Epistle I. To Calvisius.
by
Mr. Henley.
[_]
On the Life of a chearful old Friend.
I Cannot reflect upon a more delightful Scene than I lately enjoy'd with
Spurinna; so far, that I do not know a Man I should be more desirous to emulate in old Age,
if I should happen to reach it. For nothing can be more formal than that kind of Life;
and I own, I
am equally pleas'd with the regular Lives of Men, especially those in advanc'd Years,
as with the certain Course of the Stars: In Youth a little Confusion,
and as it were a Disorder, is not unbecoming; but all that is smooth and orderly is most proper to the ages,
in whom Industry would be too late, and Ambition Infamous.
Spurinna
constantly observes this Rule; and besides, he brings these small Matters (small,
were they not daily repeated,) round in a kind of Circle, with great Exactness.
In the Morning he keeps his Bed, till he dresses, two Hours after Sun-rise,
takes a Walk of three Miles, and gives Exercise to his Mind, as well as Body.
If his Friends be with him, the best Conversation is open'd; if not, a Book is read;
even sometimes when they are Present, if they be not disinclin'd to it.
Then he sits down, and again something is read, or Talk is begun, as either is most agreeable.
Presently after he mounts his Chariot, and takes his Spouse along with him;
a Lady of a singular good Character, or one of his Friends, as my self on the last Opportunity of that Nature.
How beautiful and charming is that Retreat! What Antiquity, History, Characters,
one hears in it! What Lessons do you receive? Tho' his Modesty gives that Temper to the Discourse,
that he does not seem to dictate at all. After we have taken a Range of seven Miles,
again he walks a Mile; then takes his Chair, or returns
to his Chamber, and sets himself to writing. For he writes both in
Greek and
Latin, but is the greatest Master in the Lyric Way.
The sweetness, ease and gaiety of his Productions, is wonderful; and the Character of the Writer adds a Grace to them.
When he is told the Bath-Hour, which in winter is Nine, in Summer, Eight,
he walks naked in the Sun-shine, if the Air be still. Then he diverts himself at Tennis for a good while with Vigour;
for this is an Exercise that struggles with Age. After the Bathing is over,
he takes his Coach, but delays the Meal for some time; and in the Interval,
hears something read, that is more Amusing and Pleasant. In all this Course his Friends have the liberty either to pursue the same,
or another Method, as they judge proper. Then Supper is set upon the Table,
in a frugal, and yet an elegant Manner, all in Plate, that is ancient,
and of the Standard. Some of the Equipage to his Table is
Corinthian;
he is pleas'd but not much smitten with it. His Supper is often distinguish'd by Recitals of the Comedians, to give his very Pleasures a seasoning of Study.
His Supper takes up a Part of the Night, even in Summer. This is not tedious to any,
the Treat is so genteely prolong'd. Hence he preserves his Sight and Hearing so entire,
after Seventy Seven: His Body hale and sprightly, and a cautious Way of Living,
in which
he is only directed by his Age. I run forward to this Method in my Thought and Wishes,
and should be very fond to enter upon it, as soon as Time begins to sound my Retreat:
Till then, I am wearing amidst a thousand Fatigues, in which this same
Spurinna is a Support, and a Pattern to me. For he also, as far as has consisted with his Honour,
has serv'd a Variety of Offices; gone through several Posts in the Government;
has had the Command of Provinces, and has earn'd his present Quiet with immense Labour.
Therefore I prescribe the same Course and Bound to my self, and I now set my Hand to it,
before you, That if you find I pass by this Limit, you may appeal to this Letter,
and enjoyn me, in vertue of these Presents, to be easy, as soon as I may stand clear of the Charge of Supineness and Inaction.
