Class _BJ5 IX- Book . T < PRESENTED BY ESSAYS BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH, M. B. MDCCCXIX. <5*-^ 7 V s Printed by T. Davison, Whitef riar*. GOLDSMITHS ESSAYS. Sir J. Reynolds pinx* JLQOTXDJKr, ffUBLISHJE© BY JOIW SMAM.TE., FKCC J ~ IBI9. -■"#* ^>; PREFACE. The following Essays have already appeared at different times, and in different publications. The pamphlets in which they were inserted being gene- rally unsuccessful, these shared the common fate, without assisting the booksellers aims or extending the writer's reputation. The public were too stre- nuously employed w T ith their own follies to be assiduous in estimating mine ; so that many of my best attempts in this way have fallen victims to the transient topic of the times; the Ghost in Cock-lane, or the siege of Ticonderago. But though they have passed pretty silently into the world, I can by no means complain of their cir- culation. The magazines and papers of the day have indeed been liberal enough in this respect. Most of these essays have been regularly reprinted twice or thrice a year, and conveyed to the public through the kennel of some engaging publication. If there be a pride in multiplied editions, I have seen some of my labours sixteen times reprinted, and claimed by different parents as their own. I have seen them flourished at the beginning wdth praise, and signed at the end with the names of Philantos, Philalethes, Philaleutheros, and Philan- thropes. These gentlemen have kindly stood spon- 4 PREFACE. sors to my productions, and to flatter me more have always passed them as their own. It is time however at last to vindicate my claims, and as these entertainers of the public, as they call themselves, have partly lived upon me for some years, let me now try if I cannot live a little upon myself. I would desire in this case to imitate that fat man, whom I have somewhere heard of in a shipwreck, who, when the sailors, pressed by fa- mine, were taking slices from his posteriors to satisfy their hunger, insisted with great justice on having the first cut for himself. Yet after all, I cannot be angry with any who have taken it into their heads to think that what- ever I write is worth reprinting, particularly when I consider how great a majority will think it scarcely worth reading. Trifling and superficial are terms of reproach that are easily objected, and that carry an air of penetration in the observer. These faults have been objected to the following Essays; and it must be owned in some measure that the charge is true. However, I could have made them more me- taphysical had I thought fit, but I would ask whe- ther in a short essay it is not necessary to be super - ficial ? Before we have prepared to enter into the depths of a subject in the usual forms, we have arrived at the bottom of our scanty page, and thus lose the honours of a victory by too tedious a pre- paration for the combat. There is another fault in this collection of trifles, which I fear will not be so easily pardoned. It will be alleged, that the humour of them (if any be found) is stale and hackneyed. This may be true enough as matters now stand, but I may with great PREFACE. 5 truth assert, that the humour was new when I wrote it. Since that time indeed many of the topics, which were first started here, have been hunted down,' and many of the thoughts blown upon. In fact, these Essays were considered as quietly laid in the grave of oblivion ; and our modern compilers, like sextons and executioners, think it their un- doubted right to pillage the dead. However, whatever right I have to complain of the public, they can as yet have no just reason to complain of me. If I have written dull essays, they have hitherto treated them as dull essays. Thus" far we are at least upon par, and until they think "fit to make me their humble debtor by praise, I am resolved not to lose a single inch of my self- importance. Instead, therefore, of attempting to establish a credit amongst them, it will perhaps be wiser to apply to some more distant correspondent, and as my drafts are in some danger of being pro- tested at home, it may not be imprudent upon this occasion to draw my bills upon posterity. Mr. Pos- terity, sir, nine hundred and ninety-nine years after sight hereof, pay the bearer, or order, a thousand pounds' worth of praise, free from all deductions whatsoever, it being a commodity that will then be very serviceable to him ; and place it to the account of, &c. ESSAYS. L DESCRIPTION OF VARIOUS CLUBS. I remember to have read in some philosopher (I believe in Tom Brown's works) that, let a man's character, sentiments, or complexion, be what they will, he can find company in London to match them. If he be splenetic, he may every day meet companions on the seats in St. James's Park, with whose groans he may mix his own, and pathetically talk of the weather. If he be passionate, he may vent his rage among the old orators at Slaughter's coffee-house, and damn the nation because it keeps him from starving. If he be phlegmatic, he may sit in silence at the Hum-drum club in Ivy-lane ; and if actually mad, he may find very good com- pany in Moor-fields, either at Bedlam, or the Foun- dery, ready to cultivate a nearer acquaintance. But, although such as have a knowledge of the town may easily class themselves with tempers con- genial to their own, a countryman who comes to live in London finds nothing more difficult. With regard to myself, none ever tried with more assi- duity, or came off with such indifferent success. I 8 goldsmith's essays. spent a whole season in the search, during which time my name has been enrolled in societies, lodges, convocations, and meetings without number. To some I was introduced by a friend, to others in- vited by an advertisement ; to these I introduced myself, and to those I changed my name to gain admittance. In short, no coquette was ever more solicitous to match her ribbons to her complexion, than I to suit my club to my temper, for I was toe> obstinate to bring my temper to conform to it. The first club 1 entered upon coming to towis was that of the Choice Spirits. The name was en- tirely suited to my taste; I was a lover of mirth, good-humour, and even sometimes of fun, from my-j. childhood. As no other passport was requisite but the pay- ment of two shillings at the door, I introduced my- self without further ceremony to the members, who were already assembled, and had for some time . begun upon business. The Grand, with a mallet in his hand, presided at the head of the table. I could not avoid, upon my entrance, making use of all my skill in physiognomy, in order to discover that supe- riority of genius in men, who had taken a title so superior to the rest of mankind. I expected to see the lines of every face marked with strong think- ing ; but though I had some skill in this science, I could for my life discover nothing but a pert sim- per, flat r or profound stupidity. My speculations were soon interrupted by the Grand, who had knocked down Mr. Sprigging for a song. I was upon this whispered by one of the company who sat next me, that I should now see something touched off to a nicety, for Mr. Sprig^ins DESCRIPTION OF VARIOUS CLUBS. 9 was going to give us Mad Tom in all its glory. Mr. Spriggins endeavoured to excuse himself; for, as he was to act a madman and a king, it was im- possible to go through the part properly without a crown and chains. His excuses were over-ruled by a great majority, and with much vociferation. The president ordered up the jack-chain, and instead of a crown, our performer covered his brows with an inverted Jordan. After he had rattled his chain, and shook his head, to the great delight of the whole company, he began his song. As I have heard few young fellows offer to\sing in company that did not expose themselves, it was no great dis- appointment to me to find Mr.Spriggins among the number; however not to seem an odd fish, I rose from my seat in rapture, cried out, bravo! encore! and slapped the table as loud as any of the rest. The gentleman who sat next me seemed highly pleased with my taste, and the ardour of my appro- bation ; and whispering, told me that I had suf- fered an immense loss; for had I come a few mi- nutes sooner, I might have heard Gee ho Dobbin sung in a tip-top manner by the pimple-nosed spirit at the president's right elbow; but he was evapo- rated before I came. As I was expressing my uneasiness at this disap- pointment, I found the attention of the company employed upon a fat figure, who, with a voice more rough than the Staffordshire giant's, was giving us the ' Softly sweet in Lydian measure' of Alexander's Feast. After a short pause of admiration, to this succeeded a Welch dialogue, with the humours of Teague and Taffy : after that came on Old Jack- son, with a story between every stanza : next was b 2 10 goldsmith's essays. sung the Dust-cart, and then Solomon's Song. The glass began now to circulate pretty freely; those who were silent when sober, would now be heard in their turn ; every man had his song, and he saw no reason why he should not be heard as well as any of the rest ; one begged to be heard while he gave Death and the Lady in high taste ; another sung to a plate which he kept trundling on the edges : nothing was now heard but singing ; voice rose above voice, and the whole became one uni- versal shout, when the landlord came to acquaint the company that the reckoning was drank out; Rabelais calls the moments in which a reckoning is mentioned the most melancholy of our lives : never was so much noise so quickly quelled, as by this short but pathetic oration of our landlord. " Drank out 1" was echoed in a tone of discontent round the table': " Drank out already! that was very odd ! that so much punch could be drank out al- ready : impossible !" The landlord however seemed resolved not to retreat from his first assurances, the company was dissolved, and a president chosen for the night ensuing. A friend of mine, to whom I was complaining some time after of the entertainment I have been describing, proposed to bring me to the club that he frequented; which he fancied would suit the gravity of my temper exactly. " We have at the Muzzy club," says he, " no riotous mirth, nor awk- ward ribaldry ; no confusion or bawling ; all is conducted with wisdom and decency ; besides, some of our members are worth forty thousand pounds ; men of prudence and foresight every one of them : these are the proper acquaintance, and to such DESCRIPTION OF VARIOUS CLUBS. 11 I will to-night introduce you/* I was charmed at the proposal ; to be acquainted with men worth forty thousand pounds, and to talk wisdom the whole night, were offers that threw me into rap- ture. At seven o'clock I was accordingly introduced by my friend, not indeed to the company; for though I made my best bow they seemed insensible of my approach, but to the table at which they were sitting. Upon my entering the room, I could not avoid feeling a secret veneration from the so- lemnity of the scene before me ; the members kept a profound silence, each with a pipe in his mouth, and a pewter pot in his hand, and with faces that might easily be construed into absolute wisdom. Happy society, thought I to myself, where the members think before they speak, deliver nothing rashly, but convey their thoughts to each other preg- nant with meaning, and matured by reflection. In this pleasing speculation I continued a full half hour, expecting each moment that somebody would begin to open his mouth ; every time the pipe was laid down I expected it was to speak ; but it was only to spit. At length resolving to break the charm myself, and overcome their ex- treme diffidence, for to this I imputed their silence ; I rubbed my hands, and, looking as wise as possi- ble, observed that the nights began to grow a little coolish at this time of the year. This, as it was directed to none of the company in particular, none thought himself obliged to answer ; wherefore I continued still to rub my hands and look wise. My next effort was addressed to a gentleman who sat next me; to whom I observed that the beer 12 goldsmith's essays. was extremely good : my neighbour made no re- ply, but by a large puff of tobacco-smoke. I now began to be uneasy in this dumb society, till one of them a little relieved me by observing that bread had not risen these three weeks : "Ay," says another, still keeping the pipe in his mouth, " that puts me in mind of a pleasant story about that — hem — very well ; you must know — but, be- fore I begin — sir, my service to you — where was I ?" My next club goes by the name of the Harmo- nical Society ; probably from that love of order and friendship which every person commends in institu- tions of this nature. The landlord was himself founder. The money spent is four-pence each ; and they sometimes whip for a double reckoning. To this club few recommendations are requisite, ex- cept the introductory four-pence and my landlord's good word, which, as he gains by it, he never re- fuses. We all here talked and behaved as every body else usually does on his club-night ; we discussed the topic of the day, drank each other's healths, snuffed the candles with our fingers, and rilled our pipes from the same plate of tobacco. The com- pany saluted each other in the common manner. Mr. Bellows-mender hoped Mr. Cur ry- comb -maker had not caught cold going home the last club-night ; and he returned the compliment by hoping that young master Bellows-mender had got well again of the chin-cough. Doctor Twist told us a sto- ry of a parliament-man with whom he was in- timately acquainted ; while the bug-man, at the same time, was telling a better story of a noble DESCRIPTION OF VARIOUS CLUBS. 13 lord with whom he could do any thing, A gentle- man in a -black wig and leather breeches, at the other end of the table, was engaged in a long nar- rative of the Ghost in Cock -lane : he had read it in the papers of the day, and was telling it to some that sat next him, who could not read. Near him Mr. Dibbins was disputing on the old subject of re- ligion with a Jew pedler, over the table, while the president vainly knocked down Mr. Leathersides for a song. Besides the combinations of these voices, which I could hear altogether, and which formed an upper part to the concert, there were several others playing under parts by themselves, and endeavouring to fasten on some luckless neigh- bour's ear, who was himself bent upon the same design against some other. We have often heard of the speech of a corpo- ration, and this induced me to transcribe a speech of this club, taken in short-hand, word for word, as it was spoken by every member of the company. It may be necessary to observe, that the man who told of the ghost had the loudest voice, and the longest story to tell, so that his continuing narrative filled every chasm in the conversation. * So, sir, d'ye perceive me, the ghost giving three loud raps at the bed- post — says my lord to me, my dear Smokeum, you know there is no man upon the face of the earth for whom 1 have so high — a dam- nable false heretical opinion of all sound doctrine and good learning ; for I'll tell it aloud, and spare not that — Silence for a song; Mr. Leathersides for a song — 'As I was a walking upon the highway 3 I met a young damsel' — Then what brings you here? says the parson to the ghost — Sanconiathan, 14 goldsmith's essays. Manetho, and Berosus — The whole way from Is- lington turnpike to Dog-house-bar — Dam — As for AbelDrugger, sir, he's damn'd low in it; my 'pren- tice boy has more of the gentleman than he — For murder will out one time or other ; and none but a ghost, you know, gentlemen,- can — Damme if I don't ; for my friend, whom you know, gentlemen, and who is a parliament-man, a man of conse- quence, a dear honest creature, to be sure ; we were laughing last night at — Death and damnation upon all his posterity by simply, barely tasting — Sour grapes, as the fox said once when'he could not reach them ; and I'll, I'll tell you a story about that that will make you burst your sides with laughing : A fox once— Will nobody listen to the song — 'As I was a walking upon the highway, I met a young damsel both buxom and gay.' — No ghost, gentle- men, can be murdered ; nor did I ever hear but of one ghost killed in all my life, and that was stab- bed in the belly with a — My blood and soul if I don't — Mr. Bellows-mender, I have the honour of drinking your very good health — Blast me if I do — dam — blood — bugs — fire — whizz — blid — tit — rat — trip.' The rest all riot, nonsense, and ra- pid confusion. Were I to be angry at men for being fools, I could here find ample room for declamation ; but alas ! I have been a fool myself; and why should I be angry with them for being something so natu- ral to every child of humanity ? Fatigued with this society, I was introduced the following night to a club of fashion. On taking my place I found the conversation sufficiently easy, and tolerably good-natured ; for my lord and sir DESCRIPTION OF VARIOUS CLUBS. 15 Paul were not yet arrived. I now thought myself completely fitted, and resolving to seek no further, determined to take up my residence here for the winter; while my temper began to open insensibly to the cheerfulness I saw diffused on every face in the room : but the delusion soon vanished, when the waiter came to apprise us that his lordship and sir Paul were just arrived. From this moment all our felicity was at an end ; our new guests bustled into the room, and took their seats at the head of the table. Adieu now all confidence ; every creature strove who should most recommend himself to our members of distinction. Each seemed quite regardless of pleasing any but our new guests ; and what before wore the appear- ance of friendship, was now turned into rivalry. Yet I could not observe, that amidst all this flat- tery and obsequious attention, our great men took any notice of the rest of the company. Their whole discourse was addressed to each other. Sir Paul told his lordship a long story of Moravia the Jew ; and his lordship gave sir Paul a very long account of his new method of managing silk- worms ; he led him, and consequently the rest of the company, through all the stages of feeding, sunning, and hatching ; with an episode on mulberry-trees, a di- gression upon grass seeds, and a long parenthesis about his new postilion. In this manner we tra- velled on, wishing every story to be the last ; but all in vain, " Hills over hills, and Alps on Alps arose." - The last club in which I was enrolled a member, 16 GOLDSMITH'S ESSAYS. was a society of moral philosophers, as they' called themselves, who assembled twice a week, in order to show the absurdity of the present mode of reli- gion, and establish a new one in its stead. I found the members very warmly disputing when I arrived; not indeed about religion or ethics, * but about who had neglected to lay down his pre- liminary six-pence upon entering the room. The president swore that he had laid his own down, and so swore all the company. During this contest I had an opportunity of ob- serving the laws, and also the members of the so- ciety. The president, who had been, as I was told, lately a bankrupt, was a tall pale figure with a long black wig ; the next to him was dressed in a large white wig and a black cravat : a third by the brownness of his complexion seemed a native of Jamaica; and a fourth by his hue appeared to be a blacksmith. But their rules will give the most just idea of their learning and principles. I. We being a laudable society of moral philo- sophers, intends to dispute twice a week about re- ligion and priestcraft. Leaving behind us old wives' tales, and following good learning and sound sense : and if so be, that any other other persons has a mind to be of the society, they shall be entitled so to do, upon paying the sum of three shillings, to be spent by the company in punch. II. That no member get drunk before nine of the clock, upon pain of forfeiting three-pence, to be spent by the company in punch. III. That as members are sometimes apt to go away without paying, every person shall pay six- pence upon his entering the room ; and all disputes SPECIMEN OF A MAGAZINE. 17 shall be settled by a. majority ; and all fines shall be paid in punch. IV. That sixpence shall be every night given to the president, in order to buy books of learning for the good of the society ; the president has al- ready put himself to a good deal of expense in buy- ing books for the club ; particularly the works of Tully, Socrates, and Cicero, which he will soon read to the society. V. All them who brings a new argument against religion, and who, being a philosopher, and a man of learning, as the rest of us is, shall be ad- mitted to the freedom of the society, upon paying six-pence only, to be spent in punch. VI. Whenever we are to have an extraordinary meeting, it .shall be advertised by some outlandish name in the newspapers. Saunders Mac Wild, President, Anthony Blewit, Vice-president, his -|- mark. William Turpin, Secretary. II. SPECIMEN OF A MAGAZINE IN MINIATURE. We essayists, who are allowed but one subject at a time, are by no means so fortunate as the writers of magazines, who write upon several. If a ma- gaziner be dull upon the Spanish war, he soon has us up again with the ghost in Cock-Lane ; if the reader begins to doze upon that, he is quickly 18 goldsmith's essays. rouzed by an Eastern tale ; tales prepare us for poe- try, and poetry for the meteorological history of the weather. It is the life and soul of a magazine ne- ver to be long dull upon one subject ; and the rea- der, like the sailor's horse, has at least the com- fortable refreshment of having the spur often changed. * As I see no reason why they should carry off all the rewards of genius, I have some thoughts for the future of making this essay a magazine in minia- ture : I shall hop from subject to subject ; and, if properly encouraged, I intend in time to adorn my feuille volant with pictures. But to begin in the usual form with A Modest Address to the Public. The public has been so often imposed upon by the unperforming promises of others, that it is with the utmost modesty we assure them of our inviola- ble design of giving the very best collection that ever astonished society. The public we honour and regard, and therefore to instruct and entertain them is our highest ambition, with labours calcu- lated as well for the head as the heart. If four extraordinary pages of letter-press be any recom- mendation of our wit, we may at least boast the honour of vindicating our own abilities. To say more in favour of the Infernal Magazine, would be unworthy the public ; to say less, would be inju- rious to ourselves. As we have no interested mo- tives for this undertaking, being a society of gen- tlemen of distinction, we disdain to eat of write like hirelings ; we are all gentlemen, resolved to SPECIMEN OF A MAGAZINE. 