University of Virginia Library

Pliny's Epistles. Book V.

Epistle I. To Severus.

by Mr. Henley.

A Small Legacy, but one that is more acceptable than the largest, has fallen to me. Why preferable to the Greatest, you will say? Pomponia Gratilla, having disinherited her Son, Assudius Curianus, left me her Heir, and appointed for Coheirs, Sortorius Severus, of Prætorian

Dignity, and other Roman Knights of Distinction. Her Son, Curianus, desir'd me to give him my Part, and help him out by so favourable a Precedent; and by a secret Agreement, engag'd it should still be secure to me. I answer'd, that is was not agreeable to my way of acting, to do one Thing openly, and another under-hand: Besides, that it did not carry a good Face, to give to one that was Rich, and had no Family: In short; that I should do him no Service, if I gave it him, as a Donation, but should, if I yielded it up to him as a Right; which I was ready to come into, if it appear'd, that he was unjustly disinherited. To this he reply'd, I would beg the Favour of you to examine the Matter. After a little Pause, I told him, that I would consider it: For, (continu'd I) I do not see why I should think less of my self, than I appear to you. But remember at the same Time, that I shall not want courage, if I find it turn in Favour of your Mother. As you please, said he, for you will please to do no more than what is very right and equitable. I consulted two, the most approv'd Men at that Time in Town, Corellius and Frontinus. With these about me, I sate down in my Chamber. Curianus spoke what he thought made for him. I answer'd, briefly; (None else being in Company to defend the Reputation of the deceas'd) then withdrew, and by the Opinion of my Council, said; Curianus, it seems your Mother has been displeas'd with you upon just Reasons. After this, he subscrib'd a Hearing before the Centumviri with the others, and not with me. The Court Day drew on; my Partners in the Devise were inclin'd to compound and transact the Affair between all; not in a diffidence of the Cause, but in a Fear of the Times. They were afraid, that the Judgment of the Centumviri should be Capital upon them, as they knew it has happen'd in many other Cases; and there were some among them, to whom the Friendship of Gratilla and Rusticus might be made an Objection; they desir'd me to talk with Curianus. We met in the Temple of concord; there I urg'd, if your Mother had left you Heir to a fourth Part, could you have complain'd? What if you had been made compleat Heir, but so encumber'd with Legacies, that you would have possess'd no more than a fourth, in Remainder? Therefore you ought to be satisfy'd, if, as you are disinherited by your Mother, you receive a fourth Part from her Heirs, which notwithstanding, I will augment. You know you have not indicted me before the Centumvirate, and that it is now two Years, since I have enjoy'd the Use and Possession of all; but that my Partners may find you more tractable, and you may be no Loser by your Respect for me, I offer you as much for my Particular. I reap'd the Advantage, not only of a clear conscience in this Matter, but of a good Character. Therefore this same Curianus left me a Legacy; and distinguish'd this Action of mine (unless I flatter my self) with that conspicuous Honour, that has been so much us'd by the Antients. I send you this Account, because I converse with you upon all Subjects that either delight or trouble me, with the same Freedom, as I do with my self; and I thought it hard to defraud you, who are so great a Friend, of the Pleasure I my self receiv'd. For I am not so much a Philosopher, as to have no Concern, whether or no the honourable Steps I think I take, be crown'd with any Approbation or Reward.

Farewell.

Epistle II. To Flaccus.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

YOUR fine Present of Thrushes I receiv'd; which I cannot match by any Stores I can raise from my Laurentine Villa, or from the Sea, in so rough and stormy a Course of Weather. My Letter will therefore wait upon

you barren, and plainly ungrateful; and not so much as imitating the craft of Diomedes, in the Exchange of a Gift. But you will be so Good-natur'd, as to pardon it the more readily, as by its own Confession it is void of Merit.

Farewell.

Epistle III. To Aristo.

by B.G. Esq;

AS all your good Offices are both agreeable and obliging, so this especially, that you did not conceal from me, that my Verses had been the Subject of much Conversation, at your House, and that drawn to a great Length by the Difference of Opinions: That there were some, who did not find Fault, with what were wrote but in a friendly and well-meaning way with me, that I should write and repeat such: With whom, to encrease my Fault, I own, I sometimes write Verses, none of the gravest. I make Comedies, I both hear and see Mimicks, I read Lyricks, and I relish Satyr; besides, I laugh, joke, and am merry;

and to confess, I indulge all innocent Relaxations, I am Man. Nor am I concern'd, that those (who are ignorant that the most learned, the wisest and best of Men, have wrote such) should entertain such an Opinion of my Manners, as to wonder that I do. But from those, who know what, and how great Authors I follow, I am satisfy'd I shall easily have leave to err: since it is in Company, whose Light as well as serious works, it is a Credit to copy after. To avoid the Suspicion of Flattery, I will name no Body living; but shall, I fear, that will be indecent in me, that became M. Tully, C. Calvus, A. Pollio, M. Messala, Q. Hortensius, M. Brutus, L. Sulla, Q. Catullus, Q. Scævola, Ser. Sulpitius, Varro, Torquatus, all the Torquati, Memmicus, Lentulus, Gætulicus, Annæus Seneca, Luceius, and in fine, Virginius Rufus, and if private Examples will not justify, Julius Cæsar, Augustus, Nerva, T. Cæsar, for of Nero I say nothing, tho' I know Things do not lose their Value, that are sometimes the Works of bad, but maintain their Credit, as they have more often the Authority of good Men. Among whom, the most remarkable are P. Virgilius, C. Nepos, Ennius, and Accius, who shou'd have been first mentioned: These, indeed, were not Senators, but Sanctity of Manners little differs from Honour. I own I repent my Writings; whether they did theirs or not, I cannot tell, they might rely on their own Judgment, I have too modest an Opinion of my self, to think any Performance of mine perfect, that has only my Approbation. These, therefore are my Reasons for repeating; First, that he who repeats, is, in Respect to the Auditors, more careful in his Composition: then, what he is doubtful of, he fixes as upon an Opinion given; he is admonish'd of many Things by many; and if he is not so admonish'd, as to know what every one thinks, yet he perceives by their countenance their Eyes, their Nod, the Motion of their Hands, the Murmur, their Silence, which by sufficient Signs distinguish Opinion from good Will, and that in such a Manner, that if any present, have a Desire to read the same, he will easily find me to have chang'd and left out many Things, and perhaps from the Judgment he made, tho' he said nothing to me. And these Things I thus argue, as if I had call'd the People to the Audience, not my Friends in private, of whom, to have many, has been an Honour to all, was never a Discredit to any.

