far different emotions. Half his cruelties were perpetrated +that his vanity might not be wounded: for scorn is superseded by +horror. Whenever he committed an action or uttered a sentiment which +would render him an object of derision, he instantly gave vent to +another which paralysed by its enormous wickedness. He would extirpate +a nation to extinguish a smile. No man alive could deceive your +majesty: the extremely few who would wish to do it, lie under that +vigilant and piercing eye, which discerned in perspective from the +gardens of Hartwell those of the Tuileries and Versailles. As joy +arises from calamity, so spring arises from the bosom of winter, +purely to receive your majesty, inviting the august descendant of +their glorious founder to adorn and animate them again with his +beneficent and gracious presence. The waters murmur, in voices +half-suppressed, the reverential hymn of peace restored: the woods bow +their heads.... + +_Louis._ Talking of woods, I am apprehensive all the game has been +woefully killed up in my forests. + +_Talleyrand._ A single year will replenish them. + +_Louis._ Meanwhile! M. Talleyrand! meanwhile! + +_Talleyrand._ Honest and active and watchful gamekeepers, in +sufficient number, must be sought; and immediately. + +_Louis._ Alas! if the children of my nobility had been educated like +the children of the English, I might have promoted some hundreds of +them in this department. But their talents lie totally within the +binding of their breviaries. Those of them who shoot, can shoot only +with pistols; which accomplishment they acquired in England, that they +might challenge any of the islanders who should happen to look with +surprise or displeasure in their faces, expecting to be noticed by +them in Paris, for the little hospitalities the proud young gentlemen, +and their prouder fathers, were permitted to offer them in London and +at their country-seats. What we call _reconnaissance_, they call +_gratitude_, treating a recollector like a debtor. This is a want of +courtesy, a defect in civilization, which it behoves us to supply. Our +memories are as tenacious as theirs, and rather more eclectic. + +Since my return to my kingdom I have undergone great indignities from +this unreflecting people. One Canova, a sculptor at Rome, visited +Paris in the name of the Pope, and in quality of his envoy, and +insisted on the cession of those statues and pictures which were +brought into France by the French armies. He began to remove them out +of the gallery: I told him I would never give my consent: he replied, +he thought it sufficient that he had Wellington's. Therefore, the next +time Wellington presented himself at the Tuileries, I turned my back +upon him before the whole court. Let the English and their allies be +aware, that I owe my restoration not to them, but partly to God and +partly to Saint Louis. They and their armies are only brute +instruments in the hands of my progenitor and intercessor. + +_Talleyrand._ Fortunate, that the conqueror of France bears no +resemblance to the conqueror of Spain. Peterborough (I shudder at the +idea) would have ordered a file of soldiers to seat your Majesty in +your travelling carriage, and would have reinstalled you at Hartwell. +The English people are so barbarous, that he would have done it not +only with impunity, but with applause. + +_Louis._ But the sovereign of his country ... would the sovereign +suffer it? + +_Talleyrand._ Alas! sire! Confronted with such men, what are +sovereigns, when the people are the judges? Wellington can drill +armies: Peterborough could marshal nations. + +_Louis._ Thank God! we have no longer any such pests on earth. The +most consummate general of our days (such is Wellington) sees nothing +one single inch beyond the field of battle; and he is so observant of +discipline, that if I ordered him to be flogged in the presence of the +allied armies, he would not utter a complaint nor shrug a shoulder; he +would only write a dispatch. + +_Talleyrand._ But his soldiers would execute the Duke of Brunswick's +manifesto, and Paris would sink into her catacombs. No man so little +beloved was ever so well obeyed: and there is not a man in England, of +either party, citizen or soldier, who would not rather die than see +him disgraced. His firmness, his moderation, his probity, place him +more opposite to Napoleon than he stood in the field of Waterloo. +These are his lofty lines of Torres Vedras, which no enemy dares +assail throughout their whole extent. + +_Louis._ M. Talleyrand! is it quite right to extol an enemy and an +Englishman in this manner? + +_Talleyrand._ Pardon! Sire! I stand corrected. Forgive me a momentary +fit of enthusiasm, in favour of those qualities by which, although an +Englishman's, I am placed again in your majesty's service. + +_Louis._ We will now then go seriously to business. Wellington and the +allied armies have interrupted and occupied us. I will instantly +write, with my own hand, to the Marquis of Buckingham, desiring him to +send me five hundred pheasants' eggs. I am restored to my throne, M. +Talleyrand! but in what a condition! Not a pheasant on the table! I +must throw myself on the mercy of foreigners, even for a pheasant! +When I have written my letter, I shall be ready to converse with you +on the business on which I desired your presence. [_Writes._] Here; +read it. Give me your opinion: is not the note a model? + +_Talleyrand._ If the charms of language could be copied, it would be. +But what is intended for delight may terminate in despair: and there +are words which, unapproachable by distance and sublimity, may wither +the laurels on the most exalted of literary brows. + +_Louis._ There is grace in that expression of yours, M. Talleyrand! +there is really no inconsiderable grace in it. Seal my letter: direct +it to the Marquis of Buckingham at Stowe. Wait: open it again: no, no: +write another in your own name: instruct him how sure you are it will +be agreeable to me, if he sends at the same time fifty or a hundred +brace of the birds as well as the eggs. At present I am desolate. My +heart is torn, M. Talleyrand! it is almost plucked out of my bosom. I +have no other care, no other thought, day or night, but the happiness +of my people. The allies, who have most shamefully overlooked the +destitution of my kitchen, seem resolved to turn a deaf ear to its +cries evermore; nay, even to render them shriller and shriller. The +allies, I suspect, are resolved to execute the design of the +mischievous Pitt. + +_Talleyrand._ May it please your majesty to inform me _which_ of them; +for he formed a thousand, all mischievous, but greatly more +mischievous to England than to France. Resolved to seize the sword, in +his drunkenness, he seized it by the edge, and struck at us with the +hilt, until he broke it off and until he himself was exhausted by loss +of breath and of blood. We owe alike to him the energy of our armies, +the bloody scaffolds of public safety, the Reign of Terror, the empire +of usurpation, and finally, as the calm is successor to the tempest, +and sweet fruit to bitter kernel, the blessing of your majesty's +restoration. Excepting in this one event, he was mischievous to our +country; but in all events, and in all undertakings, he was pernicious +to his own. No man ever brought into the world such enduring evil; few +men such extensive. + +_Louis._ His king ordered it. George III loved battles and blood. + +_Talleyrand._ But he was prudent in his appetite for them. + +_Louis._ He talked of peppering his people as I would talk of +peppering a capon. + +_Talleyrand._ Having split it. His subjects cut up by his subjects +were only capers to his leg of mutton. From none of his palaces and +parks was there any view so rural, so composing to his spirits, as the +shambles. When these were not fresh, the gibbet would do. + +I wish better luck to the pheasants' eggs than befell Mr. Pitt's +designs. Not one brought forth anything. + +_Louis._ No: but he declared in the face of his Parliament, and of +Europe, that he would insist on indemnity for the past and security +for the future. These were his words. Now, all the money and other +wealth the French armies levied in Spain, Portugal, Italy, and +everywhere else, would scarcely be sufficient for this indemnity. + +_Talleyrand._ England shall never receive from us a tithe of that +amount. + +_Louis._ A tithe of it! She may demand a quarter or a third, and leave +us wondering at her moderation and forbearance. + +_Talleyrand._ The matter must be arranged immediately, before she has +time for calculation or reflection. A new peace maddens England to the +same paroxysm as a new war maddens France. She hath sent over hither +her minister ... or rather her prime minister himself is come to +transact all the business ... the most ignorant and most shortsighted +man to be found in any station of any public office throughout the +whole of Europe. He must be treated as her arbiter: we must talk to +him of restoring her, of regenerating her, of preserving her, of +guiding her, which (we must protest with our hands within our frills) +he alone is capable of doing. We must enlarge on his generosity (and +generous he indeed is), and there is nothing he will not concede. + +_Louis._ But if they do not come over in a week, we shall lose the +season. I ought to be eating a pheasant-poult by the middle of July. +Oh, but you were talking to me about the other matter, and perhaps the +weightier of the two; ay, certainly. If this indemnity is paid to +England, what becomes of our civil list, the dignity of my family and +household? + +_Talleyrand._ I do assure your majesty, England shall never receive ... +did I say a tithe?... I say she shall never receive a fiftieth of what +she expended in the war against us. It would be out of all reason, and +out of all custom in her to expect it. Indeed it would place her in +almost as good a condition as ourselves. Even if she were beaten she +could hardly hope _that_: she never in the last three centuries has +demanded it when she was victorious. Of all the sufferers by the war, +we shall be the best off. + +_Louis._ The English are calculators and traders. + +_Talleyrand._ Wild speculators, gamblers in trade, who hazard more +ventures than their books can register. It will take England some +years to cast up the amount of her losses. + +_Louis._ But she, in common with her allies, will insist on our ceding +those provinces which my predecessor Louis XIV annexed to his kingdom. +Be quite certain that nothing short of Alsace, Lorraine, and Franc +Comte, will satisfy the German princes. They must restore the German +language in those provinces: for languages are the only true +boundaries of nations, and there will always be dissension where there +is difference of tongue. We must likewise be prepared to surrender the +remainder of the Netherlands; not indeed to England, who refused them +in the reign of Elizabeth: she wants only Dunkirk, and Dunkirk she +will have. + +_Talleyrand._ This seems reasonable: for which reason it must never +be. Diplomacy, when she yields to such simple arguments as plain +reason urges against her, loses her office, her efficacy, and her +name. + +_Louis._ I would not surrender our conquests in Germany, if I could +help it. + +_Talleyrand._ Nothing more easy. The Emperor Alexander may be +persuaded that Germany united and entire, as she would then become, +must be a dangerous rival to Russia. + +_Louis._ It appears to me that Poland will be more so, with her free +institutions. + +_Talleyrand._ There is only one statesman in the whole number of those +assembled at Paris, who believes that her institutions will continue +free; and he would rather they did not; but he stipulates for it, to +gratify and mystify the people of England. + +_Louis._ I see this clearly. I have a great mind to send Blacas over +to Stowe. I can trust to him to look to the crates and coops, and to +see that the pheasants have enough of air and water, and that the +Governor of Calais finds a commodious place for them to roost in, +forbidding the drums to beat and disturb them, evening or morning. The +next night, according to my calculation, they repose at Montreuil. I +must look at them before they are let loose. I cannot well imagine why +the public men employed by England are usually, indeed constantly so +inferior in abilities to those of France, Prussia, Austria, and +Russia. What say you, M. Talleyrand? I do not mean about the +pheasants; I mean about the envoys. + +_Talleyrand._ It can only be that I have considered the subject more +frequently and attentively than suited the avocations of your majesty, +that the reason comes out before me clearly and distinctly. The prime +ministers, in all these countries, are independent, and uncontrolled +in the choice of agents. A prime minister in France may perhaps be +willing to promote the interests of his own family; and hence he may +appoint from it one unworthy of the place. In regard to other +families, he cares little or nothing about them, knowing that his +power lies in the palace, and not in the club-room. Whereas in England +he must conciliate the great families, the hereditary dependants of +his faction, Whig or Tory. Hence even the highest commands have been +conferred on such ignorant and worthless men as the Duke of York and +the Earl of Chatham, although the minister was fully aware that the +honour of his nation was tarnished, and that its safety was in +jeopardy, by such appointments. Meanwhile he kept his seat however, +and fed from it his tame creatures in the cub. + +_Louis._ Do you apprehend any danger (talking of cubs) that my +pheasants will be bruised against the wooden bars, or suffer by +sea-sickness? I would not command my bishops to offer up public +prayers against such contingencies: for people must never have +positive evidence that the prayers of the Church can possibly be +ineffectual: and we cannot pray for pheasants as we pray for fine +weather, by the barometer. We must drop it. Now go on with the others, +if you have done with England. + +_Talleyrand._ A succession of intelligent men rules Prussia, Russia, +and Austria; because these three are economical, and must get their +bread by creeping, day after day, through the hedges next to them, and +by filching a sheaf or two, early and late, from cottager or small +farmer; that is to say, from free states and petty princes. Prussia, +like a mongrel, would fly at the legs of Austria and Russia, catching +them with the sack upon their shoulders, unless they untied it and +tossed a morsel to her. These great powers take especial care to +impose a protective duty on intellect; to let none enter the country, +and none leave it, without a passport. Their diplomatists are as +clever and conciliatory as those of England are ignorant and +repulsive, who, while they offer an uncounted sum of secret-service +money with the left hand, give a sounding slap on the face with the +right. + +_Louis._ We, by adopting a contrary policy, gain more information, +raise more respect, inspire more awe, and exercise more authority. The +weightiest of our disbursements are smiles and flatteries, with a +ribbon and a cross at the end of them. + +But, between the Duke of York and the Earl of Chatham, I must confess, +I find very little difference. + +_Talleyrand._ Some, however. The one was only drunk all the evening +and all the night; the other was only asleep all the day. The +accumulated fogs of Walcheren seemed to concentrate in his brain, +puffing out at intervals just sufficient to affect with typhus and +blindness four thousand soldiers. A cake of powder rusted their +musket-pans, which they were too weak to open and wipe. Turning round +upon their scanty and mouldy straw, they beheld their bayonets piled +together against the green dripping wall of the chamber, which neither +bayonet nor soldier was ever to leave again. + +_Louis._ We suffer by the presence of the allied armies in our +capital: but we shall soon be avenged: for the English minister in +another fortnight will return and remain at home. + +_Talleyrand._ England was once so infatuated as to give up Malta to +us, although fifty Gibraltars would be of inferior value to her. +Napoleon laughed at her: she was angry: she began to suspect she had +been duped and befooled: and she broke her faith. + +_Louis._ For the first time, M. Talleyrand, and with a man who never +had any. + +_Talleyrand._ We shall now induce her to evacuate Sicily, in violation +of her promises to the people of that island. Faith, having lost her +virginity, braves public opinion, and never blushes more. + +_Louis._ Sicily is the key to India, Egypt is the lock. + +_Talleyrand._ What, if I induce the minister to restore to us +Pondicherry? + +_Louis._ M. Talleyrand! you have done great things, and without +boasting. Whenever you do boast, let it be that you will perform only +the thing which is possible. The English know well enough what it is +to allow us a near standing-place anywhere. If they permit a Frenchman +to plant one foot in India, it will upset all Asia before the other +touches the ground. It behoves them to prohibit a single one of us +from ever landing on those shores. Improbable as it is that a man +uniting to the same degree as Hyder-Ali did political and military +genius, will appear in the world again for centuries; most of the +princes are politic, some are brave, and perhaps no few are credulous. +While England is confiding in our loyalty, we might expatiate on her +perfidy, and our tears fall copiously on the broken sceptre in the +dust of Delhi. Ignorant and stupid as the king's ministers may be, the +East India Company is well-informed on its interests, and alert in +maintaining them. I wonder that a republic so wealthy and so wise +should be supported on the bosom of royalty. Believe me, her merchants +will take alarm, and arouse the nation. + +_Talleyrand._ We must do all we have to do, while the nation is +feasting and unsober. It will awaken with sore eyes and stiff limbs. + +_Louis._ Profuse as the English are, they will never cut the bottom of +their purses. + +_Talleyrand._ They have already done it. Whenever I look toward the +shores of England, I fancy I descry the Danaids there, toiling at the +replenishment of their perforated vases, and all the Nereids leering +and laughing at them in the mischievous fullness of their hearts. + +_Louis._ Certainly she can do me little harm at present, and for +several years to come: but we must always have an eye upon her, and be +ready to assert our superiority. + +_Talleyrand._ We feel it. In fifty years, by abstaining from war, we +may discharge our debt and replenish our arsenals. England will never +shake off the heavy old man from her shoulders. Overladen and morose, +she will be palsied in the hand she unremittingly holds up against +Ireland. Proud and perverse, she runs into domestic warfare as blindly +as France runs into foreign: and she refuses to her subject what she +surrenders to her enemy. + +_Louis._ Her whole policy tends to my security. + +_Talleyrand._ We must now consider how your majesty may enjoy it at +home, all the remainder of your reign. + +_Louis._ Indeed you must, M. Talleyrand! Between you and me be it +spoken, I trust but little my loyal people; their loyalty being so +ebullient, that it often overflows the vessel which should contain it, +and is a perquisite of scouts and scullions. I do not wish to offend +you. + +_Talleyrand._ Really I can see no other sure method of containing and +controlling them, than by bastions and redoubts, the whole circuit of +the city. + +_Louis._ M. Talleyrand! I will not doubt your sincerity: I am +confident you have reserved the whole of it for my service; and there +are large arrears. But M. Talleyrand! such an attempt would be +resisted by any people which had ever heard of liberty, and much more +by a people which had ever dreamt of enjoying it. + +_Talleyrand._ Forts are built in all directions above Genoa. + +_Louis._ Yes; by her conqueror, not by her king. + +_Talleyrand._ Your majesty comes with both titles, and rules, like +your great progenitor, + + Et par droit de conquete et par droit de naissance. + +_Louis._ True; my arms have subdued the rebellious; but not without +great firmness and great valour on my part, and some assistance +(however tardy) on the part of my allies. Conquerors must conciliate: +fatherly kings must offer digestible spoon-meat to their +ill-conditioned children. There would be sad screaming and kicking +were I to swaddle mine in stone-work. No, M. Talleyrand; if ever Paris +is surrounded by fortifications to coerce the populace, it must be the +work of some democrat, some aspirant to supreme power, who resolves to +maintain it, exercising a domination too hazardous for legitimacy. I +will only scrape from the chambers the effervescence of superficial +letters and corrosive law. + +_Talleyrand._ Sire! under all their governments the good people of +Paris have submitted to the _octroi_. Now, all complaints, physical or +political, arise from the stomach. Were it decorous in a subject to +ask a question (however humbly) of his king, I would beg permission to +inquire of your majesty, in your wisdom, whether a bar across the +shoulders is less endurable than a bar across the palate. Sire! the +French can bear anything now they have the honour of bowing before +your majesty. + +_Louis._ The compliment is in a slight degree (a _very_ slight degree) +ambiguous, and (accept in good part my criticism, M. Talleyrand) not +turned with your usual grace. + +Announce it as my will and pleasure that the Duc de Blacas do +superintend the debarkation of the pheasants; and I pray God, M. de +Talleyrand, to have you in His holy keeping. + + + + +OLIVER CROMWELL AND SIR OLIVER CROMWELL + + +_Sir Oliver._ How many saints and Sions dost carry under thy cloak, +lad? Ay, what dost groan at? What art about to be delivered of? Troth, +it must be a vast and oddly-shapen piece of roguery which findeth no +issue at such capacious quarters. I never thought to see thy face +again. Prithee what, in God's name, hath brought thee to Ramsey, fair +Master Oliver? + +_Oliver._ In His name verily I come, and upon His errand; and the love +and duty I bear unto my godfather and uncle have added wings, in a +sort, unto my zeal. + +_Sir Oliver._ Take 'em off thy zeal and dust thy conscience with 'em. +I have heard an account of a saint, one Phil Neri, who in the midst of +his devotions was lifted up several yards from the ground. Now I do +suspect, Nol, thou wilt finish by being a saint of his order; and +nobody will promise or wish thee the luck to come down on thy feet +again, as he did. So! because a rabble of fanatics at Huntingdon have +equipped thee as their representative in Parliament, thou art free of +all men's houses, forsooth! I would have thee to understand, sirrah, +that thou art fitter for the House they have chaired thee unto than +for mine. Yet I do not question but thou wilt be as troublesome and +unruly there as here. Did I not turn thee out of Hinchinbrook when +thou wert scarcely half the rogue thou art latterly grown up to? And +yet wert thou immeasurably too big a one for it to hold. + +_Oliver._ It repenteth me, O mine uncle! that in my boyhood and youth +the Lord had not touched me. + +_Sir Oliver._ Touch thee! thou wast too dirty a dog by half. + +_Oliver._ Yes, sorely doth it vex and harrow me that I was then of ill +conditions, and that my name ... even your godson's ... stank in your +nostrils. + +_Sir Oliver._ Ha! polecat! it was not thy name, although bad enough, +that stank first; in my house, at least. But perhaps there are worse +maggots in stauncher mummeries. + +_Oliver._ Whereas in the bowels of your charity you then vouchsafed me +forgiveness, so the more confidently may I crave it now in this my +urgency. + +_Sir