19 sell our sixpenny magazine merely for our own amusement. Be careful to ask for the Infernal Magazine. Dedication to that most ingenious of all Patrons, the Tripoline Ambassador. May it please your Excellency, As your taste in the fine arts is universally al- lowed and admired, permit the authors of the In- fernal Magazine to lay the following sheets hum- bly at your Excellency's toe ; and should our la- bours ever have the happiness of one day adorning the courts of Fez, we doubt not that the influence w T herewith we are honoured, shall be ever retained with the most warm ardour by, May it please your Excellency, Your most devoted humble servants, The Authors of the Infernal Magazine. A Speech spoken by the Indigent Philosopher to persuade his Club at Cateaton to declare War against Spain. My honest friends and brother politicians ; I perceive that the intended war with Spain makes many of you uneasy. Yesterday, as we were told, the stocks rose, and you were glad ; to-day they fall, and you are again miserable. But, my dear friends, what is the rising or the falling of the stocks to us, who have no money ? Let Nathan Ben Funk, the Dutch Jew, be glad or sorry for this ; but my good Mr. Bellows-mender, what is all 20 goldsmith's essays. this to you or me ? You must mend broken bellows, and I write bad prose as long as we live, whether we like a Spanish war or not. Believe me, my ho- nest friends, whatever you may talk of liberty and your own reason, both that liberty and reason are conditionally resigned by every poor man in every society ; and, as we are born to work, so others are born to watch over us while w T e are working. In the name of common sense then, my good friends, let the great keep watch over us, and let us mind our business, and perhaps we may at last get mo- ney ourselves, and set beggars at work in our turn. I have a Latin sentence that is worth its weight in gold, and which I shall beg leave to translate for your instruction. An author, called Lilly's Gram- mar, finely observes, that " JEs in pracsenti perfec- tum format ;" that is, " Ready money makes a per- fect man ;" let us then get ready money; and let them that will spend theirs by going to war with Spain. B&fcs for Behaviour, drawn up by the Indigent Philosopher. If you be a rich man, you may enter the room with three loud hems, march deliberately up to the chimney, and turn your back to the fire. If you be a poor man, I would advise you to shrink into the room as fast as you can, and place yourself as usual upon a corner of a chair in a remote corner. When you are desired to sing in company, I would advise you to refuse ; for it is a thousand to one but that you torment us with affectation or a bad voice. SPECIMEN OF A MAGAZINE. 21 If you be young, and live with an old man, I would advise you not to like gravy ; I was disinhe- rited myself for liking gravy. Don't laugh much in public ; the spectators that are not as merry as you, will hate you, either be- cause they envy your happiness, or fancy themselves the subject of your mirth. Rules for raising the Devil. Translated from the Latin of Danceus de Sortiariis, a Writer con- temporary with Calvin, and one of the Re- formers of our Church. The person who desires to raise the devil, is to sacrifice a dog, a cat, and a hen, all of his own pro- perty, to Beelzebub. He is to swear an eternal obedience, and then to receive a mark in some un- seen place, either under the eye-lid, or in the roof of the mouth, inflicted by the devil himself. Upon this he has power given him over three spirits ; one for earth, another for air, and a third for the sea. Upon certain times the devil holds an assembly of magicians, in which each is to give an account of what evil he has done, and what he wishes to do. At this assembly he appears in the shape of an old man, or often like a goat with large horns. They upon this occasion renew their vows of obedience ; and then form a grand dance in honour of their false deity. The devil instructs them in every me- thod of injuring mankind, in gathering poisons, and of riding upon occasion through the air. He shows them the whole method, upon examination, of giving evasive answers ; his spirits have power to assume the form of angels of light, and there is but 22 goldsmith's essays. one method of detecting them ; viz. to ask them in proper form, what method is the most certain to propagate the faith over all the world? To this they are not permitted by the Superior Power to make a false reply, nor are they willing to give the true one ; wherefore they continue silent, and are thus detected. III. ASEM, AN EASTERN TALE. Where Tauris lifts its head "above the storm, and presents nothing to the sight of the distant traveller but a prospect of nodding rocks, falling torrents, and all the variety of tremendous nature ; on the bleak bosom of this frightful mountain, secluded from society, and detesting the ways of men, lived Asem, the man-hater. Asem had spent his youth with men ; had shared in their amusements ; and had been taught to love his fellow- creatures with the most ardent affection ; but from the tenderness of his disposition he ex- hausted all his fortune in relieving the wants of the distressed. The petitioner never sued in vain ; the weary traveller never passed his door ; he only de- sisted from doing good when he had no longer the power of relieving. From a fortune thus spent in benevolence, he ex- pected a grateful return from those he had formerly relieved ; and made his application with confidence of redress : the ungrateful world soon grew weary of his importunity ; for pity is but a short lived pas- ASEM, AN EASTERN TALE. 23 sion. He soon therefore began to view mankind in a very different light from that in which he had be- fore beheld them : he perceived a thousand vices he had never before suspected to exist: wherever he turned, ingratitude, dissimulation, and treachery contributed to increase his detestation of them. Re- solved therefore to continue no longer in a world which he hated, and which repaid his detestation with contempt, he retired to this region of sterility, in order to brood over his resentment in solitude, and converse with the only honest heart he knew ; namely, with his own. A cave was his only shelter from the inclemency of the weather ; fruits gathered with difficulty from the mountain's side his only food : and his drink was fetched with danger and toil from the head- long torrent. In this manner he lived, sequestered from society, passing the hours in meditation, and sometimes exulting that he was able to live inde- pendently of his fellow-creatures. At the foot of the mountain an extensive lake displayed its glassy bosom ; reflecting on its broad surface the impending horrors of the mountain. To this capacious mirror he would sometimes descend, and reclining on its steep banks, cast an eager look on the smooth expanse that lay before him. " How beautiful," he often cried, " is nature ! how lovely even in her wildest scenes ! How finely contrasted is the level plain that lies beneath me, with yon aw- ful pile that hides its tremendous head in clouds I But the beauty of these scenes is no way compara- ble with their utility ; hence an hundred rivers are supplied, which distribute health and verdure to the various countries through which they flow. 24 goldsmith's essays. Every part of the universe is beautiful, just^ and wise, but man ; vile man is a solecism in nature ; the only monster in the creation. Tempests and whirlwinds have their use ; but vicious ungrateful man is a blot in the fair page of universal beauty. Why was I born of that detested species, whose vices are almost a reproach to the wisdom of the divine Creator ! Were men entirely free from vice, all would be uniformity, harmony, and order. A world of moral rectitude should be the result of a perfect moral agent. Why, why then, O Alia i must I be thus confined in darkness, doubt, and despair?" Just as he uttered the word despair, he was go- ing to plunge into the lake beneath him, at once to satisfy his doubts, and put a period to his anxiety ; when he perceived a most majestic being walking on the surface of the water, and approaching the bank on which he stood. So unexpected an object at once checked his purpose ; he stopped, contem- plated, and fancied he saw something awful and divine in his aspect. '• Son of Adam/' cried the genius, " stop thy rash purpose ; the Father of the Faithful has seen thy. justice, thy integrity, thy miseries, and hath sent me to afford and administer relief. Give me thine hand, and follow without trembling wherever I shall lead ; in-me behold the Genius of Conviction, kept by the Great Prophet, to turn from their er- rors those who go astray, not from curiosity, but a rectitude of intention. Follow me, and be wise." Asem immediately descended upon the lake, and his guide conducted him along the surface of the water; till, coming near the centre of the lake, ASEM, AN EASTERN TALE. 25 they both began to sink ; the waters closed over their heads; they descended several hundred fa- thoms, till Asem, just ready to give up his life as inevitably lost, found himself with his celestial guide in another world, at the bottom of the waters, where human foot had never trod before. His asto- nishment was beyond description, when he saw a sun like that he had left, a serene sky over his head, and blooming verdure under his feet. 4< I plainly perceive your amazement/' said the genius ; " but suspend it for a while. This world was formed by Alia, at the request, and under the inspection, of our great Prophet ; who once enter- tained the same doubts which filled your mind when I found you, and from the consequence of which you were so lately rescued. The rational inha- bitants of this world are formed agreeable to your own ideas ; they are absolutely without vice. In other respects it resembles your earth, but differs from it in being wholly inhabited by men who ne- ver do wrong. If you find this world more agree- able than that you so lately left, you have free per- mission to spend the remainder of your days in it ; but permit me for some time to attend you, that I may silence your doubts, and make you better ac- quainted with your company and your new habita- tion '." " A world without vice ! rational beings with- out immorality !" cried Asem in a rapture: " I thank thee, O Alia, who hast at length heard my petitions : this, this indeed will produce happiness, ecstasy, and ease. O ! for an immortality, to spend it among men who are incapable of ingratitude, c 26 goldsmith's essays. injustice, fraud, violence, and a thousand other crimes, that render society miserable." {< Cease thine acclamations/* replied the genius, " Look around thee ; reflect on every object and ac- tion before us, and communicate to me the result of thine observations. Lead wherever you think proper, I shall be your attendant and instructor."" Asem and his companion travelled on in silence for some time, the former being entirely lost in asto- nishment ; but at last recovering his former serenity, he could not help observing that the face of the country bore a near resemblance to that he had left, except that this subterranean world still seem- ed to retain its primeval wildness. " Here," cried Asem, " I perceive animals of prey, and others that seem only designed for their subsistence ; it is the very same in the world over our heads. But had I been permitted to instruct our Prophet, I would have removed this defect, and formed no voracious or destructive animals, which only prey on the other parts of the creation/* " Your tenderness for inferior animals is, I find, remarkable," said the genius, smiling : " but with regard to meaner creatures, this world exactly re- sembles the other; and indeed for obvious reasons; for the earth can support a more considerable num- ber of animals, by their thus becoming food for each other, than if they had lived entirely on her vegetable productions. So that animals of differ- ent natures, thus formed, instead of lessening their multitude, subsist in the greatest number possible. But let us hasten on to the inhabited country before us, and see what that offers for instruction. " ASEM, AN EASTERN TALE. 27 They soon gained the utmost verge of the forest, and entered the country inhabited by men without vice; and Asem anticipated in idea the rational de- light he hoped to experience in such an innocent society. But they had scarcely left the confines of the wood, when they beheld one of the inhabitants flying with hasty steps, and terror in his counte- nance, from an army of squirrels that closely pur- sued him. " Heavens!" cried Asem, " why does he fly ? What can he fear from animals so contempti- ble ?" He had scarcely spoken, when he perceived two dogs pursuing another of the human species, who, with equal terror and haste, attempted to avoid them. " This," cried Asem to his guide, " is truly surprising ; nor can I conceive the reason for so strange an action." " Every species of animals," replied the genius, " has of late grown very power- ful in this country; for the inhabitants at first thinking it unjust to use either fraud or force in destroying them, they have insensibly increased, and now frequently ravage their harmless fron- tiers." " But they should have been destroyed," cried Asem ; you see the consequence of such neglect." " Where is then that tenderness you so lately expressed for subordinate animals ?" re- plied the genius, smiling ; " you seem to have for- got that branch of justice." " I must acknowledge my mistake," returned Asem ; " I am now con- vinced that we must be guilty of tyranny and injus- tice to the brute creation, if we would enjoy the world ourselves. But let us no longer observe the duty of man to these irrational creatures, but sur- vey their connexions with one another." As they walked further up the country, the more 28 goldsmith's essays. he was surprised to see no vestiges of handsome houses, no cities, nor any mark of elegant design.. His conductor perceiving his surprise, observed, that the inhabitants of this new world were perfectly* content with their ancient simplicity ; each had a house, which, though homely, was sufficient to lodge his little family ; they were too good to build houses, which could only increase their own pride, and the envy of the spectator; what they built was for convenience, and not for show. " At least, then," said Asem, " they have neither architects, painters, nor statuaries, in their society ; but these are idle arts, and may be spared. However, before I spend much more time, you should have my thanks for introducing me into the society of some of their wisest men : there is scarcely any pleasure to me equal to a refined conversation ; there is nothing of which I am so much enamoured as wisdom." " Wisdom !" replied his instructor, " how ridi- culous ! We have no wisdom here, for we have no occasion for it ; true wisdom is only a know- ledge of our own duty, and the duty of others to us ; but of what use is such wisdom here ? each in- tuitively performs what is right in himself, and expects the same from others ! If by wisdom you should mean vain curiosity, and empty speculation, as such pleasures have their origin in vanity, lux- . ury, or avarice, we are too good to pursue them." " All this may be right," says Asem ; " but me- thinks I observe a solitary disposition prevail among the people ; each family keeps separately within their own precincts, without society, or without intercourse." " That indeed is true," re- plied the other : " here is no established society ; ASEM, AN EASTERN TALE. 29 nor should there be any: all societies are made either through fear or friendship : the people we are among are too good to fear each other ; and there are no motives to private friendship where all are equally meritorious." " Well, then," said the sceptic, " as 1 am to spend my time here, if I am to have neither the polite arts, nor wisdom, nor friendship, in such a world, I should be glad at least of an easy companion, who may tell me his thoughts, and to whom I may communicate mine." " And to what purpose should either do this ?" says the genius : " flattery or curiosity are vicious motives, and never allowed of here ; and wisdom is out of the question." " Still, however,'* said Asem, " the inhabitants must be happy; each is contented with his own possessions, nor avariciously endeavours to heap up more than is necessary for his own subsistence : each has therefore leisure for pitying those that stand in need of his compassion. , ' He had scarcely spoken, when his ears were assaulted with the la- mentations of a wretch who sat by the way side, and in the most deplorable distress seemed gently to murmur at his own misery. Asem immediately ran to his relief, and found him in the last stage of a consumption. " Strange," cried the son of Adam, " that men who are free from vice should thus suffer so much misery without relief ! " Be not * surprised," said the wretch who was dying ; " would it not be the utmost injustice for beings, who have only just sufficient to support themselves, and are content with a bare subsistence, to take it from their own mouths to put it into mine ? They never are possessed of a single meal more than is neces- 30 goldsmith's essays. sary; and what is barely necessary cannot be dis- pensed with/' " They should have been supplied with more than is necessary/* cried Asem; " and yet I contradict my own opinion but a moment be - fore : all is doubt, perplexity, and confusion. Even the want of ingratitude is no virtue here, since they never received a favour. They have, however, an- other excellence yet behind ; the love of their coun- try is still I hope one of their darling virtues." " Peace, Asem," replied, the guardian, with a countenance not less severe than beautiful, " nor forfeit all thy pretensions to wisdom; the same selfish motives by which we prefer our own interest to that of others, induce us to regard our country preferably to that of another. Nothing less than universal benevolence is free from vice, and that you see is practised here." " Strange!" cries the disappointed pilgrim, in an agony of distress ; what sort of a world am I now introduced to ? There is scarcely a single virtue, but that of tem- perance, which they practise ; and in that they are no way superior to the very brute creation. There is scarcely an amusement which they enjoy; forti- tude, liberality, friendship, wisdom, conversation, and love of country, all are virtues entirely unknown here : thus it seems, that to be unacquainted with vice is not to know virtue. Take me, O my genius, back to that very world which I have despised ; a world which has Alia for its contriver is much more wisely formed than that which has been pro- jected by Mahomet. Ingratitude, contempt, and hatred, I can now suffer, for perhaps I have de- served them. When I arraigned the wisdom of Providence, I only showed my own ignorance ; ON THE ENGLISH CLERGY. ' 31 henceforth let me keep from vice myself, and pity it in others." He had scarcely ended, when the genius, assu- ming an air of terrible complacency, called all his thunders around him, and vanished in a whirlwind. Asem, astonished at the terror of the scene, looked for his imaginary world ; when, casting his eyes around, he perceived himself in the very situation, and in the very place, where he first began to re- pine and despair ; his right foot had been just ad- vanced to take the fatal plunge, nor had it been yet withdrawn ; so instantly did Providence strike the series of truths just imprinted on his soul. He now departed from the water-side in tranquillity, and, leaving his horrid mansion, travelled to Seges- tan, his native city, where he diligently applied himself to commerce, and put in practice that wis- dom he had learned in solitude. The frugality of a few years soon produced opulence ; the number of his domestics increased ; his friends came to him from every part of the city ; nor did he receive them with disdain : and a youth of misery was concluded with an old age of elegance, affluence, and ease. IV. ON THE ENGLISH CLERGY, AND POPULAR PREACHERS. It is allowed on all hands, that our English divines receive a more liberal education, and improve that education by frequent study, more than any others L 32 goldsmith's essays. of this reverend profession in Europe. In general also it may be observed, thai a greater degree of gentility is affixed to the character of a student in England than elsewhere ; by which means our clergy have an opportunity of seeing better company while young, and of sooner wearing off those pre- judices which they are apt to imbibe even in the best regulated universities, and which may be justly termed the vulgar errors of the wise. Yet with all these advantages, it is very obvious, that the clergy are no where so little thought of by the populace, as here ; and though our divines are foremost with respect to abilities, yet they are found last in the effects of their ministry ; the vul- gar in general appearing no way impressed with a sense of religious duty. I am not for whining at the depravity of the times, or for endeavouring to paint a prospect more gloomy than in nature ; but certain it is, no person who has travelled will con- tradict me, w T hen I aver, that the lower orders of mankind in other countries testify- on every occa- sion the profoundest awe of religion ; while in Eng- land they are scarcely awakened into a sense of its duties, even in circumstances of the greatest distress. This dissolute and fearless conduct foreigners are apt to attribute to climate and constitution : may not the vulgar, being pretty much neglected in our exhortations from the pulpit, be a conspiring cause? Our divines seldom stoop to their mean capacities ; and they who want instruction most, find least in our religious assemblies. Whatever may become of the higher orders of mankind, who are generally possessed of collateral ON THE ENGLISH CLERGY. 33 motives to virtue, the vulgar should be particularly regarded, whose behaviour in civil life is totally hinged upon their hopes and fears. Those who con- stitute the basis of the great fabric of society should be particularly regarded; for in policy, as in archi- tecture, ruin is most fatal when it begins from the bottom. Men of real sense and understanding prefer a prudent mediocrity to a precarious popularity;' and, fearing to outdo their duty, leave it half done. Their discourses from the pulpit are generally dry, methodical, and unaffecting; delivered with the most insipid calmness ; insomuch, that, should the peaceful preacher lift his head over the cushion, which alone he seems to address, he might discover his audience, instead of being awakened to remorse, actually sleeping over his methodical and laboured composition. This method of preaching is however by some called an address to reason, and not to the pas- sions ; this is styled the making of converts from conviction: but such are indifferently acquainted with human nature, who are not sensible, that men seldom reason about their debaucheries till they are committed ; reason is but a weak antagonist when headlong passion dictates : in all such cases we should arm one passion against another r it is with the human mind as in nature ; from the mix-, ture of two opposites the result is most frequently neutral tranquillity. Those, who attempt to reason us out of our follies, begin at the wrong end, since the attempt naturally presupposes us capable of reason ; but to be made capable of this is one great point of the cure. c 2 34 goldsmith's essays. There are but few talents requisite to become a popular preacher, for the people are easily pleased if they perceive any endeavours in the orator to please them ; the meanest qualifications will work this effect, if the preacher sincerely sets about it. Perhaps little indeed, very little more is required, than sincerity and assurance ; and a becoming sin- cerity is always certain of producing a becoming assurance. " Si vis me flere, dolendum est primum tibi ipsi," is so trite a quotation, that it almost de- mands an apology to repeat it; yet, though ail allow the justice of the remark, how few do we find put it in practice ! our orators, with the most •faulty bashfulness, seem impressed rather with an awe^f their audience than with a just respect for the truths they are about to deliver ; they, of all professions, seem the most bashful, who have the greatest right to glory in their commission. The French preachers generally assume all the dignity which becomes men who are ambassadors from Christ : the English divines, like erroneous envoys, seem more solicitous not to offend the court to which they are sent, than to drive home the in- terest of their employer. The bishop of Massillon, in the first sermon he ever preached, found the whole audience, upon his getting into the pulpit, in a disposition no way favourable to his inten- tions ; their nods, whispers, or drowsy behaviour, showed him that there was no great profit to be expected from his sowing in a soil so improper ; however, he soon changed the disposition of his audience by his manner of beginning. " If," says he, " a cause, the most important that could be con- ceived, were to be tried at the bar before qualified ON THE ENGLISH CLERGY. 