Epistle IV. To Valerianus.

by Mr. Henley.

WE have met with a small Affair here, tho' the Occasion of it was not so inconsiderable. Sollers a Person of Prætorian Rank, petition'd the Senate for a Ninth-day Market in the Country, upon his Estate. The Agents of the Vicentini oppos'd it; Thuscillus Nominatus was their Advocate: The Cause was adjourn'd. At the other Hearing before the Senate, the Deputies of Vicenza came in without any Advocate; they affirm'd they were deceiv'd: It is doubtful whether they spoke it inconsiderately, of from their real Sentiments. When they were ask'd by Nepos the Prætor, whom they had employ'd in their Cause? They answer'd, the same they us'd before. On the Question, Whether he then appear'd Gratuitously? They answer'd, for a Fee of 6000 Sesterces: When it was enquir'd, Whether they had given him a second Consideration? They reply'd, a Thousand Deniers. Nepos insisted upon it, that Nominatus should be summon'd

before the House: So far they proceeded that Day; but as far as I can conjecture, the Matter will be carried farther. For a variety of Things, that at first are closely manag'd, and only move upon a very small Hinge, spread to a wider Compass. I have awaken'd your Attention, as long as it is convenient for the present: You may with much Civility desire to know the rest; if you do not take a turn to Rome on this singe account, and chuse rather to be a Spectator than a Reader.

Epistle V. To Maximus.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I Am told, that Caius Fannius is dead; a piece of News that has given me much regret: In the first Place, because I knew the Man to be a Master of an elegant Taste, and of the Art of Speaking; and in the next, because I frequently made use of his Judgment: For he was by Nature penetrating, in Application assiduous, in variety of Knowledge and Affairs, extremely ready. Besides all this, I am concern'd at the Circumstances of his

Death. When he expir'd, he left a Will, that was made long ago; he omitted those he set the highest Value upon; and consider'd such Men, as had been most obnoxious to him. But this, however, may be supported; another Thing is less tolerable, that he has left a beautiful Work behind him unfinish'd. For though he has taken up with the Affairs of the Bar, yet he wrote a History of the Fate of those, who had been put to Death, or banish'd by Nero; and had already perfected three Books, remarkable for acuteness of Wit, Care, and a just Latin Style; and of a middle Character between the Orator and the Historian. And he was the more desirous to perfect the rest, as these were the more in Vogue. But I always look upon the Death of those who are preparing some immortal Work, as severe and immature. For they who are abandon'd to Pleasure, and live no more than a short Day-light, are daily undeserving of Life; but they, who think of Posterity, and extend their Memory by their Actions, must at any time die suddenly, because they will always interrupt something that has been undertaken. Indeed Caius Fannius was previously sensible of what happen'd, long before. As he slept one Night, he dreamt that he lay in his Bed, in a studying Dress, and that as usual, he had a Book-Case before him; soon after he imagin'd that Nero came in, and sate upon the Bed, took out the first Book he had publish'd about his Misconduct, and turn'd it over from one end to the other; that he did the same a second and third time, and then retir'd. He was terrify'd at it, and put this Interpretation upon it, as if he was to make the same end of his Writing, that he made of Reading; and this precisely happen'd. When I reflect upon this, I think with Pity, what Care and Labour he employ'd in vain; I recollect my own Mortality, and my own Writings: And I doubt not, but you are alarm'd with the same Apprehension for the Works you have in Hand. Therefore, while Life continues, let us make it our Endeavour, that Death may find as few Undertakings to destroy, as possible.

Farewell.

Epistle VI. To Apollinaris.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I Was pleas'd with your Concern and Sollicitude, that when you heard I design'd to retreat among my Tuscan Neighbours in Summer, you persuaded me to the contrary, from an Opinion that the Place is unwholsome. Indeed

the Tuscan Coast, that lies along the Seaside, is inconvenient and pernicious to Health: But this Quarter is remote from the Sea; besides, it lies under the Apennine Hills, which are the most Healthful in the World; and therefore, that you may dismiss all your Fears on my Account, mind the Temper of the Air, the Situation of the country, the Delightfulness of the Villa; all which you will find an Entertainment in hearing, as I shall in the Relation.

The Air, in Winter time, is Cold and Frosty. The Soil will not favour the Myrtle, the Olive, and other Plants, that love a constant Warmth; yet it bears the Laurel, and produces it extremely Green. Sometimes it kills it, but not more frequently than is usual about the Town. The Summer is extremely favourable; it is always moving with a gentle Breeze, yet has more often an easie breathing Air, than a Wind. Hence it is, that you may here observe a great Number of Men in Years, that are Grand-fathers of many, now in their Youth. You may hear the Old Stories and Talk of our Fore-fathers, and when once you come hither, you would fancy your self in another Age. The Form of the Country is very fine. Imagine some vast Amphitheatre, and such a one, as Nature alone can make. A wide extended Plain is environ'd with Mountains, which are planted with tall

