THE GROUND OF HAPPINESS. There is a Latin proverb which says, that man is the architect of his own fortune- Quisque suæ fortunæ faber. It may be said with equal, if not greater truth, that man is the architect of his own happiness. He may lay a sure foundation in his own sense and virtue, choose the situation by his own judgment, select the materials by his own feelings, and arrange them by his own habitual skill: then the mansion's size and style must exactly quadrate with the owner's taste and notion of convenience and comfort. KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD. Men who pique themselves on the knowledge of the world are generally persons who are hackneyed' in its by ways, and unjustly claim a superiority over men of more retired habits, though perhaps more than equal sense: as lawyers conversant in the practice of courts are apt to consider themselves of more importance and utility than men of much more eminent talents in oratory. Alas! what is this boasted knowledge of the world but being conversant with the tricks and chicanery and roguery of our fellow-creatures? home; so the former quote Aristode and other Greek and Latin authors for truths and arguments which the commonest authors in their own language would have more obviously suggested to them. Translators must be as great enemies to the power of these pedants, as the version of the Scriptures was to that of the Roman Catholic church. AVARICE Is generally supposed to be a despotic inherent right; but it owes a great deal monarch, and to reign solely by its own of its power to its great ally-Vanity. The almost universal deference paid to money-holders makes that man fond of accumulating and hoarding, whose vanity might have taken the contrary direction if the world had been on his side. When we see that wealth is sure to gain respect and admiration, avarice almost becomes a virtue in a worldly view; since an ass loaded with gold can find access, where an angel without a stiver would see the gates closed on his approach! MILTON AND POPE. It is very remarkable, that though the former poet was very fond of music, and even a performer in that delightful art, yet he has left in his great epic poem very many lines which neither syllabic or accentual quantity can reconcile to the ear. Pope, on the other hand, is known neither to have practised nor relished music, yet his poetry is so distinguished by the smoothness and melody of his verses, that they sound as musical "As is Apollo's lute." HOBBIHORSICAL PREJUDICES. Cicero, conscious, no doubt, of his great and very eminent reputation in the art of oratory, says roundly, that no one but a good man can be a complete orator. Earl Marshal Lord Arundel, the celebrated collector of statues and pictures, says, with a zeal in his pursuit equal to that of the Roman orator, that a man cannot be honest unless he understands the art of drawing. Johm Evelyn, who relates this anecdote with applause, very cautiously adds, " How that observation succeeds in general, we have not made it much our observation."Evelyn's Hist. of Chalcography. MODEST ASSURANCE. This quality, though of no noble origin, is yet very useful to aid the abi men. lities of some METHODISTS IN LITERATURE. The canting boast of inward light and a call is not confined to religious sectaries; we find Methodists also in literature. Surely the man who, trusting in his own genius, pretends to undervalue all toil and study, forgets or does not know that a Milton, a Dryden, a Butler, and a Pope, were great students before they began to be writers. Such a literary Methodist would soon find how vain were his pretensions to a call to poetry, when his first work fell under the hands of an able and intelligent critic. COXCOMBS. This species of bipeds, if brought up in well-regulated families, are by no means unpleasant companions in moments of relaxation, whilst you give them a full liberty of playing their and " LOTTERIES. 46 Are constructed upon a palpable ground of deception, but succeed in powerfully attracting persons of strong hopes and little reason: Decipi vult" decipiatur," may be equally the Hazard" and "Goodluck." motto of " Ministers who have exhausted all their sources of taxation, and have recourse to this at last, remind me of a juggler who, at the end of his performance, excites the attention of his audience, by exclaiming, "Now, gentlemen, Í will shew you a trick worth all your money! ! !" THE LOVE OF WORDS. This seems a great nuisance to modern composition. I have read, or rather tried to read, some late essays on very important and statistical subjects, where the verbiage was so thickly sown, and the thoughts so far-fetched, that my patience was soon overpowered by this profundity and eloquence: Had not the authors before them the