35 judges ; if this cause. in teres ted ourselves in parti- cular ; if the eyes of the whole kingdom were fixed upon the event ; if the most eminent counsel were employed on both sides ; and if we had heard from our infancy of this yet undetermined trial j would you not all sit with due attention, and warm ex- pectation, to the pleadings on each side ? Would not all your hopes and fears be hinged upon the final decision ? And yet, let me tell you, you have this moment a cause of much greater importance before you ; a cause where not one nation, but all the world, are spectators ; tried not before a fal- lible tribunal, but the awful throne of Heaven ; where not your temporal and transitory interests are the subject of debate, but your eternal happi- ness or misery, where the cause is still undeter- mined ; but perhaps, the very moment I am speak- ing may fix the irrevocable decree that shall last for ever ; and yet, notwithstanding all this, you can hardly sit with patience to hear the tidings of jour own salvation ; I plead the cause of Heaven, and I am scarcely attended to, &C." The style, the abruptness of a beginning like this, in the closet would appear absurd ; but in the pul- pit it is attended with the most lasting impressions ; that style, which in the closet might justly be called flimsy, seems the true mode of eloquence here. I never read a fine composition, under the title of a sermon, that I do not think the author has mis- called his piece ; for the talents to be used in wri- ting well entirely differ from those of speaking well. The qualifications for speaking, as has been already observed, are easily acquired ; they are accomplishments which may be taken up by every 36 goldsmith's essays. candidate who will be at the pains of stooping. Impressed with a sense of the truths he is about to deliver, a preacher disregards the applause or the contempt of his audience, and he insensibly assumes a just aud manly sincerity. With this talent alone we see what crowds are drawn around enthusiasts, even destitute of common sense ; what numbers converted to Christianity ! Folly may sometimes set an example for wisdom to practise ; and our regular divines may borrow instruction from even methodists, who go their circuits and preach prizes among the populace. Even Whitfield may be placed as a model to some of our young divines ; let them join to their own good sense his earnest manner of delivery. It will be perhaps objected, that by confining the excellencies of a preacher to proper assurance, earnestness, and openness of style, I make the qualifications too trifling for estimation : there will be something called oratory brought up on this oc- casion ; action, attitude, grace, elocution, may be repeated as absolutely necessary to complete the character; but let us not be deceived; common- sense is seldom swayed by fine tones, musical pe- riods, just attitudes, or the display of a white hand- kerchief ; oratorial behaviour, except in very able hands indeed, generally sinks into awkward and paltry affectation. It must be observed, however, that these rules are calculated only for him who would instruct the vulgar, who stand in most need of instruction ; to address philosophers, and to obtain the character of a polite preacher among the polite — a much more useless, though more sought-for character — REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 37 requires a different method of proceeding. All I shall observe on this head is, to entreat the polemic divine, in his controversy with the Deists, to act rather offensively than to defend ; to push home the grounds of his belief, and the impracticability of theirs, rather than to spend time in solving the ob- jections of every opponent. * It is ten to one,' says a late writer on the art of war, ' but that the as- sailant, who attacks the enemy in his trenches, is always victorious.' Yet, upon the whole, our clergy might employ themselves more to the benefit of society, by de- clining all controversy, than by exhibiting even the profoundest skill in polemic disputes ; their con- tests with each other often turn on speculative tri- fles ; and their disputes with the Deists are almost at an end, since they can have no more than victory, and that they are already possessed of, as their antagonists have been driven into a confession of the necessity of revelation, or an open avowal of atheism. To continue the dispute longer would only endanger it ; the sceptic is ever expert at puz- zling a debate which he finds himself unable to con- tinue; " and, like an Olympic boxer, generally fights best when undermost.' V. A REVERIE AT THE BOAR S-HEAD TAVERN, EAST- CHEAP. The improvements w 7 e make in mental acquire- ments only render us each day more sensible of the m^mwm^rmm*^ \ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 , I I i , i ii i i . . i . 1 1 1 . < 38 goldsmith's essays. defects of our constitution ; with this in view there- fore, let us often recur to the amusements of youth 5 endeavour to forget age and wisdom, and as far as innocence goes, be as much a boy as the best of them. Let idle declaimers mourn over the degeneracy of the age ; but in my opinion every age is the same. This I am sure of, that man in every season is a poor fretful being, with no other means" to escape the calamities of the times, but by endea- vouring to forget them ; for if he attempts to resist, he is certainly undone. If I feel poverty and pain, I am not so hardy as to quarrel with the execu- tioner, even while under correction ■ I find myself no way disposed to make fine speeches, while I am making wry faces. In a word, let me drink when the fit is on, to make me insensible; and drink when it is over, for joy that I feel pain no longer. The character of old Falstaff, even with all his faults, gives me more consolation than the most studied efforts of wisdom : I here behold an agree- able old fellow, forgetting age, and showing me the way to be young at sixty-five. Sure I am well able to be as merry, though not so comical as he — Is it not in my power to have, though not so much wit, at least as much vivacity ? — Age, care, wis- dom, reflection, begone — I give you to the winds. Let's have t'other bottle : here's to the memory of Shakspeare, Falstaff, and all the merry men of Eastcheap. Such were the reflections that naturally arose while I sat at the Boar's-head tavern, still kept at Eastcheap. Here, by a pleasant fire, in the very room where old sir John Falstaff cracked his jokes, ■MM REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 39 in the very chair which was sometimes honoured by prince Henry, and sometimes polluted by his immo- ral, merry companions ; Lsat and ruminated on the follies of youth ; wished to be young again ; but was resolved to make the best of life while it lasted, and now and then compared past and present times together. I considered myself as the only living representative of the old knight, and transported my imagination back to the times when the prince and he gave life to the revel, and made even de- bauchery not disgusting. The room also conspired to throw my reflections back into antiquity : the oak floor, the Gothic windows, and the ponderous chimney-piece, had long withstood the tooth of time ; the watchman had gone twelve ; my compa- nions had all stolen off; and none now remained with me but the landlord. From him I could have wished to know the history of a tavern, that had such a long succession of customers : I could not help thinking that an account of this kind would be a pleasing contrast of the manners of different ages ; but my landlord could give me no informa- tion. He continued to doze and sot, and tell a tedious story, as most other landlords usually do ; and, though he said nothing, yet was never silent : one good joke followed another good joke ; and the best joke of all was generally begun towards the end of a bottle. I found at last, however, his wine and his conversation operate by degrees : he insensibly began to alter his appearance. His cra- vat seemed quilled into a ruff, and his breeches swelled out into a fardingale. I now fancied him changing sexes ; and as my eyes began to close in 4w goldsmith's essays. clumber, I imagined my fat landlord actually con- verted into as fat a landlady. However, sleep made but few changes in my situation ; the tavern, the apartment, and the table, continued as before 5 nothing suffered mutation but my host, who w T as fairly altered into a gentlewoman, whom I knew to be dame Quickly, mistress of this tavern in the days of sir John ; and the liquor we were drinking, which seemed converted into sack and sugar. " My dear Mrs. Quickly/' cried I (for I knew her perfectly well at first sight) "I am heartily glad to see you. How have you left Falstaff, Pistol, and the rest of our friends below stairs ? Brave and hearty I hope \" "In good sooth," replied she, " he did deserve to live for ever ; but he maketh foul work on't where he hath flitted. Queen Pro- serpine and he have quarrelled for his attempting a rape upon her divinity ; and were it not that she still had bowels of compassion, it more than seems probable he might have been now sprawling in Tartarus." 1 now found that spirits still preserve the frailties of the flesh ; and that, according to the laws of cri- ticism and dreaming, ghosts have been known to be guilty of even more than platonic affection : w r herefore, as I found her too much moved on such a topic to proceed, I was resolved to change the subject ; and desiring she would pledge me in a bumper, observed with a sigh, that our sack was nothing now to what it was in former days : " Ah, Mrs. Quickly, those were merry times when you drew sack for prince Henry; men were twice as strong, and twice as wise, and much braver, and REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 41 ten thousand times more charitable than now. Those were the times ! The battle of Agincourt was a victory indeed ! Ever since that we have only been degenerating ; and I have lived to see the day when drinking is no longer fashionable. When men wear clean shirts, and women show their necks and arms : all are degenerated, Mrs. Quickly ; and we shall probably, in another century, be frittered away into beaus or monkeys. Had you been on earth to see what I have seen, it would congeal all the blood in your body (your soul I mean.) Why, our very nobility now have the intolerable arrogance, in spite of what is every day remon- strated from the press; our very nobility, I say, have the assurance to frequent assemblies, and pre- sume to be as merry as the vulgar. See, my very friends have scarcely manhood enough to sit to it till eleven ; and I only am left to make a night on't. Pr'ythee do me the favour to console me a little for their absence by the story of your own adventure, or the history of the tavern where we are now sitting : I fancy the narrative may have something singular." " Observe this apartment," interrupted my com- panion, " of neat device and excellent workmanship — In this room I have lived, child, woman, and ghost, more than three hundred years : I am ordered by Pluto to keep an annual register of every trans- action that passeth here ; and I have whilom com- piled three hundred tomes, which eftsoons may be submitted to thy regards." — " None of your whi- loms or eftsoons, Mrs. Quickly, if you please," I replied; " I know you can talk every whit as well as I can ; for, as you have lived here so long, it is but 42 goldsmith's essays." natural to suppose you should learn the conversa- tion of the company. Believe me, dame, at best, you have neither too much sense, nor too much language to spare ; so give me both as well as you •can ; but first my service to you : old women should water their clay a little now and then ; and now to your story." " The story of my own adventures," replied the vision, " is but short and unsatisfactory ; for believe me, Mr. Rigmarole, believe me, a woman w T ith a butt of sack at her elbow- is never long-lived. -Sir John's death afflicted me to such a degree, that I sincerely believe, to drown sorrow, I drank more liquor myself than I drew for my customers ; my grief was sincere, and the sack was excellent. The prior of a neighbouring convent (for our priors then had as much power as a Middlesex justice now) he, I say, it was who gave me a licence for keeping a disorderly house ; upon conditions I should never make hard bargains with the clergy, that he should have a bottle of sack every morning, and the liberty of confessing which of my girls he thought proper in private every night. I had continued for several years to pay this tribute ; and he, it must be con- fessed, continued as rigorously to exact it. I grew old insensibly ; my customers continued, however, to compliment my looks while I was by, but I could hear them say I was wearing, when my back was turned. The prior however still was constant, and so were half his convent ; but one fatal morning he missed the usual beverage ; for I had incautiously drank over-night the last bottle myself. What will you have on't ? The very next day Doll Tearsheet and I were sent to the house of correction, and REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 43 accused of keeping a low bawdy-house. In short, we were so well purified there with stripes, morti- fication, and penance, that we were afterwards ut- terly unfit for worldly conversation : though sack would have killed me, had I stuck to it; yet I soon died for want of a drop of something comfort- able, and fairly left my body to the care of the beadle. " Such is my own history ; but that of the tavern, where I have ever since been stationed, affords greater variety. In the history of this, which is one of the oldest in London, you may view the dif- ferent manners, pleasures, and follies, of men at different periods. You will find mankind neither better nor worse now than formerly: the vices of an uncivilized people are generally more detestable, though not so frequent, as those in polite society. It is the same luxury, which formerly stuffed your alderman with plum-porridge, and now crams him with turtle. It is the same low ambition, that for- merly induced a courtier to give up his religion to please his king, and now persuades him to give up his conscience to please his minister. It is the same vanity, that formeily stained our ladies' cheeks and necks with woad, and now paints them with carmine. Your ancient Briton formerly powdered his hair with red earth, like brick-dust, in order to appear frightful : your modern Briton cuts his hair on the crown, and plasters it with hogs-lard and flour ; and this to make him look killing. It is the same vanity, the same folly, and the same vice, only appearing different, as viewed through the glass of fashion. In a word, all mankind are a " " Sure the woman is dreaming/' interrupted I. 44 goldsmith's essays. " None of your reflections, Mrs. Quickly, if you love me ; they only give me the spleen. Tell me your history at once. I love stories, but hate rea- soning/' " If you please then, sir/' returned my companion, " I'll read you an abstract, which [ made of the three hundred volumes I mentioned just now. " My body was no sooner laid in the dust, than the prior and several of his convent came to purify the tavern from the pollutions with which they said I had filled it. Masses were said in every room, reliques were exposed upon every piece of furniture, and the whole house washed with a deluge of holy water. My habitation was soon converted into a monastery : instead of customers now applying for sack and sugar, my rooms were crowded with im- ages, reliques, saints, whores, and friars. Instead of being a scene of occasional debauchery, it was now filled with continual lewdness. The prior led the fashion, and the whole convent imitated his pious example. Matrons came hither to confess their sins, and to commit new. Virgins came hither who seldom went virgins away. Nor was this a convent peculiarly wicked ; every convent at that period was equally fond of pleasure, and gave a boundless loose to appetite. The laws allowed it ; each priest had a right to a favourite companion, and a power of discarding her as often as he pleased. The laity grumbled, quarrelled with their wives and daugh- ters, hated their confessors, and maintained them in opulence and ease. These, these, were happy times, Mr. Rigmarole ; these were times of piety, bravery, and simplicity V — " Not so very happy neither, good madam ! pretty much like the present ; REVERIE AT THE BOAR J S HEAD. 45 those that labour starve ; and those that do nothing wear fine clothes, and live in luxury. 5 ' <( In this manner the fathers lived for some yeltrs without molestation ; they transgressed, confessed themselves to each other, and were forgiven. One evening, however, our prior keeping a lady of di- stinction somewhat too long at confession, her hus- band unexpectedly came upon them, and testified all the indignation which was natural upon such an occasion. The prior assured the gentleman, that it was the devil who put it into his heart ; and the lady was very certain that she was under the in- fluence of magic, or she could never have behaved in so unfaithful a manner. The husband, however, was not to be put off by such evasions, but sum- moned both before the tribunal of justice. His proofs were flagrant, and he expected large da- mages. Such indeed he had a right to expect, were the tribunals of those days constituted in the same manner as they are now. The cause of the priest was to be tried before an assembly of priests ; and a layman was to expect redress only from their impartiality and candour. What plea then do you think the prior made to obviate this accusation ? He denied the fact, and challenged the plaintiff to try the merits of their cause by single combat. It was a little hard, you may be sure, upon the poor gentleman, not only to be made a cuckold, but to be obliged to fight a duel into the bargain; yet such was the justice of the times. The prior threw down his glove, and the injured husband was obli- ged to take it up, in token- of his accepting the challenge. Upon this the priest supplied his champion, for it was not lawful for the clergy to £6 goldsmith's essays. fight ; and the defendant and plaintiff, according to custom, were put in prison ; both ordered to fast and pray, every method being previously used to induce both to a confession of the truth. After a month's imprisonment, the hair of each was cut, the bodies anointed with oil, the field of battle ap- pointed and guarded by soldiers, while his majesty presided over the whole in person. Both the champions were sworn not to seek victory either by fraud or magic. They prayed and confessed upon their knees ; and after these ceremonies the rest was left to the courage and conduct of the comba- tants. As the champion whom the prior had pitched upon had fought six or eight times upon similar oc- casions, it was no way extraordinary to find him victorious in the present combat. In short, the husband was discomfited ; he was taken from the field of battle, stripped to his shirt, and after one of his legs had been cut off, as justice ordained in such cases, he was hanged as a terror to future offenders. These, these were the times, Mr. Rig- marole ; you see how much more just, and wise, and valiant, our ancestors were than us." — " I rather fancy, madam, that the times then were pretty much like our own : where a multiplicity of laws gives a judge as much power as a want of law ; since he is ever sure to find among the number some to countenance his partiality." " Our convent, victorious over their enemies, now gave a loose to every demonstration of joy. The lady became a nun, the prior was made a bishop, and three Wicklifiites were burned in the illumina- tions and fire- works that were made on the present occasion. Our convent now began to enjoy a very REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 47 high degree of reputation. There was not one in London that had the character of hating heretics so much as ours. Ladies of the first distinction chose from our convent their confessors ; in short, it flou- rished, and might have flourished to this hour, but for a fatal accident which terminated in its over- throw. The lady, whom the prior had placed in a nunnery, and whom he continued to visit for some time with great punctuality, began at last to per- ceive that she was quite forsaken. Secluded from conversation, as usual, she now entertained the vi- sions of a devotee, found herself strangely dis- turbed, but hesitated in determining whether she was possessed by an angel or a demon. She was not long in suspense ; for upon vomiting a large quantity of crooked pins, and finding the palms of her hands turned outwards, she quickly concluded that she was possessed by the devil. She soon lost entirely the use of speech ; and when she seemed to speak, eveiy body that was present perceived that her voice was not her own, but that of the devil within her. In short, she was bewitched ; and all the difficulty lay in determining who it could be that bewitched her. The nuns and the monks all demanded the magician's name, but the devil made no reply ; for he knew they had no authority to ask questions. By the rules of witchcraft, when an evil spirit has taken possession, he may refuse to answer any questions asked him, unless they are put by a bishop, and to these he is obliged to reply. A bishop therefore was sent for, and now the whole secret came out : the devil reluctantly owned that he was a servant of the prior ; that by his command he re- sided in his present habitation, and that without his 48 goldsmith's essays. command he was resolved to keep in possession. The bishop was an able exorcist ; he drove the devil out by force of mystical arms ; the prior was ar- raigned for witchcraft ; the witnesses were strong and numerous against him, not less than fourteen persons being by, who heard the devil talk Latin. There was no resisting such a cloud of witnesses ; the prior was condemned ; and he who had assisted at so many burnings, was burned himself in turn. These were times, Mr. Rigmarole : the people of those times were not infidels, as now, but sincere believers !" — " Equally faulty with ourselves : they believed what the devil was pleased to tell them ; and we seem resolved at last to believe neither God nor devil." " After such a stain upon the convent, it was not to be supposed it could subsist any longer ; the fa- thers were ordered to decamp, and the house was once again converted into a tavern. The king con- ferred it on one of his cast mistresses ; she was con- stituted landlady by royal authority ; and as the ta- vern was in the neighbourhood of the court, and the mistress a very polite woman, it began to have more business than ever, and sometimes took not less than four shillings a day. " But perhaps you are desirous of knowing what were the peculiar qualifications of a woman of fa- shion at that period ; and in a description of the present landlady you will have a tolerable idea of all the rest. This lady w T as the daughter of a noble- man, and received such an education in the coun- try as became her quality, beauty, and great expec- tations. She could make shifts and hose for her- self and all the servants of the family when she was REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 49 twelve years old. She knew the names of the four and twenty letters, so that it was impossible to be- witch her ; and this was a greater piece of learning than any lady in the whole country could pretend to. She was always up early, and saw breakfast served in the great hall by six o'clock. At this scene of festivity she generally improved good hu- mour, by telling her dreams, relating stories of spirits, several of which she herself had seen ; and one of which she was reported to have killed with a blaek-hafted knife. Hence she usually went to make pastry in the larder, and here she was fol- lowed by her sweethearts, who were much helped on in conversation by struggling with her for kisses. About ten miss generally w T ent to play at hot-cockles and blindman's buff in the parlour ; and when the young folks (for they seldom played at hot- cockles when grown old) were tired of such amusements, the gentlemen entertained miss with the history of their greyhounds, bear-baitings, and victories at cudgel-playing. If the weather was fine, they ran at the ring, shot at butts ; while miss held in her hand a ribbon, with which she adorned the con- queror. Her mental qualifications were exactly fitted to her external accomplishments. Before she was fifteen, she could tell the story of Jack the Giant Killer, could name every mountain that was inhabited by fairies, knew a witch at first sight, and could repeat four Latin prayers without a prompter. Her dress was perfectly fashionable ; her arms and her hair were completely covered ; a monstrous ruff was put round her neck, so that her head seemed like that of John the Baptist placed in a charger. In short, when completely equipped, her appear- 50 goldsmith's essays. ance was so very modest, that she discovered little more than her nose. These were the times, Mr. Rigmarole, when every lady that had a good nose might set up for a beauty; when every woman that could tell stories might be cried up for a wit."