'Tis true, the ancients had left us models in every kind of writing, which are highly worthy of admiration. But befides that they were wrote in languages, which were known only to the learned; befides this, I fay, the comparison is not fo perfect nor intire between modern wits, and thofe who lived in fo remote an age. Had WALLER been born in ROME, during the reign of TIBERIUS, his first productions had been defpifed, when compared to the finished odes of HORACE. But in this ifland the fuperiority of the ROMAN poet diminished nothing from the fame of the ENGLISH. We esteemed ourselves fufficiently happy, that our climate and language could produce but a faint copy of fo excellent an original. IN fhort, the arts and fciences, like fome plants, require a fresh foil; and however rich the land may be, and however you may recruit it by art or care, it will never, when once exhaufted, produce any thing that is perfect or finished in the kind. 'T ESSAY XVIII. THE EPICURE A N*. IS a great mortification to the vanity of man, that his utmost art and industry can never equal the meaneft of nature's productions, either for beauty or value. Art is only the underworkman, and is employed to give a few ftrokes of embellishment to those pieces, which come from the hand of the mafter. Some of the drapery may be of his drawing; but he is not allowed to touch the principal figure. Art may make a fuit of clothes: But nature must produce a man. EVEN in those productions, which are commonly denominated works of art, we find, that the nobleft of the kind are beholden for their chief beauty to the force and happy influence of nature. To the Oeftrum or native enthusiasm of the poets, we owe whatever is admirable in their productions. The greatest genius, where nature at any time fails him (for fhe is not equal) throws afide the lyre, and hopes not, from the rules of art, to reach that divine harmony, which muft proceed from her infpiration alone. How poor are thofe fongs, where a happy flow of fancy has not furnished materials for art to embellish and refine! BUT of all the fruitless attempts of art, no one is fo ridiculous, as that which the fevere philofophers have undertaken, the producing an artificial happiness, and making us be pleafed by rules of reafon, and by reflection. Why did none of them claim the reward, which XERXES promised to him, who could invent a new pleasure. Unlefs, perhaps, they invented fo many pleasures for their own use, * OR, the man of elegance and pleasure. The intention of this and the three following effays is not fo much, to explain accurately the fentiments of the ancient fects of philofophy, as to deliver the fentiments of fects, that naturally form themselves in the world, and entertain different ideas of human life and of happiness. I have given each of them the name of the philofophical fect, to which it bears the greatest affinity. that that they despised riches, and ftood in no need of any enjoyments, which the rewards of that monarch could procure them. I am apt, indeed, to think, that they were not willing to furnish the PERSIAN Court with a new pleasure, by prefenting it with fo new and unusual an object of ridicule. Their fpeculations, when confined to theory, and gravely delivered in the schools of GREECE, might excite admiration in their ignorant pupils: But the attempting to reduce fuch principles to practice would foon betray their abfurdity. You pretend to make me happy by reason, and by rules of art. You must, then, create me anew by rules of art. For on my original frame and structure does my happiness depend. But you want power to effect this; and skill too, I am afraid Nor can I entertain a lefs opinion of nature's wifdom than of yours. And let her conduct the machine, which fhe has fo wifely framed. I find, that I fhould only spoil it by my tampering. To what purpose fhould I pretend to regulate, refine, or invigorate any of those fprings or principles, which nature has implanted in me? Is this the road by which I must reach happinefs? But happiness implies eafe, contentment, repofe and pleafure; not watchfulnefs, care, and fatigue. The health of my body confifts in the facility with which all its operations are performed. The ftomach digefts. the aliments: The heart circulates the blood: The brain feparates and refines the fpirits: And all this without my concerning myself in the matter. When by my will alone I can stop the blood, as it runs with impetuofity along its canals, then may I hope to change the courfe of my fentiments and paffions. In vain fhould I ftrain my faculties, and endeavor to receive pleasure from an object, which is not fitted by nature to affect my organs with delight. I may give myself pain by my fruitless endeavors, but fhall never reach any pleasure. AWAY then with all thofe vain pretences of making ourfelves happy within ourselves, of feafting on our own thoughts, of being fatisfied with the conscioufnefs of well-doing, and of defpifing all affiftance and all fupplies from external objects. This is the voice of PRIDE, not of NATURE. And it were well, if even this pride could fupport itfelf, and communicate a real inward pleasure, however melancholy or fevere. But this impotent pride can do no more than regulate the