and aged Groves of Trees on the Top of them. The Game there for Hunting, is plentiful and various; from thence, as the Mountains falls, there is a Descent of Copices: Among these are fruitful Eminencies of Ground, (for you seldom meet with a rocky Part, tho' you look for it;) that are not inferior to the Plains in Fertility, and mature a rich Harvest, something late indeed, but as perfectly. Under these, Vineyards are spread, all over the Side of them, and by their Texture, create one Face all about them: At the End, and Bottom of them, Shrubs grow up in a kind of Border; and after them you have Meadows and open Fields, that are not to be broken up by any Oxen, but those of the largest Size, and by the strongest Ploughs. The Soil being very close and tenacious, when it is first cut, rises in so great Masses of Earth, that it is not subdu'd entirely, 'till the ninth Furrow. The Meadows are flowry and blooming; they produce the Trefoil and other kinds of Herbage, always tender and soft, and as it were, newly springing. For all of them are nourish'd by a constant supply of Water, and Rivulets. But where the Water abounds in greatest Plenty, there is no Marshy Ground, for the Declivity of the Land carries off the Moisture it receives, and does not imbibe, into the Tyber. That River divides the Ground in the Center; it is navigable, and conveys all sorts of Grain to the City, but only in Winter, and the Spring; in Summer it is low, and loses the Name of a Capacious River by the driness of its Channel, but recovers it in Autumn. You will be extremely pleas'd in taking this Prospect of the Country from a Mountain: For you will not imagine, that you view a Spot of Ground, but a Landschape excellently painted; the Eye is refresh'd with that Variety, with that exact Delineation, wherever it falls. The Villa it self, plac'd at the Foot of a Hill, enjoys a View, as if it were on the Brow of it; and rises so gently, so gradually, with an Ascent, that deceives you as you mount, that when you do not think you are going up the Side of it, you are sensible you have ascended. Behind, at some Distance, is the Apennine Mountain. From that it receives a Gale of Air, however calm or still the Day proves, yet not the violent or immoderate, but spent and broken by the very Interval. A great Part of it looks to the South, and as it were, invites the Sun, at Six in Summer, and in Winter something earlier, into a Gallery, that is large, and long in Proportion. There are several Lodgings and Apartments in it; the Court is after the manner of the Antients. Before the Gallery you have a Parterre, cut in a Variety of Shapes, and distinguish'd with Rows of Box, facing one another: Lower is a Spot cover'd with Bear's-foot, so soft to the Tread, that the Foot is hardly sensible of it.

This Spot is enclos'd with a Walk, set round with Greens, close and differently cut: After this, is an Alley, turning in Form of a Circle, within which you have Box-Trees variously figur'd, and small Trees, kept low by Care. All this is fenc'd by a Wall cover'd by several Stages of Box, and conceal'd from the Eye. On the other side is a Meadow, as pleasing by Nature, as what I have mention'd is by Art; and further on, you have open Fields, and several other Pasture-Grounds, and Knots of little Trees. At the Head of the Gallery is a Dining-Room; the Door of it fronts the Extremity of the Parterre, and the Windows view the Meadow, and a large Tract of the Country. This way, a side of the Gallery looks to that Part of the Villa, which advances forward; and to the Groves and Heads of Trees, in the Riding-Place near it. On one Side of the Gallery, towards the middle, there is an Apartment, something retiring backward, that surrounds a little Court, shaded with four Plane-Trees. In the midst of these is a Bason of Marble, and the Water that is pour'd from it affords a Refreshment to the Plane-Trees about, and the Grass that grows under them, by a gentle sprinkling. In this Apartment is a Bed-Chamber, where no Light, Noise, or even Sound can penetrate; and contiguous to it, is a Room for daily Entertainment of my Friends. Another Gallery comes upon this little Court, and points to