— " I am as much displeased at those dresses which con- ceal too much, as at those which discover too much i I am equally an enemy to a female dunce or a female pedant." " You maybe sure that miss chose a husband with qualifications resembling her own ; she pitched upon a courtier, equally remarkable for hunting and drinking, who had given several proofs of his great virility among the daughters of his tenants and do- mestics. They fell in love at first sight (for such was the gallantry of the times) were married, came to court, and madam appeared with superior quali- fications. The king was struck with her beauty. All property was at the king's command ; the hus- band was obliged to resign all pretensions in his wife to the sovereign, whom God had anointed to commit adultery where he thought proper. The king loved her for some time ; but at length re- penting of his misdeeds, and instigated by his father- confessor, from a principle of conscience removed her from his levee to the bar of this tavern, and took a new mistress in her stead. Let it not sur- prise you to behold the mistress of a king degraded to so humble an office. As the ladies had no men- tal accomplishments, a good face was enough to raise them to the royal couch ; and she, who was this day a royal mistress, might the next, when her beauty palled upon enjoyment, be doomed to infamy and want. REVERIE AT THE EOAR'S HEAD. 51 i( Under the care of this lady the tavern grew into great reputation ; the courtiers had not yet learned to game, but they paid it off by drinking : drunken- ness is- ever the vice of a barbarous, and gaming of a luxurious age. They had not such frequent en- tertainments as the moderns have, but were more expensive and more luxurious in those they had. All their fooleries were more elaborate, and more admired by the great and the vulgar than now. A courtier has been known to spend his whole fortune at a single feast, a king to mortgage his dominions to furnish out the frippery of a tournament. There were certain days appointed for riot and debauchery, and to be sober at such times was reputed a crime. Kings themselves set the example ; and I have seen monarchs in this room drunk before the entertain- ment was half concluded. These were the times, sir, when kings kept mistresses, and got drunk in public ; they were too plain and simple in those happy times to hide their vices, and act the hypo- crite, as now." — "Lord ! Mrs. Quickly," interrupt- ing her, " I expected to have heard a story, and here you are going to tell me I know not what of times and vices ; pr'ythee let me entreat thee once more to wave reflections, and give thy history without deviation." " No lady upon earth," continued my visionary correspondent, " knew how to put off her damaged wine or women with more art than she. When these grew flat, or those paltry, it was but changing the names ; the wine became excellent, and the girls agreeable. She was also possessed of the en- gaging leer, the chuck under the chin, winked at a double-entendre, could nick the opportunity of call- 52 goldsmith's essays. ing for something comfortable, and perfectly under- stood the discreef moments when to withdraw, The gallants of these times pretty much resembled the bloods of ours ; they were fond of pleasure, but quite ignorant of the art of refining upon it ; thus a court-bawd of those times resembled the common low-lived harridan of a modern bagnio. Witness, ye powers of debauchery, how often I have been present at the various appearances of drunkenness, riot, guilt, and brutality ! A tavern is the true pic- ture of human infirmity : in history we find only one side of the age exhibited to our view ; but in the accounts of a tavern we see every age equally absurd and equally vicious. i( Upon this lady's decease, the tavern was succes. sively occupied by adventurers, bullies, pimps, and gamesters. Towards the conclusion of the reign of Henry VII. gaming was more universally practised in England than even now. Kings themselves have been known to play off at primero, not only all the money and jewels they could part with, but the very images in churches. The last Henry played away, in this very room, not only the four great bells of St. Paul's cathedral, but the fine image of St. Paul, which stood upon the top of the spire, to Sir Miles Partridge, who took them down the next day, and sold them by auction. Have you then any cause to regret being born in the times you now live? or do you still believe that human nature continues to run on declining every age ? If we ob- serve the actions of the busy part of mankind, your ancestors will be found infinitely more gross, servile, and even dishonest, than you. If, forsaking his- tory, we only trace them in their hours of amuse- REVERIE AT THE BOAR'S HEAD. 53 ment and dissipation, we shall find them more sen- sual, more entirely devoted to pleasure, and in- finitely more selfish. - " The last hostess of note I find upon record was Jane Rouse. She was born among the lower ranks of the people ; and by frugality and extreme com- plaisance contrived to acquire a moderate fortune : this she might have enjoyed for many years, had she not unfortunately quarrelled with one of her neighbours, a woman who was in high repute for sanctity through the whole parish. In the times of which I speak, two women seldom quarrelled that one did not accuse the other of witchcraft, and she who first contrived to vomit crooked pins was sure to come off victorious. The scandal of a modern tea-table differs widely from the scandal of former times : the fascination of a lady's eyes at present is regarded as a compliment ; but if a lady formerly should be accused of having witchcraft in her eyes, it were much better both for her soul and body that she had no eyes at all. " In short, Jane Rouse was accused of witchcraft ; and though she made the best defence she could, it was all to no purpose ; she was taken from her own bar to the bar of the Old Bailey, condemned, and executed accordingly. These were times indeed ! when even women could not scold in safety. " Since her time, the tavern underwent several revolutions, according to the spirit of the times, or the disposition of the reigning monarch. It was this day a brothel, and the next a conventicle for enthu- siasts. It was one year noted for harbouring Whigs, and the next infamous for a retreat to Tories. Some years ago it was in high vogue, but at present it 54 goldsmith's essays. seems declining. This only may be remarked in general, that whenever taverns flourish most, the times are the most extravagant and luxurious. " " Lord ! Mrs. Quickly," interrupted I, " you have really deceived me : I expected a romance, and here you have been this half hour giving me only a de- scription of the spirit of the times : if you have no- thing but tedious remarks to communicate, seek some other hearer; I am determined to hearken only to stories/' I had scarcely concluded, when my eyes and ears seemed open to my landlord, who had been all this while giving me an account of the repairs he had made in the house, and was now got into the story of the cracked glass in the dining-room. VI. ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. I am fond of amusement in whatever company it is to be found ; and wit, though dressed in rags, is ever pleasing to me. I went some days ago to take a walk in St. James's Park, about the hour in which company leave it to go to dinner. There were but few in the walks, and those who stayed seemed by their looks rather more willing to forget that they had an appetite than gain one. I sat down on one of the benches, at the other end of which was seated a man in very shabby clothes. We continued to groan, to hem, and to cough, as usual upon such occasions, and at last ventured upon conversation. " I beg pardon, sir," cried I, ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. DO " but I think I have seen you before ; your face is familiar to me." — " Yes, sir," replied he, " I have a good familiar face, as my friends tell me. I am as well known in every town in England as the dro- medary or live crocodile. You must understand, sir, that I have been these sixteen years Merry Andrew to a puppet-show ; last Bartholomew fair my master and I quarrelled, beat each other, and parted ; he to sell his puppets to the pincushion- makers in Rosemary-lane, and I to starve in St. James's Park." " I am sorry, sir, that a person of your appear- ance should labour under any difficulties."—" O sir," returned he, " my appearance is very much at your service ; but though I cannot boast of eating much, yet there are few that are merrier : if I had twenty thousand a year I should be veiy merry ; and, thank the Fates, though not worth a groat, I am very merry still. If I have three-pence in my pocket, I never refused to be my three halfpence ; and if I have no money, I never scorn to be treated by any that are kind enough to pay my reckoning. What think you, sir, of a steak and a tankard? You shall treat me now ; and I will treat you again when I find you in the park in love with eating, and without money to pay for a dinner." As I never refuse a small expense for the sake of a merry companion, we instantly adjourned to a neighbouring ale-house, and in a few moments had a frothing tankard, and a smoking steak spread on the table before us. It is impossible to express how much the sight of such good cheer improved my companion's vivacity. " I- like this dinner, sir," says he, " for three reasons : first, because I am 56 goldsmith's essays, naturally fond of beef ; secondly, because I am hungry ; and, thirdly and lastly, because I get it for nothing : no meat eats so sweet as that for which we do not pay." He therefore now fell-to, and his appetite seemed to correspond with his inclination. After dinner was over, he observed that the steak was tough ; " and yet, sir," returns he, "bad as it was, it seemed a rump-steak to me. O the delights of poverty and a good appetite ! We beggars are the very foundlings of nature; the rich she treats like an arrant step-mother; they are pleased with nothing ; cut a steak from what part you will, and it is in- supportably tough ; dress it up with pickles, and _ even pickles cannot procure them an appetite. But the whole creation is filled with good things for the beggar; Calvert's butt out-tastes Champagne, and Sedgeley's home-brewed excels Tokay. Joy, joy, my blood, though our estates lie no where, we have fortunes wherever we go. If an inundation sweeps away half the grounds of Cornwall, I am content ; . I have no lands there : if the stocks sink, that gives me no uneasiness ; I am no Jew." The fellow's viva- city, joined to his poverty, I own, raised my curio- sity to know something of his life and circumstances ; and I entreated that he would indulge my desire. — " That I will, sir," said he, " and welcome ; only let us drink to prevent our sleeping ; let us have another tankard while we are awake ; let us have another tankard ; for, ah, how charming a tankard looks when full ! " You must know, then, that I am very well de- scended ; my ancestors have made some noise in the world ; for my mother cried oysters, and my ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. 57 father beat a drum : I am told we have even had some trumpeters in our family. Many a nobleman cannot show so respectful a genealogy ; but that is neither here nor there : as I was their only child, my father designed to breed me up to his own em- ployment, which was that of a drummer to a pup- pet-show. Thus the whole employment of my younger years was that of interpreter to Punch and king Solomon in all his glory. But though my father was very fond of instructing me in beat- ing all the marches and points of war, I made no very great progress, because I naturally had no ear for music ; so at the age of fifteen I went and listed for a soldier. As I had ever hated beating a drum, so I soon found that I disliked carrying a musket also ; neither the one trade nor the other were to my taste, for I was by nature fond of being a gen- tleman ; besides, I was obliged to obey my captain ; he has his will, I have mine, and you have yours : now I very reasonably concluded, that it was much more comfortable for a man to obey his own will than another's. " The life of a soldier soon therefore gave me the spleen ; I asked leave to quit the service ; but as I was tall and strong, my captain thanked me for my kind intention, and said, because he had a regard for me, we should not part. I wrote to my father a very dismal penitent letter, and desired that he would raise money to pay for my discharge ; but the good man was as fond of drinking as I was (sir, my service to you) , and those who are fond of drinking never pay for other people's discharges : in short he never answered my letter. What could be done ? If I have not money, said I to myself, to d2 53 goldsmith's essays. pay for my discharge, I must find an equivalent some other way : and that must be by running away. I deserted, and that answered my purpose every bit as well as if I had bought my discharge. " Well, I was now fairly rid of my military em- ployment ; I sold my soldier's clothes, bought worse, and, in order not to be overtaken, took the most unfrequented roads possible. One evening as I was entering a village, I perceived a man, whom I afterwards found to be the curate of the parish, thrown from his horse in a miry road, and almost smothered in the mud. He desired my assistance ; I gave it, and drew him out with some difficulty. He thanked me for my trouble, and was going off; but I followed him home, for I loved always to have a man thank me at his own door. The curate asked an hundred questions ; and whose son I was ; from whence I came ? and whether I would be faith- ful ? I answered him greatly to his satisfaction ; and gave myself one of the best characters in the world for sobriety, (sir, I have the honour of drink- ing your health) discretion, and fidelity. To make a long story short, he wanted a servant, and hired me. With him I lived but two months ; we did not much like each other ; I was fond of eating, and he gave me but little to eat ; I loved a pretty girl, and the old woman, my fellow servant, was Ul- natured and ugly. As they endeavoured to starve me between them, I made a pious resolution to prevent their committing murder ; I stole the eggs as soon as they were laid ; I emptied every un- finished bottle that I could lay my hands on ; what- ever eatable came in my way was sure to disappear ; in short, they found I would not do 5 so I was dis- ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. 59 charged one morning, and paid three shillings and sixpence for two months' wages. " While my money was getting ready, I employ- ed myself in making preparations for my depar- ture ; two hens were hatching in an out-house, I went and took the eggs from habit, and not to sepa- rate the parents from the children, I lodged hens and all in my knapsack. After this piece of fru- gality, I returned to receive my money, and with my knapsack on my back, and a staff in my hand, I bid adieu with tears in my eyes to my old bene- factor. I had not gone far from the house, when I heard behind me the cry of stop thief I but this only increased my dispatch ; it would have been foolish to stop, as I knew the voice could not be levelled at me. But hold, I think I - passed those two months at the curate's without drinking. Come, the times are dry, and may this be my poison if ever I spent two more pious, stupid months, in all my life! " Well, after travelling some days, whom should I light upon but a company of strolling players. The moment I saw them at a distance my heart warmed to them ; I had a sort of natural love for every thing of the vagabond order : they were em- ployed in settling their baggage, which had been overturned in a narrow way ; I offered my assist- ance, which they accepted ; and we soon became so well acquainted, that they took me as a servant. This was a paradise to me ; they sung, danced, drank, eat, and travelled, all at the same time. By the blood of the Mirabels, I thought I had never lived till then. I grew as merry as a grig, and laughed at every word that was spoken. They 60 goldsmith's essays. liked me as much as I liked them ; I was a very good figure, as you see ; and, though I was poor, I was not modest. " I love a straggling life above all things in the world ; sometimes good, sometimes bad ; to be warm to-day, and cold to-morrow; to eat when one can get it, and drink when (the tankard is out) it stands before me. We arrived that evening at Tenterden, and took a large room at the Grey- hound, where we resolved to exhibit Romeo and Juliet, with the funeral procession, the grave, and the garden-scene. Romeo was to be performed by a gentleman from the Theatre-Royal in Drury- lane; Juliet, by a lady who had never appeared on any stage before ; and I was to snuff the can- dles : all excellent in our way. We had figures enough, but the difficulty -was to dress them. The same coat that served Romeo, turned with a blue lining outwards, served for his friend Mercutio : a large piece of crape sufficed at once for Juliet's petticoat and pall : a pestle and mortar from a neighbouring apothecary's answered all the pur- poses of a bell; and our landlord's own family, wrapped in white sheets, served to fill up the pro- cession. In short, there were but three figures among us that might be said to be dressed with any propriety ; I mean the nurse, the starved apothe- cary, and myself. Our performance gave universal satisfaction : the whole audience were enchanted with our powers. " There is one rule by which a strolling-player may be ever secure of success ; that is, in our thea- trical way of expressing it, to make a great deal of the character. To speak and act as in common ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. 61 life, is not playing, nor is if; what people come to see ; natural speaking, like sweet wine, runs glibly over the palate, and scarcely leaves any taste be- hind it ; but being high in a part resembles vinegar, which grates upon the taste, and one feels it while he is drinking. To please in town or country, the way is to cry, wring, cringe into attitudes, mark the emphasis, slap the pockets, and labour like one in the falling sickness : that is the way to work for applause ; that is the way to gain it. " As we received much reputation for our skill on this first exhibition, it was but natural for me to ascribe part of the success to myself ; I snuffed the candles, and let me tell you, that without a candle- snuffer the piece would lose half its embellishments. In this manner we continued a fortnight, and drew tolerable houses ; but the evening before our in- tended departure, we gave out our very best piece, in which .all our strength was to be exerted. We had great expectations from this, and even doubled our prices, when behold one of the principal actors fell ill of a violent fever. This was a stroke like thun- der to our little company : they were resolved to go in a body, to scold the man for falling sick at so in- convenient a time, and that too of a disorder that threatened to be expensive ; I seized the moment, and offered to act the part myself in his stead. The case was desperate : they accepted my offer ; and I accordingly sat down, with the part in my hand and a tankard before me, (sir, your health), and studied the character, which was to be rehearsed the next day, and played soon after. " I found my memory excessively helped by drink- ing : I learned my part with astonishing rapidity* 62 goldsmith's essays. and bid adieu to snuffing candles ever after. I found that nature had designed me for more noble, employments, and I was resolved to take her when in the humour. We got together in order to re- hearse: and I informed my companions, masters now no longer, of the surprising change I felt with- in me. Let the sick man, said I, be under no un- easiness to get well again; I'll fill his place to universal satisfaction ; he may even die if he thinks proper ; I'll engage that he shall never be missed. I rehearsed before them, strutted, rant- ed, and received applause. They soon gave out, that a new actor of eminence was to appear, and immediately all the genteel places were be- spoke. Before I ascended the stage, however, I concluded within myself, that, as I brought mo- ney to the house, I ought to have my share in the profits. Gentlemen, said I, addressing our com- pany, I don't pretend to direct you ; far be it from me to treat you with so much ingratitude : you have published my name in the bills with the ut- most good-nature, and as affairs stand, cannot act without me : so gentlemen, to show you my grati- tude, I expect to be paid for my acting as much as any of you, otherwise I declare off. I'll brandish my snuffers, and clip candles as usual. This was a very disagreeable proposal, but they found that it was impossible to refuse it ; it was irresistible, it was adamant : they consented, and I went on in king Bajazet : my frowning brows, bound with a stocking stuffed into a turban, while on my cap- tived arms I brandished a jack-chain. Nature seemed to have fitted me for the_part ; I was tall, and had a loud voice ; my very entrance excited ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. 