popular perspicuous letter of the Dean of St. Patrick's as patterns, or are pedants an indocile and incorrigible race? MR. EDITOR, SORROWS OF AUTHORS. I HAD occasion the other day to visit that part of the town where those unfortunate men, whom Goldsmith describes as leading in this world "a damuable life,” usually reside. In pursuing my enquiries I entered a fourthfloor room, and found it tenanted by a chair with three legs and a small deal table, on which lay some scattered papers, and a broken ink-stand, with a pen (I presume like its master) worn to the very bone; I asked to whom they belonged, and was informed that the poor man whose property they were, had formerly taken a room on the lower floor, but that latterly he had been much reduced in his circumstances, and that on receiving the packet which lay on the table, he had taken his hat and rushed out of the house in a very disturbed manner. This was a week motto, thus: "Here lies poor Ned Purdon from slavery freed, Who long was a bookseller's hack, He led such a damnable life here below That I don't think he'll wish to come back." "The devil twitched me by the sleeve; he could not have touched a more fragile part of my garments to secure his hold, for it had served me, like Scarron's black doublet, for two good years. Let not the reader start when I mention the name of that awful personage, for I mean neither the mythological satan, nor the devil to whom Dr. Faustus made a deed of gift of his soul, duly indented, signed, sealed, and delivered, nor yet the diabolus regis, or attorney general's devil, nor a devil of a fellow, nor a queer devil. No, I mean that most diabolical of all devils-a printer's devil. He twitched me by the sleeve, part of which was left unfortunately between his fingers; and uttered the dreadful words" The press stands still." Now I had risen that morning at half-past four, and it was now above half-past eight in the evening, and during all that time I had never taken my pen off my paper for more than ten minutes, which was between twelve and one o'clock, when I dined. Temperance is "an excellent thing" in man, like "silence in woman;" so is a dry biscuit with a glass of rain-water. Dr. Franklin recommends it as the most strengthening diet. I don't think it adds much to my vigour; but I persisted in it out of respect for that great man's memory; and besides it is more easily prepared than a more sumptuous feast, but of that I say nothing. This had been my daily fare for a month, and on this I had written fourteen hours a day, till the under part of the little finger of my right hand had actually become smoother than the most polished ivory. This visit was too much for me. "Did I not send you six sheets yesterday, and did Dr. Johnson, when he was starving on translations, ever do more? Do you think I can keep ten presses at work, all to procure myself this miserable garret, wherein to conceal my wretchedness from the world? Take it," I cried, and saluted the grinning devil with three quires of foolscap on the side of the head. He gathered up the sheets, asked whether they were paged, and made a precipitate retreat. The stairs were narrow and uneven, and I suppose his foot slipped, for I heard him and his load rolling over one another till they reached the bottom. He was not killed however, for the next day the villain brought me the proof. The proof! of what? why, of my poor father's wisdom and my folly. Oh that I had followed his advice, and taken in hand the spade instead of the pen. Pen! how hateful is the word. Pen, ink, and paper!—the first stolen from the wing of a goose, "A symbol and a sign To authors of their fate and force;" the second compounded of gall-sure It was at this pure fount that I drank those fatal draughts of literary lore, the intoxicating effects of which I have rued in years of toil and penury. My father beheld the growing contagion, but he in vain opposed its progress. There is no inoculation which can prevent the cacoethes scribendi. It. used to be my employment to dust the books before they were arranged on the stall in the morning, and from cleaning the outsides, I promoted myself at last to sully the insides. Some of my father's choicest copies bore the marks of my young thumbs. Would that he had done as Petrarch's father had the firmness to do before him, and cast the contagious volumes into the flames. However, he did what his poverty permitted, and sold them under price, as soon as he perceived me growing too much attached to them. I cannot now tell how I managed it, but I might have been born before the confusion of tongues, for I mastered every language I attempted with perfect ease. O fatal gift! had I remained faithful to my mother-tongue I had never become a translator. I gained a great reputation in our