all the same Views with the former. There is another Chamber, which enjoys the Verdure and Shade of a Plane-Tree, set near it; fac'd with carv'd Work in Marble, Breast-high, up to a Balcony; there is a painting of Branches, and of Birds fitting upon them (with a little Fountain beneath) that equals the Beauty of the Marble: In this Fountain is a Bason, and about it a Number of Tubes and Canals, that make an agreeable murmur. In a Corner of the Gallery, you pass into a spacious Chamber, opposite to the Dining Room; that looks to the Parterre from some Windows, and the Meadows from the other. Beneath it is a Water-work, that plays under the Windows, delightful both for the Sight, and hearing of the Fall; for the Water, descending from an Height into a Marble Receiver, grows white and foamy. That same Chamber is very warm in Winter, as having the full Advantage of the Sun. Next it is a Stove, and if the Day be overcast, the Vapour of it supplies the Place of the Sun. Thence you go into the Undressing Room for the Bath, it is large and pleasant; then you enter the Cold-bathing Room: where is a Vessel for that Use, large, and sufficiently dark. If you be inclin'd to swim more at Liberty, and with more Warmth, there is a Bath in the Court, and near it a Well, from whence you may be cool'd with fresh Water, if the warm be incommodious. On the Side of the Cold-bathing Room is another of a middle Temper, where the Sun is very favourable; tho' he is more so to the Hot-bathing Apartment, because it is more prominent. There are three Stair-cases to go down to it, two expos'd to the open Sun, the other more remote from it, but as lightsome. Above the Undressing Room for the Bath, is a Tennis-Court, that will admit of several diverting Exercises, and has a Variety of Quarters for it; and not far from the Bath, is a Tennis Court, that will admit of several diverting Exercises, and has a Variety of Quarters for it; and not far from the Bath is a Stair-case, that carries you first into three Apartments, and then into a close Gallery: One of those Apartments looks over the Plane-tree Court, the other to the Meadows, the other to several Vineyards, so that they are expos'd to different Parts of the Heaven; and different Prospects: At the End of the cover'd Gallery is a Chamber taken out of it, which looks to the Riding-Ground, the Vineyards and the Mountains. Contiguous to it, is another very obvious to the Sun, especially in Winter: From this you enter an Apartment, that joins the Riding-House to the Vill: This is the Face and View of it in Front: On the South-side, there is a rais'd close Gallery, which does not seem to look to the Vineyards, but to touch them. In the midst of this Gallery is a Dining-Room, that receives a very wholesome Air from the Apennine Valleys: It has a View through very large Windows to the Vineyards, and from a folding Door to the same from whence the Eye traverses the Gallery. On that side where the Chamber has no Windows, there is a private Stair-Case, that is us'd in the Serving up of an Entertainment. At the End of it is a Chamber, to which the Gallery affords a Prospect as agreeable as the Vineyards. Under it is a Gallery, like a Subterraneous one, that is very cool in Summer, and content with the Air it incloses, neither wants, nor admits, any other. After these two close Galleries, where the Chamber ends, is an open Gallery, cool in the Forenoon, and warm in the decline of the Day. This leads to two Apartments; one is compos'd of four Chambers, the other of three, which, as the Sun takes his Circuit, either enjoy the Gleam, or the Shade. Before these Buildings so well and agreeably dispos'd, is a large Riding-Ground, it is open in the middle, and immediately offers itself entire to the View of those that enter it; it is surrounded with Plane-Trees, which are cloath'd with Ivy: Thus the top of these Trees is green with their proper Leaves, and the lower part is cover'd with a Foreign Foliage. The Ivy wanders over the Trunk and Branches, and joins the Neighbouring Plane-Trees together, in its Passage. Between these Planes, are Box Trees; the exterior part of them is encompass'd with Laurel, which mingles its Shadow with that of the Plane-Trees: The Bound of the Riding-House is here straight, in the Extremity it breaks off in a Semi-circle, and alters its Figure; it is surrounded and cover'd with Cypress-Trees, that make the Shade of it more close and gloomy. In the Inner Rounds of it (for it has a Variety) it receives the clearest Day: It displays every where a beautiful show of Roses, and an agreeable Sun-shine corrects the too great Coolness of the Shade. When this Variety of Rounds and Bendings is at an end, it returns to a straight Border, and that not a single one: For several Ways and Alleys are divided by middle Rows of Box-Trees; here a green Spot, there the Box itself intervenes, mark'd out in a Thousand Forms, and cut in Letters, that sometimes declare the Name of the Master, and sometimes that of the Workman. You see alternately small Pyramids, and Apple-Trees; and this Rustick Beauty of a Spot, which you would say was convey'd all at once into a Place so elegantly set out, is adorn'd towards the middle with Plane-Trees, which are kept very low, on each side: Then you enter into a Tract cover'd with Bears foot, that is bending and pliable; where is likewise a Number of Figures and of Names, express'd in the Plants. At the Extremity, is a Bed of white Marble, cover'd with a Vine, supported by four Pillars of Carystian Marble: From the Bed a flow of Water, as it were, forc'd out by the Weight of those that lie upon it, is receiv'd in a Stone Basin, and from that, in a thin Shell of Marble, and it is so imperceptibly manag'd, that it fills it, and never overflows. When I am dispos'd to eat in this Place, the more solid Dishes are plac'd on the Sides of this Basin, and the lighter put in Vessels that float in the Water, some in the Shape of Boats, others in that of Birds. Over against it is a Fountain, that flings out, and again receives its Water; for when it has been thrown to a good height, it falls back upon itself, and by two Openings that have a Communication, it descends and mounts again incessantly, opposite to the Bed, against the Chamber. This gives an equal Grace to the Bed, as it borrows from it: It shines all over with Marble; its folding Doors jutt out among the Greens, and are almost cover'd with them; then it looks upwards and downwards to other Greens from the higher and lower Window. Near it is another little Apartment, that retires, as it were, into the same Chamber, and is distinct from it. Here is a Bed, and Windows on every side, and yet the Light of it is something gloomy by the Shade that covers it: For a very Luxuriant Vine creeps along over all the Building, and rises to the top of it: You repose there as in a Grove, but are not expos'd to the Rain, as you would be there. Here a Fountain likewise starts up, and loses itself in the same Place. There are Marble Seats dispos'd in several Places, that relieve a fatigue of walking, as well as a Chamber. Near the Seats are small Fountains, the Rivulets that issue from then purl along thro' the whole Riding-Ground, in Pipes and Canals, and follow where the Hand of Art directs them. Sometimes these Greens, sometimes those, and sometimes all together, are wash'd with them. I had finish'd this Account long ago, in fear of being too particular, if I had not propos'd to go about every Corner with you in my Letter: For I was not apprehensive, that it should be tiresome to you in the Reading, which would not have been tedious in the View; especially, when, if you pleas'd, you might rest at Intervals, and, as it were, sit down, laying aside my Epistle. Besides, I indulg'd my own fondness, for I love what I have in a great measure begun; or finish'd, after it had been set on foot by another. In short, (for why should not I impart either my Judgment or Error, to you?) I think it the first Duty of a Writer, to read the Title of his Subject, and often ask himself what he undertook to write upon; and to know, that if he does stay upon his Subject, he is not to long; but very prolix, if he fetches in every thing that is foreign to it. You observe, in what a Multitude of Verses Homer and Virgil describe the Arms of Æneas and Achilles; yet both are short, because they perform what they design'd: You see how Aratus traces over, and collects even the minutest Stars, yet he keeps within Bounds. For this is no Excursion, but the Work itself. Thus to descend from great Matters to smaller, when I endeavour to represent an entire View of my Country Seat to you, if I speak nothing that is strain'd, and digressive, it is not the Letter which gives the Description, but the Vill, which is the Subject of it, that is extravagant. But I must return where I began, least I incur a just Exception, according to my own Rule, if I should depart too far from my Subject. I have given you the Reasons, why I prefer my Tuscan Seat, to those at Tusculum, Præneste, or Tybur. For, over and above what I have related, that Retreat is more quiet, and better supply'd; and therefore more secure; there is no Necessity of a set Dress for Business or Visits, no impertinent Calls from the Neighbourhood. All is pleasing and profoundly easie, which is an addition to the healthful Temper of the Climate; as the Sky is more clear, and the Air more serene here, I enjoy the greatest Vigour, both of Mind and Body. For I exercise my Mind with Studies, and my Body with Hunting. My People live no where in a better Course of Health: I am sure, that hitherto I have lost (thanks to kind Heaven) not one of those I brought hither with me. May the Gods ever continue those Joys to myself, and this Lustre to the Place hereafter.

Adieu.

Epistle VII. To Calvisius.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

IT Is notorious, that a Township can be neither appointed an Heir, nor make the first Demand upon a Will. But Saturninus, who has left me his Heir, has bequeath'd a fourth Part of his Estate to our Town, and then fix'd that Fourth to 400000 Sesterces: This, in the Eye of the Law, is Null, but in the Intention of the Deceas'd, is firm and valid. Now to me, the Will of the Defunct (tho' I am afraid the Lawyers may take amiss what I shall say) is more important than the Law; especially in a Devise which is made to our common Country. What probability is there, that after having given it 1200000 Sesterces of my own Estate, I should deny it something more than a Third Part of 400000, of what is come to me from another Hand? I know too, that you are not disinclin'd to my Opinion, since you have the Affection of a very worthy Citizen to the same Body. I would therefore desire you, at the next Meeting of the Decurions, to shew, what the Law is; yet in a sparing and modest

manner; and then add, that I offer 400000 Sesterces, according to the Will of Saturninus. Let this be call'd his Gift, his Benefaction, but only my Obedience to his Pleasure. I would not write this publickly to the Court; my Confidence in your Friendship, and good Sense, persuaded me that you would speak for me upon this occasion, as you would for your self: And I was afraid, that my Letter might seem to depart from that just Mean, which you might easily preserve in your Discourse. For the Personal Air, the Gesture, the Tone of the Voice itself, determine the Sense what is spoken, but a Letter, destitute of all these Recommendations, is left naked to every malicious Construction.