Oliver._ More confidently! What! hast got more confidence? Where +didst find it? I never thought the wide circle of the world had within +it another jot for thee. Well, Nol, I see no reason why shouldst stand +before me with thy hat off, in the courtyard and in the sun, counting +the stones in the pavement. Thou hast some knavery in thy head, I +warrant thee. Come, put on thy beaver. + +_Oliver._ Uncle Sir Oliver! I know my duty too well to stand covered +in the presence of so worshipful a kinsman, who, moreover, hath +answered at baptism for my good behaviour. + +_Sir Oliver._ God forgive me for playing the fool before Him so +presumptuously and unprofitably! Nobody shall ever take me in again to +do such an absurd and wicked thing. But thou hast some left-handed +business in the neighbourhood, no doubt, or thou wouldst never more +have come under my archway. + +_Oliver._ These are hard times for them that seek peace. We are clay +in the hands of the potter. + +_Sir Oliver._ I wish your potters sought nothing costlier, and dug in +their own grounds for it. Most of us, as thou sayest, have been upon +the wheel of these artificers; and little was left but rags when we +got off. Sanctified folks are the cleverest skinners in all +Christendom, and their Jordan tans and constringes us to the +avoirdupois of mummies. + +_Oliver._ The Lord hath chosen His own vessels. + +_Sir Oliver._ I wish heartily He would pack them off, and send them +anywhere on ass-back or cart (cart preferably), to rid our country of +'em. But now again to the point: for if we fall among the potsherds we +shall hobble on but lamely. Since thou art raised unto a high command +in the army, and hast a dragoon to hold thy solid and stately piece of +horse-flesh, I cannot but take it into my fancy that thou hast some +commission of array or disarray to execute hereabout. + +_Oliver._ With a sad sinking of spirit, to the pitch well-nigh of +swounding, and with a sight of bitter tears, which will not be put +back nor stayed in any wise, as you bear testimony unto me, Uncle +Oliver! + +_Sir Oliver._ No tears, Master Nol, I beseech thee! Wet days, among +those of thy kidney, portend the letting of blood. What dost whimper +at? + +_Oliver._ That I, that I, of all men living, should be put upon this +work! + +_Sir Oliver._ What work, prithee? + +_Oliver._ I am sent hither by them who (the Lord in His loving +kindness having pity, and mercy upon these poor realms) do, under His +right hand, administer unto our necessities, and righteously command +us, _by the aforesaid as aforesaid_ (thus runs the commission), hither +am I deputed (woe is me!) to levy certain fines in this county, or +shire, on such as the Parliament in its wisdom doth style malignants. + +_Sir Oliver._ If there is anything left about the house, never be +over-nice: dismiss thy modesty and lay hands upon it. In this county +or shire, we let go the civet-bag to save the weazon. + +_Oliver._ O mine uncle and godfather! be witness for me. + +_Sir Oliver._ Witness for thee! not I indeed. But I would rather be +witness than surety, lad, where thou art docketed. + +_Oliver._ From the most despised doth the Lord ever choose His +servants. + +_Sir Oliver._ Then, faith! thou art His first butler. + +_Oliver._ Serving Him with humility, I may peradventure be found +worthy of advancement. + +_Sir Oliver._ Ha! now if any devil speaks from within thee, it is thy +own: he does not snuffle: to my ears he speaks plain English. Worthy +or unworthy of advancement, thou wilt attain it. Come in; at least for +an hour's rest. Formerly thou knewest the means of setting the +heaviest heart afloat, let it be sticking in what mud-bank it might: +and my wet dock at Ramsey is pretty near as commodious as that over +yonder at Hinchinbrook was erewhile. Times are changed, and places +too! yet the cellar holds good. + +_Oliver._ Many and great thanks! But there are certain men on the +other side of the gate, who might take it ill if I turn away and +neglect them. + +_Sir Oliver._ Let them enter also, or eat their victuals where they +are. + +_Oliver._ They have proud stomachs: they are recusants. + +_Sir Oliver._ Recusants of what? of beef and ale? We have claret, I +trust, for the squeamish, if they are above the condition of +tradespeople. But of course you leave no person of higher quality in +the outer court. + +_Oliver._ Vain are they and worldly, although such wickedness is the +most abominable in their cases. Idle folks are fond of sitting in the +sun: I would not forbid them this indulgence. + +_Sir Oliver._ But who are they? + +_Oliver._ The Lord knows. Maybe priests, deacons, and such-like. + +_Sir Oliver._ Then, sir, they are gentlemen. And the commission you +bear from the parliamentary thieves, to sack and pillage my +mansion-house, is far less vexatious and insulting to me, than your +behaviour in keeping them so long at my stable-door. With your +permission, or without it, I shall take the liberty to invite them to +partake of my poor hospitality. + +_Oliver._ But, Uncle Sir Oliver! there are rules and ordinances +whereby it must be manifested that they lie under displeasure ... not +mine ... not mine ... but my milk must not flow for them. + +_Sir Oliver._ You may enter the house or remain where you are, at your +option; I make my visit to these gentlemen immediately, for I am tired +of standing. If thou ever reachest my age,[12] Oliver! (but God will +not surely let this be) thou wilt know that the legs become at last of +doubtful fidelity in the service of the body. + +_Oliver._ Uncle Sir Oliver! now that, as it seemeth, you have been +taking a survey of the courtyard and its contents, am I indiscreet in +asking your worship whether I acted not prudently in keeping the +_men-at-belly_ under the custody of the _men-at-arms_? This +pestilence, like unto one I remember to have read about in some poetry +of Master Chapman's,[13] began with the dogs and mules, and afterwards +crope up into the breasts of men. + +_Sir Oliver._ I call such treatment barbarous; their troopers will not +let the gentlemen come with me into the house, but insist on sitting +down to dinner with them. And yet, having brought them out of their +colleges, these brutal half-soldiers must know that they are fellows. + +_Oliver._ Yea, of a truth are they, and fellows well met. Out of their +superfluities they give nothing to the Lord or His saints; no, not +even stirrup or girth, wherewith we may mount our horses and go forth +against those who thirst for our blood. Their eyes are fat, and they +raise not up their voices to cry for our deliverance. + +_Sir Oliver._ Art mad? What stirrups and girths are hung up in +college halls and libraries? For what are these gentlemen brought +hither? + +_Oliver._ They have elected me, with somewhat short of unanimity, not +indeed to be one of themselves, for of that distinction I acknowledge +and deplore my unworthiness, nor indeed to be a poor scholar, to +which, unless it be a very poor one, I have almost as small +pretension, but simply to undertake a while the heavier office of +bursar for them; to cast up their accounts; to overlook the scouring +of their plate; and to lay a list thereof, with a few specimens, +before those who fight the fight of the Lord, that His saints, seeing +the abasement of the proud and the chastisement of worldly-mindedness, +may rejoice. + +_Sir Oliver._ I am grown accustomed to such saints and such +rejoicings. But, little could I have thought, threescore years ago, +that the hearty and jovial people of England would ever join in so +filching and stabbing a jocularity. Even the petticoated torchbearers +from rotten Rome, who lighted the faggots in Smithfield some years +before, if more blustering and cocksy, were less bitter and vulturine. +They were all intolerant, but they were not all hypocritical; they had +not always '_the Lord_' in their mouth. + +_Oliver._ According to their own notions, they might have had, at an +outlay of a farthing. + +_Sir Oliver._ Art facetious, Nol? for it is as hard to find that out +as anything else in thee, only it makes thee look, at times, a little +the grimmer and sourer. + +But, regarding these gentlemen from Cambridge. Not being such as, by +their habits and professions, could have opposed you in the field, I +hold it unmilitary and unmanly to put them under any restraint, and to +lead them away from their peaceful and useful occupations. + +_Oliver._ I always bow submissively before the judgment of mine +elders; and the more reverentially when I know them to be endowed with +greater wisdom, and guided by surer experience than myself. Alas! +these collegians not only are strong men, as you may readily see if +you measure them round the waistband, but boisterous and pertinacious +challengers. When we, who live in the fear of God, exhorted them +earnestly unto peace and brotherly love, they held us in derision. +Thus far indeed it might be an advantage to us, teaching us +forbearance and self-seeking, but we cannot countenance the evil +spirit moving them thereunto. Their occupations, as you remark most +wisely, might have been useful and peaceful, and had formerly been +so. Why then did they gird the sword of strife about their loins +against the children of Israel? By their own declaration, not only are +they our enemies, but enemies the most spiteful and untractable. When +I came quietly, lawfully, and in the name of the Lord, for their +plate, what did they? Instead of surrendering it like honest and +conscientious men, they attacked me and my people on horseback, with +syllogisms and enthymemes, and the Lord knows with what other such +gimcracks; such venomous and rankling old weapons as those who have +the fear of God before their eyes are fain to lay aside. Learning +should not make folks mockers ... should not make folks malignants ... +should not harden their hearts. We came with bowels for them. + +_Sir Oliver._ That ye did! and bowels which would have stowed within +them all the plate on board of a galleon. If tankards and +wassail-bowls had stuck between your teeth, you would not have felt +them. + +_Oliver._ We did feel them; some at least: perhaps we missed too many. + +_Sir Oliver._ How can these learned societies raise the money you +exact from them, beside plate? dost think they can create and coin it? + +_Oliver._ In Cambridge, Uncle Sir Oliver, and more especially in that +college named in honour (as they profanely call it) of the Blessed +Trinity, there are great conjurors or chemists. Now the said conjurors +or chemists not only do possess the faculty of making the precious +metals out of old books and parchments, but out of the skulls of young +lordlings and gentlefolks, which verily promise less. And this they +bring about by certain gold wires fastened at the top of certain caps. +Of said metals, thus devilishly converted, do they make a vain and +sumptuous use; so that, finally, they are afraid of cutting their lips +with glass. But indeed it is high time to call them. + +_Sir Oliver._ Well ... at last thou hast some mercy. + +_Oliver._ [_Aloud._] Cuffsatan Ramsbottom! Sadsoul Kiteclaw! advance! +Let every gown, together with the belly that is therein, mount up +behind you and your comrades in good fellowship. And forasmuch as you +at the country places look to bit and bridle, it seemeth fair and +equitable that ye should leave unto them, in full propriety, the +mancipular office of discharging the account. If there be any spare +beds at the inns, allow the doctors and dons to occupy the same ... +they being used to lie softly; and be not urgent that more than three +lie in each ... they being mostly corpulent. Let pass quietly and +unreproved any light bubble of pride or impetuosity, seeing that they +have not always been accustomed to the service of guards and ushers. +The Lord be with ye!... Slow trot! And now, Uncle Sir Oliver, I can +resist no longer your loving kindness. I kiss you, my godfather, in +heart's and soul's duty; and most humbly and gratefully do I accept of +your invitation to dine and lodge with you, albeit the least worthy of +your family and kinsfolk. After the refreshment of needful food, more +needful prayer, and that sleep which descendeth on the innocent like +the dew of Hermon, to-morrow at daybreak I proceed on my journey +Londonward. + +_Sir Oliver._ [_Aloud._] Ho, there! [_To a servant._] Let dinner be +prepared in the great dining-room; let every servant be in waiting, +each in full livery; let every delicacy the house affords be placed +upon the table in due courses; arrange all the plate upon the +sideboard: a gentleman by descent ... a stranger ... has claimed my +hospitality. [_Servant goes._] + +Sir! you are now master. Grant me dispensation, I entreat you, from a +further attendance on you. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[12] Sir Oliver, who died in 1655, aged ninety-three, might, by +possibility, have seen all the men of great genius, excepting Chaucer +and Roger Bacon, whom England had produced from its first discovery +down to our own times, Francis Bacon, Shakespeare, Milton, Newton, and +the prodigious shoal that attended these leviathans through the +intellectual deep. Newton was but in his thirteenth year at Sir +Oliver's death. Raleigh, Spenser, Hooker, Eliot, Selden, Taylor, +Hobbes, Sidney, Shaftesbury, and Locke, were existing in his lifetime; +and several more, who may be compared with the smaller of these. + +[13] Chapman's _Homer_, first book. + + + + +THE COUNT GLEICHEM: THE COUNTESS: THEIR CHILDREN, AND ZAIDA. + + +_Countess._ Ludolph! my beloved Ludolph! do we meet again? Ah! I am +jealous of these little ones, and of the embraces you are giving them. + +Why sigh, my sweet husband? + +Come back again, Wilhelm! Come back again, Annabella! How could you +run away? Do you think you can see better out of the corner? + +_Annabella._ Is this indeed our papa? What, in the name of mercy, can +have given him so dark a colour? I hope I shall never be like that; +and yet everybody tells me I am very like papa. + +_Wilhelm._ Do not let her plague you, papa; but take me between your +knees (I am too old to sit upon them), and tell me all about the +Turks, and how you ran away from them. + +_Countess._ Wilhelm! if your father had run away from the enemy, we +should not have been deprived of him two whole years. + +_Wilhelm._ I am hardly such a child as to suppose that a Christian +knight would run away from a rebel Turk in battle. But even Christians +are taken, somehow, by their tricks and contrivances, and their dog +Mahomet. Beside, you know you yourself told me, with tear after tear, +and scolding me for mine, that papa was taken by them. + +_Annabella._ Neither am I, who am only one year younger, so foolish as +to believe there is any dog Mahomet. And, if there were, we have dogs +that are better and faithfuller and stronger. + +_Wilhelm._ [_To his father._] I can hardly help laughing to think what +curious fancies girls have about Mahomet. We know that Mahomet is a +dog-spirit with three horsetails. + +_Annabella._ Papa! I am glad to see you smile at Wilhelm. I do assure +you he is not half so bad a boy as he was, although he did point at +me, and did tell you some mischief. + +_Count._ I ought to be indeed most happy at seeing you all again. + +_Annabella._ And so you are. Don't pretend to look grave now. I very +easily find you out. I often look grave when I am the happiest. But +forth it bursts at last: there is no room for it in tongue, or eyes, +or anywhere. + +_Count._ And so, my little angel, you begin to recollect me. + +_Annabella._ At first I used to dream of papa, but at last I forgot +how to dream of him: and then I cried, but at last I left off crying. +And then, papa, who could come to me in my sleep, seldom came again. + +_Count._ Why do you now draw back from me, Annabella? + +_Annabella._ Because you really are so very very brown: just like +those ugly Turks who sawed the pines in the saw-pit under the wood, +and who refused to drink wine in the heat of summer, when Wilhelm and +I brought it to them. Do not be angry; we did it only once. + +_Wilhelm._ Because one of them stamped and frightened her when the +other seemed to bless us. + +_Count._ Are they still living? + +_Countess._ One of them is. + +_Wilhelm._ The fierce one. + +_Count._ We will set him free, and wish it were the other. + +_Annabella._ Papa! I am glad you are come back without your spurs. + +_Countess._ Hush, child, hush. + +_Annabella._ Why, mamma? Do not you remember how they tore my frock +when I clung to him at parting? Now I begin to think of him again: I +lose everything between that day and this. + +_Countess._ The girl's idle prattle about the spurs has pained you: +always too sensitive; always soon hurt, though never soon offended. + +_Count._ O God! O my children! O my wife! it is not the loss of spurs +I now must blush for. + +_Annabella._ Indeed, papa, you never can blush at all, until you cut +that horrid beard off. + +_Countess._ Well may you say, my own Ludolph, as you do; for most +gallant was your bearing in the battle. + +_Count._ Ah! why was it ever fought? + +_Countess._ Why were most battles? But they may lead to glory even +through slavery. + +_Count._ And to shame and sorrow. + +_Countess._ Have I lost the little beauty I possessed, that you hold +my hand so languidly, and turn away your eyes when they meet mine? It +was not so formerly ... unless when first we loved. + +That one kiss restores to me all my lost happiness. + +Come; the table is ready: there are your old wines upon it: you must +want that refreshment. + +_Count._ Go, my sweet children! you must eat your supper before I do. + +_Countess._ Run into your own room for it. + +_Annabella._ I will not go until papa has patted me again on the +shoulder, now I begin to remember it. I do not much mind the beard: I +grow used to it already: but indeed I liked better to stroke and pat +the smooth laughing cheek, with my arm across the neck behind. It is +very pleasant even so. Am I not grown? I can put the whole length of +my finger between your lips. + +_Count._ And now, will not _you_ come, Wilhelm? + +_Wilhelm._ I am too tall and too heavy: she is but a child. +[_Whispers._] Yet I think, papa, I am hardly so much of a man but you +may kiss me over again ... if you will not let her see it. + +_Countess._ My dears! why do not you go to your supper? + +_Annabella._ Because he has come to show us what Turks are like. + +_Wilhelm._ Do not be angry with her. Do not look down, papa! + +_Count._ Blessings on you both, sweet children! + +_Wilhelm._ We may go now. + +_Countess._ And now, Ludolph, come to the table, and tell me all your +sufferings. + +_Count._ The worst begin here. + +_Countess._ Ungrateful Ludolph! + +_Count._ I am he: that is my name in full. + +_Countess._ You have then ceased to love me? + +_Count._ Worse; if worse can be: I have ceased to deserve your love. + +_Countess._ No: Ludolph hath spoken falsely for once; but Ludolph is +not false. + +_Count._ I have forfeited all I ever could boast of, your affection +and my own esteem. Away with caresses! Repulse me, abjure me; hate, +and never pardon me. Let the abject heart lie untorn by one remorse. +Forgiveness would split and shiver what slavery but abased. + +_Countess._ Again you embrace me; and yet tell me never to pardon you! +O inconsiderate man! O idle deviser of impossible things! + +But you have not introduced to me those who purchased your freedom, or +who achieved it by their valour. + +_Count._ Mercy! O God! + +_Countess._ Are they dead? Was the plague abroad. + +_Count._ I will not dissemble ... such was never my intention ... that +my deliverance was brought about by means of---- + +_Countess._ Say it at once ... a lady. + +_Count._ It was. + +_Countess._ She fled with you. + +_Count._ She did. + +_Countess._ And have you left her, sir? + +_Count._ Alas! alas! I have not; and never can. + +_Countess._ Now come to my arms, brave, honourable Ludolph! Did I not +say thou couldst not be ungrateful? Where, where is she who has given +me back my husband? + +_Count._ Dare I utter it! in this house. + +_Countess._ Call the children. + +_Count._ No; they must not affront her: they must not even stare at +her: other eyes, not theirs, must stab me to the heart. + +_Countess._ They shall bless her; we will all. Bring her in. + +[_Zaida is led in by the Count._] + +_Countess._ We three have stood silent long enough: and much there +may be on which we will for ever keep silence. But, sweet young +creature! can I refuse my protection, or my love, to the preserver of +my husband? Can I think it a crime, or even a folly, to have pitied +the brave and the unfortunate? to have pressed (but alas! that it ever +should have been so here!) a generous heart to a tender one? + +Why do you begin to weep? + +_Zaida._ Under your kindness, O lady, lie the sources of these tears. + +But why has he left us? He might help me to say many things which I +want to say. + +_Countess._ Did he never tell you he was married? + +_Zaida._ He did indeed. + +_Countess._ That he had children? + +_Zaida._ It comforted me a little to hear it. + +_Countess._ Why? prithee why? + +_Zaida._ When I was in grief at the certainty of holding but the +second place in his bosom, I thought I could at least go and play with +them, and win perhaps their love. + +_Countess._ According to our religion, a man must have only one wife. + +_Zaida._ That troubled me again. But the dispenser of your religion, +who binds and unbinds, does for sequins or services what our Prophet +does purely through kindness. + +_Countess._ We can love but one. + +_Zaida._ We indeed can love only one: but men have large hearts. + +_Countess._ Unhappy girl! + +_Zaida._ The very happiest in the world. + +_Countess._ Ah! inexperienced creature! + +_Zaida._ The happier for that perhaps. + +_Countess._ But the sin! + +_Zaida._ Where sin is, there must be sorrow: and I, my sweet sister, +feel none whatever. Even when tears fall from my eyes, they fall only +to cool my breast: I would not have one the fewer: they all are for +him: whatever he does, whatever he causes, is dear to me. + +_Countess._ [_Aside._] This is too much. I could hardly endure to have +him so beloved by another, even at the extremity of the earth. [_To +Zaida._] You would not lead him into perdition? + +_Zaida._ I have led him (Allah be praised!) to his wife and children. +It was for those I left my father. He whom we love might have stayed +with me at home: but there he would have been only half happy, even +had he been free. I could not often let him see me through the +lattice; I was too afraid; and I dared only once let fall the +water-melon; it made such a noise in dropping and rolling on the +terrace: but, another day, when I had pared it nicely, and had swathed +it up well among vine-leaves, dipped in sugar and sherbet, I was quite +happy. I leaped and danced to have been so ingenious. I wonder what +creature could have found and eaten it. I wish he were here, that I +might ask him if he knew. + +_Countess._ He quite forgot home then! + +_Zaida._ When we could speak together at all, he spoke perpetually of +those whom the calamity of war had separated from him. + +_Countess._ It appears that you could comfort him in his distress, and +did it willingly. + +_Zaida._ It is delightful to kiss the eye-lashes of the beloved: is it +not? but never so delightful as when fresh tears are on them. + +_Countess._ And even this too? you did this? + +_Zaida._ Fifty times. + +_Countess._ Insupportable! + +He often then spoke about me? + +_Zaida._ As sure as ever we met: for he knew I loved him the better +when I heard him speak so fondly. + +_Countess._ [_To herself._] Is this possible? It may be ... of the +absent, the unknown, the unfeared, the unsuspected. + +_Zaida._ We shall now be so happy, all three. + +_Countess._ How can we all live