63 universal applause ; I looked round on the audience with a smile, and made a most low and graceful bow, for that is the rule among us. As it was a very passionate part, I invigorated my spirits with three full glasses (the tankard is almost out) of brandy. By Alia ! it is .almost inconceivable how I went through it; Tamerlane was but a fool to me ; though he was sometimes loud enough too, yet I was still louder than he : but then, besides, I had attitudes in abundance : in general I kept my arms folded up thus, upon the pit of my stomach ; it is the way at Drury-lane, and has always a fine effect. The tankard would sink to the bottom be- fore I could get through the whole of my merits : in short, I came off like a prodigy ; and such was my success, that I could ravish the laurels even from a sirloin of beef. The principal gentlemen and la- dies of the town came to me, after the play was over, to compliment me upon my success ; one praised my voice, another my person. ' Upon my word/ says the squire's lady, ' he will make one of the finest actors in Europe ; I say it, and I think I am something of a judge.' Praise in the begin- ning is agreeable enough, and we receive it as a fa- vour ; but when it comes in great quantities, we regard it only as a debt, which nothing but our me- rit could extort : instead of thanking them, I inter- nally applauded myself. We were desired to give our piece a second time; we obeyed; and I was applauded even more than before. " At last we left the town, in order to be at a horse-race at some distance from thence. I shall never think of Tenterden without tears of grati- tude and respect. The ladies and gentlemen there, 64 goldsmith's essays. take my word for it, are very good judges of plays and actors. Come, let us drink their healths, if you please, sir. We quitted the town, I say ; and there was a wide difference between my coining in and going out ; I entered the town a candle-snuffer, and I quitted it an hero! Such is the world; little to-day, and great to-morrow. I could say a great deal more upon that subject, something truly sublime, upon the ups and downs of fortune ; but it would give us both the spleen, and so I shall pass it over. " The races were ended before we arrived at the next town, which was no small disappointment to our company ; however, we were resolved to take all we could get. I played capital characters there too, and came off with my usual brilliancy. I sincerely believe I should have been the first actor of Europe, had my growing merit been properly cultivated ; but there came an unkindly frost which nipped me in the bud, and levelled me once more down to the common standard of humanity. I played sir Harry Wildair ; all the country ladies were charmed ; if I but drew out my snuff-box the whole house was in a roar of rapture ; when I exercised my cudgel, I thought they would have fallen into con- vulsions. " There was here a lady who had received an education of nine months in London ; and this gave her pretensions to taste, which rendered her the indisputable mistress of the ceremonies where- ever she came. She was informed of my merits ; every body praised me ; yet she refused at first go- ing to see me perforin ; she could not conceive, she said, any thing but stuff from a stroller; talked ADVENTURES OF A STROLLING PLAYER. 65 something in praise of Garrick, and amazed the ladies with her skill in enunciations, tones, and ca- dences ; she was at last however prevailed upon to go ; and it was privately intimated to me what a judge w r as to be present at my next exhibition : however, no way intimidated, I came on in sir Harry, one hand stuck in my breeches, and the other in my bosom, as usual at Drury-lane ; but instead of looking at me, I perceived the whole audience had their eyes turned upon the lady who had been nine months in London ; from her they expected the de- cision which was to secure the general's truncheon in my hand, or sink me down into a theatrical let- ter-carrier. I opened my snuff-box, took snuff; the lady was solemn, and so were the rest ; I broke my cudgel on Alderman Smuggler's back ; still gloomy, melancholy all, the lady groaned and shrugged her shoulders. I attempted by laughing myself, to excite at least a smile, but the devil a cheek could I perceive wrinkled into sympathy : I found it would not do ; all my good-humour now became forced ; my laughter was converted into hysteric grinning; and while I pretended spirits, my eye showed the agony of my heart : in short, the lady came with an intention to be displeased, and displeased she was ; my fame expired ; I am here, and (the tankard is no more !)" 66 goldsmith's essays. VII. RULES enjoined to be OBSERVED AT A RUSSIAN ASSEMBLY. When Catharina Alexowna was made empress of Russia, the women we're in an actual state of bond- age, but she undertook to introduce mixed assem- blies, as in other parts of Europe : -she altered the women's dress by substituting the fashions of Eng- land ; instead of furs, she brought in the use of taf- fety and damask ; and cornets and commodes in- stead of caps of sable. The women now found themselves no longer shut up in separate apart- ments, but saw company, visited each other, and were present at every entertainment. But as the laws to this effect were directed to a savage people, it is amusing enough, the manner in which the ordinances ran. Assemblies were quite unknown among them ; the czarina was satisfied with introducing them, for she found it impossible to render them polite. An ordinance was there- fore published according to their notions of breed- ing, which, as it is a curiosity, and has never before been printed that we know of, we shall give our readers. " I. The person at whose house the assembly is to be kept, shall signify the same by hanging out a bill, or by giving some other public notice, by way of advertisement, to persons of both sexes. Cl II. The assembly shall not be open sooner than RULES AT A RUSSIAN ASSEMBLY. 07 four or five o'clock in the afternoon, nor continue longer than ten at night. " III. The master of the house shall not be obliged to meet his guests, or conduct them out, or keep them company; but though he is exempt from all this, he is to find them chairs, candles, liquors, and all other necessaries that company may ask for ; he is likewise to provide them with cards, dice, and every necessary for gaming. i€ IV. There .shall be no fixed hour for coming or going away ; it is enough for a person to appear in the assembly. " V. Every one shall be free to sit, walk, or game as he pleases ; nor shall any one go about to hinder him, or take exceptions at what he does, upon pain of emptying the great eagle (a pint bowl full of brandy) : it shall likewise be sufficient, at entering or retiring, to salute the company. " VI. Persons of distinction, noblemen, superior officers, merchants, and tradesmen of note, head- workmen, especially carpenters, and persons em- ployed in chancery, are to have liberty to enter the assemblies ; as likewise their wives and children. " VII. A particular place shall be assigned the footmen, except those of the house, that there may be room enough in the apartments designed for the assembly. " VIII. No ladies are to get drunk upon any pretence whatsoever : nor shall gentlemen be drunk before nine. " IX. Ladies who play at forfeitures, questions and commands, &c. shall not be riotous ; no gen- tleman shall attempt to force a kiss, and no person 68 goldsmith's essays. shall offer to strike a woman in the assembly, un- der pain of future exclusion." Such are the statutes upon this occasiou, which, in their very appearance, carry an air of ridicule and satire. But politeness must enter every coun- try by degrees ; and these rules resemble the breed- ing of a clown, awkward but sincere. VIII. BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR, SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY THE ORDINARY OF NEWGATE. Man is a most frail being, incapable of directing his steps, unacquainted with what is to happen in this life ; and perhaps no man is a more manifest instance of the truth of this maxim, than Mr. The. Cibber, just now gone out of the world. Such a variety of turns of fortune, yet such a persevering uniformity of conduct, appears in all that happen- ed in his short span, that the whole may be looked upon as one regular confusion : every action of his life was matter of wonder and surprise, and his death was an astonishment. This gentleman was born of creditable parents, who gave him a very good education, and a great deal of good learning, so that he could read and write before he was sixteen. However he early disco- vered an inclination to follow lewd courses; he refused to take the advice of his parents, and pur- sued the bent of his inclination : he played at cards on Sundays, called himself a gentleman; fell out BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. 69 with his mother and laundress ; and even in these early days his father was frequently heard to ob- serve, that young The. — would be hanged. As he advanced in years, he grew more fond of pleasure; would eat an ortolan for dinner, though he begged the guinea that bought it ; and was once known to give three pounds for a plate of green pease, which he had collected over-night as charity for a friend in distress : he ran into debt with every body that would trust him, and none could build a sconce better than he : so that at last his creditors swore with one accord that The. — would be hanged. But as getting into debt, by a man who had no visible means but impudence for subsistence, is a thing that every reader is not acquainted with, I must explain that point a little, and that to his sa- tisfaction. There are three ways of getting into debt ; first, by pushing a face ; as thus : " You, Mr. Lutestring, send me home six yards of that padi^soy, dammee; — but, harkee, don't think I ever intend to pay you for it, dammee." At this the mercer laughs heartily; cuts off the paduasoy, and sends it home ; nor is he, till too late, surprised to find the gentle- man had said nothing but truth, and kept his word. The second method of running into debt is call- ed fineering ; which is getting goods made up in such a fashion, as to be unfit for every other pur- chaser ; and if the tradesman refuses to give them credit, then threaten to leave them upon his hands. But the third and best method is called, " Being 70 goldsmith's essays. the good customer." The gentleman first buys some trifle, and pays for it in ready money ; he comes a few days after with nothing about him but bank- bills, and buys, we will suppose, a six-penny tweezer- case ; the bills are too great to be changed, so he promises to return punctually the day after, and pay for what he has bought. In this promise he is punctual, and this is repeated for eight or ten times, till his face is well known, and he has got at last the character of a good customer. By this means he gets credit for something consider- able, and then never pays for it. In all this the young man, who is tire unhappy subject of our present reflections, was very expert ; and could face, fineer, and bring custom to a shop w r ith any man in England : none of his companions could exceed him in this ; and his very companions at last said that The. — would be hanged. As he grew old he grew never the better; he loved ortolans and green pease as before ; he drank gravy- soup w T hen he could get it, and always thought his oysters tasted best when he got them for nothing, or, which was just the same, when he bought them upon tick . thus the old man kept up the vices of the youth, and what he w r anted in power, he made up by iuclination ; so that all the world thought that old The. — would be hanged. And now, reader, I have brought him to his last scene ; a scene where perhaps my duty should have obliged me to assist. You expect, perhaps, his dy- ing words, and the tender farewell he took of his wife and children ; you expect an account of his coffin and white gloves, his pious ejaculations, and the papers he left behind him. In this I cannot in- ON NATIONAL CONCORD. 71 dulge your curiosity*; for, oh ! the mysteries of Fate, The. was drowned ! " Reader," as Hervey saith, u pause and ponder ; and ponder and pause ; who knows what thy own end may be !" IX. ON NATIONAL CONCORD. I take the liberty to communicate to the public a few loose thoughts upon a subject, which, though often handled, has not yet, in my opinion, been fully discussed : I mean national concord, or una- nimity, which in this kingdom has been generally considered as a bare possibility, that existed no where but in speculation. Such an union is per- haps neither to be expected nor wished for in a country, whose liberty depends rather upon the ge- nius of the people, than upon any precautions which they have taken in a constitutional way for the guard and preservation of this inestimable blessing. There is a very honest gentleman, with whom I have been acquainted these thirty years, during which there has not been one speech uttered against the ministry in parliament, nor struggle at an election for a burgess to serve in the House of Commons, nor a pamphlet published in opposition to any measure of the administration, nor even a private censure passed in his hearing upon the mis- conduct of any person concerned in public affairs, but he is immediately alarmed, and loudly exclaims against such factious doings, in order to set the peo- 72 goldsmith's essays. pie by the ears together at such a delicate junc- ture. " At any other time (says he) such opposition might not be improper, and I don't question the facts that are alleged ; but at this crisis, sir, to in- flame the nation ! — the man deserves to be punish- ed as a traitor to his country ." In a word, accord- ing to this gentleman's opinion, the nation has been in a violent crisis at any time these thirty years ; and were it possible, for him to live another cen- tury, he would never find any period, at which a man might with safety impugn the infallibility of a minister. The case is no more than this : my honest friend has invested his whole fortune in the stocks, on go- vernment security, and trembles at even* whiff of popular discontent. Were every British subject of the same tame and timid disposition, Magna Char- ta (to use the coarse phrase of Oliver Cromwell) would be no more regarded by an ambitious prince, than magna f— ta, and the liberties of England expire without a groan. Opposition, when re- strained within due bounds, is the salubrious gale that ventilates the opinions of the people, which might otherwise stagnate into the most abject sub- mission. It may be said to purify the atmosphere of politics ; to dispel the gross vapours raised by the influence of ministerial artifice and corruption, until the constitution, like a mighty rock, stands full disclosed to the view of every individual, who dwells within the shade of its protection. Even when this gale blows with augmented violence, it generally tends to the advantage of the common- wealth, it awakes the apprehension, and conse- quently arouses all the faculties of the pilot at the ON NATIONAL CONCORD. 73 helm, who redoubles his vigilance and caution, ex- erts his utmost skill, and becoming acquainted with the nature of the navigation, in a little time learns to suit his canvass to the roughness of the sea, and the trim of the vessel. Without these intervening storms of opposition to exercise his faculties, he would be- come enervate, negligent, and presumptuous ; and in the wantonness of his power, trusting to some deceitful calm, perhaps hazard a step that would wreck the constitution. Yet there is a measure in all things. A moderate frost will fertilize the glebe with. nitrous particles, and destroy the eggs of per- nicious insects, that prey upon the fancy of the year : but if this frost increases in severity and duration, it will chill the seeds, and even freeze up the roots of vegetables ; it will check the bloom, nip the buds, and blast all the promise of the spring. The vernal breeze that drives the fogs before it, that brushes the cobwebs from the boughs, that fans the air, and fosters vegetation, if augmented to a tempest, will strip the leaves, overthrow the tree, and desolate the garden. The auspicious gale be- fore which the trim vessel plows the bosom of the sea, while the mariners are kept alert in duty and in spirits, if converted to a hurricane, overwhelms the crew with terror and confusion. The sails are rent, the cordage cracked, the masts give way ; the master eyes the havock with mute despair, and the vessel founders in the storm. Opposition, when confined within its proper channel, sweeps away those beds of soil and banks of sand which cor- ruptive power had gathered; but when it over- flows its banks, and deluges the plain, its course is marked by ruin and devastation. £ 74 goldsmith's essays. The opposition necessary in a free state, like that of Great Britain, is not at all incompatible with that national concord, which ought to unite ' the people on all emergencies, in which the general safety is at stake. It is the jealousy of patriotism, not the rancour of party ; the warmth of candour, not the virulence of hate ; a transient dispute among friends, not an implacable feud that admits of no reconciliation. The history of all ages teems with the fatal effects of internal discord ; and were history and tradition annihilated, common sense would plainly point out the mischiefs that must arise from want of harmony and national union. Every school- boy can have recourse to the fable of the rods, which, when united in a bundle, no strength could bend ; but when separated into single twigs, a child could break with ease. X. FEMALE WARRIORS. I have spent the greater part of my life in making observations on men and things, and in projecting schemes for the advantage of my country; and though my labours met with an ungrateful return, I will still persist in my endeavours for its service, like that venerable, unshaken, and neglected pa- triot, Mr. Jacob Henriquez, who, though of the Hebrew nation, hath exhibited a shining example of Christian fortitude and perseverance*. And * A man well known at this period (1762), as well as FEMALE WARRIORS. 75 here my conscience urges me to confess, that the hint upon which the following proposals are built, was taken from an advertisement of the said pa- triot Henriquez, in which he gave the public to understand, that Heaven had indulged him with " seven blessed daughters." Blessed they are, no doubt, on account of their own and their father's virtues : but more blessed may they be, if the scheme I offer should be adopted by the legisla- ture. The proportion which the number of females born in these kingdoms bears to the male children, is, I think, supposed to be as thirteen to fourteen : but as women are not so subject as the other sex to accidents and intemperance, in numbering adults we shall find the balance on the female side. If, in calculating the numbers of the people, we take in the multitudes that emigrate to the plantations, whence they never return, those that die at sea and make their exit at Tyburn, together with the con- sumption of the present Avar, by sea and land, in the Atlantic, Mediterranean, in the German and Indian oceans, in Old France, New France, North America^ the Leeward Islands, Germany, Africa, and Asia, we may fairly state the loss of men during the war at one hundred thousand. If this be the case, there must be a superplus of the other sex amounting to the same number, and this superplus - will consist of women able to bear arms ; as I take during many preceding years, for the numerous schemes he was daily offering to various ministers, for the purpose of raising money by loans, paying off the national encum- brances, &c. &c. none of which, however, were ever known to have received the smallest notice. 76 goldsmith's essays. it for granted, that all those who are fit to bear children are likewise fit to bear arms. Now as we have seen the nation governed by old women, I hope to make it appear that it may be defended by young women ; and surely this scheme will not be rejected as unnecessary at such a juncture,* when our armies in the four quarters of the globe are in want of recruits ; when we find ourselves entangled in a new war with Spain, on the eve of a rupture in Italy, and indeed in a fair way of being obliged" to make head against all the great poten- tates of Europe. But, before I unfold my design, it may be ne- cessary to obviate, from experience as well as argument, the objections which may be made to the delicate frame and tender disposition of the female sex, rendering them incapable of the toils, and in- superably averse to the horrors of war. All the world has heard of the nation of Amazons, who in- habited the banks of the river Thermodoon in Cap- padocia ; who expelled their men by force of arms, defended themselves by their own prowess, ma- naged the reins of government, prosecuted the ope- rations in war, and held the other sex in the utmost contempt. We are informed by Homer that Pen- thesilea, queeu of the Amazons, acted as auxiliary to Priam, and fell valiantly fighting in his cause be- fore the walls of Troy. Quintus Curtius tells us, that Thalestris brought one hundred armed Ama- zons in a present to Alexander the Great. Diodo- rus Siculus expressly says, there was a nation of female warriors in Africa, who fought against the * In the year 1702. FEMALE WARRIORS. 