Farewell.

Epistle VIII. To Capito.

by a Gentleman of Trinity College, in Cambridge.

YOU advise me to write History, and you are not alone in this Advice; many others have put me upon it more than once, and indeed

I am willing enough of my self; not because I believe I shall do it well, ('twere rashness in any one to fancy that before a Tryal) but because I think it a most laudable and glorious thing to preserve those from perishing who deserve Immortality, and to extend to Posterity the Fame of other Men along with ones own. Now I confess, there's nothing in the World I so passionately desire and long after, as to last and be known when I am dead; a Desire most worthy of a Man, but especially one, who not conscious to himself of any Misdemeanour, is not afraid of being remember'd hereafter. With this view I spend whole Days and Nights in considering with my self how I may — mount upon the Wings of Fame (my Wishes go no farther, what follows is more than I dare wish) And through the World acquire immortal Fame. Yet Oh! — But the first is enough, and even that I might venture to say nothing but History can warrant and secure to us. Oratory and Poetry are unentertaining and without Charms, unless they are perform'd with great Eloquence and Exactness; History, though but indifferently written, always pleases. For Men are naturally curious, and taken with the Knowledge of Things themselves, stript of Dress and Ornament. Plain Narration, and bare Matter of Fact, allures and delights them. Besides, I have a Domestick Example to encourage me in this Undertaking. My Uncle, (Father too by Adoption) has written History with great Niceness and Veracity; and the Wise tell us, that nothing is more commendable, than to tread in the Footsteps of those who have gone before us, provided they have taken the right Road. Why don't I immediately set about it then? I have pleaded, you know, many Causes, and those very considerable, and weighty ones; these Pleadings of mine, though I don't expect much from them indeed, I have Thoughts of Revising; for unless I spend some more time and Study about them, the great Pains I have been at already, will probably be lost and forgotten with their Author. For whatever we do with regard to Posterity, if 'tis not finish'd and exact, had as good never have been begun. You'll say, Why don't you do both, revise your Pleadings, and write your History too? 'Tis what I could wish; but the Work of both is so great, that 'tis abundantly enough to do either to good Purpose. I began to plead in the Forum at Nineteen and never knew before now, what a true Orator ought to be able to do, nay, I am not yet very clear in my Notion about it neither. Wou'd it not be wrong then, whilst I have one weighty Concern upon my Hands, to undertake another? Rhetoric and History, 'tis true, have many Things in common; but still there's a mighty difference in those very Things, which at first sight appear common to both. Narration is proper for one, so 'tis for the other; but after another fashion. Low, and mean, and vulgar Matters may be brought into History; but in Oratory nothing will do but what is far fetch'd, fine, and spruce, and lofty. History generally requires what's solid, substantial and sinewy, Bones, Muscles, and Nerves; in Oratory one looks for nothing but Finery and Ornament, soft wreaths of Fat, and flowing curl'd Locks. In History, we are most of all pleas'd with Strength and Sharpness and Vehemence; in Oratory, with a delectable Flowingness and Sweetness. In short, they are quite different as to Words, Pronunciation, Composition. For we must very carefully distinguish, whether, what we are about be for a , and useful and durable Treasure, or an a Tryal of Skill, as Thucydides expresses it. History is the , Oratory the . For these Reasons I am against mingling together two Things so unlike; and both of 'em, which also shews their difference, of the greatest Importance. In such a Confusion and Jumble I might go wrong, and whilst I am employ'd in one Thing, do what's proper only in the other. Therefore I desire I may have Liberty to adjourn this Matter for a while (to use an Expression peculiar to the Forum) and go to Council upon it: But however, I would have you consider, and tell me without any delay, what Times I had best write of: Ancient, and written by others? Here indeed, the Business of Searching and Examining is done to my Hands, but then the Comparing, and laying Matters together, is very troublesome Work. Or, suppose, untouch'd and Modern? Here you displease, and give great Offense to some, and gain but slender Thanks from others. For besides one Discouragement there is, that Mankind being so Vicious, one has more Things to blame than to Praise; when you do Praise, you'll be thought to have said too little; when you blame, too much; and though you have been never so full in your Commendations, never so sparing and careful in your finding Fault. But all this shall not hinder me, for I have a Resolution to be honest, and speak Truth, and Courage enough to support me in that Resolution. I beg of you therefore, to forward me in this Undertaking you advise me to, and to chuse for me the Subject of my History, Otherwise, when I am ready to begin, there will be another fair Pretence to demur, and put off still a little longer.

Epistle IX. To Saturninus.

by Mr. Henley.

YOUR Letter has affected me in a different manner; the Subject of it was partly agreeable, and partly uneasie. The agreeable News in it, is, that you make a Stay in Town; you tell me you are not pleas'd at that, but I have Reasons to be so, since you assure me, that you only wait my Return, to give a publick Reading of your Works; and I thank you for the Favour of that Expectation. The uneasie part of it is, that Julius Valens is very much indispos'd; tho' even this is no Melancholy Tidings, if you reckon it by his own Advantage, for it is his Interest to be eas'd of an incurable Disease with all the Expedition possible. Another Thing is not only said, but deplorable, that Julius Avitus is dead, in his Return from his Quæstorship: He dy'd on Shipboard, far from a very Affectionate Brother, far from his Mother and Sisters. This does not touch the Deceas'd, but it made an Impression

on him, before he dy'd; and is a Concern to those who survive him: But that a Youth of the fairest Hopes should be taken away in the Flower of his Age, who would have attain'd the first Rank, if his Virtues had been ripen'd! What an ardent Love had he for Learning? How much did he read, and write? Which is all departed with him, without Benefit to Posterity. But why do I give a loose to Sorrow? Which, if a Man would indulge, the least Matter in this Consideration, would have Power to raise. I will end these Lines, that I may put a stop to the Tears occasion'd by them.

Farewell.

Epistle X. To Antoninus.

by B. G. Esq;

WHEN I wou'd Rival your Verses, then it is, I find the Worth of 'em; for as a Painter seldom does Justice to a perfect Beauty, I fall short of this Original: Wherefore I more earnestly perswade you to publish more, which all may desire to imitate, few or none can come up to.

Epistle XI. To Tranquillus

by Mr. Henley.