outfide; and with infinite pains and attention compofe the language and countenance to a philofophical dignity, in order to deceive the ignorant vulgar. The heart, mean while, is empty of all enjoyment: And the mind, unfupported by its proper objects, finks into the deepest forrow and dejection. Miferable but vain mortal! Thy mind be happy within itfelf! With what refources is it endowed to fill fo immenfe a void, and fupply the place of all thy bodily fenfes and faculties? Can thy head fubfift without thy other members? In fuch a fituation, What foolish figure must it make? Into fuch a lethargy, or fuch a melancholy, must thy mind be plunged, when deprived of foreign occupations and enjoyments. KEEP me, therefore, no longer in this violent constraint. Confine me not within myself; but point out to me thofe objects and pleasures, which afford the chief enjoyment. But why do I apply to you, proud and ignorant fages, to fhew fhew me the road to happiness? Let me confult my own paffions and inclinations. In them muft I read the dictates of nature; not in your frivolous difcourses. BUT fee, propitious to my wishes, the divine, the amiable* PLEASURE, the fupreme Love of GODS and men, advances towards me. At her approach, my heart beats with genial heat, and every fenfe and every faculty is diffolved in joy; while fhe pours around me all the embellishments of the fpring, and all the treasures of the autumn. The melody of her voice charms my ears with the softest music, as the invites me to partake of those delicious fruits, which, with a fmile that diffuses a glory on the heavens and the earth, fhe prefents to me. The fportive CUPIDS, who attend her, or fan me with their odoriferous wings, or pour on my head the moft fragrant oils, or offer me their sparkling nectar in golden goblets. O for ever let me fpred my limbs on this bed of rofes, and thus, thus feel the delicious moments, with foft and downy steps, glide along. But cruel chance! Whither do you fly fo faft? Why do my ardent wishes, and that load of pleasures, under which you labor, rather haften than retard your unrelenting pace? Suffer me to enjoy this foft repofe, after all my fatigues in fearch of happinefs. Suffer me to fatiate myself with thefe delicacies, after the pains of fo long and fo foolish an abftinence. BUT it will not do. The rofes have loft their hue: The fruit its flavor : And that delicious wine, whofe fumes, fo late, intoxicated all my fenfes with such delight, now folicits in vain the fated palate. Pleafure fmiles at my languor. She beckens her fifter, Virtue, to come to her affiftance. The gay, the frolic Virtue obferves the call, and brings along the whole troop of my jovial friends. Welcome, tl rice welcome, my ever dear companions, to thefe fhady bowers, and to this luxurious repaft. Your prefence has restored to the rofe its hue, and to the fruit its flavor. The vapors of this fprightly nectar now again play around my heart; while you partake of my delights, and difcover in your chearful looks, the pleasure which you receive from my happiness and fatisfaction. The like do I receive from yours; and encouraged by your joyous prefence, fhall again renew the feaft, with which, from too much enjoyment, my fenfes were well nigh fated; while the mind kept not pace with the body, nor afforded relief to her overburthened partner. In our chearful difcourfes, better than in the formal reasonings of the schools, is true wisdom to be found. In our friendly endearments, better than in the hollow debates of statesmen and pretended patriots, does true virtue display itfelf. Forgetful of the paft, fecure of the future, let us here enjoy the prefent; and while we yet poffefs a being, let us fix fome good, beyond the power of fate or fortune. To-morrow will bring its own pleasures along with it: Or should it disappoint our fond wishes, we shall at least enjoy the pleasure of reflecting on the pleasures of to-day. FEAR not, my friends, that the barbarous diffonance of BACCHUS, and of his revellers, should break in upon this entertainment, and confound us with their turbulent and clamorous pleafures. The fprightly mufes wait around; and with their charming fymphony, fufficient to foften the wolves and tygers of the savage • Dia Voluptas. LUCRET. defert, defert, inspire a foft joy into every bofom. Beace, harmony, and concord reign in this retreat; nor is the filence ever broke but by the mufic of our fongs, or the chearful accents of our friendly voices. BUT hark! the favorite of the mufes, the gentle DAMON, ftrikes the lyre; and while he accompanies its harmonious notes with his more harmonious fong, he infpires us with the fame happy debauch of fancy, by which he is himself tranfported. "Ye happy youth," he fings, "Ye favored of heaven †, while the "wanton fpring pours upon you all her blooming honors, let not glory feduce you, with her delufive blaze, to pafs in perils and dangers this delicious season, "this prime of life. Wisdom points out to you the road to pleasure: Nature ་ too beckens you to follow her in that fmooth and flowry path. Will you "fhut your ears to their commanding voice? Will you harden your heart to "their foft allurements? Oh, deluded mortals, thus to lofe your youth; thus "to throw away fo invaluable a prefent, to trifle with fo perifhing a bleffing. Contemplate well your recompence. Confider that glory, which fo allures your proud hearts, and feduces you with your own praifes. 