together? + +_Zaida._ Now he is here, is there no bond of union? + +_Countess._ Of union? of union? [_Aside_.] Slavery is a frightful +thing! slavery for life, too! And she released him from it. What then? +Impossible! impossible! [_To Zaida._] We are rich.... + +_Zaida._ I am glad to hear it. Nothing anywhere goes on well without +riches. + +_Countess._ We can provide for you amply.... + +_Zaida._ Our husband.... + +_Countess._ _Our!... husband!..._ + +_Zaida._ Yes, yes; I know he is yours too; and you, being the elder +and having children, are lady above all. He can tell you how little I +want: a bath, a slave, a dish of pilau, one jonquil every morning, as +usual; nothing more. But he must swear that he has kissed it first. +No, he need not swear it; I may always see him do it, now. + +_Countess._ [_Aside._] She agonizes me. [_To Zaida._] Will you never +be induced to return to your own country? Could not Ludolph persuade +you? + +_Zaida._ He who could once persuade me anything, may now command me +everything: when he says I must go, I go. But he knows what awaits me. + +_Countess._ No, child! he never shall say it. + +_Zaida._ Thanks, lady! eternal thanks! The breaking of his word would +break my heart; and better _that_ break first. Let the command come +from you, and not from him. + +_Countess._ [_Calling aloud._] Ludolph! Ludolph! hither! Kiss the hand +I present to you, and never forget it is the hand of a preserver. + + + + +THE PENTAMERON; + +OR, + +INTERVIEWS OF MESSER GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO +AND MESSER FRANCESCO PETRARCA + +WHEN + +SAID MESSER GIOVANNI LAY INFIRM AT HIS VILLETTA +HARD BY CERTALDO; + +AFTER WHICH THEY SAW NOT EACH OTHER ON OUR SIDE +OF PARADISE. + + + + +FIRST DAY'S INTERVIEW + + +_Boccaccio._ Who is he that entered, and now steps so silently and +softly, yet with a foot so heavy it shakes my curtains? + +Frate Biagio! can it possibly be you? + +No more physic for me, nor masses neither, at present. + +Assunta! Assuntina! who is it? + +_Assunta._ I cannot say, Signor Padrone! he puts his finger in the +dimple of his chin, and smiles to make me hold my tongue. + +_Boccaccio._ Fra Biagio! are you come from Samminiato for this? You +need not put your finger there. We want no secrets. The girl knows her +duty and does her business. I have slept well, and wake better. +[_Raising himself up a little._] + +Why? who are you? It makes my eyes ache to look aslant over the +sheets; and I cannot get to sit quite upright so conveniently; and I +must not have the window-shutters opened, they tell me. + +_Petrarca._ Dear Giovanni! have you then been very unwell? + +_Boccaccio._ O that sweet voice! and this fat friendly hand of thine, +Francesco! + +Thou hast distilled all the pleasantest flowers, and all the +wholesomest herbs of spring, into my breast already. + +What showers we have had this April, ay! How could you come along such +roads? If the devil were my labourer, I would make him work upon these +of Certaldo. He would have little time and little itch for mischief +ere he had finished them, but would gladly fan himself with an +Agnus-castus, and go to sleep all through the carnival. + +_Petrarca._ Let us cease to talk both of the labour and the labourer. +You have then been dangerously ill? + +_Boccaccio._ I do not know: they told me I was: and truly a man might +be unwell enough, who has twenty masses said for him, and fain sigh +when he thinks what he has paid for them. As I hope to be saved, they +cost me a lira each. Assunta is a good market-girl in eggs, and +mutton, and cow-heel; but I would not allow her to argue and haggle +about the masses. Indeed she knows best whether they were not fairly +worth all that was asked for them, although I could have bought a +winter cloak for less money. However, we do not want both at the same +time. I did not want the cloak: I wanted _them_, it seems. And yet I +begin to think God would have had mercy on me, if I had begged it of +him myself in my own house. What think you? + +_Petrarca._ I think he might. + +_Boccaccio._ Particularly if I offered him the sacrifice on which I +wrote to you. + +_Petrarca._ That letter has brought me hither. + +_Boccaccio._ You do then insist on my fulfilling my promise, the +moment I can leave my bed. I am ready and willing. + +_Petrarca._ Promise! none was made. You only told me that, if it +pleased God to restore you to your health again, you are ready to +acknowledge His mercy by the holocaust of your _Decameron_. What proof +have you that God would exact it? If you could destroy the _Inferno_ +of Dante, would you? + +_Boccaccio._ Not I, upon my life! I would not promise to burn a copy +of it on the condition of a recovery for twenty years. + +_Petrarca._ You are the only author who would not rather demolish +another's work than his own; especially if he thought it better: a +thought which seldom goes beyond suspicion. + +_Boccaccio._ I am not jealous of any one: I think admiration +pleasanter. Moreover, Dante and I did not come forward at the same +time, nor take the same walks. His flames are too fierce for you and +me: we had trouble enough with milder. I never felt any high +gratification in hearing of people being damned; and much less would I +toss them into the fire myself. I might indeed have put a nettle under +the nose of the learned judge in Florence, when he banished you and +your family; but I hardly think I could have voted for more than a +scourging to the foulest and fiercest of the party. + +_Petrarca._ Be as compassionate, be as amiably irresolute, toward your +own _Novelle_, which have injured no friend of yours, and deserve more +affection. + +_Boccaccio._ Francesco! no character I ever knew, ever heard of, or +ever feigned, deserves the same affection as you do; the tenderest +lover, the truest friend, the firmest patriot, and, rarest of glories! +the poet who cherishes another's fame as dearly as his own. + +_Petrarca._ If aught of this is true, let it be recorded of me that my +exhortations and entreaties have been successful, in preserving the +works of the most imaginative and creative genius that our Italy, or +indeed our world, hath in any age beheld. + +_Boccaccio._ I would not destroy his poems, as I told you, or think I +told you. Even the worst of the Florentines, who in general keep only +one of God's commandments, keep it rigidly in regard to Dante-- + + Love them who curse you. + +He called them all scoundrels, with somewhat less courtesy than +cordiality, and less afraid of censure for veracity than adulation: he +sent their fathers to hell, with no inclination to separate the child +and parent: and now they are hugging him for it in his shroud! Would +you ever have suspected them of being such lovers of justice? + +You must have mistaken my meaning; the thought never entered my head: +the idea of destroying a single copy of Dante! And what effect would +that produce? There must be fifty, or near it, in various parts of +Italy. + +_Petrarca._ I spoke of you. + +_Boccaccio._ Of me! My poetry is vile; I have already thrown into the +fire all of it within my reach. + +_Petrarca._ Poetry was not the question. We neither of us are such +poets as we thought ourselves when we were younger, and as younger men +think us still. I meant your _Decameron_; in which there is more +character, more nature, more invention, than either modern or ancient +Italy, or than Greece, from whom she derived her whole inheritance, +ever claimed or ever knew. Would you consume a beautiful meadow +because there are reptiles in it; or because a few grubs hereafter may +be generated by the succulence of the grass? + +_Boccaccio._ You amaze me: you utterly confound me. + +_Petrarca._ If you would eradicate twelve or thirteen of the +_Novelle_, and insert the same number of better, which you could +easily do within as many weeks, I should be heartily glad to see it +done. Little more than a tenth of the _Decameron_ is bad: less than a +twentieth of the _Divina Commedia_ is good. + +_Boccaccio._ So little? + +_Petrarca._ Let me never seem irreverent to our master. + +_Boccaccio._ Speak plainly and fearlessly, Francesco! Malice and +detraction are strangers to you. + +_Petrarca._ Well then: at least sixteen parts in twenty of the +_Inferno_ and _Purgatorio_ are detestable, both in poetry and +principle: the higher parts are excellent indeed. + +_Boccaccio._ I have been reading the _Paradiso_ more recently. Here it +is, under the pillow. It brings me happier dreams than the others, and +takes no more time in bringing them. Preparation for my lectures made +me remember a great deal of the poem. I did not request my auditors to +admire the beauty of the metrical version: + + Osanna sanctus deus Sabbaoth, + Super-illustrans charitate tua + Felices ignes horum Malahoth, + +nor these, with a slip of Italian between two pales of Latin: + + Modicum,[14] et non videbitis me, + Et iterum, sorelle mie dilette, + Modicum, et vos videbitis me. + +I dare not repeat all I recollect of + + Pepe Setan, Pepe Setan, aleppe, + +as there is no holy-water-sprinkler in the room: and you are aware +that other dangers awaited me, had I been so imprudent as to show the +Florentines the allusion of our poet. His _gergo_ is perpetually in +play, and sometimes plays very roughly. + +_Petrarca._ We will talk again of him presently. I must now rejoice +with you over the recovery and safety of your prodigal son, the +_Decameron_. + +_Boccaccio._ So then, you would preserve at any rate my favourite +volume from the threatened conflagration. + +_Petrarca._ Had I lived at the time of Dante, I would have given him +the same advice in the same circumstances. Yet how different is the +tendency of the two productions! Yours is somewhat too licentious; and +young men, in whose nature, or rather in whose education and habits, +there is usually this failing, will read you with more pleasure than +is commendable or innocent. Yet the very time they occupy with you, +would perhaps be spent in the midst of those excesses or +irregularities, to which the moralist, in his utmost severity, will +argue that your pen directs them. Now there are many who are fond of +standing on the brink of precipices, and who nevertheless are as +cautious as any of falling in. And there are minds desirous of being +warmed by description, which without this warmth might seek excitement +among the things described. + +I would not tell you in health what I tell you in convalescence, nor +urge you to compose what I dissuade you from cancelling. After this +avowal, I do declare to you, Giovanni, that in my opinion, the very +idlest of your tales will do the world as much good as evil; not +reckoning the pleasure of reading, nor the exercise and recreation of +the mind, which in themselves are good. What I reprove you for, is the +indecorous and uncleanly; and these, I trust, you will abolish. Even +these, however, may repel from vice the ingenuous and graceful spirit, +and can never lead any such toward them. Never have you taken an +inhuman pleasure in blunting and fusing the affections at the furnace +of the passions; never, in hardening by sour sagacity and ungenial +strictures, that delicacy which is more productive of innocence and +happiness, more estranged from every track and tendency of their +opposites, than what in cold, crude systems hath holden the place and +dignity of the highest virtue. May you live, O my friend, in the +enjoyment of health, to substitute the facetious for the licentious, +the simple for the extravagant, the true and characteristic for the +indefinite and diffuse. + + * * * * * + +_Boccaccio._ And after all this, can you bear to think what I am? + +_Petrarca._ Complacently and joyfully; venturing, nevertheless, to +offer you a friend's advice. + +Enter into the mind and heart of your own creatures: think of them +long, entirely, solely: never of style, never of self, never of +critics, cracked or sound. Like the miles of an open country, and of +an ignorant population, when they are correctly measured they become +smaller. In the loftiest rooms and richest entablatures are suspended +the most spider-webs; and the quarry out of which palaces are erected +is the nursery of nettle and bramble. + +_Boccaccio._ It is better to keep always in view such writers as +Cicero, than to run after those idlers who throw stones that can never +reach us. + +_Petrarca._ If you copied him to perfection, and on no occasion lost +sight of him, you would be an indifferent, not to say a bad writer. + +_Boccaccio._ I begin to think you are in the right. Well then, +retrenching some of my licentious tales, I must endeavour to fill up +the vacancy with some serious and some pathetic. + +_Petrarca._ I am heartily glad to hear of this decision; for, +admirable as you are in the jocose, you descend from your natural +position when you come to the convivial and the festive. You were +placed among the Affections, to move and master them, and gifted with +the rod that sweetens the fount of tears. My nature leads me also to +the pathetic; in which, however, an imbecile writer may obtain +celebrity. Even the hard-hearted are fond of such reading, when they +are fond of any; and nothing is easier in the world than to find and +accumulate its sufferings. Yet this very profusion and luxuriance of +misery is the reason why few have excelled in describing it. The eye +wanders over the mass without noticing the peculiarities. To mark them +distinctly is the work of genius; a work so rarely performed, that, if +time and space may be compared, specimens of it stand at wider +distances than the trophies of Sesostris. Here we return again to the +_Inferno_ of Dante, who overcame the difficulty. In this vast desert +are its greater and its less oasis; Ugolino and Francesca di Rimini. +The peopled region is peopled chiefly with monsters and moschitoes: +the rest for the most part is sand and suffocation. + +_Boccaccio._ Ah! had Dante remained through life the pure solitary +lover of Bice, his soul had been gentler, tranquiller, and more +generous. He scarcely hath described half the curses he went through, +nor the roads he took on the journey: theology, politics, and that +barbican of the _Inferno_, marriage, surrounded with its + + Selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte. + +Admirable is indeed the description of Ugolino, to whoever can endure +the sight of an old soldier gnawing at the scalp of an old archbishop. + +_Petrarca._ The thirty lines from + + Ed io sentii, + +are unequalled by any other continuous thirty in the whole dominions +of poetry. + +_Boccaccio._ Give me rather the six on Francesca: for if in the former +I find the simple, vigorous, clear narration, I find also what I would +not wish, the features of Ugolino reflected full in Dante. The two +characters are similar in themselves; hard, cruel, inflexible, +malignant, but, whenever moved, moved powerfully. In Francesca, with +the faculty of divine spirits, he leaves his own nature (not indeed +the exact representative of theirs) and converts all his strength into +tenderness. The great poet, like the original man of the Platonists, +is double, possessing the further advantage of being able to drop one +half at his option, and to resume it. Some of the tenderest on paper +have no sympathies beyond; and some of the austerest in their +intercourse with their fellow-creatures have deluged the world with +tears. It is not from the rose that the bee gathers her honey, but +often from the most acrid and the most bitter leaves and petals: + + Quando leggemmo il disiato viso + Esser baciato di cotanto amante, + Questi, chi mai da me non sia diviso! + La bocca mi bacio tutto tremante ... + _Galeotto_ fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse ... + Quel giorno piu non vi leggemmo avante. + +In the midst of her punishment, Francesca, when she comes to the +tenderest part of her story, tells it with complacency and delight; +and, instead of naming Paolo, which indeed she never has done from the +beginning, she now designates him as + + Questi chi mai da me non sia diviso! + +Are we not impelled to join in her prayer, wishing them happier in +their union? + +_Petrarca._ If there be no sin in it. + +_Boccaccio._ Ay, and even if there be ... God help us! + +What a sweet aspiration in each cesura of the verse! three love-sighs +fixed and incorporate! Then, when she hath said + + La bocca mi bacio, tutto tremante, + +she stops: she would avert the eyes of Dante from her: he looks for +the sequel: she thinks he looks severely: she says: '_Galeotto_ is the +name of the book,' fancying by this timorous little flight she has +drawn him far enough from the nest of her young loves. No, the eagle +beak of Dante and his piercing eyes are yet over her. + +'_Galeotto_ is the name of the book.' + +'What matters that?' + +'And of the writer.' + +'Or that either?' + +At last she disarms him: but how? + +'_That_ day we read no more.' + +Such a depth of intuitive judgment, such a delicacy of perception, +exists not in any other work of human genius; and from an author who, +on almost all occasions, in this part of the work, betrays a +deplorable want of it. + +_Petrarca._ Perfection of poetry! The greater is my wonder at +discovering nothing else of the same order or cast in this whole +section of the poem. He who fainted at the recital of Francesca, + + And he who fell as a dead body falls, + +would exterminate all the inhabitants of every town in Italy! What +execrations against Florence, Pistoia, Siena, Pisa, Genoa! what hatred +against the whole human race! what exultation and merriment at eternal +and immitigable sufferings! Seeing this, I cannot but consider the +_Inferno_ as the most immoral and impious book that ever was written. +Yet, hopeless that our country shall ever see again such poetry, and +certain that without it our future poets would be more feebly urged +forward to excellence, I would have dissuaded Dante from cancelling +it, if this had been his intention. Much however as I admire his +vigour and severity of style in the description of Ugolino, I +acknowledge with you that I do not discover so much imagination, so +much creative power, as in the Francesca. I find indeed a minute +detail of probable events: but this is not all I want in a poet: it is +not even all I want most in a scene of horror. Tribunals of justice, +dens of murderers, wards of hospitals, schools of anatomy, will afford +us nearly the same sensations, if we hear them from an accurate +observer, a clear reporter, a skilful surgeon, or an attentive nurse. +There is nothing of sublimity in the horrific of Dante, which there +always is in Aeschylus and Homer. If you, Giovanni, had described so +nakedly the reception of Guiscardo's heart by Gismonda, or Lorenzo's +head by Lisabetta, we could hardly have endured it. + +_Boccaccio._ Prithee, dear Francesco, do not place me over Dante: I +stagger at the idea of approaching him. + +_Petrarca._ Never think I am placing you blindly or indiscriminately. +I have faults to find with you, and even here. Lisabetta should by no +means have been represented cutting off the head of her lover, '_as +well as she could_,' with a clasp-knife. This is shocking and +improbable. She might have found it already cut off by her brothers, +in order to bury the corpse more commodiously and expeditiously. Nor +indeed is it likely that she should have entrusted it to her +waiting-maid, who carried home in her bosom a treasure so dear to her, +and found so unexpectedly and so lately. + +_Boccaccio._ That is true: I will correct the oversight. Why do we +never hear of our faults until everybody knows them, and until they +stand in record against us? + +_Petrarca._ Because our ears are closed to truth and friendship for +some time after the triumphal course of composition. We are too +sensitive for the gentlest touch; and when we really have the most +infirmity, we are angry to be told that we have any. + +_Boccaccio._ Ah, Francesco! thou art poet from scalp to heel: but what +other would open his breast as thou hast done! They show +ostentatiously far worse weaknesses; but the most honest of the tribe +would forswear himself on this. Again, I acknowledge it, you have +reason to complain of Lisabetta and Gismonda. + + * * * * * + +_Petrarca._ In my delight to listen to you after so long an absence, I +have been too unwary; and you have been speaking too much for one +infirm. Greatly am I to blame, not to have moderated my pleasure and +your vivacity. You must rest now: to-morrow we will renew our +conversation. + +_Boccaccio._ God bless thee, Francesco! I shall be talking with thee +all night in my slumbers. Never have I seen thee with such pleasure as +to-day, excepting when I was deemed worthy by our fellow-citizens of +bearing to thee, and of placing within this dear hand of thine, the +sentence of recall from banishment, and when my tears streamed over +the ordinance as I read it, whereby thy paternal lands were redeemed +from the public treasury. + +Again God bless thee! Those tears were not quite exhausted: take the +last of them. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[14] It may puzzle an Englishman to read the lines beginning with +'Modicum', so as to give the metre. The secret is, to draw out _et_ +into a disyllable, et-te, as the Italians do, who pronounce Latin +verse, if possible, worse than we, adding a syllable to such as end +with a consonant. + + +THIRD DAY'S INTERVIEW + +It being now the Lord's day, Messer Francesco thought it meet that he +should rise early in the morning and bestir himself, to hear mass in +the parish church at Certaldo. Whereupon he went on tiptoe, if so +weighty a man could indeed go in such a fashion, and lifted softly the +latch of Ser Giovanni's chamber door, that he might salute him ere he +departed, and occasion no wonder at the step he was about to take. He +found Ser Giovanni fast asleep, with the missal wide open across his +nose, and a pleasant smile on his genial, joyous mouth. Ser Francesco +leaned over the couch, closed his hands together, and looking with +even more than his usual benignity, said in a low voice: + +'God bless thee, gentle soul! the mother of purity and innocence +protect thee!' + +He then went into the kitchen, where he found the girl Assunta, and +mentioned his resolution. She informed him that the horse had eaten +his two beans,[15] and was as strong as a lion and as ready as a +lover. Ser Francesco patted her on the cheek, and called her +_semplicetta_! She was overjoyed at this honour from so great a man, +the bosom friend of her good master, whom she had always thought the +greatest man in the world, not excepting Monsignore, until he told her +he was only a dog confronted with Ser Francesco. She tripped alertly +across the paved court into the stable, and took down the saddle and +bridle from the farther end of the rack. But Ser Francesco, with his +natural politeness, would not allow her to equip his palfrey. + +'This is not the work for maidens,' said he; 'return to the house, +good girl!' + +She lingered a moment, then went away; but, mistrusting the dexterity +of Ser Francesco, she stopped and turned back again, and peeped +through the half-closed door, and heard sundry sobs and wheezes round +about the girth. Ser Francesco's wind ill seconded his intention; and, +although he had thrown the saddle valiantly and stoutly in its +station, yet the girths brought him into extremity. She entered again, +and dissembling the reason, asked him whether he would not take a +small beaker of the sweet white wine before he set out, and offered to +girdle the horse while his Reverence bitted and bridled him. Before +any answer could be returned, she had begun. And having now +satisfactorily executed her undertaking, she felt irrepressible +delight and glee at being able to do what Ser Francesco had failed in. +He was scarcely more successful with his allotment of the labour; +found unlooked-for intricacies and complications in the machinery, +wondered that human wit could not simplify it, and declared that the +animal had never exhibited such restiveness before. In fact, he never +had experienced the same grooming. At this conjuncture, a green cap +made its appearance, bound with straw-coloured ribbon, and surmounted +with two bushy sprigs of hawthorn, of which the globular buds were +swelling, and some bursting, but fewer yet open. It was young +Simplizio Nardi, who sometimes came on the Sunday morning to sweep the +courtyard for Assunta. + +'Oh! this time you are come just when you were wanted,' said the girl. + +'Bridle, directly, Ser Francesco's horse, and then go away about your +business.' + +The youth blushed, and kissed Ser Francesco's hand, begging his +permission. It was soon done. He then held the stirrup; and Ser +Francesco, with scarcely three efforts, was seated and erect on the +saddle. The horse, however, had somewhat more inclination for the +stable than for the expedition; and, as Assunta was handing to the +rider his long ebony staff, bearing an ivory caduceus, the quadruped +turned suddenly round. Simplizio called him _bestiaccia_! and then, +softening it, _poco garbato_! and proposed to Ser Francesco that he +should leave the bastone behind, and take the crab-switch he presented +to him, giving at the same time a sample of its efficacy, which +covered the long grizzle hair of the worthy quadruped with a profusion +of pink blossoms, like embroidery. The offer was declined; but Assunta +told Simplizio to carry it himself, and to walk by the side of Ser +Canonico quite up to the church porch, having seen what a sad, +dangerous beast his reverence had under him. + +With perfect good will, partly in the pride of obedience to Assunta, +and partly to enjoy the renown of accompanying a canon of Holy Church, +Simplizio did as she enjoined. + +And now the sound of village bells, in many hamlets and convents and +churches out of sight, was indistinctly heard, and lost again; and at +last the five of Certaldo seemed to crow over the faintness of them +all. The freshness of the morning was enough of itself to excite the +spirits of youth; a portion of which never fails to descend on years +that are far removed from it, if the mind has partaken in innocent +mirth while it was its season and its duty to enjoy it. Parties of +young and old passed the canonico and his attendant with mute respect, +bowing and bare-headed; for that ebony staff threw its spell over the +tongue, which the frank and hearty salutation of the bearer was +inadequate to break. Simplizio, once or twice, attempted to call back +an intimate of the same age with himself; but the utmost he could +obtain was a _riveritissimo_! and a genuflexion to the rider. It is +reported that a heart-burning rose up from it in the breast of a +cousin, some days after, too distinctly apparent in the long-drawn +appellation of _Gnor_[16] Simplizio. + +Ser Francesco moved gradually forward, his steed picking his way along +the lane, and looking fixedly on the stones with all the sobriety of a +mineralogist. He himself was well satisfied with the pace, and told +Simplizio to be sparing of the switch, unless in case of a hornet or a +gadfly. Simplizio smiled, toward the hedge, and wondered at the +condescension of so great a theologian and astrologer, in joking with +him about the gadflies and hornets in the beginning of April. 'Ah! +there are men in the world who can make wit out of anything!' said he +to himself. + +As they approached the walls of the town, the whole country was +pervaded by a stirring and diversified air of gladness. Laughter and +songs and flutes and viols, inviting voices and complying responses, +mingled with merry bells and with processional hymns, along the +woodland paths and along the yellow meadows. It was really the _Lord's +Day_, for He made His creatures happy in it, and their hearts were +thankful. Even the cruel had ceased from cruelty; and the rich man +alone exacted from the animal his daily labour. Ser Francesco made +this remark, and told his youthful guide that he had never been before +where he could not walk to church on a Sunday; and that nothing should +persuade him to urge the speed of his beast, on the seventh day, +beyond his natural and willing foot's-pace. He reached the gates of +Certaldo more than half an hour before the time of service, and he +found laurels suspended over them, and being suspended; and many +pleasant and beautiful faces were protruded between the ranks of +gentry and clergy who awaited him. Little did he expect such an +attendance; but Fra Biagio of San Vivaldo, who himself had offered no +obsequiousness or respect, had scattered the secret of his visit +throughout the whole country. A young poet, the most celebrated in the +town, approached the canonico with a long scroll of verses, which fell +below the knee, beginning: + + How shall we welcome our illustrious guest? + +To which Ser Francesco immediately replied: 'Take your favourite +maiden, lead the dance with her, and bid all your friends follow; you +have a good half-hour for it.' + +Universal applauses succeeded, the music struck up, couples were +instantly formed. The gentry on this occasion led out the +cittadinanza, as they usually do in the villeggiatura, rarely in the +carnival, and never at other times. The elder of the priests stood +round in their sacred vestments, and looked with cordiality and +approbation on the youths, whose hands and arms could indeed do much, +and did it, but whose active eyes could rarely move upward the +modester of their partners. + +While the elder of the clergy were thus gathering the fruits of their +liberal cares and paternal exhortations, some of the younger looked on +with a tenderer sentiment, not unmingled with regret. Suddenly the +bells ceased; the figure of the dance was broken; all hastened into +the church; and many hands that joined on the green, met together at +the font, and touched the brow reciprocally with its lustral waters, +in soul-devotion. + +After the service, and after a sermon a good church-hour in length to +gratify him, enriched with compliments from all authors, Christian and +Pagan, informing him at the conclusion that, although he had been +crowned in the Capitol, he must die, being born mortal, Ser Francesco +rode homeward. The sermon seemed to have sunk deeply into him, and +even into the horse under him, for both of them nodded, both snorted, +and one stumbled. Simplizio was twice fain to cry: + +'Ser Canonico! Riverenza! in this country if we sleep before dinner it +does us harm. There are stones in the road, Ser Canonico, loose as +eggs in a nest, and pretty nigh as thick together, huge as mountains.' + +'Good lad!' said Ser Francesco, rubbing his eyes, 'toss the biggest of +them out of the way, and never mind the rest.' + +The horse, although he walked, shuffled almost into an amble as he +approached the stable, and his master looked up at it with nearly the +same contentment. Assunta had been ordered to wait for his return, and +cried: + +'O Ser Francesco! you are looking at our long apricot, that runs the +whole length of the stable and barn, covered with blossoms as the old +white hen is with feathers. You must come in the summer, and eat this +fine fruit with Signor Padrone. You cannot think how ruddy and golden +and sweet and mellow it is. There are peaches in all the fields, and +plums, and pears, and apples, but there is not another apricot for +miles and miles. Ser Giovanni brought the stone from Naples before I +was born: a lady gave it to him when she had eaten only half the fruit +off it: but perhaps you may have seen her, for you have ridden as far +as Rome, or beyond. Padrone looks often at the fruit, and eats it +willingly; and I have seen him turn over the stones in his plate, and +choose one out from the rest, and put it into his pocket, but never +plant it.' + +'Where is the youth?' inquired Ser Francesco. + +'Gone away,' answered the maiden. + +'I wanted to thank him,' said the Canonico. + +'May I tell him so?' asked she. + +'And give him ...' continued he, holding a piece of silver. + +'I will give him something of my own, if he goes on and behaves well,' +said she; 'but Signor Padrone would drive him away for ever, I am +sure, if he were tempted in an evil hour to accept a quattrino for any +service he could render the friends of the house.' + +Ser Francesco was delighted with the graceful animation of this +ingenuous girl, and asked her, with a little curiosity, how she could +afford to make him a present. + +'I do not intend to make him a present,' she replied: 'but it is +better he should be rewarded by me,' she blushed and hesitated, 'or by +Signor Padrone,' she added, 'than by your reverence. He has not done +half his duty yet; not half. I will teach him: he is quite a child; +four months younger than me.' + +Ser Francesco went into the house, saying to himself at the doorway: + +'Truth, innocence, and gentle manners have not yet left the earth. +There are sermons that never make the ears weary. I have heard but few +of them, and come from church for this.' + +Whether Simplizio had obeyed some private signal from Assunta, or +whether his own delicacy had prompted him to disappear, he was now +again in the stable, and the manger was replenished with hay. A bucket +was soon after heard ascending from the well; and then two words: +'Thanks, Simplizio.' + +When Petrarca entered the chamber, he found Boccaccio with his +breviary in his hand, not looking into it indeed, but repeating a +thanksgiving in an audible and impassioned tone of voice. Seeing Ser +Francesco, he laid the book down beside him, and welcomed him. + +'I hope you have an appetite after your ride,' said he, 'for you have +sent home a good dinner before you.' + +Ser Francesco did not comprehend him, and expressed it not in words +but in looks. + +'I am afraid you will dine sadly late to-day: noon has struck this +half-hour, and you must wait another, I doubt. However, by good luck, +I had a couple of citrons in the house, intended to assuage my thirst +if the fever had continued. This being over, by God's mercy, I will +try (please God!) whether we two greyhounds cannot be a match for a +leveret.' + +'How is this?' said Ser Francesco. + +'Young Marc-Antonio Grilli, the cleverest lad in the parish at noosing +any wild animal, is our patron of the feast. He has wanted for many a +day to say something in the ear of Matilda Vercelli. Bringing up the +leveret to my bedside, and opening the lips, and cracking the +knuckles, and turning the foot round to show the quality and quantity +of the hair upon it, and to prove that it really and truly was a +leveret, and might be eaten without offence to my teeth, he informed +me that he had left his mother in the yard, ready to dress it for me; +she having been cook to the prior. He protested he owed the _crowned +martyr_ a forest of leverets, boars, deers, and everything else within +them, for having commanded the most backward girls to dance directly. +Whereupon he darted forth at Matilda, saying, "The _crowned martyr_ +orders it," seizing both her hands, and swinging her round before she +knew what she was about. He soon had an opportunity of applying a +word, no doubt as dexterously as hand or foot; and she said +submissively, but seriously, and almost sadly, "Marc-Antonio, now all +the people have seen it, they will think it." + +'And after a pause: + +'"I am quite ashamed: and so should you be: are not you now?" + +'The others had run into the church. Matilda, who scarcely had noticed +it, cried suddenly: + +'"O Santissima! we are quite alone." + +'"Will you be mine?" cried he, enthusiastically. + +'"Oh! they will hear you in the church," replied she. + +'"They shall, they shall," cried he again, as loudly. + +'"If you will only go away." + +'"And then?" + +'"Yes, yes, indeed." + +'"The Virgin hears you: fifty saints are witnesses." + +'"Ah! they know you made me: they will look kindly on us." + +'He released her hand: she ran into the church, doubling her veil (I +will answer for her) at the door, and kneeling as near it as she could +find a place. + +'"By St. Peter," said Marc-Antonio, "if there is a leveret in the +wood, the _crowned martyr_ shall dine upon it this blessed day." And +he bounded off, and set about his occupation. I inquired what induced +him to designate you by such a title. He answered, that everybody knew +you had received the crown of martyrdom at Rome, between the pope and +antipope, and had performed many miracles, for which they had +canonized you, and that you wanted only to die to become a saint.' + +The leveret was now served up, cut into small pieces, and covered with +a rich tenacious sauce, composed of sugar, citron, and various spices. +The appetite of Ser Francesco was contagious. Never was dinner more +enjoyed by two companions, and never so much by a greater number. One +glass of a fragrant wine, the colour of honey, and unmixed with water, +crowned the repast. Ser Francesco then went into his own chamber, and +found, on his ample mattress, a cool, refreshing sleep, quite +sufficient to remove all the fatigues of the morning; and Ser Giovanni +lowered the pillow against which he had seated himself, and fell into +his usual repose. Their separation was not of long continuance: and, +the religious duties of the Sabbath having been performed, a few +reflections on literature were no longer interdicted. + + * * * * * + +_Petrarca._ The land, O Giovanni, of your early youth, the land of my +only love, fascinates us no longer. Italy is our country; and not ours +only, but every man's, wherever may have been his wanderings, wherever +may have been his birth, who watches with anxiety the recovery of the +Arts, and acknowledges the supremacy of Genius. Besides, it is in +Italy at last that all our few friends are resident. Yours were left +behind you at Paris in your adolescence, if indeed any friendship can +exist between a Florentine and a Frenchman: mine at Avignon were +Italians, and older for the most part than myself. Here we know that +we are beloved by some, and esteemed by many. It indeed gave me +pleasure the first morning as I lay in bed, to overhear the fondness +and earnestness which a worthy priest was expressing in your behalf. + +_Boccaccio._ In mine? + +_Petrarca._ Yes indeed: what wonder? + +_Boccaccio._ A worthy priest? + +_Petrarca._ None else, certainly. + +_Boccaccio._ Heard in bed! dreaming, dreaming; ay? + +_Petrarca._ No indeed: my eyes and ears were wide open. + +_Boccaccio._ The little parlour opens into your room. But what priest +could that be? Canonico Casini? He only comes when we have a roast of +thrushes, or some such small matter, at table: and this is not the +season; they are pairing. Plover eggs might tempt him hitherward. If +he heard a plover he would not be easy, and would fain make her drop +her oblation before she had settled her nest. + +_Petrarca._ It is right and proper that you should be informed who the +clergyman was, to whom you are under an obligation. + +_Boccaccio._ Tell me something about it, for truly I am at a loss to +conjecture. + +_Petrarca._ He must unquestionably have been expressing a kind and +ardent solicitude for your eternal welfare. The first words I heard on +awakening were these: + +'Ser Giovanni, although the best of masters ...' + +_Boccaccio._ Those were Assuntina's. + +_Petrarca._ '... may hardly be quite so holy (not being priest or +friar) as your Reverence.' + +She was interrupted by the question: 'What conversation holdeth he?' + +She answered: + +'He never talks of loving our neighbour with all our heart, all our +soul, and all our strength, although he often gives away the last loaf +in the pantry.' + +_Boccaccio._ It was she! Why did she say that? the slut! + +_Petrarca._ 'He doth well,' replied the confessor. 'Of the Church, of +the brotherhood, that is, of me, what discourses holdeth he?' + +I thought the question an indiscreet one; but confessors vary in their +advances to the seat of truth. + +She proceeded to answer: + +'He never said anything about the power of the Church to absolve us, +if we should happen to go astray a little in good company, like your +Reverence.' + +Here, it is easy to perceive, is some slight ambiguity. Evidently she +meant to say, by the seduction of 'bad' company, and to express that +his Reverence had asserted his power of absolution; which is +undeniable. + +_Boccaccio._ I have my version. + +_Petrarca._ What may yours be? + +_Boccaccio._ Frate Biagio; broad as daylight; the whole frock round! + +I would wager a flask of oil against a turnip, that he laid another +trap for a penance. Let us see how he went on. I warrant, as he +warmed, he left off limping in his paces, and bore hard upon the +bridle. + +_Petrarca._ 'Much do I fear,' continued the expositor, 'he never spoke +to thee, child, about another world.' + +There was a silence of some continuance. + +'Speak!' said the confessor. + +'No indeed he never did, poor Padrone!' was the slow and evidently +reluctant avowal of the maiden; for, in the midst of the +acknowledgment her sighs came through the crevices of the door: then, +without any farther interrogation, and with little delay, she added: + +'But he often makes this look like it.' + +_Boccaccio._ And now, if he had carried a holy scourge, it would not +have been on his shoulders that he would have laid it. + +_Petrarca._ Zeal carries men often too far afloat; and confessors in +general wish to have the sole steerage of the conscience. When she +told him that your benignity made this world another heaven, he warmly +and sharply answered: + +'It is only we who ought to do that.' + +'Hush,' said the maiden; and I verily believe she at that moment set +her back against the door, to prevent the sounds from coming through +the crevices, for the rest of them seemed to be just over my +night-cap. 'Hush,' said she, in the whole length of that softest of +all articulations. 'There is Ser Francesco in the next room: he sleeps +long into the morning, but he is so clever a clerk, he may understand +you just the same. I doubt whether he thinks Ser Giovanni in the wrong +for making so many people quite happy; and if he should, it would +grieve me very much to think he blamed Ser Giovanni.' + +'Who is Ser Francesco?' he asked, in a low voice. + +'Ser Canonico,' she answered. + +'Of what Duomo?' continued he. + +'Who knows?' was the reply; 'but he is Padrone's heart's friend, for +certain.' + +'Cospetto di Bacco! It can then be no other than Petrarca. He makes +rhymes and love like the devil. Don't listen to him, or you are +undone. Does he love you too, as well as Padrone?' he asked, still +lowering his voice. + +'I cannot tell that matter,' she answered, somewhat impatiently; 'but +I love him.' + +'To my face!' cried he, smartly. + +'To the Santissima!' replied she, instantaneously; 'for have not I +told your Reverence he is Padrone's true heart's friend! And are not +you my confessor, when you come on purpose?' + +'True, true!' answered he; 'but there are occasions when we are +shocked by the confession, and wish it made less daringly.' + +'I was bold; but who can help loving him who loves my good Padrone?' +said she, much more submissively. + +_Boccaccio._ Brave girl, for that! + +Dog of a Frate! They are all of a kidney; all of a kennel. I would +dilute their meal well and keep them low. They should not waddle and +wallop in every hollow lane, nor loll out their watery tongues at +every wash-pool in the parish. We shall hear, I trust, no more about +Fra Biagio in the house while you are with us. Ah! were it then for +life. + +_Petrarca._ The man's prudence may be reasonably doubted, but it were +uncharitable to question his sincerity. Could a neighbour, a religious +one in particular, be indifferent to the welfare of Boccaccio, or any +belonging to him? + +_Boccaccio._ I do not complain of his indifference. Indifferent! no, +not he. He might as well be, though. My villetta here is my castle: it +was my father's; it was his father's. Cowls did not hang to dry upon +the same cord with caps in their podere; they shall not in mine. The +girl is an honest girl, Francesco, though I say it. Neither she nor +any other shall be befooled and bamboozled under my roof. Methinks +Holy Church might contrive some improvement upon confession. + +_Petrarca._ Hush! Giovanni! But, it being a matter of discipline, who +knows but she might. + +_Boccaccio._ Discipline! ay, ay, ay! faith and troth there are some +who want it. + +_Petrarca._ You really terrify me. These are sad surmises. + +_Boccaccio._ Sad enough: but I am keeper of my handmaiden's probity. + +_Petrarca._ It could not be kept safer. + +_Boccaccio._ I wonder what the Frate would be putting into her head? + +_Petrarca._ Nothing, nothing: be assured. + +_Boccaccio._ Why did he ask her all those questions? + +_Petrarca._ Confessors do occasionally take circuitous ways to arrive +at the secrets of the human heart. + +_Boccaccio._ And sometimes they drive at it, me thinks, a whit too +directly. He had no business to make remarks about me. + +_Petrarca._ Anxiety. + +_Boccaccio._ 'Fore God, Francesco, he shall have more of that; for I +will shut him out the moment I am again up and stirring, though he +stand but a nose's length off. I have no fear about the girl; no +suspicion of her. He might whistle to the moon on a frosty night, and +expect as reasonably her descending. Never was a man so entirely at +his ease as I am about that; never, never. She is adamant; a bright +sword now first unscabbarded; no breath can hang about it. A seal of +beryl, of chrysolite, of ruby; to make impressions (all in good time +and proper place though) and receive none: incapable, just as they +are, of splitting, or cracking, or flawing, or harbouring dirt. Let +him mind that. Such, I assure you, is that poor little wench, +Assuntina. + +_Petrarca._ I am convinced that so well-behaved a young creature as +Assunta---- + +_Boccaccio._ Right! Assunta is her name by baptism; we usually call +her Assuntina, because she is slender, and scarcely yet full-grown, +perhaps: but who can tell? + +As for those friars, I never was a friend to impudence: I hate loose +suggestions. In girls' minds you will find little dust but what is +carried there by gusts from without. They seldom want sweeping; when +they do, the broom should be taken from behind the house door, and the +master should be the sacristan. + +... Scarcely were these words uttered when Assunta was heard running +up the stairs; and the next moment she rapped. Being ordered to come +in, she entered with a willow twig in her hand, from the middle of +which willow twig (for she held the two ends together) hung a fish, +shining with green and gold. + +'What hast there, young maiden?' said Ser Francesco. + +'A fish, Riverenza!' answered she. 