little town, and with my father's friends I was a "Magnus Apollo." I now began to turn my talents to some account, and luckily the grocer and a few other of the tradesmen employed me on a Saturday to audit the week's accounts, a service for which I was usually repaid in kind, and many a tender beefsteak has smoked on my father's Sundayboard, the produce of my industry, and the generous recompence of my friend the butcher. In vain my father endeavoured to persuade me that agriculture was both an useful and an honourable employment, and that it became me to shoulder a spade. I admitted that it was practised by the greatest men among the Romans at an early period, but I saw nothing in the shepherds of our neighbourhood which reminded me of the swains of Virgil and Sannazaro. I was better acquainted with a Roman plough than an English one; and I well remember the only time I interfered in agricultural pursuits, was in planting some thousand-headed cabbages in a quincunx. At last the true report of my erudition reached the hall, and the squire one day sent for me, in order to convince himself of the truth of what he had heard. He was a man who had not passed an unprofitable youth, and in his after-years all his learning had not forsaken him. I was aware of the trial I should have to go through, and hit upon the same expedient which Dr. Johnson employed with similar success when he first went to college. I quoted Macrobius, an author whom the squire had probably never read, or perhaps never heard of. He asked me no more questions, shook me by the hand, gave me an Elzevir Tacitus, and dismissed me. I was now nineteen, and my father insisted on my adopting some permanent employment. I had just been reading the Cyropædia, and began to educate myself for the military profession, by reading Frontinus and Polyæni Stratagemata. My favourite idea was to introduce the military engines of the ancients into modern warfare, and my head ran all the day on catapulta and balista. It was well for me that no Serjeant Kite was in the neighbourhood, or I had long since become food for powder. At this critical moment my fortunes were fixed. The squire sent for me one Monday morning, and I was ushered into the library. He motioned me to a chair, and I sat down, collecting all my energies, as I imagined he had sent for me to break an argumentative lance with him. " Neville," said he, "I know you possess much good sense and more learning." I bowed. "I wish my son had your abilities, but his mind is not quick, and requires much culture; are you willing to become his preceptor? Will you come and reside with him under my own eye? the terms, I think, we shall not quarrel about." I was struck dumb. I cast my eyes over the folios, quartos, and duodecimos, the bindings of which seemed so much to require my duster, I had already devoured them all in idea. As soon as the faculty of speech returned, I accepted the proposal with humble thanks, and Mr. L. rang the bell, "Send Gilbert to me." The servant made a pirouette, and vanished; and in a few moments Gilbert entered—a tall, raw-boned boy of twelve years of age. It was then I commenced tutor-a toil which ought to have been numbered among the labours of Hercules, and to which the labours of Hercules were light. Oh the days of slow and miserable drudgery which I passed in teaching my pupil to discriminate between an obtuse and acute angle, and dragging him, line by line, through Virgil and Horace! But he was not ill-tempered he was only dull, and the labour of teaching proportionate to his dulnessit was immense, but not quite exasperating. There were some occasions, however, on which instruction became a delightful task. Emilia, the sister of my pupil, though six years older than him, was sometimes present at our lectures, and seemed to take an interest in them which enhanced their value. Accustomed as I had been to fashion my fancy's ideal model of beauty in the mould of those figures which Greece possessed, and which Rome envied, yet the image of Emilia equalled my most perfect conceptions. She was not one of those pretty, petty, fragile, waxlike figures which look more like the inhabitants of air than earth. She was a figure which an Athenian sculptor would have stopped and gazed on with delight. She was tall-almost commandingly so. Beauty, says Aristotle, consists in magnitude; little men may be called as and cuerpos, pretty and neatly shaped, but not xaλ, beautiful. The women of Homer are all talland Panthea, says Xenophon, was distinguished by her magnitude and strength. The majesty of Emilia's figure was softened by the grace, the infinite grace, with which she moved. Her features were completely Minervesque. All the calm wise dignity-all the fine and sweet repose of expression, and all that