Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 9

Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Asia whirl'd; For such the steady Romans shook the world; For such, in distant lands, the Britons shine, And stain with blood the Danube or the Rhine; This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm, Till fame supplies the universal charm.

Yet reason frowns on war's unequal game, Where wasted nations raise a single name; And mortgag'd states, their grandsires' wreaths regret.

From age to age in everlasting debt; Wreaths which, at last, the dear-bought right convey To rust on medals, or on stones decay.

[u]On what foundation stands the warriour's pride, How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labours tire; [x]O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; No joys to him pacifick sceptres yield, War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; Behold surrounding kings their pow'rs combine, And one capitulate, and one resign; Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; "Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till nought remain, On Moscow's walls till Gothick standards fly, And all be mine beneath the polar sky."

The march begins in military state, And nations on his eye suspended wait; Stern famine guards the solitary coast, And winter barricades the realm of frost; He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay;-- Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa's day: The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, And shows his miseries in distant lands; Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait, While ladies interpose, and slaves debate.

But did not chance, at length, her errour mend?

Did no subverted empire mark his end?

Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound?

Or hostile millions press him to the ground?

His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.

[y]All times their scenes of pompous woes afford, From Persia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord.

In gay hostility and barb'rous pride, With half mankind embattl'd at his side, Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain prey, And starves exhausted regions in his way; Attendant flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er, Till counted myriads sooth his pride no more; Fresh praise is try'd till madness fires his mind, The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind, New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still bestow'd, Till rude resistance lops the spreading G.o.d; The daring Greeks deride the martial show, And heap their valleys with the gaudy foe; Th' insulted sea, with humbler thoughts, he gains; A single skiff to speed his flight remains; Th' inc.u.mber'd oar scarce leaves the dreaded coast Through purple billows and a floating host.

The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour, Tries the dread summits of Caesarean pow'r, With unexpected legions bursts away, And sees defenceless realms receive his sway;-- Short sway! fair Austria spreads her mournful charms, The queen, the beauty, sets the world in arms; From hill to hill the beacon's rousing blaze Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praise; The fierce Croatian, and the wild Hussar, [z]With all the sons of ravage, crowd the war; The baffled prince, in honour's flatt'ring bloom Of hasty greatness, finds the fatal doom, His foes' derision, and his subjects' blame, And steals to death from anguish and from shame.

[aa]Enlarge my life with mult.i.tude of days!

In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays; Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know, That life protracted is protracted woe.

Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, And shuts up all the pa.s.sages of joy; In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r; With listless eyes the dotard views the store, He views, and wonders that they please no more; Now pall the tasteless meats, and joyless wines, And luxury with sighs her slave resigns.

Approach, ye minstrels, try the soothing strain, [bb]Diffuse the tuneful lenitives of pain: No sounds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear, Though dancing mountains witness'd Orpheus near; Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend, Nor sweeter musick of a virtuous friend; But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue, Perversely grave, or positively wrong.

The still returning tale, and ling'ring jest, Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest, While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring sneer, And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear; The watchful guests still hint the last offence; The daughter's petulance, the son's expense, Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill, And mould his pa.s.sions till they make his will.

Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade; But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains, And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.

But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime; [cc]An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, And glides in modest innocence away; Whose peaceful day benevolence endears, Whose night congratulating conscience cheers; The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend; Such age there is, and who shall wish its end[dd]?

Yet e'en on this her load misfortune flings, To press the weary minutes' flagging wings; New sorrow rises as the day returns, A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns.

Now kindred merit fills the sable bier, Now lacerated friendship claims a tear; Year chases year, decay pursues decay, Still drops some joy from with'ring life away; New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage, Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage, Till pitying nature signs the last release, And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.

But few there are whom hours like these await, Who set unclouded in the gulfs of fate.

From Lydia's monarch should the search descend, By Solon caution'd to regard his end, In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise!

From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, And Swift expires a driv'ller and a show.

[ee]The teeming mother, anxious for her race, Begs for each birth the fortune of a face; Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring; And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king.

Ye nymphs of rosy lips and radiant eyes, Whom pleasure keeps too busy to be wise; Whom joys with soft varieties invite, By day the frolick, and the dance by night; Who frown with vanity, who smile with art, And ask the latest fashion of the heart; What care, what rules, your heedless charms shall save, Each nymph your rival, and each youth your slave?

Against your fame with fondness hate combines, The rival batters, and the lover mines.

With distant voice neglected virtue calls, Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance falls; Tir'd with contempt, she quits the slipp'ry reign, And pride and prudence take her seat in vain.

In crowd at once, where none the pa.s.s defend, The harmless freedom, and the private friend.

The guardians yield, by force superiour ply'd: To int'rest, prudence; and to flatt'ry, pride.