'In Tuscany we call it _tinca_.' + +_Petrarca._ I too am a little of a Tuscan. + +_Assunta._ Indeed! well, you really speak very like one, but only more +sweetly and slowly. I wonder how you can keep up with Signor +Padrone--he talks fast when he is in health; and you have made him so. +Why did not you come before? Your Reverence has surely been at +Certaldo in time past. + +_Petrarca._ Yes, before thou wert born. + +_Assunta._ Ah, sir! it must have been long ago then. + +_Petrarca._ Thou hast just entered upon life. + +_Assunta._ I am no child. + +_Petrarca._ What then art thou? + +_Assunta._ I know not: I have lost both father and mother; there is a +name for such as I am. + +_Petrarca._ And a place in heaven. + +_Boccaccio._ Who brought us that fish, Assunta? hast paid for it? +there must be seven pounds: I never saw the like. + +_Assunta._ I could hardly lift up my apron to my eyes with it in my +hand. Luca, who brought it all the way from the Padule, could scarcely +be entreated to eat a morsel of bread or sit down. + +_Boccaccio._ Give him a flask or two of our wine; he will like it +better than the sour puddle of the plain. + +_Assunta._ He is gone back. + +_Boccaccio._ Gone! who is he, pray? + +_Assunta._ Luca, to be sure. + +_Boccaccio._ What Luca? + +_Assunta._ Dominedio! O Riverenza! how sadly must Ser Giovanni, my +poor Padrone, have lost his memory in this cruel long illness! he +cannot recollect young Luca of the Bientola, who married Maria. + +_Boccaccio._ I never heard of either, to the best of my knowledge. + +_Assunta._ Be pleased to mention this in your prayers to-night, Ser +Canonico! May Our Lady soon give him back his memory! and everything +else she has been pleased (only in play, I hope) to take away from +him! Ser Francesco, you must have heard all over the world how Maria +Gargarelli, who lived in the service of our paroco, somehow was +outwitted by Satanasso. Monsignore thought the paroco had not done all +he might have done against his wiles and craftiness, and sent his +Reverence over to the monastery in the mountains, Laverna yonder, to +make him look sharp; and there he is yet. + +And now does Signor Padrone recollect? + +_Boccaccio._ Rather more distinctly. + +_Assunta._ Ah me! Rather more distinctly! have patience, Signor +Padrone! I am too venturous, God help me! But, Riverenza, when Maria +was the scorn or the abhorrence of everybody else, excepting poor Luca +Sabbatini, who had always cherished her, and excepting Signor Padrone, +who had never seen her in his lifetime ... for paroco Snello said he +desired no visits from any who took liberties with Holy Church ... as +if Padrone did! Luca one day came to me out of breath, with money in +his hand for our duck. Now it so happened that the duck, stuffed with +noble chestnuts, was going to table at that instant. I told Signor +Padrone.... + +_Boccaccio._ Assunta, I never heard thee repeat so long and tiresome a +story before, nor put thyself out of breath so. Come, we have had +enough of it. + +_Petrarca._ She is mortified: pray let her proceed. + +_Boccaccio._ As you will. + +_Assunta._ I told Signor Padrone how Luca was lamenting that Maria was +seized with an _imagination_. + +_Petrarca._ No wonder then she fell into misfortune, and her +neighbours and friends avoided her. + +_Assunta._ Riverenza! how can you smile? Signor Padrone! and you too? +You shook your head and sighed at it when it happened. The Demonio, +who had caused all the first mischief, was not contented until he had +given her the _imagination_. + +_Petrarca._ He could not have finished his work more effectually. + +_Assunta._ He was balked, however. Luca said: + +'She shall not die under her wrongs, please God!' + +I repeated the words to Signor Padrone.... He seems to listen, +Riverenza! and will remember presently ... and Signor Padrone cut away +one leg for himself, clean forgetting all the chestnuts inside, and +said sharply, 'Give the bird to Luca; and, hark ye, bring back the +minestra.' + +Maria loved Luca with all her heart, and Luca loved Maria with all +his: but they both hated paroco Snello for such neglect about the evil +one. And even Monsignore, who sent for Luca on purpose, had some +difficulty in persuading him to forbear from choler and discourse. For +Luca, who never swears, swore bitterly that the devil should play no +such tricks again, nor alight on girls napping in the parsonage. +Monsignore thought he intended to take violent possession, and to keep +watch there himself without consent of the incumbent. 'I will have no +scandal,' said Monsignore; so there was none. Maria, though she did +indeed, as I told your Reverence, love her Luca dearly, yet she long +refused to marry him, and cried very much at last on the wedding day, +and said, as she entered the porch: + +'Luca! it is not yet too late to leave me.' + +He would have kissed her, but her face was upon his shoulder. + +Pievano Locatelli married them, and gave them his blessing: and going +down from the altar, he said before the people, as he stood on the +last step: 'Be comforted, child! be comforted! God above knows that +thy husband is honest, and that thou art innocent.' Pievano's voice +trembled, for he was an aged and holy man, and had walked two miles on +the occasion. Pulcheria, his governante, eighty years old, carried an +apronful of lilies to bestrew the altar; and partly from the lilies, +and partly from the blessed angels who (although invisible) were +present, the church was filled with fragrance. Many who heretofore had +been frightened at hearing the mention of Maria's name, ventured now +to walk up toward her; and some gave her needles, and some offered +skeins of thread, and some ran home again for pots of honey. + +_Boccaccio._ And why didst not thou take her some trifle? + +_Assunta._ I had none. + +_Boccaccio._ Surely there are always such about the premises. + +_Assunta._ Not mine to give away. + +_Boccaccio._ So then at thy hands, Assunta, she went off not +overladen. Ne'er a bone-bodkin out of thy bravery, ay? + +_Assunta._ I ran out knitting, with the woodbine and syringa in the +basket for the parlour. I made the basket ... I and ... but myself +chiefly, for boys are loiterers. + +_Boccaccio._ Well, well: why not bestow the basket, together with its +rich contents? + +_Assunta._ I am ashamed to say it ... I covered my half-stocking with +them as quickly as I could, and ran after her, and presented it. Not +knowing what was under the flowers, and never minding the liberty I +had taken, being a stranger to her, she accepted it as graciously as +possible, and bade me be happy. + +_Petrarca._ I hope you have always kept her command. + +_Assunta._ Nobody is ever unhappy here, except Fra Biagio, who frets +sometimes: but that may be the walk; or he may fancy Ser Giovanni to +be worse than he really is. + +... Having now performed her mission and concluded her narrative, she +bowed, and said: + +'Excuse me, Riverenza! excuse me, Signor Padrone! my arm aches with +this great fish.' + +Then, bowing again, and moving her eyes modestly toward each, she +added, 'with permission!' and left the chamber. + +'About the sposina,' after a pause began Ser Francesco: 'about the +sposina, I do not see the matter clearly.' + +'You have studied too much for seeing all things clearly,' answered +Ser Giovanni; 'you see only the greatest. In fine, the devil, on this +count, is acquitted by acclamation; and the paroco Snello eats lettuce +and chicory up yonder at Laverna. He has mendicant friars for his +society every day; and snails, as pure as water can wash and boil +them, for his repast on festivals. Under this discipline, if they keep +it up, surely one devil out of legion will depart from him.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[15] Literally, _due fave_, the expression on such occasions to +signify a small quantity. + +[16] Contraction of _signor_, customary in Tuscany. + + +FOURTH DAY'S INTERVIEW + +_Petrarca._ Giovanni, you are unsuspicious, and would scarcely see a +monster in a minotaur. It is well, however, to draw good out of evil, +and it is the peculiar gift of an elevated mind. Nevertheless, you +must have observed, although with greater curiosity than concern, the +slipperiness and tortuousness of your detractors. + +_Boccaccio._ Whatever they detract from me, they leave more than they +can carry away. Beside, they always are detected. + +_Petrarca._ When they are detected, they raise themselves up fiercely, +as if their nature were erect and they could reach your height. + +_Boccaccio._ Envy would conceal herself under the shadow and shelter +of contemptuousness, but she swells too huge for the den she creeps +into. Let her lie there and crack, and think no more about her. The +people you have been talking of can find no greater and no other +faults in my writings than I myself am willing to show them, and still +more willing to correct. There are many things, as you have just now +told me, very unworthy of their company. + +_Petrarca._ He who has much gold is none the poorer for having much +silver too. When a king of old displayed his wealth and magnificence +before a philosopher, the philosopher's exclamation was: + +'How many things are here which I do not want!' + +Does not the same reflection come upon us, when we have laid aside our +compositions for a time, and look into them again more leisurely? Do +we not wonder at our own profusion, and say like the philosopher: + +'How many things are here which I do not want!' + +It may happen that we pull up flowers with weeds; but better this than +rankness. We must bear to see our first-born dispatched before our +eyes, and give them up quietly. + +_Boccaccio._ The younger will be the most reluctant. There are poets +among us who mistake in themselves the freckles of the hay-fever for +beauty-spots. In another half-century their volumes will be inquired +after; but only for the sake of cutting out an illuminated letter from +the title-page, or of transplanting the willow at the end, that hangs +so prettily over the tomb of Amaryllis. If they wish to be healthy and +vigorous, let them open their bosoms to the breezes of Sunium; for the +air of Latium is heavy and overcharged. Above all, they must remember +two admonitions; first, that sweet things hurt digestion; secondly, +that great sails are ill adapted to small vessels. What is there +lovely in poetry unless there be moderation and composure? Are they +not better than the hot, uncontrollable harlotry of a flaunting, +dishevelled enthusiasm? Whoever has the power of creating, has +likewise the inferior power of keeping his creation in order. The best +poets are the most impressive, because their steps are regular; for +without regularity there is neither strength nor state. Look at +Sophocles, look at Aeschylus, look at Homer. + +_Petrarca._ I agree with you entirely to the whole extent of your +observations; and, if you will continue, I am ready to lay aside my +Dante for the present. + +_Boccaccio._ No, no; we must have him again between us: there is no +danger that he will sour our tempers. + +_Petrarca._ In comparing his and yours, since you forbid me to declare +all I think of your genius, you will at least allow me to congratulate +you as being the happier of the two. + +_Boccaccio._ Frequently, where there is great power in poetry, the +imagination makes encroachments on the heart, and uses it as her own. +I have shed tears on writings which never cost the writer a sigh, but +which occasioned him to rub the palms of his hands together, until +they were ready to strike fire, with satisfaction at having overcome +the difficulty of being tender. + +_Petrarca._ Giovanni! are you not grown satirical? + +_Boccaccio._ Not in this. It is a truth as broad and glaring as the +eye of the Cyclops. To make you amends for your shuddering, I will +express my doubt, on the other hand, whether Dante felt all the +indignation he threw into his poetry. We are immoderately fond of +warming ourselves; and we do not think, or care, what the fire is +composed of. Be sure it is not always of cedar, like Circe's. Our +Alighieri had slipped into the habit of vituperation; and he thought +it fitted him; so he never left it off. + +_Petrarca._ Serener colours are pleasanter to our eyes and more +becoming to our character. The chief desire in every man of genius is +to be thought one; and no fear or apprehension lessens it. Alighieri, +who had certainly studied the gospel, must have been conscious that he +not only was inhumane, but that he betrayed a more vindictive spirit +than any pope or prelate who is enshrined within the fretwork of his +golden grating. + +_Boccaccio._ Unhappily, his strong talon had grown into him, and it +would have pained him to suffer amputation. This eagle, unlike +Jupiter's, never loosened the thunderbolt from it under the influence +of harmony. + +_Petrarca._ The only good thing we can expect in such minds and +tempers is good poetry: let us at least get that; and, having it, let +us keep and value it. If you had never written some wanton stories, +you would never have been able to show the world how much wiser and +better you grew afterward. + +_Boccaccio._ Alas! if I live, I hope to show it. You have raised my +spirits: and now, dear Francesco! do say a couple of prayers for me, +while I lay together the materials of a tale; a right merry one, I +promise you. Faith! it shall amuse you, and pay decently for the +prayers; a good honest litany-worth. I hardly know whether I ought to +have a nun in it: do you think I may? + +_Petrarca._ Cannot you do without one? + +_Boccaccio._ No; a nun I must have: say nothing against her; I can +more easily let the abbess alone. Yet Frate Biagio ... that Frate +Biagio, who never came to visit me but when he thought I was at +extremities or asleep.... Assuntina! are you there? + +_Petrarca._ No; do you want her? + +_Boccaccio._ Not a bit. That Frate Biagio has heightened my pulse when +I could not lower it again. The very devil is that Frate for +heightening pulses. And with him I shall now make merry ... God +willing ... in God's good time ... should it be His divine will to +restore me! which I think He has begun to do miraculously. I seem to +be within a frog's leap of well again; and we will presently have some +rare fun in my _Tale of the Frate_. + +_Petrarca._ Do not openly name him. + +_Boccaccio._ He shall recognize himself by one single expression. He +said to me, when I was at the worst: + +'Ser Giovanni! it would not be much amiss (with permission!) if you +begin to think (at any spare time), just a morsel, of eternity.' + +'Ah! Fra Biagio!' answered I, contritely, 'I never heard a sermon of +yours but I thought of it seriously and uneasily, long before the +discourse was over.' + +'So must all,' replied he, 'and yet few have the grace to own it.' + +Now mind, Francesco! if it should please the Lord to call me unto Him, +I say, _The Nun and Fra Biagio_ will be found, after my decease, in +the closet cut out of the wall, behind yon Saint Zacharias in blue and +yellow. + +Well done! well done! Francesco. I never heard any man repeat his +prayers so fast and fluently. Why! how many (at a guess) have you +repeated? Such is the power of friendship, and such the habit of +religion! They have done me good: I feel myself stronger already. +To-morrow I think I shall be able, by leaning on that stout maple +stick in the corner, to walk half over my podere. + +Have you done? have you done? + +_Petrarca._ Be quiet: you may talk too much. + +_Boccaccio._ I cannot be quiet for another hour; so, if you have any +more prayers to get over, stick the spur into the other side of them: +they must verily speed, if they beat the last. + +_Petrarca._ Be more serious, dear Giovanni. + +_Boccaccio._ Never bid a convalescent be more serious: no, nor a sick +man neither. To health it may give that composure which it takes away +from sickness. Every man will have his hours of seriousness; but, like +the hours of rest, they often are ill-chosen and unwholesome. Be +assured, our heavenly Father is as well pleased to see His children in +the playground as in the schoolroom. He has provided both for us, and +has given us intimations when each should occupy us. + +_Petrarca._ You are right, Giovanni! but we know which bell is heard +the most distinctly. We fold our arms at the one, try the cooler part +of the pillow, and turn again to slumber; at the first stroke of the +other, we are beyond our monitors. As for you, hardly Dante himself +could make you grave. + +_Boccaccio._ I do not remember how it happened that we slipped away +from his side. One of us must have found him tedious. + +_Petrarca._ If you were really and substantially at his side, he would +have no mercy on you. + +_Boccaccio._ In sooth, our good Alighieri seems to have had the +appetite of a dogfish or shark, and to have bitten the harder the +warmer he was. I would not voluntarily be under his manifold rows of +dentals. He has an incisor to every saint in the calendar. I should +fare, methinks, like Brutus and the archbishop. He is forced to +stretch himself, out of sheer listlessness, in so idle a place as +Purgatory: he loses half his strength in Paradise: Hell alone makes +him alert and lively: there he moves about and threatens as +tremendously as the serpent that opposed the legions on their march +in Africa. He would not have been contented in Tuscany itself, even +had his enemies left him unmolested. Were I to write on his model a +tripartite poem, I think it should be entitled, _Earth, Italy, and +Heaven_. + +_Petrarca._ You will never give yourself the trouble. + +_Boccaccio._ I should not succeed. + +_Petrarca._ Perhaps not: but you have done very much, and may be able +to do very much more. + +_Boccaccio._ Wonderful is it to me, when I consider that an infirm and +helpless creature, as I am, should be capable of laying thoughts up in +their cabinets of words, which Time, as he rushes by, with the +revolutions of stormy and destructive years, can never move from their +places. On this coarse mattress, one among the homeliest in the fair +at Impruneta, is stretched an old burgess of Certaldo, of whom perhaps +more will be known hereafter than we know of the Ptolemies and the +Pharaohs; while popes and princes are lying as unregarded as the fleas +that are shaken out of the window. Upon my life, Francesco! to think +of this is enough to make a man presumptuous. + +_Petrarca._ No, Giovanni! not when the man thinks justly of it, as +such a man ought to do, and must. For so mighty a power over Time, who +casts all other mortals under his, comes down to us from a greater; +and it is only if we abuse the victory that it were better we had +encountered a defeat. Unremitting care must be taken that nothing soil +the monuments we are raising: sure enough we are that nothing can +subvert, and nothing but our negligence, or worse than negligence, +efface them. Under the glorious lamp entrusted to your vigilance, one +among the lights of the world, which the ministering angels of our God +have suspended for His service, let there stand, with unclosing eyes, +Integrity, Compassion, Self-denial. + +_Boccaccio._ These are holier and cheerfuller images than Dante has +been setting up before us. I hope every thesis in dispute among his +theologians will be settled ere I set foot among them. I like Tuscany +well enough: it answers all my purposes for the present: and I am +without the benefit of those preliminary studies which might render me +a worthy auditor of incomprehensible wisdom. + +_Petrarca._ I do not wonder you are attached to Tuscany. Many as have +been your visits and adventures in other parts, you have rendered it +pleasanter and more interesting than any: and indeed we can scarcely +walk in any quarter from the gates of Florence without the +recollection of some witty or affecting story related by you. Every +street, every farm, is peopled by your genius: and this population +cannot change with seasons or with ages, with factions or with +incursions. Ghibellines and Guelphs will have been contested for only +by the worms, long before the _Decameron_ has ceased to be recited on +our banks of blue lilies and under our arching vines. Another plague +may come amidst us; and something of a solace in so terrible a +visitation would be found in your pages, by those to whom letters are +a refuge and relief. + +_Boccaccio._ I do indeed think my little bevy from Santa Maria Novella +would be better company on such an occasion, than a devil with three +heads, who diverts the pain his claws inflicted, by sticking his fangs +in another place. + +_Petrarca._ This is atrocious, not terrific nor grand. Alighieri is +grand by his lights, not by his shadows; by his human affections, not +by his infernal. As the minutest sands are the labours of some +profound sea, or the spoils of some vast mountain, in like manner his +horrid wastes and wearying minutenesses are the chafings of a +turbulent spirit, grasping the loftiest things and penetrating the +deepest, and moving and moaning on the earth in loneliness and +sadness. + +_Boccaccio._ Among men he is what among waters is + + The strange, mysterious, solitary Nile. + +_Petrarca._ Is that his verse? I do not remember it. + +_Boccaccio._ No, it is mine for the present: how long it may continue +mine I cannot tell. I never run after those who steal my apples: it +would only tire me: and they are hardly worth recovering when they are +bruised and bitten, as they are usually. I would not stand upon my +verses: it is a perilous boy's trick, which we ought to leave off when +we put on square shoes. Let our prose show what we are, and our poetry +what we have been. + +_Petrarca._ You would never have given this advice to Alighieri. + +_Boccaccio._ I would never plough porphyry; there is ground fitter for +grain. Alighieri is the parent of his system, like the sun, about whom +all the worlds are but particles thrown forth from him. We may write +little things well, and accumulate one upon another; but never will +any be justly called a great poet unless he has treated a great +subject worthily. He may be the poet of the lover and of the idler, he +may be the poet of green fields or gay society; but whoever is this +can be no more. A throne is not built of birds'-nests, nor do a +thousand reeds make a trumpet. + +_Petrarca._ I wish Alighieri had blown his on nobler occasions. + +_Boccaccio._ We may rightly wish it: but, in regretting what he +wanted, let us acknowledge what he had: and never forget (which we +omitted to mention) that he borrowed less from his predecessors than +any of the Roman poets from theirs. Reasonably may it be expected that +almost all who follow will be greatly more indebted to antiquity, to +whose stores we, every year, are making some addition. + +_Petrarca._ It can be held no flaw in the title-deeds of genius, if +the same thoughts reappear as have been exhibited long ago. The +indisputable sign of defect should be looked for in the proportion +they bear to the unquestionably original. There are ideas which +necessarily must occur to minds of the like magnitude and materials, +aspect and temperature. When two ages are in the same phasis, they +will excite the same humours, and produce the same coincidences and +combinations. In addition to which, a great poet may really borrow: he +may even condescend to an obligation at the hand of an equal or +inferior: but he forfeits his title if he borrows more than the amount +of his own possessions. The nightingale himself takes somewhat of his +song from birds less glorified: and the lark, having beaten with her +wing the very gates of heaven, cools her breast among the grass. The +lowlier of intellect may lay out a table in their field, at which +table the highest one shall sometimes be disposed to partake: want +does not compel him. Imitation, as we call it, is often weakness, but +it likewise is often sympathy. + +_Boccaccio._ Our poet was seldom accessible in this quarter. Invective +picks up the first stone on the wayside, and wants leisure to consult +a forerunner. + +_Petrarca._ Dante (original enough everywhere) is coarse and clumsy in +this career. Vengeance has nothing to do with comedy, nor properly +with satire. The satirist who told us that Indignation made his verses +for him, might have been told in return that she excluded him thereby +from the first class, and thrust him among the rhetoricians and +declaimers. Lucretius, in his vituperation, is graver and more +dignified than Alighieri. Painful; to see how tolerant is the atheist, +how intolerant the Catholic: how anxiously the one removes from among +the sufferings of Mortality, her last and heaviest, the fear of a +vindictive Fury pursuing her shadow across rivers of fire and tears; +how laboriously the other brings down Anguish and Despair, even when +Death has done his work. How grateful the one is to that beneficent +philosopher who made him at peace with himself, and tolerant and +kindly toward his fellow-creatures! how importunate the other that God +should forgo His divine mercy, and hurl everlasting torments both upon +the dead and the living! + +_Boccaccio._ I have always heard that Ser Dante was a very good man +and sound Catholic: but Christ forgive me if my heart is oftener on +the side of Lucretius![17] Observe, I say, my heart; nothing more. I +devoutly hold to the sacraments and the mysteries: yet somehow I would +rather see men tranquillized than frightened out of their senses, and +rather fast asleep than burning. Sometimes I have been ready to +believe, as far as our holy faith will allow me, that it were better +our Lord were nowhere, than torturing in His inscrutable wisdom, to +all eternity, so many myriads of us poor devils, the creatures of His +hands. Do not cross thyself so thickly, Francesco! nor hang down thy +nether lip so loosely, languidly, and helplessly; for I would be a +good Catholic, alive or dead. But, upon my conscience, it goes hard +with me to think it of Him, when I hear that woodlark yonder, gushing +with joyousness, or when I see the beautiful clouds, resting so softly +one upon another, dissolving ... and not damned for it. Above all, I +am slow to apprehend it, when I remember His great goodness vouchsafed +to me, and reflect on my sinful life heretofore, chiefly in summer +time, and in cities, or their vicinity. But I was tempted beyond my +strength; and I fell as any man might do. However, this last illness, +by God's grace, has well-nigh brought me to my right mind again in all +such matters: and if I get stout in the present month, and can hold +out the next without sliding, I do verily think I am safe, or nearly +so, until the season of beccaficoes. + +_Petrarca._ Be not too confident! + +_Boccaccio._ Well, I will not be. + +_Petrarca._ But be firm. + +_Boccaccio._ Assuntina! what! are you come in again? + +_Assunta._ Did you or my master call me, Riverenza? + +_Petrarca._ No, child! + +_Boccaccio._ Oh! get you gone! Get you gone! you little rogue you! + +Francesco, I feel quite well. Your kindness to my playful creatures in +the _Decameron_ has revived me, and has put me into good humour with +the greater part of them. Are you quite certain the Madonna will not +expect me to keep my promise? You said you were: I need not ask you +again. I will accept the whole of your assurances, and half your +praises. + +_Petrarca._ To represent so vast a variety of personages so +characteristically as you have done, to give the wise all their +wisdom, the witty all their wit, and (what is harder to do +advantageously) the simple all their simplicity, requires a genius +such as you alone possess. Those who doubt it are the least dangerous +of your rivals. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[17] Qy. How much of Lucretius (or Petronius or Catullus, before +cited) was then known? + + +FIFTH DAY'S INTERVIEW + +It being now the last morning that Petrarca could remain with his +friend, he resolved to pass early into his bedchamber. Boccaccio had +risen and was standing at the open window, with his arms against it. +Renovated health sparkled in the eyes of the one; surprise and delight +and thankfulness to Heaven filled the other's with sudden tears. He +clasped Giovanni, kissed his flaccid and sallow cheek, and falling on +his knees, adored the Giver of life, the source of health to body and +soul. Giovanni was not unmoved: he bent one knee as he leaned on the +shoulder of Francesco, looking down into his face, repeating his +words, and adding: + +'Blessed be Thou, O Lord! who sendest me health again! and blessings +on Thy messenger who brought it.' + +He had slept soundly; for ere he closed his eyes he had unburdened his +mind of its freight, not only by employing the prayers appointed by +Holy Church, but likewise by ejaculating; as sundry of the fathers did +of old. He acknowledged his contrition for many transgressions, and +chiefly for uncharitable thoughts of Fra Biagio: on which occasion he +turned fairly round on his couch, and leaning his brow against the +wall, and his body being in a becomingly curved position, and proper +for the purpose, he thus ejaculated: + +'Thou knowest, O most Holy Virgin! that never have I spoken to +handmaiden at this villetta, or within my mansion at Certaldo, +wantonly or indiscreetly, but have always been, inasmuch as may be, +the guardian of innocence; deeming it better, when irregular thoughts +assailed me, to ventilate them abroad than to poison the house with +them. And if, sinner as I am, I have thought uncharitably of others, +and more especially of Fra Biagio, pardon me, out of thy exceeding +great mercies! And let it not be imputed to me, if I have kept, and +may keep hereafter, an eye over him, in wariness and watchfulness; not +otherwise. For thou knowest, O Madonna! that many who have a perfect +and unwavering faith in thee, yet do cover up their cheese from the +nibblings of vermin.' + +Whereupon, he turned round again, threw himself on his back at full +length, and feeling the sheets cool, smooth, and refreshing, folded +his arms, and slept instantaneously. The consequence of his wholesome +slumber was a calm alacrity: and the idea that his visitor would be +happy at seeing him on his feet again, made him attempt to get up: at +which he succeeded, to his own wonder. And it was increased by the +manifestation of his strength in opening the casement, stiff from +being closed, and swelled by the continuance of the rains. The morning +was warm and sunny: and it is known that on this occasion he composed +the verses below: + + My old familiar cottage-green! + I see once more thy pleasant sheen; + The gossamer suspended over + Smart celandine by lusty clover; + And the last blossom of the plum + Inviting her first leaves to come; + Which hang a little back, but show + 'Tis not their nature to say no. + I scarcely am in voice to sing + How graceful are the steps of Spring; + And ah! it makes me sigh to look + How leaps along my merry brook, + The very same to-day as when + He chirrupt first to maids and men. + +_Petrarca._ I can rejoice at the freshness of your feelings: but the +sight of the green turf reminds me rather of its ultimate use and +destination. + + For many serves the parish pall, + The turf in common serves for all. + +_Boccaccio._ Very true; and, such being the case, let us carefully +fold it up, and lay it by until we call for it. + +Francesco, you made me quite light-headed yesterday. I am rather too +old to dance either with Spring, as I have been saying, or with +Vanity: and yet I accepted her at your hand as a partner. In future, +no more of comparisons for me! You not only can do me no good, but you +can leave me no pleasure: for here I shall remain the few days I have +to live, and shall see nobody who will be disposed to remind me of +your praises. Beside, you yourself will get hated for them. We neither +can deserve praise nor receive it with impunity. + +_Petrarca._ Have you never remarked that it is into quiet water that +children throw pebbles to disturb it? and that it is into deep caverns +that the idle drop sticks and dirt? We must expect such treatment. + +_Boccaccio._ Your admonition shall have its wholesome influence over +me, when the fever your praises have excited has grown moderate. + +... After the conversation on this topic and various others had +continued some time, it was interrupted by a visitor. The clergy and +monkery at Certaldo had never been cordial with Messer Giovanni, it +being suspected that certain of his _Novelle_ were modelled on +originals in their orders. Hence, although they indeed both professed +and felt esteem for Canonico Petrarca, they abstained from expressing +it at the villetta. But Frate Biagio of San Vivaldo was (by his own +appointment) the friend of the house; and, being considered as very +expert in pharmacy, had, day after day, brought over no indifferent +store of simples, in ptisans, and other refections, during the +continuance of Ser Giovanni's ailment. Something now moved him to cast +about in his mind whether it might not appear dutiful to make another +visit. Perhaps he thought it possible that, among those who +peradventure had seen him lately on the road, one or other might +expect from him a solution of the questions, What sort of person was +the _crowned martyr_? whether he carried a palm in his hand? whether a +seam was visible across the throat? whether he wore a ring over his +glove, with a chrysolite in it, like the bishops, but representing the +city of Jerusalem and the judgment-seat of Pontius Pilate? Such were +the reports; but the inhabitants of San Vivaldo could not believe the +Certaldese, who, inhabiting the next township to them, were naturally +their enemies. Yet they might believe Frate Biagio, and certainly +would interrogate him accordingly. He formed his determination, put +his frock and hood on, and gave a curvature to his shoe, to evince his +knowledge of the world, by pushing the extremity of it with his +breast-bone against the corner of his cell. Studious of his figure and +of his attire, he walked as much as possible on his heels, to keep up +the reformation he had wrought in the workmanship of the cordwainer. +On former occasions he had borrowed a horse, as being wanted to hear +confession or to carry medicines, which might otherwise be too late. +But, having put on an entirely new habiliment, and it being the season +when horses are beginning to do the same, he deemed it prudent to +travel on foot. Approaching the villetta, his first intention was to +walk directly into his patient's room: but he found it impossible to +resist the impulses of pride, in showing Assunta his rigid and stately +frock, and shoes rather of the equestrian order than the monastic. So +he went into the kitchen where the girl was at work, having just taken +away the remains of the breakfast. + +'Frate Biagio!' cried she, 'is this you? Have you been sleeping at +Conte Jeronimo's?' + +'Not I,' replied he. + +'Why!' said she, 'those are surely his shoes! Santa Maria! you must +have put them on in the dusk of the morning, to say your prayers in! +Here! here! take these old ones of Signor Padrone, for the love of +God! I hope your Reverence met nobody.' + +_Frate._ What dost smile at? + +_Assunta._ Smile at! I could find in my heart to laugh outright, if I +only were certain that nobody had seen your Reverence in such a funny +trim. Riverenza! put on these. + +_Frate._ Not I indeed. + +_Assunta._ Allow me then? + +_Frate._ No, nor you. + +_Assunta._ Then let me stand upon yours, to push down the points. + +... Frate Biagio now began to relent a little, when Assunta, who had +made one step toward the project, bethought herself suddenly, and +said: + +'No; I might miss my footing. But, mercy upon us! what made you cramp +your Reverence with those ox-yoke shoes? and strangle your Reverence +with that hangdog collar?' + +'If you must know,' answered the Frate, reddening, 'it was because I +am making a visit to the Canonico of Parma. I should like to know +something about him: perhaps you could tell me?' + +_Assunta._ Ever so much. + +_Frate._ I thought no less: indeed I knew it. Which goes to bed first? + +_Assunta._ Both together. + +_Frate._ Demonio! what dost mean? + +_Assunta._ He tells me never to sit up waiting, but to say my prayers +and dream of the Virgin. + +_Frate._ As if it was any business of his! Does he put out his lamp +himself? + +_Assunta._ To be sure he does: why should not he? what should he be +afraid of? It is not winter: and beside, there is a mat upon the +floor, all round the bed, excepting the top and bottom. + +_Frate._ I am quite convinced he never said anything to make you +blush. Why are you silent? + +_Assunta._ I have a right. + +_Frate._ He did then? ay? Do not nod your head: that will never do. +Discreet girls speak plainly. + +_Assunta._ What would you have? + +_Frate._ The truth; the truth; again, I say, the truth. + +_Assunta._ He _did_ then. + +_Frate._ I knew it! The most dangerous man living! + +_Assunta._ Ah! indeed he is! Signor Padrone said so. + +_Frate._ He knows him of old: he warned you, it seems. + +_Assunta._ Me! He never said it was I who was in danger. + +_Frate._ He might: it was his duty. + +_Assunta._ Am I so fat? Lord! you may feel every rib. Girls who run +about as I do, slip away from apoplexy. + +_Frate._ Ho! ho! that is all, is it? + +_Assunta._ And bad enough too! that such good-natured men should ever +grow so bulky; and stand in danger, as Padrone said they both do, of +such a seizure? + +_Frate._ What? and art ready to cry about it? Old folks cannot die +easier: and there are always plenty of younger to run quick enough for +a confessor. But I must not trifle in this manner. It is my duty to +set your feet in the right way: it is my bounden duty to report to Ser +Giovanni all irregularities I know of, committed in his domicile. I +could indeed, and would, remit a trifle, on hearing the worst. Tell me +now, Assunta! tell me, you little angel! did you ... we all may, the +very best of us may, and do ... sin, my sweet? + +_Assunta._ You may be sure I did not: for whenever I sin I run into +church directly, although it snows or thunders: else I never could see +again Padrone's face, or any one's. + +_Frate._ You do not come to me. + +_Assunta._ You live at San Vivaldo. + +_Frate._ But when there is sin so pressing I am always ready to be +found. You perplex, you puzzle me. Tell me at once how he made you +blush. + +_Assunta._ Well then! + +_Frate._ Well then! you did not hang back so before him. I lose all +patience. + +_Assunta._ So famous a man!... + +_Frate._ No excuse in that. + +_Assunta._ So dear to Padrone.... + +_Frate._ The more shame for him! + +_Assunta._ Called me.... + +_Frate._ And _called_ you, did he! the traitorous swine! + +_Assunta._ Called me ... _good girl_. + +_Frate._ Psha! the wenches, I think, are all mad: but few of them in +this manner. + + * * * * * + +... Without saying another word, Fra Biagio went forward and opened +the bedchamber door, saying briskly: + +'Servant! Ser Giovanni! Ser Canonico! most devoted! most obsequious! I +venture to incommode you. Thanks to God, Ser Canonico, you are looking +well for your years. They tell me you were formerly (who would believe +it?) the handsomest man in Christendom, and worked your way glibly, +yonder at Avignon. + +'Capperi! Ser Giovanni! I never observed that you were sitting +bolt-upright in that long-backed armchair, instead of lying abed. +Quite in the right. I am rejoiced at such a change for the better. Who +advised it?' + +_Boccaccio._ So many thanks to Fra Biagio! I not only am sitting up, +but have taken a draught of fresh air at the window, and every leaf +had a little present of sunshine for me. + +There is one pleasure, Fra Biagio, which I fancy you never have +experienced, and I hardly know whether I ought to wish it you; the +first sensation of health after a long confinement. + +_Frate._ Thanks! infinite! I would take any man's word for that, +without a wish to try it. Everybody tells me I am exactly what I was a +dozen years ago; while, for my part, I see everybody changed: those +who ought to be much about my age, even those.... Per Bacco! I told +them my thoughts when they had told me theirs; and they were not so +agreeable as they used to be in former days. + +_Boccaccio._ How people hate sincerity! + +Cospetto! why, Frate! what hast got upon thy toes? Hast killed some +Tartar and tucked his bow into one, and torn the crescent from the +vizier's tent to make the other match it? Hadst thou fallen in thy +mettlesome expedition (and it is a mercy and a miracle thou didst +not) those sacrilegious shoes would have impaled thee. + +_Frate._ It was a mistake in the shoemaker. But no pain or incommodity +whatsoever could detain me from paying my duty to Ser Canonico, the +first moment I heard of his auspicious arrival, or from offering my +congratulations to Ser Giovanni, on the annunciation that he was +recovered and looking out of the window. All Tuscany was standing on +the watch for it, and the news flew like lightning. By this time it is +upon the Danube. + +And pray, Ser Canonico, how does Madonna Laura do? + +_Petrarca._ Peace to her gentle spirit! she is departed. + +_Frate._ Ay, true. I had quite forgotten: that is to say, I recollect +it. You told us as much, I think, in a poem on her death. Well, and do +you know! our friend Giovanni here is a bit of an author in his way. + +_Boccaccio._ Frate! you confuse my modesty. + +_Frate._ Murder will out. It is a fact, on my conscience. Have you +never heard anything about it, Canonico! Ha! we poets are sly fellows: +we can keep a secret. + +_Boccaccio._ Are you quite sure you can? + +_Frate._ Try, and trust me with any. I am a confessional on legs: +there is no more a whisper in me than in a woolsack. + +I am in feather again, as you see; and in tune, as you shall hear. + +April is not the month for moping. Sing it lustily. + +_Boccaccio._ Let it be your business to sing it, being a Frate; I can +only recite it. + +_Frate._ Pray do, then. + +_Boccaccio._ + + Frate Biagio! sempre quando + Qua tu vieni cavalcando, + Pensi che le buone strade + Per il mondo sien ben rade; + E, di quante sono brutte, + La piu brutta e tua di tutte. + Badi, non cascare sulle + Graziosissime fanciulle, + Che con capo dritto, alzato, + Uova portano al mercato. + Pessima mi pare l'opra + Rovesciarle sottosopra. + Deh! scansando le erte e sassi, + Sempre con premura passi. + Caro amico! Frate Biagio! + Passi pur, ma passi adagio. + +_Frate._ Well now really, Canonico, for one not exactly one of us, +that canzone of Ser Giovanni has merit; has not it? I did not ride, +however, to-day; as you may see by the lining of my frock. But _plus +non vitiat_; ay, Canonico! About the roads he is right enough; they +are the devil's own roads; that must be said for them. + +Ser Giovanni! with permission; your mention of eggs in the canzone has +induced me to fancy I could eat a pair of them. The hens lay well now: +that white one of yours is worth more than the goose that laid the +golden: and you have a store of others, her equals or betters: we have +none like them at poor St. Vivaldo. _A riverderci, Ser Giovanni! +Schiavo! Ser Canonico! mi commandino._ + + * * * * * + +... Fra Biagio went back into the kitchen, helped himself to a quarter +of a loaf, ordered a flask of wine, and, trying several eggs against +his lips, selected seven, which he himself fried in oil, although the +maid offered her services. He never had been so little disposed to +enter into conversation with her; and on her asking him how he found +her master, he replied, that in bodily health Ser Giovanni, by his +prayers and ptisans, had much improved, but that his faculties were +wearing out apace. 'He may now run in the same couples with the +Canonico: they cannot catch the mange one of the other: the one could +say nothing to the purpose, and the other nothing at all. The whole +conversation was entirely at my charge,' added he. 'And now, Assunta, +since you press it, I will accept the service of your master's shoes. +How I shall ever get home I don't know.' He took the shoes off the +handles of the bellows, where Assunta had placed them out of her way, +and tucking one of his own under each arm, limped toward St. Vivaldo. + +The unwonted attention to smartness of apparel, in the only article +wherein it could be displayed, was suggested to Frate Biagio by +hearing that Ser Francesco, accustomed to courtly habits and elegant +society, and having not only small hands, but small feet, usually wore +red slippers in the morning. Fra Biagio had scarcely left the outer +door, than he cordially cursed Ser Francesco for making such a fool of +him, and wearing slippers of black list. 'These canonicoes,' said he, +'not only lie themselves, but teach everybody else to do the same. He +has lamed me for life: I burn as if I had been shod at the +blacksmith's forge.' + +The two friends said nothing about him, but continued the discourse +which his visit had interrupted. + +_Petrarca._ Turn again, I entreat you, to the serious; and do not +imagine that because by nature you are inclined to playfulness, you +must therefore write ludicrous things better. Many of your stories +would make the gravest men laugh, and yet there is little wit in them. + +_Boccaccio._ I think so myself; though authors, little disposed as +they are to doubt their possession of any quality they would bring +into play, are least of all suspicious on the side of wit. You have +convinced me. I am glad to have been tender, and to have written +tenderly: for I am certain it is this alone that has made you love me +with such affection. + +_Petrarca._ Not this alone, Giovanni! but this principally. I have +always found you kind and compassionate, liberal and sincere, and when +Fortune does not stand very close to such a man, she leaves only the +more room for Friendship. + +_Boccaccio._ Let her stand off then, now and for ever! To my heart, to +my heart, Francesco! preserver of my health, my peace of mind, and +(since you tell me I may claim it) my glory. + +_Petrarca._ Recovering your strength you must pursue your studies to +complete it. What can you have been doing with your books? I have +searched in vain this morning for the treasury. Where are they kept? +Formerly they were always open. I found only a short manuscript, which +I suspect is poetry, but I ventured not on looking into it, until I +had brought it with me and laid it before you. + +_Boccaccio._ Well guessed! They are verses written by a gentleman who +resided long in this country, and who much regretted the necessity of +leaving it. He took great delight in composing both Latin and Italian, +but never kept a copy of them latterly, so that these are the only +ones I could obtain from him. Read: for your voice will improve them: + + +TO MY CHILD CARLINO + + Carlino! what art thou about, my boy? + Often I ask that question, though in vain, + For we are far apart: ah! therefore 'tis + I often ask it; not in such a tone + As wiser fathers do, who know too well. + Were we not children, you and I together? + Stole we not glances from each other's eyes? + Swore we not secrecy in such misdeeds? + Well could we trust each other. Tell me then + What thou art doing. Carving out thy name, + Or haply mine, upon my favourite seat, + With the new knife I sent thee over sea? + Or hast thou broken it, and hid the hilt + Among the myrtles, starr'd with flowers, behind? + Or under that high throne whence fifty lilies + (With sworded tuberoses dense around) + Lift up their heads at once, not without fear + That they were looking at thee all the while. + + Does Cincirillo follow thee about? + Inverting one swart foot suspensively, + And wagging his dread jaw at every chirp + Of bird above him on the olive-branch? + Frighten him then away! 