77 Libyan Hercules. We read in the voyages of Co- lumbus, that one of the Caribbee islands was pos- sessed by a tribe of female warriors, who kept all the neighbouring Indians in awe ; but we need not go further than our own age and country to prove that the spirit and constitution of the fair sex are equal to the dangers and fatigues of war. Every novice who has read the authentic and important History of the Pirates, is well acquainted with the exploits of two heroines, called Mary Read and Anne Bonny. I myself have had the honour to drink with Anne Cassier, alias Mother Wade, who had distinguished herself among the buccaneers of America, and in her old age kept a punch-house in Port-Royal of Jamaica. I have likewise conversed with Moll Davis, who had served as a dragoon in all queen Anne's wars, and was admitted on the pension of Chelsea. The late war with Spain, and even the present, hath produced instances of fe- males enlisting both in the land and sea service, and behaving with remarkable bravery in the disguise of the other sex. And who has not heard of the cele- brated Jenny Cameron, and some other enterprising ladies of North Britain, who attended a certain Adventurer in all his expeditions, and headed their respective clans in a military character? That strength of body is. often equal to the courage of mind implanted in the fair sex, will not be denied by those who have seen the water- women of Ply- mouth ; the female drudges of Ireland, Wales, and Scotland; the fish-women of Billingsgate; the weeders, podders, and hoppers, who swarm in the fields ; and the bunters who swagger in the streets of London ; not to mention the indefatigable trulls 78 goldsmith's essays. who follow the camp, and keep up with the line of march, though loaded with "bantlings and other There is scarcely a street in this metropolis with- out one or more viragos, who discipline their hus- bands, and domineer over the whole neighbourhood. Many months are not elapsed since I was witness to a pitched battle between two athletic females, who fought with equal skill and fury until one of them gave out, after having sustained seven falls on the hard stones. They were both stripped to the un- der petticoat ; their breasts were carefully swathed with handkerchiefs, and as no vestiges of features were to be seen in either when I came up, I ima- gined the combatants were of the other sex, until a bystander assured me of the contrary, gjving me to understand that the conqueror had lain in about five weeks of twin bastards, begot by her second, who was an Irish chairman. When I see the ave- nues of the Strand beset every night with troops of fierce Amazons, who, with dreadful imprecations, stop, and beat, and plunder passengers, I cannot help wishing that such martial talents were converted to the benefit of the pubiic ; and that those who are so loaded with temporal fire, and so little afraid of eternal fire, should, instead of ruining the souls and bodies of their fellow-citizens, be put in a way of turning their destructive qualities against the enemies of the nation. Having thus demonstrated that the fail* sex are not deficient in strength and resolution, I would humbly propose, that as there is an excess on their side in quantity to the amount of one hundred thou- sand, part of that number may be employed in FEMALE WARRIORS. 79 recruiting the army, as well as in raising thirty- new Amazonian regiments, to be commanded by females, and serve in regimentals adapted to their sex. The Amazons of old appeared with the left breast bare, an open jacket and trowsers, that de- scended no farther than the knee ; the right breast was destroyed, that it might not impede them in bending the bow, or darting the javelin ; but there is no occasion for this cruel excision in the present discipline, as we have seen instances of women who handle the musquet, without finding any inconve- nience from that protuberance. As the sex love gaiety, they may be clothed in vests of pink satin, and open drawers of the same, with buskins on their feet and legs, their hair tied behind and floating on their shoulders, and their hats adorned with white feathers : they may be armed with light carbines and long bayonets, with- out the encumbrance of swords or shoulder-belts. I make no doubt but many young ladi-es of figure and fashion will undertake to raise companies at their own expense, provided they like their colonels; but I must insist upon it, if this scheme should be embraced, that Mr. Henriquez's seven blessed daughters may be provided with commissions, as the project is in some measure owing to the hints of that venerable patriot. I moreover give it as my opinion, that Mrs. Kitty Fisher* shall have the command of a battalion, and the nomination of her own officers, provided she will warrant them all sound, and be content to wear proper badges of distinction. * A celebrated courtezan of that time. 80 goldsmith's essays. A female brigade, properly disciplined and ac- coutred, would not, I am persuaded, be afraid to charge a numerous body of the enemy, over whom they would have a manifest advantage ; for if the barbarous Scythians w T ere ashamed to fight with the Amazons who invaded them, surely the French, who pique themselves on their sensibility and devo- tion to the fair sex, would not act upon the offen- sive against a band of female warriors, arrayed in all the charms of youth and beauty. XL ON NATIONAL PREJUDICE. As I am one of that sauntering tribe of mortals who spend the greatest part of their time in taverns, coffee-houses, and other places of public resort,-! have thereby an opportunity of observing an infi- nite variety of characters, which, to a person of a contemplative turn, is a much higher entertainment than a new of all the curiosities of art or nature. In one of these my late rambles, I accidentally fell into the company of half a dozen gentlemen who were engaged in a warm dispute about some poli- tical affair; the decision of which, as they were equally divided in their sentiments, they thought proper to refer to me, which naturally drew me in for a share of the conversation. Amongst a multiplicity of other topics, we took occasion to talk of the different characters of the several nations of Europe ; when one of the gentle- men, cocking his hat, and assuming such an air of ON NATIONAL PREJUDICE. 81 importance as if he had possessed all the merit of the English nation in his own person, declared that the Dutch were a parcel of avaricious wretches; the French a set of flattering sycophants ; that the Germans were drunken sots, and beastly gluttons ; and the Spaniards proud, haughty, and surly ty- rants ; but that in bravery, generosity, clemency, and in every other virtue, the English excelled all the rest of the world. This very learned and judicious remark was re- ceived with .a general smile of approbation by all the company — all, I mean, but your humble ser- vant ; who, endeavouring to keep my gravity as well as I could, and reclining my head upon my arm, continued for some time in a posture of affected thoughtfulness, as if I had been musing on some- thing else, and did not seem to attend to the sub- ject of conversation; hoping by these means to avoid the disagreeable necessity of explaining my- self, and thereby depriving the gentleman of his imaginary happiness. But my pseudo-patriot had no miner to let me escape so easily. Not satisfied that his opinion should pass without contradiction, he was deter- mined to have it ratified by the suffrage of every one in the company ; for which purpose, address- ing himself to me, with an air of inexpressible con- fidence, he asked me if I was not of the same way of thinkiug. As I am never forward in giving my opinion, especially when I have reason to believe that it will not be agreeable; so, when 1 am obliged to give it, I always hold it for a maxim to speak my real sentiments. I therefore told him, that for my own part I should not have ventured e 2 i 82 goldsmith's essays. to talk in such a peremptory strain, unless I had made the tour of Europe, and examined the man- ners of these several nations with great care and accuracy*: that perhaps a more impartial judge would not scruple to affirm, that the Dutch were more frugal and industrious, the French more tem- perate and polite, the Germans more hardy and pa- tient of labour and fatigue, and the Spaniards more staid and sedate, than the English ; who, though undoubtedly brave and generous, were at the same time rash, headstrong, and impetuous ; too apt to be elated with prosperity, and to despond in ad- versity. I could easily perceive that all the company be- gan to regard me with a jealous eye before I had finished my answer, which I had no sooner done, than the patriotic gentleman observed, with a con- temptuous sneer, that he was greatly surprised how some people could have the conscience to live in a country which they did not love, and to enjoy the protection of a government to which in their hearts they were inveterate enemies. Finding that by this modest declaration of my sentiments I had for- feited the good opinion of my companions, and given them occasion to call my political principles in question, and well knowing that it was in vain to argue with men who were so very full of them- selves, I threw down my reckoning, and retired to my own lodgings, reflecting on the absurd and ridiculous nature of national prejudice and prepos- session. Among all the famous sayings of antiquity, there is none that does greater honour to the author, or affords greater pleasure to the reader (at least ON NATIONAL PREJUDICE. 83 if he be a person of a generous and benevolent heart), than that of the philosopher, who, being asked what " countryman he was," replied that he was " a citizen of the world." How few are there to be found in modern times who can say the same, or whose conduct is consistent with such a profession ! we are now become so much English- men, Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Spaniards, or Ger- mans, that we are no longer citizens of the world ; so much the natives of one particular spot, or members of one petty society, that we no longer consider ourselves as the general inhabitants of the globe, or members of that grand society which com- prehends the whole human kind. Did these prejudices prevail only among the meanest and lowest of the people, perhaps they might be excused, as they have few, if any, oppor- tunities of correcting them by reading, travelling, or conversing with foreigners ; but the misfortune is, that they infect the minds, and influence the con- duct, even of our gentlemen ; of those I mean, who have every title to this appellation bat an exemp- tion from prejudice, which, however, in my opinion, ought to be regarded as the characteristical mark of a gentleman ; for, let a man's birth be ever so high, his station ever so exalted, or his fortune ever so large, yet if he is not free from national and other prejudices, I should make bold to tell him, that he had a low and vulgar mind, and had no just claim to the character of a gentleman. And in fact you will always find, that those are most apt to boast of national merit, who have little or no merit of their own to depend on ; than which, to be sure, nothing is more natural : the slender vine twists around 84 goldsmith's essays. the sturdy oak for no other reason in the world but because it has not strength sufficient to support itself. Should it be alleged in defence of national pre- judice, that it is the natural and necessary growth of love to our country, and that therefore the for- mer cannot be destroyed without hurting the latter, I answer, that this is a gross fallacy and delusion. That it is the growth of love to our country I will allow; but that it is the natural and necessary growth of it, I absolutely deny. Superstition and enthusiasm too are the growth of religion; but who ever took it in his head to affirm that they are the necessary growth of this noble principle ? They are, if you will, the bastard sprouts of this heavenly plant, but not its natural and genuine branches, and may safely enough be lopped off, without doing any harm to the parent stock ; nay, perhaps, till once they are lopped off, this goodly tree can never flou- rish in perfect health and vigour. Is it not very possible that I may love my own country, without hating the natives of other coun- tries ? that I may exert the most heroic bravery, the most undaunted resolution, in defending its laws and liberty, without despising all the rest of the world as cowards and poltroons ? Most certainly it is ; and if it were not. — But what need I suppose what is absolutely impossible ? But if it were not, I must own, I should prefer the title of the ancient philosopher, viz. a Citizen of the World, to that of an Englishman, a Frenchman, an European, or to any other appellation whatever. ON TASTE. . 85 XII. ON TASTE. Amidst the frivolous pursuits and pernicious dissi- pations of the present age, a respect for the quali- ties of the understanding still prevails to such a degree, that almost every individual pretends to have a Taste for the Belles Lettres. The spruce 'prentice sets up for a critic, and the puny heau piques himself upon being a connoisseur. Without assigning causes for this universal presumption, we shall proceed to observe, that if it was attended with no other inconvenience than that of exposing the pretender to the ridicule of those few, who can sift his pretensions, it might be unnecessary to un- deceive the public, or to endeavour at the refor- mation of innocent folly, productive of no evil to the commonwealth. But in reality this folly is pro- ductive of manifold evils to the community. If the reputation of taste- can be acquired, without the least assistance of literature, by reading modern poems, and seeing modern plays, what person will deny himself the pleasure of such an easy qualifica- tion ? Hence the youth of both sexes are debauched to diversion, and seduced from much more profit- able occupations into idle endeavours after literary fame ; and a superficial false taste, founded on igno- rance and conceit, takes possession of the public. The acquisition of learning, the study of nature, is neglected as superfluous labour ; and the best facul- ties of the mind remain unexercised, and indeed 86 goldsmith's essays. unopened, by the power of thought and reflection. False taste will not only diffuse itself through all our amusements, but even influence our moral and political conduct ; for what is false taste but want of perception to discern propriety, and distinguish beauty ? It has been often alleged, that taste is a natural talent, as independent of art as strong eyes, or a delicate sense of smelling; and without all doubt the principal ingredient in the composition of taste, is a natural sensibility, without which it cannot exist ; but it differs from the senses in this particu- lar, that they are finished by nature ; whereas taste cannot be brought to perfection without proper cul- tivation : for taste pretends to judge not only of na- ture, but also of art ; and that judgment is founded upon observation and comparison. What Horace has said of genius is still more ap- plicable to taste, . Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte, Quaesitum est. Ego nee studium sine divite vena, Nee rude quid prosit video ingenium : alterius sic Altera poscit opem res, et conjurat amice. Hor. Art. Poet. *Tis long disputed, whether poets claim, - From art or nature their best right to fame; But art, if not enrich'd by nature's vein, And a rude genius of uncultured strain, Are useless both ; but when in friendship join'd, A mutual succour in each other find. Francis. We have seen genius shine without the help of art; but taste must be cultivated by art, before it will - ON TASTE. 87 produce agreeable fruit. This, however, we must still inculcate with Quintilian, that study, precept, and observation will naught avail, without the as- sistance of nature. Illud tamen imprimis testandum est, nihil prsecepta at- que artes valere, nisi adjuvante natura. Yet, even though nature has done her part, by implanting the seeds of taste, great pains must be taken, and great skill exerted, in raising them to a proper pitch of vegetation. The judicious tutor must gradually and tenderly unfold the mental fa- culties of the youth committed to his charge. He must cherish his delicate perception ; store his mind with proper ideas ; point out the different channels of observation ; teach him. to compare ob- jects ; to establish the limits of right and wrong, of truth and falsehood; to distinguish beauty from tinsel, and grace from affectation ; in a word, to strengthen and improve by culture, experience, and instruction, those natural powers of feeling and sa- gacity, which constitute the faculty called taste, and enable the professor to enjoy the delights of the belles lettres. We cannot agree in opinion with those, who ima- gine that nature has been equally favourable to all men, in conferring upon them a fundamental capa- city, which may be improved to all the refinement of taste and criticism. Every day's experience con- vinces us of the contrary. Of two youths educated under the same preceptor, instructed with the same care, and cultivated with the same assiduity, one shall not only comprehend, but even anticipate the lessons of his master, by dint of natural discern- 38 goldsmith's essays. ment ; while the other toils in vain to imbibe the least tincture of instruction. Such indeed is the di- stinction between genius and stupidity, which every man has an opportunity of seeing among his friends and acquaintance. Not that we ought too hastily to decide upon the natural capacities of children, before we have maturely considered the peculiarity of disposition, and the bias by which genius may be strangely warped from the common path of edu- cation. A youth, incapable of retaining one rule of grammar, or of acquiring the least knowledge of the classics, may nevertheless make great progress in mathematics ; nay, he may have a strong genius for the mathematics, without being able to com- prehend a demonstration of Euclid ; because his mind conceives in a peculiar manner, and is so in- tent upon contemplating the object in one particular point of view, that it cannot perceive it in any other. We have known an instance of a boy, who while his master complained that he had not capa- city to comprehend the properties of a right-angled triangle, had actually, in private, by the power of his genius, formed a mathematical system of his own, discovered a series of curious theorems, and even applied his deductions to practical machines of surprising construction. Besides, in the educa- tion of youth, we ought to remember that some ca- pacities are like the pyra prcecocia ; they soon blow, and soon attain to all that degree of maturity which they are capable of acquiring ; while, en the other hand, there are geniuses of slow growth, that are late in bursting the bud, and long in ripening. Yet the first shall yield a faint blossom, and insipid fruit ; whereas the produce of-the other shall be ON TASTE. 89 distinguished and admired for its well-concocted juice and exquisite flavour. We have known a boy of five years of age surprise every body by playing on the violin in such a manner as seemed to promise a prodigy in music. He had all the assistance that art could afford ; by the age of ten his genius was at the axjuYj ; yet after that period, notwithstand- ing the most intense application, he never gave the least signs of improvement. At six he was admired as a miracle of music ; at six-and-twenty he was neglected as an ordinary fiddler. The celebrated Dean Swift was a remarkable instance in the other extreme. He was long considered as an incorri- gible dunce, and did not obtain his degree at the uni- versity but ex speciali gratia : yet when his powers began to unfold, he signalized himself by a very remarkable superiority of genius. When a youth therefore appears dull of apprehension, and seems to derive no advantage from study and instruction, the tutor must exercise his sagacity in discovering whether the soil be absolutely barren, or sown with seed repugnant to its nature, or of such a quality as requires repeated culture and length of time to set its juices in fermentation. These observations, however, relate to capacity in general, which we ought carefully to distinguish from taste. Capacity implies the power of retaining what is received ; taste is the power of relishing or rejecting what- ever is offered for the entertainment of the imagi- nation. A man may have capacity to acquire what is called learning and philosophy ; but he must have also sensibility before he feels those emo- tions, with which taste receives the impressions of beauty. 90 goldsmith's essays. Natural taste is apt to be seduced and debauched by vicious precept and bad example. There is a dangerous tinsel in false taste, by which the un- wary mind and young imagination are often fasci- nated. Nothing has been so often explained, and yet so little understood, as simplicity in writing. Simplicity in this acceptation has a larger significa- tion than either the aTrXoov of the Greeks, or the simplex of the Latins ; for it implies beauty. It is the a7rXocy xa; yjSuv of Demetrius Phalereus, the sim- plex mundltiis of Horace, and expressed by one word, naivete, in the French language. It is in fact no other than beautiful nature, without affec- tation or extraneous ornament. In statuary, it is the Venus of Medicis ; in architecture, the Pan- theon. It would be an endless task to enumerate all the instances of this natural simplicity, that oc- cur in poetry and painting among the ancients and moderns. We shall only mention two exam- ples of it, the beauty of which consists in the pa- thetic. Anaxagoras, the philosopher and preceptor of Pericles, being told that both his sons were dead, laid his hand upon his heart, and, after a short pause, consoled himself with a reflection couched in three words, rfieiv Snrwg ytyevi^xc;, " I knew they were mortal." The other instance we select from the tragedy of Macbeth. The gallant Macduff, be- ing informed that his wife and children were mur- dered by order of the tyrant, pulls his hat over his eyes, and his internal agony bursts out into an excla- mation of four words, the most expressive perhaps that ever were uttered ; " He has no children.'* This is the energetic language of simple nature, which is ON TASTE. 91 now grown into disrepute. By the present mode of education we are forcibly warped from the bias of nature, and all simplicity in manners is rejected. We are taught to disguise and distort our sentiments, until the faculty of thinking is diverted into an un- natural channel ; and we not only relinquish and forget, but also become incapable of our original dispositions. We are totally changed into creatures of art and affectation. Our perception is abused, and even our senses are perverted. Our minds lose their native force and flavour. The imagination, sweated by artificial fire, produces naught but va- pid bloom. The genius, instead of growing like a vigorous tree, extending its branches on every side, and bearing delicious fruit, resembles a stunted yew, tortured into some wretched form, projecting no shade, displaying no flower, diffusing no fra- grance, yielding no fruit, and affording nothing but a barren conceit for the amusement of the idle spec- tator. Thus debauched from nature, how can we relish her genuine productions ? As well might a man dis- tinguish objects through a prism, that presents no- thing but a variety of colours to the eye ; or a maid pining in the green sickness prefer a biscuit to a cinder. It has been often alleged that the passions can never be wholly deposited ; and that by appealing to these, a good writer will always be able to force himself into the hearts of his readers ; but even the strongest passions are weakened, nay sometimes totally extinguished, by mutual opposition, dissipa- tion, and acquired insensibility. How often at the theatre is the tear of sympathy and the burst of laughter repressed by a ridiculous species of pride 3 92 goldsmith's essays. refusing approbation to the author and actor, and renouncing society with the audience ? This seeming insensibility is not owing to any original defect. Nature has stretched the string, though it has long ceased to vibrate. It may have been displaced and distracted by the violence of pride ; it may have lost its tone through long disuse ; or be so twisted or overstrained, as to produce the most jarring dis- cords. If so little regard is paid to nature, when she knocks so powerfully at the breast, she must be altogether neglected and despised in her calmer mood of serene tranquillity, when nothing appears to recommend her but simplicity, propriety, and in- nocence. A person must have delicate feelings that can taste the celebrated repartee in Terence : Homo sum; nihil humani a me alienum pato ; <( l am a man ; therefore think I have an interest in every thing that concerns humanity." A clear blue sky, spangled with stars, will prove an insipid object to eyes accustomed to the glare of torches and tapers, gilding and glitter ; eyes, that will turn with disgust from the green mantle of the spring, so gorgeously adorned with buds and foliage, flowers and blos- soms, to contemplate a gaudy silken robe, striped and intersected with unfriendly tints, that fritter the masses of light and distract the vision, pinked into the most fantastic forms, flounced, and furbe- lowed, and fringed with all the littleness of art un- known to elegance. Those ears, that are offended by the notes of the thrush, the blackbird, and the nightingale, will be regaled and ravished by the squeaking fiddle touched by a musician, who has no other genius than that ON TASTE. 