in the country can do that; but" (pausing with all the solemnity of dignified anger), "I do assure you, Sir, very few can have an opportunity of seeing my garden!"

Oh! quit those mountains, bid those vales adieu!
Those lovely landscapes were not made for you!

1

What you have often said of my pursuits, and of my ambition, my dear Lelius, is but too true. In early life I perceived, (for I had ample opportunity of doing so), so many contemptible persons arrive at wealth, that I took almost a disgust to every one, who had improved his condition to an extent, that industry seemed scarcely to justify. Hence arose an error of the opposite nature; (viz.) that of neglecting to pay that attention to the acquirement of wealth, which I have since had ample reason to see was necessary. The grove, the setting sun, the river; Horace, Virgil, Tasso, and Newton, could smother care at all times: and, as they had the power of doing so, I permitted them.

Spirit of Spenser!-Was the wanderer wrong?

CHAPTER VIII.

THE imagination can select few objects, on which it more delights to repose, than the retirement of a man of talents and integrity from the vortex of public life. Surrounded by objects of the vast creation,

All the distant din, the world can keep,

Rolls o'er his grotto and but soothes his sleep.

Such was the retirement of Scipio; when, rich in an approving conscience, he retired from the malicious persecution of his enemies, to philosophic ease and independence, at his villa of Liternum, so well described by Seneca.' There, charmed with the diversity of its landscapes, in a frequent perusal of Xenophon, and in the conversation of Terence, Lelius, and Lucilius, he cultivated his farm, and enjoyed an evening of life, truly enviable for its tranquillity, innocence and glory. There it was, he out-lived all his injuries, and all the calumnies, that had been propagated against him. There

-Sick of glory, faction, power, and pride,
Beneath his woods the happy chief repos'd,

And life's great scene in quiet virtue closed.

II.

Scipio died about the same time with Hannibal and Philopamen. He was the most beautiful of the Romans, as Alexander had been of the Greeks. There is a gem on cornelian, at Rome, a copy of which,

1 Ep. lib. xiii.

an

presented to me by Signor Frescati, exhibits exquisitely manly and beautiful face. Of all persons, says Paterculus, this was the man, who best knew how to mingle leisure with action; and how to embellish the grandeur of public life with the taste and elegance of a private one.

And here, my Lelius, perhaps, you will excuse me for observing, that calumny, that scourge of Scipio, and indeed of all public and private life, is the natural result of permitting a slanderer to escape the odium of a public exposition. Society, indeed, is, generally speaking, little better than a wasp's nest. Hunting for failings and deficiencies with more malice, than integrity, if it rake not up the ashes of those beyond their reach, in all the exercise of a refined charity, it heaps the crimes and the meannesses of the dead on the innocent heads of the living. To atone for which, it presents to those, whom it has injured, professions, flatteries, and external exhibitions of subdued demeanour. Cant without practice is worse than nothing! Profession without substance is worse than nothing! A smiling face and a lying tongue my heart abhors!

Such is a true picture of modern society, in country places. A general ignorance of merit ; and a general envy, where it is known to exist. "We ought not, however, to despair," says a celebrated French philosopher," at the afflicting discoveries, we often make in acquiring a knowledge of mankind. It is necessary, in order to know them, to triumph over the displeasure, they

create: as an anatomist triumphs over nature, its organs and singularities, that he may acquire skill in his profession." Envy is the parent of lies. It is also the most ignorant of all the passions!

For could we mental sufferings read,
Inscribed with truth upon each brow,

With pity then our hearts would bleed,
For those, whom most we envy now.

Metastasio. Burney.

What an admirable picture has Lucian exhibited of a painting, executed by Apelles! CALUMNY is invited by CREDULITY, who is represented with large ears, and wandering eyes. Behind him stand SUSPICION and IGNORANCE. CALUMNY approaches, holding in her left hand a lighted torch; while, with her right, she drags, with the most determined vehemence, a young man, who supplicates heaven, with distracted voice and up-lifted hands. She is convulsed with passion. On one side moves CONSPIRACY; on the other FRAUD: REPENTANCE walks behind with a melancholy aspect, and a tattered robe; looking occasionally at TRUTH, who follows, meditating on the cruelty of the scene before her.

III.

Every part of society, however, is not thus constituted: since in every theatre, however large, or

1 Se a ciascum l'interno affanno,

Si legesse in fronte scritto;
Quanti mai che invidia fanno

Ci farebbero picta.

however small, there exist a few, who perceive the malice, and despise the meanness of the rest. They live like Daniel in the Lion's den! Truth and justice are their companions; and, speaking by a figure,

Wheresoe'er their footsteps turn,
Rubies blush and diamonds burn.

Sargent's Mine.

But even good men have frequently a difficulty, and have always a discretion allowed, in acknowledging merit. Merit is modest; and is not only difficult to be recognized; but is frequently a conspirator against her own splendour. She is seen, also, mostly at a disadvantage: either too nearly, or too remotely. Grandeur cannot be observed in the noble arch of Trajan over the Danube; if the spectator stand immediately under the buttresses: neither can we form any adequate idea of St. Paul's in London, or St. Peter's, at Rome, if we approach too near those magnificent buildings. The analogy applies equally to men. Great men cannot be seen to advantage, if they are too closely approached. Men of a common stamp, however, cannot be seen at all, unless they are directly under our eyes: and then, indeed, they are visible enough!

Were Envy to be personified, and had I the powers of a Caracche or an Angelo, I should exhibit him with looks awry; cheeks pale; lips hanging; nose sneering; eyebrows knit: chewing hemlock, and drinking the gall of vipers. Mourning at another's victory, and shedding tears of rapture at a