beautiful sweep of the chin and cheek, which distinguishes a Grecian face. But it was not this which I worshipped, and I did indeed become a worshipper-it was the "mind and the music" breathing there-but I wander. It was weak and unwise to love; and if it was a grievous sin, grievously did I answer it. I remember Gilbert's false quantities received very few corrections from me whilst Emilia was sitting in the room; and a day seldom passed that Emilia was not present at her brother's studies. She was deeply attached to poetry, and hence another of the great errors of my life. To win her ear, I strung my lyre; and "At every pause she blush'd to hear The one loved name." Of nature's exquisite beauties I walk'd on! declining very fast; he had for some months been unable to attend personally to his business, which he had left in the care of an arrant knave, who had converted many a good volume to his own use and benefit. Boethius de Consolatione had furnished him with brandy; and many a time did he get drunk by embezzling the proceeds of several Flowers, birds, blue skies, bright sunshine, and the copies of Hutchinson's Moral Philoso fleetness And her lips murmur'd out a holy prayer Of thanks and blessings on the heads of those Whom her heart shrined, and my poor name was there, Faintly but fondly, utter'd in the close Of that most blest petition-we arose 'Or speak in those sweet tears which from our full phy, which my father possessed. I came in to save the wreck of this little property; and a few weeks after my arrival my father died. I wept sincerely over him, for he was ever a kind and indulgent parent to me. I now converted all my stock into money, and resolved to proceed whither plainly heard the voice of fame calling me-to London. It was a cruel mistake. However, 1 arrived there, and I have not since quitted it (a residence of twelve years)—no, not even to visit those neighbouring fields, glens, and valleys which excite so much rapture in the minds of some enthusiasts. How those men "babble o' green fields" with all the childishness of the poor, But I grow serious, which was far fat, dying, repentant knight! This is from my intention; for a light heart is the consequence of studying nature in now my only riches. Poetry is love's books-over the fire-side, in a chair artillery, and his shaft, when barbed swinging on two legs, with our two legs with a sonnet, is irresistible. What swinging on the well-polished grate, our quantities of erotic poetry I wrote and ten fingers spread out to enjoy the kindly burned at that time, which would have new milk-like warmth of a Walls-end cut an excellent figure in the columns of coal fire, and our heads rambling on the Magazines! I have, however, pre- what our eyes never beheld. I reached served what would make two very neat London in high spirits and, ye Gods! volumes in twelves, and which should what visions of glory swam before my long since have been laid before the eyes. At one time I was sitting in the public if the booksellers had not been front row of the boxes at Covent Garinsensible to their merits. Unfortunately den, gracefully receiving the extravagant some of my best and most impassioned plaudits which the audience heaped stanzas, intended for the eye of the upon me the first night of my new daughter, met that of the father; and I tragedy. Then I was suddenly transsuppose I need not say, that I troubled ported into the Row, and saw crowds of Gilbert, and Gilbert me, no longer. It booksellers struggling for my new epic. was a pity to leave him at that time, for Wealth, honour, kindness, and smiles he was just in the middle of the pons were my portion. asinorum. I never learned whether he reached the other side in safety. My parting with Emilia-but this is vain we parted-and I turned to my Seneca (Lugduni Batavorum, 1576) for consolation. Alas! I was but a poor stoic. From that time to this I beheld Emilia but once again-but of that anon. I returned to my father very rich, as I imagined, for I carried with me no less than 157. 10s. 4d. in hard cash; besides that I was the owner of an excellent suit of black clothes, which Mr. L. had given me, after discarding them from his own wardrobe. I found my father Although my whole fortune only amounted to 60%., I took a comfortable lodging, without the least apprehension of poverty or distress. The morning after my arrival, I sallied forth in search of the bookseller with whom my father used to transact his little business, resolving, as a favour, to offer him a volume of poems which I had prepared for the press. The man absolutely refused to give the smallest sum for them, or to print them and share the profits, saying they would be a dead weight in the market!!! I think I never was so shocked in my life; my vanity actually died |