93 which lies in his fingers ; they will even be enter- tained with the rattling of coaches, and the alarm- ing knock, by which the doors of fashionable people are so loudly distinguished. The sense of smelling, that delights in the scent of excrementitious animal juices, such as musk, civet, and urinous salts, will loathe the fragrance of new-mown hay, the sweet- brier, the honey- suckle, and the rose. The organs, that are gratified with the taste of sickly veal bled into a palsy, crammed fowls, and dropsical brawn, pease without substance, peaches without taste, and pine-apples without flavour, will certainly nauseate the native, genuine, and salutary taste of Welch beef, Banstead mutton, and barn-door fowls, whose juices are concocted by a natural digestion, and whose flesh is consolidated by free air and exercise. In such a total perversion of the senses, the ideas must be misrepresented, the powers of the imagi- nation disordered, and the judgment of consequence unsound. The disease is attended with a false ap- petite, which the natural food of the mind will not satisfy. It will prefer Ovid to Tibullus, and the rant of Lee to the tenderness of Otway. The soul sinks into a kind of sleepy idiotism ; and is di- verted by toys and baubles, which can only be pleasing to the most superficial curiosity. It is en- livened by a quick succession of trivial objects, that glisten and dance before the eye ; and, like an in- fant, is kept awake and inspirited by the sound of a rattle. It must not only be dazzled and aroused, but also cheated, hurried, and perplexed by the artifice of deception, business, intricacy, ; and in- trigue ; a kind of low juggle, which may be termed the legerdemain of genius. 94 goldsmith's essays. In this state of depravity the mind cannot enjoy, nor indeed distinguish the charms of natural and moral beauty and decorum. The ingenuous blush of native innocence, the plain language of ancient faith and sincerity, the cheerful resignation to the will of Heaven, the mutual affection of the chari- ties, the voluntary respect paid to superior dignity or station, the virtue of beneficence, extended even to the brute creation, nay, the very crimson glow ' of health and swelling lines of beauty, are despised, detested, scorned, and ridiculed, as ignorance, rudeness, rusticity, and superstition. Thus we see how moral and natural beauty are connected ; and of what importance it is, even to the formation of taste, that the manners should be severely super- intended. This is a task which ought to take the lead of science ; for we will venture to say,. that vir- tue is the foundation of taste ; or rather, that virtue and taste are built upon the same foundation of sensibility, and cannot be disjoined without offering violence to both. But virtue must be informed, and taste instructed, otherwise they will both re- main imperfect and ineffectual. Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis, Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus, et hospes, Quod sit Conscripti, quod judicis officium, quae Partes in bellurn missi ducis ; ille profecto Reddere persona? scit convenientia cuique. The critic, who with nice discernment knows What to his country and his friends he owes ; How various nature warms the human breast, To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest ; ' What the great functions of our judges are, Of senators, and generals sent to war ; CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 95 He can distinguish, with unerring art, The strokes peculiar to each different part. Hor. Thus we see taste is composed of nature improved by art : of feeling tutored by instruction. XIII. CULTIVATION OF TASTE. Having explained what we conceive to be true '" taste, and in some measure accounted for the pre- valence of vitiated taste, we should proceed to point out the most effectual manner in which a natural capacity may be improved into a delicacy of judg- ment, and an intimate acquaintance with the belles lettres. We shall take it for granted, that proper means have been used to form the manners, and attach the mind to virtue. The heart, cultivated by precept, and warmed by example, improves in sen- sibility, which is the foundation of taste. By di- stinguishing the influence and scope of morality, and cherishing the ideas of benevolence, it acquires a habit of sympathy, which tenderly feels responsive, like the vibration of unisons, every touch of moral beauty. Hence it is that a man of a social heart, en- tendered by the practice of virtue, is awakened to the most pathetic emotions by every uncommon instance of generosity, compassion, and greatness of soul. Is there any man so dead to sentiment, so lost to humanity, as to read unmoved the generous behaviour of the Romans to the states of Greece, 96 goldsmith's essays. as it is recounted by Livy, or embellished by Thom- son, in his Pcem of Liberty ? Speaking of Greece in the decline of her power, when her freedom no longer existed, he says ; As at her Isthmian games, a fading pomp ! Her full assembled youth innumerous swarm'd, On a tribunal raised Flaminius * sat : A victor he from the deep phalanx pierced Of iron-coated Macedon, and back The Grecian tyrant to his bounds repell'd. - In the high thoughtless gaiety of game, While sport alone their unambitious hearts Possess' d ; the sudden trumpet, sounding hoarse, Bade silence o'er the bright assembly reign. Then thus a herald — " to the states of Greece The Roman people, unconfined, restore Their countries, cities, liberties, and laws ; Taxes remit, and garrisons withdraw." The crowd, astonish'd half, and half inform'd, Stared dubious round; some question'd, some exclaim'd, (Like one who dreaming, between hope and fear, Is lost in anxious joy) " Be that again — Be that again proclaim'd distinct and loud!" , Loud and distinct it was again proclaim'd ; And still as midnight in the rural shade, When the gale slumbers, they the words devour'd. " Awhile severe amazement held them mute, Then bursting broad, the boundless shout to heaven From many a thousand hearts ecstatic sprung ! On every hand rebellow'd to them joy ; The swelling sea, the rocks, and vocal hills — — Like Bacchanals they flew, Each other straining in a strict embrace, Nor strain' d a slave ; and loud acclaims till night, Round the proconsul's tent repeated rung. To one aquainted with the genius of Greece, the * His real name was Quintus Flaminius. CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 97 character and disposition of that polished people, admired for science, renowned for an unextinguish- able love of freedom ; nothing can be more affecting than this instance of generous magnanimity of the Roman people, in restoring them unasked to the full fruition of those liberties which they had so unfortunately lost. The mind of sensibility is equally struck by the generous confidence of Alexander, who drinks with- out hesitation the potion presented by his physician, Philip, even after he had received intimation that poison was contained in the cup ; a noble and pa- thetic scene ! which hath acquired new dignity and expression under the inimitable pencil of La Sueur. Humanity is melted into tears of tender admiration by the deportment of Henry [V. of France, while his rebellious subjects compelled him to form the. blockade of his capital. In chastising his enemies, he could not but remember they were his people ; and knowing they were reduced to the extremity of famine, he generously connived at the methods prac- tised to supply them with provision. Chancing one day to meet two peasants, who had been detected in these practices, as they were led to execution they implored his clemency, declaring in the sight of Heaven, they had no other way to procure sub- sistence for their wives and children. He par- doned them on the spot, and giving them all the money that was in his purse, " Henry of Bearne is poor (said he) ; had he more money to afford, you should have it — go home to your families in peace; and remember your duty to God, and your alle- giance to your sovereign." Innumerable examples of the same kind may be selected from history, both 98 goldsmith's essays. ancient and modern, the study of which we would therefore strenuously recommend. Historical knowledge indeed becomes necessary on many other accounts, which in its place we will explain : but as the formation of the heart is of the first consequence, and should precede the cultiva- tion of the understanding, such striking instances of superior virtue ought to be culled for the perusal of the young pupil, who will read them with eager- ness, and revolve them with pleasure. Thus the young mind becomes enamoured of moral beauty, and the passions are listed on the side of humanity. Meanwhile knowledge of a different species will go hand in hand with the advances of morality, and the understanding be gradually extended. Virtue and sentiment reciprocally assist each other, and both conduce to the improvement of perception. While the scholar's chief attention is employed in learning the Latin and Greek languages, and this is generally the task of childhood and early youth, it is even then the business of the preceptor to give his mind a turn for observation, to direct his powers of dis- cernment, to point out the distinguishing marks of character, and dwell upon the charms of moral and intellectual beauty, as they may chance to occur in the classics that are used for his instruction. In reading Cornelius Nepos and Plutarch's Lives, even with a view to grammatical improvement only, he will insensibly imbibe and learn to compare ideas of greater importance. He will become enamoured of virtue and patriotism, and acquire a detestation for vice, cruelty, and corruption. The perusal of the Roman story in the works of Florus, Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus, will irresistibly engage his atten- CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 99 tion, expand his conception, cherish his memory, exercise his judgment, and warm him with a noble spirit of emulation. He will contemplate with love and admiration the disinterested candour of Aris- tides, surnamed the Just, whom the guilty cabals of his rival Themistocles exiled, from his ungrateful country by a sentence of ostracism. He will be surprised to learn, that one of his fellow T -citizens, an illiterate artisan, bribed by his enemies, chancing to meet him in the street without knowing his per- son, desired he would write Aristides on his shell, (which was the method those plebeians used to vote against delinquents), when the innocent patriot wrote his own name without complaint or expostu- lation. He will, with equal astonishment, applaud the inflexible integrity of Fabricius, who preferred the poverty of innocence to all the pomp of af- fluence, with which Fyrrhus endeavoured to seduce him from the arms of his country. He will ap- prove with transport the noble generosity of his soul in rejecting the proposal of that prince's physi- cian, who offered to take him off by poison ; and in sending the caitiff bound to his sovereign, whom he would have so basely and cruelly betrayed. In reading the ancient authors, even for the pur- poses of school education, the unformed taste will begin to relish the irresistible energy, greatness, and sublimity of Homer ; the serene majesty, the melody, and pathos of Virgil; the tenderness of Sappho and Tibullus; the elegance and propriety of Terence ; the grace, vivacity, satire, and senti- „ ment of Horace. Nothing will more conduce to the improvement of the scholar in his knowledge of the languages, as 100 goldsmith's essays. well as in taste and morality, than his being obliged to translate choice parts and passages of the most approved classics, both poetry and prose, especially the latter; such as the orations of Demosthenes and Isocrates, the Treatise of Longinus on the Sublime, the Commentaries of Caesar, the Epistles of Cicero and the Younger Pliny, and the two celebrated speeches in the Catilinarian conspiracy by Sallust. By this practice he will become more intimate with the beauties of the writing and the idioms of the language from which he translates ; at the same time it will form his style, and by exercising his ta- lent of expression, make him a more perfect master of his mother tongue. Cicero tells us, that in trans- lating two orations, which the most celebrated ora- tors of Greece pronounced against each other, he performed this task, not as a servile interpreter, buf as an orator, preserving the sentiments, forms, and figures of the original, but adapting the expression to the taste and manners of the Romans. — " In qui- bus non verbum pro verbo necesse habui reddere, sed genus omnium verborum vim que servavi ;" " in which I did not think it was necessary to translate literally word for word, but I preserved the natural and full scope of the whole." Of the same opinion was Horace, who says in his Art of Poetry, Nee verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus Interpres: Nor word for word translate with painful care Nevertheless, in taking the liberty here granted, we are apt to run into the other extreme, and substitute equivalent thoughts and phrases, till hardly any CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 101 features of the original remain. The metaphors of figures, especially in poetry, ought to be as reli- giously preserved as the images of painting, which we cannot alter or exchange without destroying, or injuring, at least, the character and style of the original. In this manner the preceptor will sow the seeds of that taste, which will soon germinate, rise, blos- som, and produce perfect fruit by dint of future care and cultivation. In order to restrain the luxuriancy of the young imagination, which is apt to run riot, to enlarge the stock of ideas, exercise the reason, and ripen the judgment, the pupil must be engaged in the severer study of science. He must learn geometry, which Plato recommends for strengthening the mind, and enabling it to think with precision. He must be made acquainted with geography and chronology, and trace philosophy through all her branches. Without geography and chronology he will not be able to acquire a distinct idea of history ; nor judge of the propriety of many interesting scenes, and a thousand allusions, that present themselves in the works of genius. Nothing opens the mind so much as the researches of phi- losophy ; they inspire us with sublime conceptions of the Creator, and subject, as it were, all nature to our command. These bestow that liberal turn of thinking, and in a great measure contribute to that universality in learning, by which a man of taste ought to be eminently distinguished. But history is the inexhaustible source from which he will de- rive his most useful knowledge respecting the pro- gress of the human mind, the constitution of go- 102 goldsmith's essays. vernment, the rise and decline of empires, the revolution of arts, the variety of character, and the vicissitudes of fortune. The knowledge of history enables the poet not only to paint characters, but also to describe mag- nificent and interesting scenes of battle and adven- ture. Not that the poet or painter ought to be re- strained to the letter of historical truth. History represents what has really happened in nature ; the other arts exhibit what might have happened, with such exaggeration of circumstance and feature as may be deemed an improvement on nature : but this exaggeration must not be carried beyond the bounds of probability : and these, generally speak- ing, the knowledge of history will ascertain. It would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to find a man actually existing, whose proportions should answer to those of the Greek statue, distin- guished by the name of the Apollo of Belvedere ; or to produce a woman similar in proportion of parts to the other celebrated piece, called the Venus de Medicis ; therefore it may be truly affirmed, that they are not conformable to the real standard of nature : nevertheless, every artist will own that they are the very archetypes of grace, elegance, and symmetry; and every judging eye must behold them with admiration, as improvements on the lines and lineaments of nature. The truth is, the sculptor,or statuary composed the various proportions in nature from a great number of different subjects, ever}' individual of which he found imperfect or defective in some one particular, though beautiful in all the rest ) and from these observations, corroborated by CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 103 taste and judgment, he formed an ideal pattern, according to which his idea was modelled, and pro- duced in execution. Every body knows the story of Zeuxis, the fa- mous painter of Heraciea, who, according to Pliny, invented the chiaro oscuro, or disposition of light and shade, among the ancients, and excelled all his contemporaries in the chromatique, or art of colour- ing. This great artist being employed to draw a perfect beauty, in the character of Helen, to be placed in the Temple of Juno, culled out five of the most beautiful damsels the city could produce, and selecting what was excellent in each, combined them in one picture according to the predisposition of his fancy, so that it shone forth an amazing mo- del of perfection.* In like manner, every man of genius, regulated by true taste, entertains in his imagination an ideal beauty, conceived and culti- vated as an improvement upon nature : and this we refer to the article of invention. It is the business of art to imitate nature, but not with a servile pencil ; and to choose those attitudes and dispositions only, which are beautiful and en- gaging. With this view we must avoid all disagree- able prospects of nature, which excite the ideas of abhorrence and disgust. For example, a painter * Praebete igitur niihi quaeso, -inquit, existis virginibus for- mosissimas, dum pingo id, quod pollicitus sum vobis, ut rautura in simulacrum ex animali exemplo Veritas transfe- ratur. — Ille autem quinque delegit. — Neque enim putavit omnia, quae quaereret ad venustatem, uno in corpore se re- perire posse ; ideo quod nihil simplici in genere omnibus ex partibus perfectum natura expolivit. Cic. Lib. 2. de Inv- cap. 1. 104 goldsmith's essays. would not find his account in exhibiting the resem- blance of a dead carcass, half consumed by vermin, or of swine wallowing in ordure, or of a beggar lousing himself on a dunghill, though these scenes should be painted never so naturally, and all the w T orld must allow that the scenes were taken from nature, because the merit of the imitation would be greatly over-balanced by the vile choice of the artist. There are, nevertheless, many scenes of horror, which please in the representation, from a certain interesting greatness, which we shall endeavour to explain when we come to consider the sublime. Were w T e to judge every production by the ri- gorous rules of nature, we should reject the Iliad of Homer, the ^Eneid of Virgil, and every celebrated tragedy of antiquity and the present times, because there is no such thing in nature as an Hector or Turnus talking in hexameter, or an Othello in blank verse : we should condemn the Hercules of Sopho- cles, and the Miser of Moliere, because w r e never knew a hero so strong as the one, or a wretch so sordid as the other. But if we consider poetry as an elevation of natural dialogue, as a delightful vehicle for conveying the noblest sentiments of he- roism and patriot virtue, to regale the sense with the sounds of musical expression, while the fancy is ravished with enchanting images, and the heart warmed to rapture and ecstasy, we must allow that poetry is a perfection to which nature would gladly aspire ; and that though it surpasses, it does not deviate from her> provided the characters are mark- ed with propriety and sustained with genius. Cha- racters, therefore, both in poetry and painting, may be a little overcharged or exaggerated, without offer- CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 105 ing violence to nature; nay, they must be exaggera- ted in order to be striking, and to preserve the idea of imitation, whence the reader and spectator de- rive in many instances their chief delight, If we meet a common acquaintance in the street, we see him without emotion ; but should we chance to spy his portrait well executed, we are struck with plea- sing admiration. In this case the pleasure arises entirely from the imitation. We every day hear unmoved the natives of Ireland and Scotland speak- ing their own dialects ; but should an Englishman mimic either, we are apt to burst out into a loud laugh of applause, being surprised and tickled by the imita- tion alone, though at the same time we cannot but allow that the imitation is imperfect. We are more affected by reading Shakspeare's description of Dover Cliff, and Ot way's picture of the Old Hag, than we should be were we actually placed on the summit of the one, or met in reality with such a bel- dame as the other, because in reading these descrip- tions we refer to our own experience, and perceive with surprise the justness of the imitations. But if it is so close as to be mistaken for nature, the plea- sure then will cease, because the ^i/xria-ig, or imita- tion, no longer appears. Aristotle says, that all poetry and music is imita- tion,* whether epic, tragic, or comic, whether vocal or instrumental, from the pipe or the lyre. He ob- serves, that in man there is a propensity to imitate * 'E7ro7roiij rrig TpotywSiug 7roiYja-ig 9 £Ti §e xoifxu&ict. xou >j S^upa^OTro^jT/xyj, xou rr t g otvhil 'ixr) g n 7rXsio-Tr} xou xiQotpta'Tt}iy}g > 7rcta'txi aToyy^uvouatv ouca* {Mjuriz ug to j, a poem. To this origin Horace alludes in these lines : Dicitur et plaustris vexisse poemata Thespis Qua? eanerent agerentque peruncti fsecibus ora. Thespis, inventor of dramatic art, Convey'd his vagrant actors in a cart : High o'er the crowd the mimic tribe appear'd, And play'd and sung, with lees of wine besmear'd. Thespis is called the inventor of the dramatic art, because he raised the subject from clownish altercation to the character and exploits of some hero: he improved the language and versification, and relieved the chorus by the dialogue of two quorum carere, sed etiam tribu rnoveri notatione censoria voluerunt. Cic. apud S, Aug, de Civit. Dei. 116 goldsmith's essays. actors. This was the first advance towards that consummation of genius and art, which constitutes what is now called a perfect tragedy. The next great improver was iEschylus, of whom the same critic says, Post hunc person* palteeque repertor honestse ^Eschylus, et modicis instravit pulpita tignis ; Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno. Then iEschylus a decent vizard used ; Built a low stage ; the flowing robe diffused : In language more sublime two actors rage, And in the graceful buskin tread the stage. The dialogue which Thespis introduced, was called the episode, because it was an addition to the former subject, namely, the praises of Bacchus ; so that now tragedy consisted of two distinct parts, independent of each other; the old recitative, which was the chorus, sung in honour of the gods ; and the episode, which turned upon the adventures of some hero. This episode being found very agree- able to the people, zEschylus, who lived about half a century after Thespis, still improved the drama, united the chorus to the episode, so as to make them both parts or members of one fable, multiplied the actors, contrived the stage, and in- troduced the decorations of the theatre ; so that Sophocles, who succeeded iEschylus, had but one step to surmount, in order to bring the drama to perfection. Thus tragedy was gradually detached from its original institution, which was entirely re- ligious. The priests of Bacchus loudly complained of this innovation by means of the episode, which ORIGIN OF POETRY. 