BE prevail'd upon at last to discharge a Promise I made, in some of my Phaleucic Verses, which engag'd several of your Pieces to our common Friends: There is a daily Call and Enquiry for them; so far, that now there is Danger of a formal Summons to them. I own, I am my self tardy in a Publication, but you have out-done my Loitering and Slowness, by a longer Delay. Therefore, either dispatch the Work, or take Care that my Satyrs do not extort from you, what my better-natur'd Poetry could not invite. Your Work is perfected; and the File at present would not polish, but weaken it. Give me the Pleasure of seeing your Name at the Head of a Book; permit me to hear, to have it copy'd; suffer me to read, to purchase the Volumes of my Friends Suetonius. It is but reasonable, in so mutual a Friendship, that I should receive the same Delight from you, as I have imparted to you.

Farewell.

Epistle XII. To Fabatus, his Wife's Grand-father.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I Receiv'd Yours, in which you inform'd me that you had inscrib'd a very beautiful Gallery with your own Name, and that of your son' and on the Day following, had made a Promise of a further Sum, for the Ornament of the Gates of Comum; that the End of your former Bounty, might commence a new Favour. I am greatly pleas'd, first, for your Honour in it, which my Alliance with you gives me a Share of; in the next Place, in observing the Memory of my Father-in-Law preserv'd in Monuments so stately; and Lastly, for the Addition that redounds to my Country by it; which I am pleas'd to find oblig'd by any Hand, but overjoy'd, by yours; I have nothing further to do on this Subject, but to implore the Gods for the Continuance of this Disposition to you, and a length of Years to exert it. For I reckon upon it as a Certainty, that when you have acquitted your last Promise, you embark in another. Generosity once rais'd,

can make no Stop; and Practice the more exalts the Beauty of it.

Farewell.

Epistle XIII. To Scaurus.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

DEsigning to rehearse a little Speech, which I think to publish, I call'd together some Friends, to quicken my Fear; and but few, to prevent Flattery. For I have a double Reason in this previous Communication of my Works; one, to encrease my Concern about them; the other, to admonish me if any thing should escape me, as my own. I succeeded in my Design. Some gave me Advice: I my self made some Remarks and Amendments. So that I have corrected the Book I sent you. You will know the Subject by the Title, the Book it self will explain the rest: which it is now proper for you to be so well acquainted with, as to understand without a Preface. I would know your Opinion of the Whole, and its Parts. I shall be the more inclin'd to keep it private, or bolder in bringing

it to Light, as your Determination shall lead me on either Hand.

Farewell.

Epistle XIV. To Valerian.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

YOU desir'd me, and I have promis'd on your Request, to inform you of the Success of a Charge exhibited by Nepos, against Thuscillus Nominatus. He was brought into Court: He pleaded his own Cause, without the Appearance of any Person against him, For the Deputies of the Vicentins did not only forbear to press him, but favour'd and reliev'd him. The Sum of his Defence, was, That he was not wanting in Fidelity as an Advocate, but in Courage: That he came from his House with a Resolution to plead, and was also visibly present in Court; and retir'd afterwards, as aw'd by the Admonitions of his Friends; for he was advis'd, not so warmly to oppose the Will of a Senator, who did not on this Occasion dispute so much for a Fair, as contend in Favour of his own Credit, Honour,

and Dignity; especially before the House. This was, indeed, true; but not favourably receiv'd by many. To this he added, Supplications, and abundance of Tears. And really, in the whole Pleading, practis'd as he was in the Art of Speaking, he endeavour'd to appear more with the Air of a Petitioner, than an Advocate; for this was more insinuating and more sure. He was acquitted by the Suffrage of Afranius Dexter, design'd Consul; and this was the Substance of his Absolution: “That Nominatus would indeed have acted better, had he carry'd on the Cause of the Vicentins with the same Spirit as he begun it; yet, since he did not commit this Fault with an unfair Design, and was not prov'd to have incurr'd any Crime that deserv'd a publick Censure, he ought to be discharg'd, on his restoring to the Vicentins, what he had receiv'd from them.” All agreed to this except Flavius Aper; he was of Opinion, that he should be suspended the Office of an Advocate, during the Space of five Years; and tho' his Authority drew in no Second, yet he persisted in his Judgment. Nay, he oblig'd Dexter, who was the first that gave a different Vote, on alledging the Law about holding the Senate, to swear, that what he thought, was beneficial to the Commonwealth: Several Persons oppos'd this, though a Just Proposition: For it seem'd to tax him, who gave the first Opinion, with Corruption. But before the Voices were gather'd, Nigrinus, a Tribune of the People, made a strong and eloquent Remonstrance; in which he complain'd, that Pleadings, and even the Prevarications of them were set to Sale; that Law-Suits were a meer Trade; and that instead of Glory and Reputation alone, great a constant Revenues arose from the Spoils of the Citizens. He produc'd the Heads of Laws, and quoted Acts of the Senate: And at the Close, made a Motion, that an Address should be made to the Emperor, to remedy such Abuses himself, since the Laws and Decrees of the Senate were trampled upon. This was done in a few Days, and the Edict of the Emperor was severe, and yet moderate. I refer you to the Reading of it in the Publick Records. What a Pleasure is it to me, that I have not only kept clear in my Pleadings, not only of clandestine Bargains, Gifts, Presents, but even the Offers of my Friends! Indeed a Man ought to avoid what is dishonest, not so much as it is unlawful, as because it is shameful; yet, it is agreeable to see a Thing publickly prohibited, which a Man has never allow'd himself to Practice. Perhaps, nay, undoubtedly, there will be less Honour and Reputation in this Proceeding of mine, when all shall do out of Necessity, what I acted in a voluntary Manner. In the mean time, I enjoy a Pleasure, when some call me Fortuneteller, and others often tel me, by way of Railery and Joke, that they have disappointed my Avarice and Rapine.

Farewell.