'twas he who slew + Our pigeons, our white pigeons peacock-tailed, + That fear'd not you and me ... alas, nor him! + I flattened his striped sides along my knee, + And reasoned with him on his bloody mind, + Till he looked blandly, and half-closed his eyes + To ponder on my lecture in the shade. + I doubt his memory much, his heart a little, + And in some minor matters (may I say it?) + Could wish him rather sager. But from thee + God hold back wisdom yet for many years! + Whether in early season or in late + It always comes high-priced. For thy pure breast + I have no lesson; it for me has many. + Come throw it open then! What sports, what cares + (Since there are none too young for these) engage + Thy busy thoughts? Are you again at work, + Walter and you, with those sly labourers, + Geppo, Giovanni, Cecco, and Poeta, + To build more solidly your broken dam + Among the poplars, whence the nightingale + Inquisitively watch'd you all day long? + I was not of your council in the scheme, + Or might have saved you silver without end, + And sighs too without number. Art thou gone + Below the mulberry, where that cold pool + Urged to devise a warmer, and more fit + For mighty swimmers, swimming three abreast? + Or art thou panting in this summer noon + Upon the lowest step before the hall, + Drawing a slice of water-melon, long + As Cupid's bow, athwart thy wetted lips + (Like one who plays Pan's pipe) and letting drop + The sable seeds from all their separate cells, + And leaving bays profound and rocks abrupt, + Redder than coral round Calypso's cave? + +_Petrarca._ There have been those anciently who would have been +pleased with such poetry, and perhaps there may be again. I am not +sorry to see the Muses by the side of childhood, and forming a part of +the family. But now tell me about the books. + +_Boccaccio._ Resolving to lay aside the more valuable of those I had +collected or transcribed, and to place them under the guardianship of +richer men, I locked them up together in the higher story of my tower +at Certaldo. You remember the old tower? + +_Petrarca._ Well do I remember the hearty laugh we had together (which +stopped us upon the staircase) at the calculation we made, how much +longer you and I, if we continued to thrive as we had thriven +latterly, should be able to pass within its narrow circle. Although I +like this little villa much better, I would gladly see the place +again, and enjoy with you, as we did before, the vast expanse of +woodlands and mountains and maremma; frowning fortresses inexpugnable; +and others more prodigious for their ruins; then below them, lordly +abbeys, overcanopied with stately trees and girded with rich +luxuriance; and towns that seem approaching them to do them honour, +and villages nestling close at their sides for sustenance and +protection. + +_Boccaccio._ My disorder, if it should keep its promise of leaving me +at last, will have been preparing me for the accomplishment of such a +project. Should I get thinner and thinner at this rate, I shall soon +be able to mount not only a turret or a belfry, but a tube of +macarone, while a Neapolitan is suspending it for deglutition. + +What I am about to mention will show you how little you can rely on +me! I have preserved the books, as you desired, but quite contrary to +my resolution: and, no less contrary to it, by your desire I shall now +preserve the _Decameron_. In vain had I determined not only to mend in +future, but to correct the past; in vain had I prayed most fervently +for grace to accomplish it, with a final aspiration to Fiametta that +she would unite with your beloved Laura, and that, gentle and +beatified spirits as they are, they would breathe together their purer +prayers on mine. See what follows. + +_Petrarca._ Sigh not at it. Before we can see all that follows from +their intercession, we must join them again. But let me hear anything +in which they are concerned. + +_Boccaccio._ I prayed; and my breast, after some few tears, grew +calmer. Yet sleep did not ensue until the break of morning, when the +dropping of soft rain on the leaves of the fig-tree at the window, and +the chirping of a little bird, to tell another there was shelter under +them, brought me repose and slumber. Scarcely had I closed my eyes, if +indeed time can be reckoned any more in sleep than in heaven, when my +Fiametta seemed to have led me into the meadow. You will see it below +you: turn away that branch: gently! gently! do not break it; for the +little bird sat there. + +_Petrarca._ I think, Giovanni, I can divine the place. Although this +fig-tree, growing out of the wall between the cellar and us, is +fantastic enough in its branches, yet that other which I see yonder, +bent down and forced to crawl along the grass by the prepotency of the +young shapely walnut-tree, is much more so. It forms a seat, about a +cubit above the ground, level and long enough for several. + +_Boccaccio._ Ha! you fancy it must be a favourite spot with me, +because of the two strong forked stakes wherewith it is propped and +supported! + +_Petrarca._ Poets know the haunts of poets at first sight; and he who +loved Laura.... O Laura! did I say he who _loved_ thee? ... hath +whisperings where those feet would wander which have been restless +after Fiametta. + +_Boccaccio._ It is true, my imagination has often conducted her +thither; but there in this chamber she appeared to me more visibly in +a dream. + +'Thy prayers have been heard, O Giovanni,' said she. + +I sprang to embrace her. + +'Do not spill the water! Ah! you have spilt a part of it.' + +I then observed in her hand a crystal vase. A few drops were sparkling +on the sides and running down the rim: a few were trickling from the +base and from the hand that held it. + +'I must go down to the brook,' said she, 'and fill it again as it was +filled before.' + +What a moment of agony was this to me! Could I be certain how long +might be her absence? She went: I was following: she made a sign for +me to turn back: I disobeyed her only an instant: yet my sense of +disobedience, increasing my feebleness and confusion, made me lose +sight of her. In the next moment she was again at my side, with the +cup quite full. I stood motionless: I feared my breath might shake the +water over. I looked her in the face for her commands ... and to see +it ... to see it so calm, so beneficent, so beautiful. I was +forgetting what I had prayed for, when she lowered her head, tasted of +the cup, and gave it me. I drank; and suddenly sprang forth before me +many groves and palaces and gardens, and their statues and their +avenues, and their labyrinths of alaternus and bay, and alcoves of +citron, and watchful loopholes in the retirements of impenetrable +pomegranate. Farther off, just below where the fountain slipped away +from its marble hall and guardian gods, arose, from their beds of moss +and drosera and darkest grass, the sisterhood of oleanders, fond of +tantalizing with their bosomed flowers and their moist and pouting +blossoms the little shy rivulet, and of covering its face with all the +colours of the dawn. My dream expanded and moved forward. I trod again +the dust of Posilipo, soft as the feathers in the wings of Sleep. I +emerged on Baia; I crossed her innumerable arches; I loitered in the +breezy sunshine of her mole; I trusted the faithful seclusion of her +caverns, the keepers of so many secrets; and I reposed on the buoyancy +of her tepid sea. Then Naples, and her theatres and her churches, and +grottoes and dells and forts and promontories, rushed forward in +confusion, now among soft whispers, now among sweetest sounds, and +subsided, and sank, and disappeared. Yet a memory seemed to come fresh +from every one: each had time enough for its tale, for its pleasure, +for its reflection, for its pang. As I mounted with silent steps the +narrow staircase of the old palace, how distinctly did I feel against +the palm of my hand the coldness of that smooth stone-work, and the +greater of the cramps of iron in it! + +'Ah me! is this forgetting?' cried I anxiously to Fiametta. + +'We must recall these scenes before us,' she replied: 'such is the +punishment of them. Let us hope and believe that the apparition, and +the compunction which must follow it, will be accepted as the full +penalty, and that both will pass away almost together.' + +I feared to lose anything attendant on her presence: I feared to +approach her forehead with my lips: I feared to touch the lily on its +long wavy leaf in her hair, which filled my whole heart with +fragrance. Venerating, adoring, I bowed my head at last to kiss her +snow-white robe, and trembled at my presumption. And yet the +effulgence of her countenance vivified while it chastened me. I loved +her ... I must not say _more_ than ever ... _better_ than ever; it was +Fiametta who had inhabited the skies. As my hand opened toward her: + +'Beware!' said she, faintly smiling; 'beware, Giovanni! Take only the +crystal; take it, and drink again.' + +'Must all be then forgotten?' said I sorrowfully. + +'Remember your prayer and mine, Giovanni. Shall both have been +granted ... oh, how much worse than in vain?' + +I drank instantly; I drank largely. How cool my bosom grew; how could +it grow so cool before her! But it was not to remain in its +quiescency; its trials were not yet over. I will not, Francesco! no, I +may not commemorate the incidents she related to me, nor which of us +said, 'I blush for having loved _first_;' nor which of us replied, +'Say _least_, say _least_, and blush again.' + +The charm of the words (for I felt not the encumbrance of the body nor +the acuteness of the spirit) seemed to possess me wholly. Although the +water gave me strength and comfort, and somewhat of celestial +pleasure, many tears fell around the border of the vase as she held it +up before me, exhorting me to take courage, and inviting me with more +than exhortation to accomplish my deliverance. She came nearer, more +tenderly, more earnestly; she held the dewy globe with both hands, +leaning forward, and sighed and shook her head, drooping at my +pusillanimity. It was only when a ringlet had touched the rim, and +perhaps the water (for a sunbeam on the surface could never have given +it such a golden hue), that I took courage, clasped it, and exhausted +it. Sweet as was the water, sweet as was the serenity it gave me ... +alas! that also which it moved away from me was sweet! + +'This time you can trust me alone,' said she, and parted my hair, and +kissed my brow. Again she went toward the brook: again my agitation, +my weakness, my doubt, came over me: nor could I see her while she +raised the water, nor knew I whence she drew it. When she returned, +she was close to me at once: she smiled: her smile pierced me to the +bones: it seemed an angel's. She sprinkled the pure water on me; she +looked most fondly; she took my hand; she suffered me to press hers to +my bosom; but, whether by design I cannot tell, she let fall a few +drops of the chilly element between. + +'And now, O my beloved!' said she, 'we have consigned to the bosom of +God our earthly joys and sorrows. The joys cannot return, let not the +sorrows. These alone would trouble my repose among the blessed.' + +'Trouble thy repose! Fiametta! Give me the chalice!' cried I ... 'not +a drop will I leave in it, not a drop.' + +'Take it!' said that soft voice. 'O now most dear Giovanni! I know +thou hast strength enough; and there is but little ... at the bottom +lies our first kiss.' + +'Mine! didst thou say, beloved one? and is that left thee still?' + +'_Mine_,' said she, pensively; and as she abased her head, the broad +leaf of the lily hid her brow and her eyes; the light of heaven shone +through the flower. + +'O Fiametta! Fiametta!' cried I in agony, 'God is the God of mercy, +God is the God of love ... can I, can I ever?' I struck the chalice +against my head, unmindful that I held it; the water covered my face +and my feet. I started up, not yet awake, and I heard the name of +Fiametta in the curtains. + +_Petrarca._ Love, O Giovanni, and life itself, are but dreams at best. +I do think + + Never so gloriously was Sleep attended + As with the pageant of that heavenly maid. + +But to dwell on such subjects is sinful. The recollection of them, +with all their vanities, brings tears into my eyes. + +_Boccaccio._ And into mine too ... they were so very charming. + +_Petrarca._ Alas, alas! the time always comes when we must regret the +enjoyments of our youth. + +_Boccaccio._ If we have let them pass us. + +_Petrarca._ I mean our indulgence in them. + +_Boccaccio._ Francesco! I think you must remember Raffaellino degli +Alfani. + +_Petrarca._ Was it Raffaellino who lived near San Michele in Orto? + +_Boccaccio._ The same. He was an innocent soul, and fond of fish. But +whenever his friend Sabbatelli sent him a trout from Pratolino, he +always kept it until next day or the day after, just long enough to +render it unpalatable. He then turned it over in the platter, smelt at +it closer, although the news of its condition came undeniably from a +distance, touched it with his forefinger, solicited a testimony from +the gills which the eyes had contradicted, sighed over it, and sent it +for a present to somebody else. Were I a lover of trout as Raffaellino +was, I think I should have taken an opportunity of enjoying it while +the pink and crimson were glittering on it. + +_Petrarca._ Trout, yes. + +_Boccaccio._ And all other fish I could encompass. + +_Petrarca._ O thou grave mocker! I did not suspect such slyness in +thee: proof enough I had almost forgotten thee. + +_Boccaccio._ Listen! listen! I fancied I caught a footstep in the +passage. Come nearer; bend your head lower, that I may whisper a word +in your ear. Never let Assunta hear you sigh. She is mischievous: she +may have been standing at the door: not that I believe she would be +guilty of any such impropriety: but who knows what girls are capable +of! She has no malice, only in laughing; and a sigh sets her windmill +at work, van over van, incessantly. + +_Petrarca._ I should soon check her. I have no notion.... + +_Boccaccio._ After all, she is a good girl ... a trifle of the wilful. +She must have it that many things are hurtful to me ... reading in +particular ... it makes people so odd. Tina is a small matter of the +madcap ... in her own particular way ... but exceedingly discreet, I +do assure you, if they will only leave her alone. + +I find I was mistaken, there was nobody. + +_Petrarca._ A cat, perhaps. + +_Boccaccio._ No such thing. I order him over to Certaldo while the +birds are laying and sitting: and he knows by experience, favourite as +he is, that it is of no use to come back before he is sent for. Since +the first impetuosities of youth, he has rarely been refractory or +disobliging. We have lived together now these five years, unless I +miscalculate; and he seems to have learnt something of my manners, +wherein violence and enterprise by no means predominate. I have +watched him looking at a large green lizard; and, their eyes being +opposite and near, he has doubted whether it might be pleasing to me +if he began the attack; and their tails on a sudden have touched one +another at the decision. + +_Petrarca._ Seldom have adverse parties felt the same desire of peace +at the same moment, and none ever carried it more simultaneously and +promptly into execution. + +_Boccaccio._ He enjoys his _otium cum dignitate_ at Certaldo: there he +is my castellan, and his chase is unlimited in those domains. After +the doom of relegation is expired, he comes hither at midsummer. And +then if you could see his joy! His eyes are as deep as a well, and as +clear as a fountain: he jerks his tail into the air like a royal +sceptre, and waves it like the wand of a magician. You would fancy +that, as Horace with his head, he was about to smite the stars with +it. There is ne'er such another cat in the parish; and he knows it, a +rogue! We have rare repasts together in the bean-and-bacon time, +although in regard to the bean he sides with the philosopher of Samos; +but after due examination. In cleanliness he is a very nun; albeit in +that quality which lies between cleanliness and godliness, there is a +smack of Fra Biagio about him. What is that book in your hand? + +_Petrarca._ My breviary. + +_Boccaccio._ Well, give me mine too ... there, on the little table in +the corner, under the glass of primroses. We can do nothing better. + +_Petrarca._ What prayer were you looking for? let me find it. + +_Boccaccio._ I don't know how it is: I am scarcely at present in a +frame of mind for it. We are of one faith: the prayers of the one will +do for the other: and I am sure, if you omitted my name, you would say +them all over afresh. I wish you could recollect in any book as dreamy +a thing to entertain me as I have been just repeating. We have had +enough of Dante: I believe few of his beauties have escaped us: and +small faults, which we readily pass by, are fitter for small folks, as +grubs are the proper bait for gudgeons. + +_Petrarca._ I have had as many dreams as most men. We are all made up +of them, as the webs of the spider are particles of her own vitality. +But how infinitely less do we profit by them! I will relate to you, +before we separate, one among the multitude of mine, as coming the +nearest to the poetry of yours, and as having been not totally useless +to me. Often have I reflected on it; sometimes with pensiveness, with +sadness never. + +_Boccaccio._ Then, Francesco, if you had with you as copious a choice +of dreams as clustered on the elm-trees where the Sibyl led Aeneas, +this, in preference to the whole swarm of them, is the queen dream for +me. + +_Petrarca._ When I was younger I was fond of wandering in solitary +places, and never was afraid of slumbering in woods and grottoes. +Among the chief pleasures of my life, and among the commonest of my +occupations, was the bringing before me such heroes and heroines of +antiquity, such poets and sages, such of the prosperous and the +unfortunate, as most interested me by their courage, their wisdom, +their eloquence, or their adventures. Engaging them in the +conversation best suited to their characters, I knew perfectly their +manners, their steps, their voices: and often did I moisten with my +tears the models I had been forming of the less happy. + +_Boccaccio._ Great is the privilege of entering into the studies of +the intellectual; great is that of conversing with the guides of +nations, the movers of the mass, the regulators of the unruly will, +stiff, in its impurity and rust, against the finger of the Almighty +Power that formed it: but give me, Francesco, give me rather the +creature to sympathize with; apportion me the sufferings to assuage. +Ah, gentle soul! thou wilt never send them over to another; they have +better hopes from thee. + +_Petrarca._ We both alike feel the sorrows of those around us. He who +suppresses or allays them in another, breaks many thorns off his own; +and future years will never harden fresh ones. + +My occupation was not always in making the politician talk politics, +the orator toss his torch among the populace, the philosopher run down +from philosophy to cover the retreat or the advances of his sect; but +sometimes in devising how such characters must act and discourse, on +subjects far remote from the beaten track of their career. In like +manner the philologist, and again the dialectician, were not indulged +in the review and parade of their trained bands, but, at times, +brought forward to show in what manner and in what degree external +habits had influenced the conformation of the internal man. It was far +from unprofitable to set passing events before past actors, and to +record the decisions of those whose interests and passions are +unconcerned in them. + +_Boccaccio._ This is surely no easy matter. The thoughts are in fact +your own, however you distribute them. + +_Petrarca._ All cannot be my own; if you mean by _thoughts_ the +opinions and principles I should be the most desirous to inculcate. +Some favourite ones perhaps may obtrude too prominently, but otherwise +no misbehaviour is permitted them: reprehension and rebuke are always +ready, and the offence is punished on the spot. + +_Boccaccio._ Certainly you thus throw open, to its full extent, the +range of poetry and invention; which cannot but be very limited and +sterile, unless where we find displayed much diversity of character as +disseminated by nature, much peculiarity of sentiment as arising from +position, marked with unerring skill through every shade and +gradation; and finally and chiefly, much intertexture and intensity of +passion. You thus convey to us more largely and expeditiously the +stores of your understanding and imagination, than you ever could by +sonnets or canzonets, or sinewless and sapless allegories. + +But weightier works are less captivating. If you had published any +such as you mention, you must have waited for their acceptance. Not +only the fame of Marcellus, but every other, + + Crescit occulto velut arbor aevo; + +and that which makes the greatest vernal shoot is apt to make the +least autumnal. Authors in general who have met celebrity at starting, +have already had their reward; always their utmost due, and often much +beyond it. We cannot hope for both celebrity and fame: supremely +fortunate are the few who are allowed the liberty of choice between +them. We two prefer the strength that springs from exercise and toil, +acquiring it gradually and slowly: we leave to others the earlier +blessing of that sleep which follows enjoyment. How many at first +sight are enthusiastic in their favour! Of these how large a portion +come away empty-handed and discontented! like idlers who visit the +seacoast, fill their pockets with pebbles bright from the passing +wave, and carry them off with rapture. After a short examination at +home, every streak seems faint and dull, and the whole contexture +coarse, uneven, and gritty: first one is thrown away, then another; +and before the week's end the store is gone, of things so shining and +wonderful. + +_Petrarca._ Allegory, which you named with sonnets and canzonets, had +few attractions for me, believing it to be the delight in general of +idle, frivolous, inexcursive minds, in whose mansions there is neither +hall nor portal to receive the loftier of the Passions. A stranger to +the Affections, she holds a low station among the handmaidens of +Poetry, being fit for little but an apparition in a mask. I had +reflected for some time on this subject, when, wearied with the length +of my walk over the mountains, and finding a soft old molehill, +covered with grey grass, by the wayside, I laid my head upon it and +slept. I cannot tell how long it was before a species of dream or +vision came over me. + +Two beautiful youths appeared beside me; each was winged; but the +wings were hanging down, and seemed ill adapted to flight. One of +them, whose voice was the softest I ever heard, looking at me +frequently, said to the other: + +'He is under my guardianship for the present: do not awaken him with +that feather.' + +Methought, hearing the whisper, I saw something like the feather on an +arrow; and then the arrow itself; the whole of it, even to the point; +although he carried it in such a manner that it was difficult at first +to discover more than a palm's length of it: the rest of the shaft, +and the whole of the barb, was behind his ankles. + +'This feather never awakens any one,' replied he, rather petulantly; +'but it brings more of confident security, and more of cherished +dreams, than you without me are capable of imparting.' + +'Be it so!' answered the gentler ... 'none is less inclined to quarrel +or dispute than I am. Many whom you have wounded grievously, call upon +me for succour. But so little am I disposed to thwart you, it is +seldom I venture to do more for them than to whisper a few words of +comfort in passing. How many reproaches on these occasions have been +cast upon me for indifference and infidelity! Nearly as many, and +nearly in the same terms, as upon you!' + +'Odd enough that we, O Sleep! should be thought so alike,' said Love, +contemptuously. 