'Tis an eccho, a "dream, nay the fhadow of a dream, which is diffipated by every wind, and "loft by every contrary breath of the ignorant and ill-judging multitude. You "fear not, that even death itself fhall ravish it from you. But behold! while you are yet alive, calumny bereaves you of it; ignorance neglects it; nature enjoys it not; fancy alone, renouncing every pleasure, receives this airy recom66 pence, empty and unstable as herself." 66 THUS the hours pafs unperceived along, and lead in their wanton train all the pleafures of fenfe, and all the joys of harmony and friendship. Smiling innocence clofes the proceffion; and while the prefents herself to our ravished eyes, The embellishes the whole fcene, and renders the view of thefe pleasures as tranfporting, after they have paft us, as when, with laughing countenances, they were yet advancing towards us. BUT the fun has funk below the horizon; and darkness ftealing filently upon us, has now buried all nature in an universal shade. Rejoice, my friends, con"tinue your repast, or change it for foft repofe. Tho' abfent, your joy or your 66 tranquillity shall still be mine." But whither do you go? Or what new pleafures call you from our fociety? Is there aught agreeable without your friends? And can aught pleafe, in which we partake not?" Yes, my friends; the joy, which "I now feek, admits not of your participation. Here alone I wish your abfence: "And here alone can I find a fufficient compenfation for the lofs of "ciety.' your fo Bur I have not advanced far thro' the fhades of the thick wood, which spreds a double night around me, e're, methinks, I perceive thro' the gloom, the charming CELIA, the mistress of my wifhes, who wanders impatient thro' the grove, and preventing the appointed hour, filently chides my tardy fteps. But the joy, which the receives from my prefence, beft pleads my excufe; and diffipating every anxious and every angry thought, leaves room for nought but mu An imitation of the SYRENS fong in TASSO. N Giurefalemme liberata, Canto 14. tual tual joy and rapture. With what words, my fair one, fhall I exprefs my tenderness, or defcribe the emotions which now warm my tranfported bofom! Words are too faint to defcribe my love; and if, alas! you feel not the fame flame within you, in vain fhall I endeavor to convey to you a juft conception of it. But your every word and every motion fuffice to remove this doubt; and while they exprefs your paffion, ferve alfo to enflame mine. How amiable this folitude, this filence, this darkness! No objects now importune the ravifhed foul. The thought, the fenfe, all full of nothing but our mutual happiness, wholly poffefs the mind, and convey a pleasure, which deluded mortals vainly feek for in every other enjoyment. BUT why does your bofom heave with thefe fighs, while tears bathe your glowing cheeks? Why diftract your heart with fuch vain anxieties? Why fo often afk me, How long my love fhall yet endure? Alas, my CELIA, Can I refolve this queftion? Do I know how long my life hall yet endure? But does this alfo disturb your tender breaft? And is the image of our frail mortality for ever prefent with you, to throw a damp on your gayeft hours, and poifon even those joys which love infpires. Confider rather, that if life be frail, if youth be tranfitory, we should well employ the prefent moment, and lofe no part of fo perishable an existence. Yet a little moment, and these fhall be no more. We fhall be, as if we had never been. Not a memory of us be left upon earth; and even the fabulous shades below will not afford us a habitation. Our fruitless anxieties, our vain projects, our uncertain fpeculations fhall all be fwallowed up and loft. Our prefent doubts, concerning the original caufe of all things, muft never, alas! be refolved. This alone we may be certain of, that if any governing mind prefide over the universe, he must be pleased to fee us fulfil the ends of our being, and enjoy that pleasure, for which alone we were created. Let this reflection give eafe to your anxious thoughts; but render not your joys too ferious, by dwelling for ever upon it. 'Tis fufficient, once, to be acquainted with this philofophy, in order to give an unbounded loose to love and jollity, and remove all the fcruples of a vain fuperftition: But while youth and paffion, my fair-one, prompt our eager defires, we muft find gayer subjects of discourse, to intermix with thefe amorous caresses. ESS A A Y THE STOIC †. XIX. HERE is this obvious and material difference in the conduct of nature, Twith regard to man and other animals, that having endowed the former with a fublime celeftial fpirit, and having given him an affinity with fuperior beings, fhe allows not fuch noble faculties to lie lethargic or idle; but urges him, by neceffity, to employ, on every emergence, his utmost art and industry. Brute creatures have many of their neceffities fupplied by nature, being cloathed and armed by this beneficent parent of all things: And where their own industry is Or the Man of action and virtue, requifite |