Epistle XV. To Pontius.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I Had made a Retreat to my Native Town, where I receiv'd the News, that Cornutus Tertullus had assum'd the Care of the Æmilian Way. My Joy was unexpressible, both upon his Account and my own. On his, that tho' he is perfectly free from Ambition, yet an Advancement conferr'd upon him without his Application, ought to be pleasing to him; on my own, because I am more delighted with bearing that Office, when I find the same is in the Hands of Cornutus. For it is not more agreeable to be promoted, than it is to be set on a Level with Good Men in Posts of Honour. Now, who can be possess'd of greater Goodness, of more Integrity,

than Cornutus? Who is more exactly form'd upon the Model of the Antient Manners, in all kinds of Virtue? This I have known, not by his Fame only, (which is otherwise the best and most meritorious) but by long and sensible Experience. Our Friendship is, and has been the same to all of distinguish'd Worth in either Sex, whom our Age has produc'd; and this Partnership of Acquaintance has link'd us in the closest Union. This has been enforc'd by the Ties of publick Correspondence; he was my Collegue, as you well know, in the Direction of the Treasury, as if he had been plac'd there to answer my Wishes. He was my Fellow-Consul. Then I entirely saw the Character and Greatness of the Man; when I obey'd him as a Master, and rever'd him as a Father: A Respect to which he was entitled, not so much for his Advance in Years, as in Life. Upon this Foundation, I congratulate both him and my self, on a publick, as well as a private Reason, that at last, Men do not come to Danger as formerly, but to Honour by their Virtue. My Epistle would be endless, should I give a loose to my Joy. I am previously engag'd to take some Notice of my Business, when the News came to me. I was in Company with my Wife's Grand-father, her Aunt, my long wanted Friends; I was taking a Round about my Estate, was hearing a Variety of Complaints from my Country-People; was reading their Accounts unwillingly, and in a slight Manner, (for I have determined my self to another kind of Reading, to other Papers.) I began to prepare for my Journey; for the Time of my Stage is narrow; and what I hear of Cornutus's Office, reminds me of my own. It is my Wish that your Company will return you back to us about the same Time; that we may lose no Day for Conversation, when I come again to Town.

Farewell.

Epistle XVI. To Marcellinus.

by B. G. Esq;

AT the writing of this, I am in the deepest Concern for our Friend Fundamus, who has lost his Second Daughter: A Young Woman, so delightful! so lovely! as made her worthy, not only of a long Life, but almost Immortality. She had not quite reach'd Fourteen, and had already the Prudence of Age, a decent Gravity, a youthful Sweetness, with a Virgin Modesty. How endearing was her

Love to her Father! How agreeably did she entertain us his Friends! How did she esteem her Nurses, her Masters, her Instructors, according to their several Employments! With what Attention and Judgment did she read! How cautiously did she take her Diversions! With what Temper, with what Patience, and even Constancy, did she bear her last Illness! She follow'd the Prescription of her Physicians! She comforted her Sister, her Father, and as the Strength of her Body decay'd, she supported herself by the Vigour of her Mind! This held to the last, nor did it sink under the Length of her Illness, or the Apprehension of Death. This Behaviour has left us more and stronger Reasons to desire her Life, and to lament our Loss. Oh sad and untimely Fate! Oh Season of Death most afflicting! She was espoused to a deserving Youth, the Day of Marriage set, the Company invited! How is our Joy chang'd into Mourning? I cannot find Words to express the Shock it gave me, to hear Fundanus himself (for Grief is fruitful in Invention) ordering, that what was to be expended in Cloaths, Ornaments, and Jewels, should now be laid out in Myrrh, Ointments, and Perfumes. He is a Man of Learning and good Sense, as having apply'd himself to Arts and the deepest Studies from his Youth; but how is he at a Loss for the Use of his Philosophy? What he has frequently recommended, he cannot apply to himself. All his Vertue is swallow'd up; he is immers'd in Sorrow: You will forgive, nay, you would commend him, when you consider what he has lost. He has lost a Daughter, that was not less like him in Manners, than in Person! Why, by a wonderful Similitude, represented her whole Father. Therefore, if upon so just an Occasion, you send him any Letter of Consolation, let it not be such, as in a way of Reproof, may attempt to fortify, but soft and humane, for which, Time only can make Way. For as a fresh Wound shrinks at the Touch of the Surgeon, after suffers, and willingly receives Help; so does the Mind reject and refuse Comfort, under the first Impression of Grief, who' it afterwards wants, and submits to, the pressing Advice of Friends.

Epistle XVII. To Spurinna.

by Mr. Henley.

I Am sensible, what a Friend you are to Letters: How greatly you rejoice when Young Men of Distinction perform any Thing worthy of their Ancestors. On this Ground I am the more eager to let you know, that I have been this Day one of the Audience to Calphurnius Piso. He recited an Amorous Poem; the Subject was artful and rich. It was written in elegant Verse, flowing, tender, easy; the Diction, as the matter required, was sublime. For, with great Justness and Variety, he was sometimes elevated, and again more humble; he mix'd the Lofty with the Simple, lesser Beauties with the fuller, the Gay with the Serious, and all with equal Spirit. He recommended these Charms with the sweetest Voice, and that with his Modesty: There was a Blush and a Concern in his Countenance, which are the principal Graces of a Rehearsal. For, I do not know how it is; but Fear is more becoming to a Man of Letters, than Confidence: To speak no more, (tho' I might

be inclin'd to do it, since it is the more graceful in a Youth, and more rare in a Youth of Quality) at the End of his Reading, after a repeated Embrace of him, as the liveliest Mark of Admonition, I exhorted him by my Applauses, to continue as he begun; and hold out that Light to Posterity, which his Ancestors had reach'd forth to himself. I congratulated his excellent Mother, and his Brother; who did as much Honour by his Fraternal Kindness on this Occasion, as the other gain'd by his Eloquence. He express'd his Fear at first, and then his Joy, for his Brother reciting in so conspicuous a manner.

Heaven grant me a frequent Supply of such News to entertain you! For I have a tender Anxiety for the Age, that it be not barren or unfruitful; and am wonderfully desirous, that our Men of Condition should have something else distinguishing in their Houses, besides their Images. Which now seem to me tacitly to praise, to excite, and (which alone is sufficient to the Glory of both of them) to acknowledge these well-deserving Young Gentlemen.

Farewell.

Epistle XVIII. To Macer.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I Am well, because you are so. You have the Conversation of your Lady and your Son with you. You enjoy the Sea and grassy Fountains, the Country, the most delightful Seat in it. For such it must be, since it was the Retreat of Nerva, who was happier there, than when he was most Fortunate after. I follow my Sports and my Studies in my Tuscan Villa; I pursue them now by Turns; and now together; and yet, I cannot, to this very Hour, affirm, whether to take my Game or to Write, be the more difficult Task of the Two.

Farewell.