117 was foreign to the intention of the chorus; and hence arose the proverb of Nihil ad Dionysium, " nothing to the purpose." Plutarch himself men- tions the episode as a perversion of tragedy, from the honour of the gods to the passions of men : but, notwithstanding all opposition, the new tragedy succeeded to admiration ; because it was found the most pleasing vehicle of conveying moral truths, of meliorating the heart, and extending the interests of humanity. Comedy, according to Aristotle, is the younger sister of Tragedy. As the first originally turned upon the praises of the gods, the latter dwelt on the follies and vices of mankind. Such, we mean, was the scope of that species of poetry which ac- quired the name of comedy, in contradiction to the tragic muse : for in the beginning they were the same. The foundation, upon which comedy was built, we have already explained "to be the practice of satirical repartee or altercation, in which indi- viduals exposed the follies and frailties of each other, on public occasions of worship and festivity. The first regular plan of comedy is said to have been the margites of Homer, exposing the idleness and folly of a worthless character: but of this performance we have no remains. That division, which is termed the ancient comedy, belongs to the labours of Eupolis, Cratinus, and Aristophanes, who were contemporaries, and flourished at Athens about four hundred and thirty years before the Christian era. Such was the licence of the muse at this period, that, far from lashing vice in ge- neral characters, she boldly exhibited the exact portrait of every individual, who had rendered 1 18 goldsmith's essays. himself remarkable or notorious by his crimes, folly, or debauchery. She assumed every circum- stance of his external appearance, his very attire, air, manner, and even 4ns name : according to the observation of Horace. -Poetse -quorum comoedia prisca virorum est : Si quis erat dignus describi, quod malus, aut fur. Quod mcEchus foret, aut sicarius, aut alioqui Famosus, multa cum libertate notabant. The comic poets, in its earliest age, Who form'd the manners of the Grecian stage— Was there a villain who might justly claim A better right of being damn'd to fame, Rake, cut-throat, thief, whatever was his crime, They boldly stigmatised the wretch in rhyme. Eupolis is said to have satirized iVlcibiades in tfeis manner, and to have fallen a sacrifice to the resent- ment of that powerful Athenian : but others say he was drowned in' the Hellespont, during a w T ar against the Lacedemonians; and that, in conse- quence of this accident, the Athenians passed a decree, that no poet should ever bear arms. The comedies of Cratinus are recommended by Quintilian for their eloquence ; and Plutarch tells us, that even Pericles himself could not escape the censure of this poet. Aristophanes, of whom there are eleven come- dies still extant, enjoyed such a pre-eminence of reputation, that the Athenians by a public decree honoured him with a crown made of a consecrated olive-tree, which grew in the citadel, for his care and success in detecting and exposing the vices ORIGIN OF POETRY. 119 of those who governed the commonwealth. Yet this poet, whether impelled by mere wantonness of genius, or actuated by malice and envy, could not refrain from employing the shafts of his ridicule against Socrates, the most venerable character of Pagan antiquity. In the comedy of the Clouds, this virtuous philosopher was exhibited on the stage under his own name, in a cloak exactly resembling that which Socrates wore, in a mask modelled from his features, disputing publicly on the nature of right and wrong. This was undoubtedly an instance of the most flagrant licentiousness ; and what ren- ders it the more extraordinary, the audience re- ceived it with great applause, even while Socrates himself sat publicly in the theatre. The truth is, the Athenians were so fond of ridicule, that they relished it even when employed against the gods themselves, some of whose characters were very roughly handled by Aristophanes and his rivals in reputation. We might here draw a parallel between the hu habitants of Athens and the natives of England, in point of constitution, genius, and disposition. Athens was a free state like England, that piqued itself upon the influence of the democracy. Like England, its wealth and strength depended upon its maritime power, and it generally acted as um- pire in the disputes that arose among its neighbours. The people of Athens, like those of England, were remarkably ingenious, and made great progress in the arts and sciences. They excelled in poetry, history, philosophy, mechanics, and manufactures ; they were acute, discerning, disputatious, fickle, 120 goldsmith's essays. wavering, rash, and combustible, and, above all other nations in Europe, addicted to ridicule ; a character which the English inherit in a vei y re- markable degree. If we may judge from the writings of Aristo- phanes, his chief aim was to gratify the spleen and excite the mirth/ of his audience ; of an audience too, that would seem to have been uninformed by taste, and altogether ignorant of decorum ; for his pieces are replete wwith the most extravagant ab- surdities, virulent slander, impiety, impurities, and low buffoonery. The comic muse, not contented with being allowed to make free with the gods and philosophers, applied her scourge so severely to the magistrates of the commonwealth, that it was thought proper to restrain her within bounds by a law, enacting that no person should be stigmatised under his real name ; and thus the chorus was si- lenced. In order to elude the penalty of this law, and gratify the taste of the people, the poets began to substitute fictitious names, under which they ex- hibited particular characters in such lively colours, that the resemblance could not possibly be mistaken or overlooked. This practice gave rise to what is called the middle comedy, which was but of short duration: for the legislature, perceiving thut the first law had not removed the grievance against which it was provided, issued a second ordinance, forbidding, under severe penalties, any real or fa- mily occurrences to be represented. This restric- tion was the immediate cause of improving comedy into a general mirror, held forth to reflect the va- rious follies and foibles incident to human nature; POETRY DISTINGUISHED, &C. 121 a species of writing called the new comedy, intro- duced by Diphilus and Menander, of whose works nothing but a few fragments remain. XV. POETRY DISTINGUISHED FROM OTHER WRITING. Having communicated our sentiments touching the origin of poetry, by tracing tragedy and comedy to their common source, we shall now endeavour to point out the criteria, by which poetry is distin- guished from every other species of writing. In common with other arts, such as statuary and paint- ing, it comprehends imitation, invention, composi- tion, and enthusiasm. Imitation is indeed the basis of all the liberal arts : invention and enthusiasm constitute genius, in whatever manner it may be displayed. Eloquence of all sorts admits of enthu- siasm. Tully says, an orator should be " vehemens ut procella, excitatus ut torrens, incensus ut ful- men ; tonat, fulgurat, et rapidis eloquential flucti- bus cuncta proruit et proturbat." i( Violent as a tempest, impetuous as a torrent, and glowing in- tense like the red bolt of heaven, he thunders, lightens, overthrows, and bears down all before him, by the irresistible tide of eloquence." This is the " mens divinior at que os magna sonaturum" of Horace. This is the talent, — — — ileum qui pectus inaniter angit, Irritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet, Ut magus. With passions not my own who fires my heart ; Who with unreal terrors fills my breast, As with a magic influence possess'd. 122 goldsmith's essays. We are told, that Michael Angelo Buonaroti used to work at his statues in a fit of enthusiasm, during which he made the fragments of the stone fly about him with surprising violence. The celebrated Lully being one day blamed for setting nothing to music but the languid verses of Quiuault, was animated with the reproach, and running in a fit of enthusiasm to his harpsichord, sung in recitative, and accom- panied four pathetic lines from the Iphigenia of Racine with such expression, as filled the hearers with astonishment and horror. Though versification be one of the criteria that distinguish poetry from prose, yet it is not the sole mark of distinction. Were the histories of Polybius and Livy simply turned into verse, they would not become poems : because they would be destitute of those figures, embellishments, and flights of imagi- nation, which display the poet's art and invention. On the other hand, we have many productions that justly lay claim to the title of poetry, without having the advantage of versification ; witness the Psalms of David, the Song of Solomon, with many beautiful hymns, descriptions, and rhapsodies, to be found in different parts of the Old Testament ; some of them the immediate productions of divine inspiration : witness the Celtic fragments, which have lately appeared in the English language, and are certainly replete with poetical merit. But though good versification alone will not constitute poetry, bad versification alone will certainly de- grade and render disgustful the sublimest senti- ments and finest flowers of imagination. This hu- miliating power of bad verse appears in many trans- lations of the ancient poets ; in Ogilby's Homer, POETRY DISTINGUISHED, &C. 123 Trapp's Virgil, and frequently in Creech's Horace. This last indeed is not wholly devoid of spirit, but it seldom rises above mediocrity* and as Horace says, Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non Di, non concessere columnar. But God and man and letter'd post denies That poets ever are of middling size. How is that beautiful ode, beginning with " Justum et tenacem propositi virum," chilled and tamed by the following translation : He who by principle is sway'd, In truth and justice still the same, Is neither of the crowd afraid, Though civil broils the state inflame ; Nor to a haughty tyrant's frown will stoop, Nor to a raging storm, when all the winds are up. Should nature with convulsions shake, Struck with the fiery bolts of Jove, The final doom and dreadful crack Cannot his constant courage move. That long Alexandrine — " Nor to a raging storm, when all the winds are up," is drawling, feeble, swoln with a pleonasm or tautology, as well as de- ficient in the rhyme ; and as for " the dreadful crack" in the next stanza, instead of exciting ter- ror, it conveys a low and ludicrous idea. How much more elegant and energetic is this paraphrase of the same ode, inserted in one of the volumes of Hume's History of England : The man whose mind, on virtue bent, Pursues some greatly good intent With undiverted aim, 124 goldsmith's essays. Serene beholds the angry crowd ; Nor can their clamours fierce and loud His stubborn honour tame. Nor the proud tyrant's fiercest threat, Nor storms that from their dark retreat The lawless surges wake : Nor Jove's dread bolt that shakes the pole The firmer purpose of his soul With all its power can shake. Should Nature's frame in ruins fall, And Chaos o'er the sinking ball Resume primeval sway, His courage Chance and Fate defies, Nor feels the wreck of earth and skies Obstruct its destined way. If poetry exists independent of versification, it will naturally be asked, how then is it to be distin- guished ? Undoubtedly by its own peculiar expres- sion : it has a language of its own, which speaks so feelingly to the heart, and so pleasingly to the ima- gination, that its meaning cannot possibly be mis- understood by any person of delicate sensations. It is a species of painting with words, in which the figures are happily conceived, ingeniously arranged, affectingly expressed, and recommended with all the warmth and harmony of colouring : it consists of imagery, description, metaphors, similes, and sentiments, adapted with propriety to the subject, so contrived and executed as to soothe the ear, sur- prise and delight the fancy, mend and melt the heart, elevate the mind, and please the understand- ing. According to Flaccus : Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare poetae ; Aut simul et jueunda et idonea dicere vitse. POETRY DISTINGUISHED, &C. 125 Poets would profit or delight mankind, And with the amusing show the instructive join'd. Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo. Profit and pleasure mingled thus with art To soothe the fancy and improve the heart. Tropes and figures are likewise liberally used in rhetoric : and some of the most celebrated orators have owned themselves much indebted to the poets. Theophrastus expressly recommends the poet for this purpose. From their source the spirit and energy, the pathetic, the sublime, and the beautiful, are derived.* But these figures must be more spa- ringly used in rhetoric than in poetry, and even then mingled with argumentation, and a detail of facts altogether different from poetical narration. The poet, instead of simply relating the incident, strikes off a glowing picture of the scene, and ex- hibits it in the most lively colours to the eye of the imagination. " It is reported that Homer was blind," says Tully in his Tusculan Questions, " yet his poetry is no other than painting. What coun- try, what climate, what ideas, battles, commotions, and contests of men, as well as of wild beasts, has he not painted in such a manner as to bring before our eyes those very scenes, which he himself could not behold !"f We cannot therefore subscribe to * Namque ab his (scilicet poetis) et in rebus spiritus, et in verbis sublimitas, et in affectibus motus omnis, et in personis decor petitur. Quintilian, 1. x. t Qua? regio, qua? ora, qua? species forma?, qua? pugna, qui malus hominum, qui ferarum, non ita expictus est, ut quas ipse non viderit, nos ut videremus, effecerit ! 126 goldsmith's essays. the opinion of some ingenious critics, who have blamed Mr. Pope for deviating in some instances from the simplicity of Homer, in his translation of the Iliad and Odyssey. For example, the Grecian bard says simply, the sun rose ; and his translator gives us a beautiful picture of the sun rising. Homer mentions a person who played upon the lyre ; the translator sets him before us warbling to the silver strings. If this be a deviation, it is at the same time an improvement. Homer himself,- as Cicero observes above, is full of this kind of painting, and particularly fond of description even in situations where the action seems to require haste. Neptune, observing from Samothrace the discomfiture of the Grecians before Troy, flies to their assistance, and might have been wafted thi- ther in half a line ; but the bard describes him, first, descending the mountain on which he sat ; secondly,. striding towards his palace at ^Egae, and yoking his horses ; thirdly, he describes Jiini putting on his armour ; and lastly, ascending his car, and driving along the surface of the sea. Far from being disgusted by these delays, we are delighted with the particulars of the description. Nothing can be more sublime than the circumstance of the mountain's trembling beneath the ^footsteps of an immortal : Tpejue V ovpsoL juaxptx 'aolivKyj YIqccw lift aSavaroiiTi Yloasidawvos iovtc;. But his passage to the Grecian fleet is altogether transporting. B>7$' sXa«i/ ?7n xv[j.xt\ &e. POETRY DISTINGUISHED, &C. 127 He mounts the car, the golden scourge applies, He sits superior, and the chariot flies ; His whirling wheels the glassy surface sweep : The enormous monsters, rolling o'er the deep, Gambol around him on the watery way, And heavy whales in awkward measures play; The sea subsiding spreads a level plain, Exults and crowns the monarch of the main; The parting waves before his coursers fly ; The wandering waters leave his axle dry. With great veneration for the memory of Mr. Pope, we cannot help objecting to some lines of this translation. We have no idea of the sea's ex- ulting and crowning Neptune, after it had subsided into a level plain. There is no such image in the original. Homer says, the whales exulted, and knew or owned their king ; and that the sea parted with joy ; yrjSocrvvYi §6 ^olKolo-uo. ZuaToi.ro. Neither is there a word of the wandering waters; we therefore think the lines might be thus altered to advantage : They knew and own'd the monarch of the main; The sea subsiding spreads a level plain; The curling waves before his coursers fly : The parting surface leaves his brazen axle dry. Besides the metaphors, similes, and allusions of poetry, there is an infinite variety of tropes or turns of expression, occasionally disseminated through works of genius, which serve to animate the whole, and distinguish the glowing effusions of real inspi- ration from the cold efforts of mere science. These tropes consist of a certain happy choice and ar- rangement of words, by which ideas are artfully disclosed in a great variety of attitudes 5 of epi- 128 goldsmith's essays. thets, and compound epithets ; of sounds collected in order to echo the sense conveyed; of apo- strophes ; and above all, the enchanting use of the prosopopoeia, which is a kind of magic, by which the poet gives life and motion to every inanimate part of nature. Homer, describing the wrath of Agamemnon, in the first book of the Iliad, strikes off a glowing image in two words : ■Og-g-S §' o; 7TVpi "k0CfX7rST0VVTl SlXTT t V. — And from his eye-balls flashed the living fire. This indeed is a figure, which has been copied by Virgil, and almost all the poets of every age — oculis mi cat acribus ignis — ignescunt irae: duris dolor ossibus ardet. Milton, describing Satan in hell, says, With head uplift above the wave, and eye That sparkling blazed ! — — He spake : and to confirm his words outflew Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty cherubims . The sudden blaze . Far round illumined hell— ■ There are certain words in every language parti- cularly adapted to the poetical expression; some from the image or idea they convey to the imagina- tion, and some from the effect they have upon the ear. The first are truly figurative ; the others may be called emphatical. — Rollin observes, that V r irgil has upon many occasions poetized (if we may be allowed the expression) a whole sentence by means of the same word, which is pendere. Ite meae, felix quondam pecus, ite capellae. Non ego vos posthac, viridi projeetus in antro, Dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo. POETRY DISTINGUISHED, &C. 129 At ease reclined beneath the verdant shade, No more shall I behold my happy flock Aloft hang browsing on the tufted rock. Here the word pendere wonderfully improves the landscape, and renders the whole passage beauti- fully picturesque. The same figurative verb we meet with in many different parts of the iEneid. Hi summo in fluctu pendent, his unda dehiscens Terrain inter fluctus aperit. These on the mountain billow hung; to those The yawning waves the yellow sand disclose. In this instance, the words pendent and dehiscens, hung and yawning, are equally poetical. Addison seems to have had this passage in his eye, when he wrote his hymn, which is inserted in the Spec- tator, — For though in dreadful worlds we hung. High on the broken wave. And in another piece of a like nature, in the same collection : Thy Providence my life sustain'd, And all my wants redress'd, When in the silent womb I lay, And hung upon the breast. Shakspeare, in his admired description of Dover cliff, uses the same expression : » half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade ! G 2 130 goldsmith's essays. Nothing can be more beautiful than the following picture, in which Milton has introduced the same expressive tint : - he, on his side Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamour' d We shall give one example more from Virgil, to show in what a variety of scenes it may appear with propriety and effect. In describing the progress of Dido's passion for iEneas, the poet says, Iliacos iterum demens audire labores Exposeit, pendetque iterum narrantis ab ore. The woes of Troy once more she begg'd to hear ; Once more the mournful tale employ'd his tongue, While in fond rapture on his lips she hung. The reader w T ill perceive in all these instances that no other word could be substituted with equal energy ; indeed no other word could be used with- out degrading the sense, and defacing the image. There are many other verbs of poetical import fetched from nature, and from art, which the poet uses to advantage both in a literal and metaphorical sense ; and these have been always translated for the same purpose from one language to another ; such as quasso, conditio, cio, suscito, lento, scevio, mano, fluo, ardeo, mico, aro, to shake, to wake, to rouse, to soothe, to rage, to flow, to shine or blaze, to plough. — Quassantia tectum limina JEneas, cam concussus acerbo — JEre ciere vivos, Martemque ac- cendere cantu — Mneas acuit Mart em et se suscitat ird — Impium lenite clamor em. Lenibant cur as — Ne POETRY DISTINGUISHED, &C. 131 saevi magna sacerdos — Sudor ad imos manabat solos — Suspensceque diu lacrymos fluxere per or a — Juve- nali ardebat amore — Micat cereus ensis — Nullum maris cequor arandum. It will be unnecessary to insert examples of the same nature from the English poets. The words we term emphatical, are such as by their sound express the sense they are intended to convey ; and with these the Greek abounds, above all other languages, not only from its natural co- piousness, flexibility, and significance, but also from the variety of its dialects, which enables a writer to vary his terminations occasionally as the nature of the subject requires, without offending the most de- licate ear, or incurring the imputation of adopting vulgar provincial expressions. Every smatterer in Greek can repeat Br} 8' ocxewv 7rotpa Siva. itoXvQpot)7T0l, jv o" eXevQepiay, xxt to ///jSsva s%e), Xsvacoov snti o*vo7ra 7C0VT0v y Toe-^ov £7riQp(*>crxov7 /xeyaX^ S7rt cwfxoLTi xvpact^ TLvpcw r) eAacpov xepaov, r\ ocyptoy a