Here beauty falls, betray'd, despis'd, distress'd, And hissing infamy proclaims the rest.

[ff]Where then shall hope and fear their objects find?

Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?

Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?

Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, No cries invoke the mercies of the skies?

Inquirer, cease; pet.i.tions yet remain Which heav'n may hear; nor deem religion vain.

Still raise for good the supplicating voice, But leave to heav'n the measure and the choice.

Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes discern afar The secret ambush of a specious pray'r; Implore his aid, in his decisions rest, Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best.

Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the skies aspires[gg], Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, Obedient pa.s.sions, and a will resign'd; For love, which scarce collective man can fill; For patience, sov'reign o'er trans.m.u.ted ill; For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, [hh]Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat: These goods for man the laws of heav'n ordain; These goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain; With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find.

FOOTNOTES [a] Ver. 1--11.

[b] Ver. 12--22.

[c] In the first edition, "the _bonny_ traitor!" an evident allusion to the Scotch lords who suffered for the rebellion in 1745.

[d] Clang around.

[e] New fears.

[f] Ver. 23-37.

[g] Yet still the gen'ral cry.

[h] Ver. 28-55.

[i] Ver. 56--107.

[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [j]]

[k] The richest landlord.

[l] Ver. 108--113.

[m] Ver. 114--132.

[n]

_Resistless burns the_ fever of renown, _Caught_ from the strong contagion of the gown.

Mr. Boswell tells us, that when he remarked to Dr. Johnson, that there was an awkward repet.i.tion of the word spreads in this pa.s.sage, he altered it to "Burns from the strong contagion of the gown;" but this expression, it appears, was only resumed from the reading in the first edition.

[o] There is a tradition, that the study of friar Bacon, built on an arch over the bridge, will fall, when a man greater than Bacon shall pa.s.s under it. To prevent so shocking an accident, it was pulled down many years since.

[p] And sloth's _bland_ opiates _shed_ their fumes in vain.

[q] The _garret_ and the gaol.

[r] See Gent. Mag. vol. lxviii. p. 951, 1027.

[s] This was first written, "See, when the vulgar scap_ed_;" but, as the rest of the paragraph was in the present tense, he altered it to scape_s_; but again recollecting that the word _vulgar_ is never used as a singular substantive, he adopted the reading of the text.

[t] Ver. 133--146.

[u] Ver. 147--167.

[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]]

[x] O'er love or _force_.

[y] Ver. 168--187.

[z] _And_ all the sons.

[aa] Ver. 188--288.

[bb] And _yield_.

[cc] An age that melts _in_.

[dd] _Could_ wish its end.

[ee] Ver. 289-345.

[ff] Ver. 346-366.

[gg]

Yet, _with_ the sense of sacred presence _press'd_, _When_ strong devotion _fills thy glowing breast_.

[hh] _Thinks_ death.

PROLOGUE,

SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, AT THE OPENING OF THE THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY LANE, 1747.

When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new: Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting time toil'd after him in vain: His pow'rful strokes presiding truth impress'd, And unresisted pa.s.sion storm'd the breast.

Then Jonson came, instructed from the school To please in method, and invent by rule; His studious patience and laborious art, By regular approach, a.s.sail'd the heart: Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays; For those, who durst not censure, scarce could praise: A mortal born, he met the gen'ral doom, But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb.

The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakespeare's flame: Themselves they studied, as they felt, they writ; Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit; Vice always found a sympathetick friend; They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend.

Yet bards, like these, aspir'd to lasting praise, And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days.

Their cause was gen'ral, their supports were strong; Their slaves were willing, and their reign was long: Till shame regain'd the post that sense betray'd, And virtue call'd oblivion to her aid.

Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd, as refin'd, For years the pow'r of tragedy declin'd; From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, Till declamation roar'd, while pa.s.sion slept; Yet still did virtue deign the stage to tread, Philosophy remain'd, though nature fled.

But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit, She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of wit; Exulting folly hail'd the joyful day, And pantomime and song confirm'd her sway.

But who the coming changes can presage, And mark the future periods of the stage?

Perhaps, if skill could distant times explore, New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store; Perhaps, where Lear has ray'd, and Hamlet dy'd, On flying cars new sorcerers may ride: Perhaps, (for who can guess th' effects of chance?) Here Hunt[a] may box, or Mahomet may dance.

Hard is his lot that, here by fortune plac'd, Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; With ev'ry meteor of caprice must play, And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day.

Ah! let not censure term our fate our choice, The stage but echoes back the publick voice; The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please to live.

Then prompt no more the follies you decry, As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die; 'Tis yours, this night, to bid the reign commence Of rescued nature and reviving sense; To chase the charms of sound, the pomp of show, For useful mirth and salutary woe; Bid scenick virtue form the rising age, And truth diffuse her radiance from the stage.