Letters. I know they are not, and therefore cannot much recommend Solitude to a man totally illiterate. 174 As Of Himself Essays S far as my Memory can return back into my past Life, before I knew, or was capable of guessing what the world, or glories, or business of it were, the natural affections of my soul gave me a secret bent of aversion from them, as some Plants are said to turn away from others, by an Antipathy imperceptible to themselves and inscrutable to man's understanding. Even when I was a very young Boy at School, instead of running about on Holidays and playing with my fellows, I was wont to steal from them, and walk into the fields, either alone with a Book, or with some one Companion, if I could find any of the same temper. I was then, too, so much an Enemy to all constraint, that my Masters could never prevail on me, by any perswasions or encouragements, to learn without Book the common rules of Grammar, in which they dispensed with me alone, because they found I made a shift to do the usual exercise out of my own reading and observation. That I was then of the same mind as I am now (which I confess, I wonder at myself) may appear by the latter end of an Ode, which I made when I was but thirteen years old, and which was then printed with many other Verses. . . You may see by it I was even then acquainted with the Poets (for the Conclusion is taken out of Horace); and perhaps it was the immature and immoderate love of them which stamped first, or rather engraved, these Characters in me. They were like Letters cut into the Bark of a young Tree, which with the Tree still grow proportionably. But how this love came to be produced in me so early is a hard question. I believe I can tell the particular little chance that filled my head first with such Chimes of Verse, as have never since left ringing there: for I remember when I began to read, and to take some pleasure in it, there was wont to lie in my Mother's Parlour (I know not by what accident, for she herself never in her life read any Book but of Devotion), but there was wont to lie Spencers Works; this I happened to fall upon, and was infinitely delighted with the Stories of the Knights, and Giants, and Monsters, and brave Houses, which I found everywhere there (though my understanding had little to do with all this), and by degrees with the tinkling of the Rhyme and Dance of the Numbers, so that I think I had read him all over before I was twelve years old, and was thus made a Poet as irremediably as a Child is made an Eunuch. 175 I Fallentis semita vitae Essays LOVE and commend a true good Fame, because it is the shadow of Virtue; not that it doeth any good to the Body which it accompanies, but 'tis an efficacious shadow, and like that of St. Peter cures the Diseases of others. The best kind of Glory, no doubt, is that which is reflected from Honesty, such as was the Glory of Cato and Aristides, but it was harmful to them both, and is seldom beneficial to any man whilst he lives; what it is to him after his death I cannot say, because I love not Philosophy merely notional and conjectural, and no man who has made the Experiment has been so kind as to come back to inform us. Upon the whole matter, I account a person who has a moderate Mind and Fortune, and lives in the conversation of two or three agreeable friends, with little commerce in the world besides, who is esteemed well enough by his few neighbours that know him, and is truly irreproachable by anybody, and so after a healthful quiet life, before the great inconveniences of old age, goes more silently out of it than he came in (for I would not have him so much as Cry in the Exit), this Innocent Deceiver of the world, as Horace calls him, this Muta persona, I take to have been more happy in his Part than the greatest Actors that fill the Stage with show and noise, nay, even than Augustus himself, who asked with his last breath, Whether he had not played his Farce very well. JOHN EVELYN Essays 1620-1706 176 On his Plan of a Garden Book STR Co. Garden, Lond. 28 Jan. [1657–8]. IR, I return you a thousand acknowledgements for the papers which you transmitted me, and I will render you this account of my present undertaking. The truth is, that which imported me to discourse on this subject after this sort was the many defects which I encountered in books and in gardens, wherein neither words nor cost had been wanting, but judgement very much; and though I cannot boast of my science in this kind, as both unbecoming my years and my small experience, yet I esteemed it pardonable at least, if in doing my endeavour to rectify some mistakes, and advancing so useful and innocent a divertisement, I made some essay, and cast in my symbol with the rest. . . . The model, which I perceive you have seen, will abundantly testify my abhorrency of those painted and formal projections of our cockney gardens and plots, which appear like gardens of pasteboard and marchpane, and smell more of paint than of flowers and verdure: our drift is a noble, princely, and universal Elysium, capable of all the amenities that can naturally be introduced into gardens of pleasure, and such as may stand in competition with all the august designs and stories of this nature, either of ancient or modern times; yet so as to become useful and significant to the least pretences and faculties. We will endeavour to show how the air and genius of gardens operate upon human spirits towards virtue and sanctity, I mean in a remote, preparatory, and instrumental working. How caves, grots, mounts, and irregular ornaments of gardens do contribute to contemplative and philosophical enthusiasm; how elysium, antrum, nemus, paradysus, bortus, lucus, &c., signify all of them rem sacram et divinam; for these expedients do influence the soul and spirits of man, and prepare them for converse with good angels; besides which, they contribute to the less abstracted pleasures, philosophy natural and longevity; and I would have not only the eulogies and effigy of the ancient and famous garden heroes, but a society of the paradisi cultores, persons of ancient simplicity, Paradisean and Hortulan saints, to be a society of learned and ingenuous men, such as Dr. Browne, by whom we might hope to redeem the time that has been lost in pursuing Vulgar Errours and still propagating them, as so many bold men do yet presume to do. Were it to be hoped, inter hos armorum strepitus, and in so general a catalysis of integrity, interruption of peace and propriety, the hortulan pleasures, these innocent, pure, and useful diversions might enjoy the least encouragement, whilst brutish and ambitious persons seek themselves in the ruins of our miserable yet dearest country, quis talia fando-? 177 WE Letter to Sir Thomas Browne Galley-Slaves 7E went to visit the Galleys, being about twentyfive; the Captain of the Galley Royal gave us most courteous entertainment in his cabin, the slaves in the interim playing both loud and soft music very rarely. Then he showed us how he commanded their motions with a nod and his whistle, making them row out. The spectacle was to me new and strange, to see so many hundreds of miserably naked persons, having their heads shaven close and having only high red bonnets, a pair of coarse canvas drawers, their whole backs and legs naked, doubly chained about their middle and legs, in couples, and made fast to their seats, and all commanded in a trice by an imperious and cruel seaman. One Turk he much favoured, who waited on him in his cabin, but with no other dress than the rest, and a chain locked about his leg but not coupled. This galley was richly carved and gilded, and most of the rest were very beautiful. After bestowing something on the slaves, the captain sent a band of them to give us music at dinner where we lodged. I was amazed to contemplate how these miserable catiffs lie in their galley crowded together, yet there was hardly one but had some occupation by |