Epistle XIX. To Paulinus.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I See how tenderly you treat your Servants, which induces me to own to you the more frankly, with what Indulgence I treat my own. I have always in my Thoughts that Passage of Homer,

Gentle he was, and like a Father kind.

And that Expression of our Tongue, the Father of a Family. Were I by Nature more harsh and rugged, the Infirmity of my Freedman Zosimus, would soften me. He has now a Right to the greater Humanity, as he is the more in want of it. He is honest, careful of his Duty, a Man of Letters, and indeed, his Profess'd Art, and as it were, his Title, is that of a Comedian, in which he excels. For he pronounces, with Vigour, Judgment, Propriety, and Grace; and touches the Harp more skilfully than belongs to a Comedian. He likewise reads an Oration, a History, a Poem, so compleatly, that you would think, he had

apply'd himself to nothing else. I have been particular on this Head, to acquaint you how many and agreeably Services this single Man has done me. Add to this my old Respect for him, which Danger it self has heightened. For it is so order'd by Nature, that nothing inflames and raises Love to that Degree, as the Fear of losing the Object of it, a Passion which I often feel for Zosimus. For some Years ago, while he was pronouncing with Force and Vehemence, he made a Discharge of Blood from his Mouth; and when I had sent him into Ægypt on this Account, and he was recover'd after a long Travel, he lately return'd. And after this, on straining his Voice too far, for many Days successively, a slight Cough threatened him with a Relapse, and soon after, the same Emission of Blood was renew'd. For this Reason I have determined to send him to your Farm-house at Friuli; for I have frequently heard you speaking, that the Air of that Place is very wholsome, and the Milk it produces is extremely proper in Cures of this Nature. I would desire you therefore to send Word to your People there, that he may have a free Command of the House and Conveniencies about it; and be supply'd for all Expences that Occasion may require; as his Necessities will be very moderate: For he is so temperate and sober, that he does not only decline the Comforts, but the Necessities due to an ill State of Health, by his Frugality. I will furnish him in order to his Journey, with as much as is sufficient to a moderate Man, and one that is repairing to your House.

Farewell.

Epistle XX. To Ursus.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

SOON after the Bithynians had laid their Accusation against Julius Bassus, they form'd another against Rufus Varenus, the Proconsul; the same Varenus whom they had lately demanded and accepted as their Advocate, in Opposition to Bassus. When they came into the House, they mov'd for an Enquiry; then Varenus petition'd, that he might Summon up the proper Evidence for his Defence: On a Refusal of the Bithynians, he was oblig'd to enter his Plea. I defended Varenus, not without Success; but whether deservedly or not, the Work it self will inform you; for a Cause is influenc'd by Fortune on either Side: The Memory, the Gesture, the Pronunciation, the Juncture it self, in short,

the Love or Hatred of the Person accus'd, either give or take away a great Share of Commendation. But a Plea in the Reading is not attended with those Disgusts, or that Favour; it is free from those lucky or unfortunate Chances. I was answer'd by Fontejus Magius, one of the Bithynians, with a Plenty of Words, but a Penury of Sense. It is the Practice of most of the Greeks, to use a volubility for a copiousness of Speech; they whirl their Periods so long and so stiff, with one Breath, like a Torrent. Therefore Julius Candidus is us'd to say agreeably enough, That Eloquence is one thing, and Speaking another. For Eloquence is scarcely the Lot of one or two Men; nay, if we may believe Marc Antony, of none: But that which Candidus calls easiness of Speaking, is the Talent of many, and chiefly of the most assur'd. The next Day, Homulus spoke for Varenus, with Address, Force, and Correctness: He was oppos'd by Nigrinus closely, weightily, and floridly. Acilius Rufus, design'd Consul, thought an Information was to be allow'd to the Bythynians, but pass'd over the Demand of Varenus in Silence. This was a Method of giving a Negative upon it. Cornelius Priscus a Consular Man, would have the Proposition of both Parties equally satisfy'd; and he out number'd the rest. We carry'd our Point, that had neither fallen under any Law, nor was very usual, and yet reasonable. Why it is so, my Letter shall not explain; that you may be more impatient to expect the Pleading it self. For if what Homer affirms be true,

The newest Song procures the best Applause,

I ought to be cautious with you, that I do not take off that Grace and Flower of Novelty, that is the Recommendation of my Pleading, by the Lavishness of my Epistle.

Farewell.

Epistle XXI. To Rufus.

by the Same. [Mr. Henley.]

I Went down to the Julian Court, to hear those Advocates, whom I was oblig'd by the last Adjournment to answer. The Judges had taken their Seats; the Centumviri were enter'd; the Advocates were plac'd in View; there was a long Silence, and at last, a Messenger from the Prætor. The Centumviri are dismiss'd; the day is discharg'd of Law Affairs, to my great Satisfaction, who am never so

readily prepar'd, as not to be pleas'd with a Delay. The Cause of this Discharge was Nepos the Prætor, who proceeds severely by the Laws in the Cognizance of Causes. He put out a short Edict, and reminded both the Plantiff and Defendant, that he would execute the Act of Senate. This Decree of the House was subjoin'd to the Edict.

That all, whatever Process they carry'd on, shou'd be commanded to swear before the Plea, that they gave, promis'd, or engag'd nothing to any Person for his acting as Advocate.

For all were prohibited by these and a great Number of other Expressions, either to buy or fell an Advocation. Yet after the Process was terminated, they were allow'd to give only a Summ of 10000 Sesterces. The Prætor who presides over the Centumviri, alarm'd at this Step of Nepos, gave us a Dismission, in order to deliberate, whether he should follow a Precedent he did not expect before. In the mean time, the Edict of Nepos is both blam'd and applauded, all over the Town. Many objected, “We have met with some that have redress'd a Mismanagement; What! Have there been no Prætors before this Fellow? Who is he, that pretends to correct the Publick Proceedings?” Others on the contrary alledg'd, “That he was much to be commended for this opening of his Office; He was

acquainted with the Laws, had read the Decrees of the Senate; and thus quells the vile Method of Trafficking for Law; does not allow the most Honourable of all Things to be expos'd to Sale.” This is the Talk every where; the Event will decide it on either Hand of the Question. It is perfectly unjust, but very much in practice, that fair, or ill Measures are approv'd or condemn'd, as they succeed or miscarry. Hence it is, that commonly the same Actions receive the Name, sometimes of Diligence, sometimes of Vanity, Freedom, or Madness.