'Yonder is he who bears a nearer resemblance to you: +the dullest have observed it.' I fancied I turned my eyes to where he +was pointing, and saw at a distance the figure he designated. +Meanwhile the contention went on uninterruptedly. Sleep was slow in +asserting his power or his benefits. Love recapitulated them; but only +that he might assert his own above them. Suddenly he called on me to +decide, and to choose my patron. Under the influence, first of the +one, then of the other, I sprang from repose to rapture, I alighted +from rapture on repose ... and knew not which was sweetest. Love was +very angry with me, and declared he would cross me throughout the +whole of my existence. Whatever I might on other occasions have +thought of his veracity, I now felt too surely the conviction that he +would keep his word. At last, before the close of the altercation, the +third Genius had advanced, and stood near us. I cannot tell how I knew +him, but I knew him to be the Genius of Death. Breathless as I was at +beholding him, I soon became familiar with his features. First they +seemed only calm; presently they grew contemplative; and lastly +beautiful: those of the Graces themselves are less regular, less +harmonious, less composed. Love glanced at him unsteadily, with a +countenance in which there was somewhat of anxiety, somewhat of +disdain; and cried: 'Go away! go away! nothing that thou touchest, +lives.' + +'Say rather, child!' replied the advancing form, and advancing grew +loftier and statelier, 'say rather that nothing of beautiful or of +glorious lives its own true life until my wing hath passed over it.' + +Love pouted, and rumpled and bent down with his forefinger the stiff +short feathers on his arrow-head; but replied not. Although he frowned +worse than ever, and at me, I dreaded him less and less, and scarcely +looked toward him. The milder and calmer Genius, the third, in +proportion as I took courage to contemplate him, regarded me with more +and more complacency. He held neither flower nor arrow, as the others +did; but, throwing back the clusters of dark curls that overshadowed +his countenance, he presented to me his hand, openly and benignly. I +shrank on looking at him so near, and yet I sighed to love him. He +smiled, not without an expression of pity, at perceiving my +diffidence, my timidity: for I remembered how soft was the hand of +Sleep, how warm and entrancing was Love's. By degrees, I became +ashamed of my ingratitude; and turning my face away, I held out my +arms, and felt my neck within his. Composure strewed and allayed all +the throbbings of my bosom; the coolness of freshest morning breathed +around: the heavens seemed to open above me; while the beautiful cheek +of my deliverer rested on my head. I would now have looked for those +others; but knowing my intention by my gesture, he said, +consolatorily: + +'Sleep is on his way to the Earth, where many are calling him; but it +is not to these he hastens; for every call only makes him fly farther +off. Sedately and gravely as he looks, he is nearly as capricious and +volatile as the more arrogant and ferocious one.' + +'And Love!' said I, 'whither is he departed? If not too late, I would +propitiate and appease him.' + +'He who cannot follow me, he who cannot overtake and pass me,' said +the Genius, 'is unworthy of the name, the most glorious in earth or +heaven. Look up! Love is yonder, and ready to receive thee.' + +I looked: the earth was under me: I saw only the clear blue sky, and +something brighter above it. + + + + +POEMS + + +I + + She I love (alas in vain!) + Floats before my slumbering eyes: + When she comes she lulls my pain, + When she goes what pangs arise! + Thou whom love, whom memory flies, + Gentle Sleep! prolong thy reign! + If even thus she soothe my sighs, + Never let me wake again! + + +II + + Pleasure! why thus desert the heart + In its spring-tide? + I could have seen her, I could part, + And but have sigh'd! + + O'er every youthful charm to stray, + To gaze, to touch.... + Pleasure! why take so much away, + Or give so much? + + +III + + Past ruin'd Ilion Helen lives, + Alcestis rises from the shades; + Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse that gives + Immortal youth to mortal maids. + + Soon shall Oblivion's deepening veil + Hide all the peopled hills you see, + The gay, the proud, while lovers hail + These many summers you and me. + + +IV + + Ianthe! you are call'd to cross the sea! + A path forbidden _me_! + Remember, while the Sun his blessing sheds + Upon the mountain-heads, + How often we have watcht him laying down + His brow, and dropt our own + Against each other's, and how faint and short + And sliding the support! + What will succeed it now? Mine is unblest, + Ianthe! nor will rest + But on the very thought that swells with pain. + O bid me hope again! + O give me back what Earth, what (without you) + Not Heaven itself can do, + One of the golden days that we have past; + And let it be my last! + Or else the gift would be, however sweet, + Fragile and incomplete. + + +V + + The gates of fame and of the grave + Stand under the same architrave. + + +VI + + Twenty years hence my eyes may grow + If not quite dim, yet rather so, + Still yours from others they shall know + Twenty years hence. + Twenty years hence tho' it may hap + That I be call'd to take a nap + In a cool cell where thunder-clap + Was never heard, + There breathe but o'er my arch of grass + A not too sadly sigh'd _Alas_, + And I shall catch, ere you can pass, + That winged word. + + +VII + + Here, ever since you went abroad, + If there be change, no change I see, + I only walk our wonted road, + The road is only walkt by me. + + Yes; I forgot; a change there is; + Was it of _that_ you bade me tell? + I catch at times, at times I miss + The sight, the tone, I know so well. + + Only two months since you stood here! + Two shortest months! then tell me why + Voices are harsher than they were, + And tears are longer ere they dry. + + +VIII + + Tell me not things past all belief; + One truth in you I prove; + The flame of anger, bright and brief, + Sharpens the barb of Love. + + +IX + + Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak + Four not exempt from pride some future day. + Resting on one white hand a warm wet cheek + Over my open volume you will say, + 'This man loved _me_!' then rise and trip away. + + +X + +FIESOLE IDYL + + Here, where precipitate Spring, with one light bound + Into hot Summer's lusty arms, expires, + And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night, + Soft airs that want the lute to play with 'em, + And softer sighs that know not what they want, + Aside a wall, beneath an orange-tree, + Whose tallest flowers could tell the lowlier ones + Of sights in Fiesole right up above, + While I was gazing a few paces off + At what they seem'd to show me with their nods, + Their frequent whispers and their pointing shoots, + A gentle maid came down the garden-steps + And gathered the pure treasure in her lap. + I heard the branches rustle, and stept forth + To drive the ox away, or mule, or goat, + Such I believed it must be. How could I + Let beast o'erpower them? When hath wind or rain + Borne hard upon weak plant that wanted me, + And I (however they might bluster round) + Walkt off? 'Twere most ungrateful: for sweet scents + Are the swift vehicles of still sweeter thoughts, + And nurse and pillow the dull memory + That would let drop without them her best stores. + They bring me tales of youth and tones of love, + And 'tis and ever was my wish and way + To let all flowers live freely, and all die + (Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart) + Among their kindred in their native place. + I never pluck the rose; the violet's head + Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank + And not reproacht me; the ever-sacred cup + Of the pure lily hath between my hands + Felt safe, unsoil'd, nor lost one grain of gold. + I saw the light that made the glossy leaves + More glossy; the fair arm, the fairer cheek + Warmed by the eye intent on its pursuit; + I saw the foot that, although half-erect + From its grey slipper, could not lift her up + To what she wanted: I held down a branch + And gather'd her some blossoms; since their hour + Was come, and bees had wounded them, and flies + Of harder wing were working their way thro' + And scattering them in fragments under-foot. + So crisp were some, they rattled unevolved, + Others, ere broken off, fell into shells, + For such appear the petals when detacht, + Unbending, brittle, lucid, white like snow, + And like snow not seen thro', by eye or sun: + Yet every one her gown received from me + Was fairer than the first. I thought not so, + But so she praised them to reward my care. + I said, 'You find the largest.' + 'This indeed,' + Cried she, 'is large and sweet.' She held one forth, + Whether for me to look at or to stake + She knew not, nor did I; but taking it + Would best have solved (and this she felt) her doubt. + I dared not touch it; for it seemed a part + Of her own self; fresh, full, the most mature + Of blossoms, yet a blossom; with a touch + To fall, and yet unfallen. She drew back + The boon she tender'd, and then, finding not + The ribbon at her waist to fix it in, + Dropt it, as loath to drop it, on the rest. + + +XI + + Ah what avails the sceptred race, + Ah what the form divine! + What every virtue, every grace! + Rose Aylmer, all were thine. + Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes + May weep, but never see, + A night of memories and of sighs + I consecrate to thee. + + +XII + + With rosy hand a little girl prest down + A boss of fresh-cull'd cowslips in a rill: + Often as they sprang up again, a frown + Show'd she disliked resistance to her will: + But when they droopt their heads and shone much less, + She shook them to and fro, and threw them by, + And tript away. 'Ye loathe the heaviness + Ye love to cause, my little girls!' thought I, + 'And what had shone for you, by you must die.' + + +XIII + + Ternissa! you are fled! + I say not to the dead, + But to the happy ones who rest below: + For, surely, surely, where + Your voice and graces are, + Nothing of death can any feel or know. + Girls who delight to dwell + Where grows most asphodel, + Gather to their calm breasts each word you speak: + The mild Persephone + Places you on her knee, + And your cool palm smooths down stern Pluto's cheek. + + +XIV + + Various the roads of life; in one + All terminate, one lonely way + We go; and 'Is he gone?' + Is all our best friends say. + + +XV + + Yes; I write verses now and then, + But blunt and flaccid is my pen, + No longer talkt of by young men + As rather clever: + + In the last quarter are my eyes, + You see it by their form and size; + Is it not time then to be wise? + Or now or never. + + Fairest that ever sprang from Eve! + While Time allows the short reprieve, + Just look at me! would you believe + 'Twas once a lover? + + I cannot clear the five-bar gate, + But, trying first its timber's state, + Climb stiffly up, take breath, and wait + To trundle over. + + Thro' gallopade I cannot swing + The entangling blooms of Beauty's spring: + I cannot say the tender thing, + Be 't true or false, + + And am beginning to opine + Those girls are only half-divine + Whose waists yon wicked boys entwine + In giddy waltz. + + I fear that arm above that shoulder, + I wish them wiser, graver, older, + Sedater, and no harm if colder + And panting less. + + Ah! people were not half so wild + In former days, when, starchly mild, + Upon her high-heel'd Essex smiled + The brave Queen Bess. + + +XVI + +ON SEEING A HAIR OF LUCRETIA BORGIA + + Borgia, thou once wert almost too august + And high for adoration; now thou'rt dust. + All that remains of thee these plaits unfold, + Calm hair, meandering in pellucid gold. + + +XVII + + Once, and once only, have I seen thy face, + Elia! once only has thy tripping tongue + Run o'er my breast, yet never has been left + Impression on it stronger or more sweet. + Cordial old man! what youth was in thy years, + What wisdom in thy levity, what truth + In every utterance of that purest soul! + Few are the spirits of the glorified + I'd spring to earlier at the gate of Heaven. + + +XVIII + +TO WORDSWORTH + + Those who have laid the harp aside + And turn'd to idler things, + From very restlessness have tried + The loose and dusty strings. + And, catching back some favourite strain, + Run with it o'er the chords again. + + But Memory is not a Muse, + O Wordsworth! though 'tis said + They all descend from her, and use + To haunt her fountain-head: + That other men should work for me + In the rich mines of Poesie, + Pleases me better than the toil + Of smoothing under hardened hand, + With Attic emery and oil, + The shining point for Wisdom's wand, + Like those thou temperest 'mid the rills + Descending from thy native hills. + + Without his governance, in vain + Manhood is strong, and Youth is bold + If oftentimes the o'er-piled strain + Clogs in the furnace, and grows cold + Beneath his pinions deep and frore, + And swells and melts and flows no more, + That is because the heat beneath + Pants in its cavern poorly fed. + Life springs not from the couch of Death, + Nor Muse nor Grace can raise the dead; + Unturn'd then let the mass remain, + Intractable to sun or rain. + + A marsh, where only flat leaves lie, + And showing but the broken sky, + Too surely is the sweetest lay + That wins the ear and wastes the day, + Where youthful Fancy pouts alone + And lets not Wisdom touch her zone. + + He who would build his fame up high, + The rule and plummet must apply, + Nor say, 'I'll do what I have plann'd,' + Before he try if loam or sand + Be still remaining in the place + Delved for each polisht pillar's base. + With skilful eye and fit device + Thou raisest every edifice, + Whether in sheltered vale it stand + Or overlook the Dardan strand, + Amid the cypresses that mourn + Laodameia's love forlorn. + + We both have run o'er half the space + Listed for mortal's earthly race; + We both have crost life's fervid line, + And other stars before us shine: + May they be bright and prosperous + As those that have been stars for us! + Our course by Milton's light was sped, + And Shakespeare shining overhead: + Chatting on deck was Dryden too, + The Bacon of the rhyming crew; + None ever crost our mystic sea + More richly stored with thought than he; + Tho' never tender nor sublime, + He wrestles with and conquers Time. + To learn my lore on Chaucer's knee, + I left much prouder company; + Thee gentle Spenser fondly led, + But me he mostly sent to bed. + + I wish them every joy above + That highly blessed spirits prove, + Save one: and that too shall be theirs, + But after many rolling years, + When 'mid their light thy light appears. + + +XIX + +TO CHARLES DICKENS + + Go then to Italy; but mind + To leave the pale low France behind; + Pass through that country, nor ascend + The Rhine, nor over Tyrol wend: + Thus all at once shall rise more grand + The glories of the ancient land. + Dickens! how often, when the air + Breath'd genially, I've thought me there, + And rais'd to heaven my thankful eyes + To see three spans of deep blue skies. + In Genoa now I hear a stir, + A shout ... _Here comes the Minister!_ + Yes, thou art he, although not sent + By cabinet or parliament: + Yes, thou art he. Since Milton's youth + Bloom'd in the Eden of the South, + Spirit so pure and lofty none + Hath heavenly Genius from his throne + Deputed on the banks of Thames + To speak his voice and urge his claims. + Let every nation know from thee + How less than lovely Italy + Is the whole world beside; let all + Into their grateful breasts recall + How Prospero and Miranda dwelt + In Italy: the griefs that melt + The stoniest heart, each sacred tear + One lacrymatory gathered here; + All Desdemona's, all that fell + In playful Juliet's bridal cell. + Ah! could my steps in life's decline + Accompany or follow thine! + But my own vines are not for me + To prune, or from afar to see. + I miss the tales I used to tell + With cordial Hare and joyous Gell, + And that good old Archbishop whose + Cool library, at evening's close + (Soon as from Ischia swept the gale + And heav'd and left the dark'ning sail), + Its lofty portal open'd wide + To me, and very few beside: + Yet large his kindness. Still the poor + Flock round Taranto's palace door, + And find no other to replace + The noblest of a noble race. + Amid our converse you would see + Each with white cat upon his knee, + And flattering that grand company: + For Persian kings might proudly own + Such glorious cats to share the throne. + Write me few letters: I'm content + With what for all the world is meant; + Write then for all: but, since my breast + Is far more faithful than the rest, + Never shall any other share + With little Nelly nestling there. + + +XX + +TO BARRY CORNWALL + + Barry! your spirit long ago + Has haunted me; at last I know + The heart it sprung from: one more sound + Ne'er rested on poetic ground. + But, Barry Cornwall! by what right + Wring you my breast and dim my sight, + And make me wish at every touch + My poor old hand could do as much? + No other in these later times + Has bound me in so potent rhymes. + I have observed the curious dress + And jewelry of brave Queen Bess, + But always found some o'ercharged thing, + Some flaw in even the brightest ring, + Admiring in her men of war, + A rich but too argute guitar. + Our foremost now are more prolix, + And scrape with three-fell fiddlesticks, + And, whether bound for griefs or smiles, + Are slow to turn as crocodiles. + Once, every court and country bevy + Chose the gallant of loins less heavy, + And would have laid upon the shelf + Him who could talk but of himself. + Reason is stout, but even Reason + May walk too long in Rhyme's hot season. + I have heard many folks aver + They have caught horrid colds with her. + Imagination's paper kite, + Unless the string is held in tight, + Whatever fits and starts it takes, + Soon bounces on the ground, and breaks. + You, placed afar from each extreme, + Nor dully drowse nor wildly dream, + But, ever flowing with good-humour, + Are bright as spring and warm as summer. + Mid your Penates not a word + Of scorn or ill-report is heard; + Nor is there any need to pull + A sheaf or truss from cart too full, + Lest it o'erload the horse, no doubt, + Or clog the road by falling out. + We, who surround a common table, + And imitate the fashionable, + Wear each two eyeglasses: _this_ lens + Shows us our faults, _that_ other men's. + We do not care how dim may be + _This_ by whose aid our own we see, + But, ever anxiously alert + That all may have their whole desert, + We would melt down the stars and sun + In our heart's furnace, to make one + Thro' which the enlighten'd world might spy + A mote upon a brother's eye. + + +XXI + +TO ROBERT BROWNING + + There is delight in singing, tho' none hear + Beside the singer: and there is delight + In praising, tho' the praiser sit alone + And see the prais'd far off him, far above. + Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world's, + Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee, + Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale, + No man hath walkt along our roads with step + So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue + So varied in discourse. But warmer climes + Give brighter plumage, stronger wing: the breeze + Of Alpine highths thou playest with, borne on + Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where + The Siren waits thee, singing song for song. + + +XXII + +AGE + + Death, tho' I see him not, is near + And grudges me my eightieth year. + Now, I would give him all these last + For one that fifty have run past. + Ah! he strikes all things, all alike, + But bargains: those he will not strike. + + +XXIII + + Leaf after leaf drops off, flower after flower, + Some in the chill, some in the warmer hour: + Alike they flourish and alike they fall, + And Earth who nourisht them receives them all. + Should we, her wiser sons, be less content + To sink into her lap when life is spent? + + +XXIV + + Well I remember how you smiled + To see me write your name upon + The soft sea-sand--'_O! what a child!_ + _You think you're writing upon stone!_' + I have since written what no tide + Shall ever wash away, what men + Unborn shall read o'er ocean wide + And find Ianthe's name again. + + +XXV + + I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. + Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art; + I warmed both hands before the fire of Life; + It sinks, and I am ready to depart. + + +XXVI + + Death stands above me, whispering low + I know not what into my ear: + Of his strange language all I know + Is, there is not a word of fear. + + +XXVII + +A PASTORAL + + Damon was sitting in the grove + With Phyllis, and protesting love; + And she was listening; but no word + Of all he loudly swore she heard. + How! was she deaf then? no, not she, + Phyllis was quite the contrary. + Tapping his elbow, she said, 'Hush! + O what a darling of a thrush! + I think he never sang so well + As now, below us, in the dell.' + + +XXVIII + +THE LOVER + + Now thou art gone, tho' not gone far, + It seems that there are worlds between us; + Shine here again, thou wandering star! + Earth's planet! and return with Venus. + + At times thou broughtest me thy light + When restless sleep had gone away; + At other times more blessed night + Stole over, and prolonged thy stay. + + +XXIX + +THE POET WHO SLEEPS + + One day, when I was young, I read + About a poet, long since dead, + Who fell asleep, as poets do + In writing--and make others too. + But herein lies the story's gist, + How a gay queen came up and kist + The sleeper. + 'Capital!' thought I. + 'A like good fortune let me try.' + Many the things we poets feign. + I feign'd to sleep, but tried in vain. + I tost and turn'd from side to side, + With open mouth and nostrils wide. + At last there came a pretty maid, + And gazed; then to myself I said, + 'Now for it!' She, instead of kiss, + Cried, 'What a lazy lout is this!' + + +XXX + +DANIEL DEFOE + + Few will acknowledge what they owe + To persecuted, brave Defoe. + Achilles, in Homeric song, + May, or he may not, live so long + As Crusoe; few their strength had tried + Without so staunch and safe a guide. + What boy is there who never laid + Under his pillow, half afraid, + That precious volume, lest the morrow + For unlearnt lessons might bring sorrow? + But nobler lessons he has taught + Wide-awake scholars who fear'd naught: + A Rodney and a Nelson may + Without him not have won the day. + + +XXXI + +IDLE WORDS + + They say that every idle word + Is numbered by the Omniscient Lord. + O Parliament! 'tis well that He + Endureth for Eternity, + And that a thousand Angels wait + To write them at thy inner gate. + + +XXXII + +TO THE RIVER AVON + + Avon! why runnest thou away so fast? + Rest thee before that Chancel where repose + The bones of him whose spirit moves the world. + I have beheld thy birthplace, I have seen + Thy tiny ripples where they play amid + The golden cups and ever-waving blades. + I have seen mighty rivers, I have seen + Padus, recovered from his fiery wound, + And Tiber, prouder than them all to bear + Upon his tawny bosom men who crusht + The world they trod on, heeding not the cries + Of culprit kings and nations many-tongued. + What are to me these rivers, once adorn'd + With crowns they would not wear but swept away? + Worthier art thou of worship, and I bend + My knees upon thy bank, and call thy name, + And hear, or think I hear, thy voice reply. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Minor errors (missing or transposed letters, omitted punctuation, etc.) +have been corrected without note. The author used a lot of archaic +spelling, which remains unchanged. + +The single Greek word in this work has been transliterated, and is +surrounded by plus signs +like this+. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Imaginary Conversations and Poems, by +Walter Savage Landor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS AND POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 21628.txt or 21628.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/6/2/21628/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sam W. and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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