go, and he goeth, and unto another, do this, and he goeth, and unto another, do this, and he doeth it, — and whatsoever his soul lusteth after of this kind, he withholds not from it. When every thing is thus planned by himself, and executed according to his wish and direction, surely he is arrived to the accomplishment of his wishes, and has got to she summit of all human happiness? Let the most fortunate adventurers in this way, answer the question for him, and say how I often it rises higher than a hare and simple amusement and well, if you can compound for that since 'tis often purchased at so high a price, and so soured by a mixture of other incidental vexations, as to become too often a work of repentance, which in the end will extort the same sorrowful confession from him, which it did from Solomon, in the like case, Lo! I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do and behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit and there was no profit to me under the sun.

To inflame this account the more 'twill be no miracle, if upon casting it up he has gone farther lengths than he * first intended, run into expences which have intangled his fortune, and brought himself into such difficulties as to make way for the last experiment he can try and that is, to turn miser, with no happiness in view but what is to rise out of the little designs of a sordid mind, set upon saving and scraping up, all he has injudiciously spent.

In this last stage behold him a poor trembling wretch, shut up from all mankind — sinking into utter contempt; spending careful days and sleepless nights in pursuit of what' a narrow and contracted heart can never enjoy: and let us here leave him to the conviction he will one day find That there is no end of his labour never be satisfied with riches, or will say For whom do I labour and bereave myself of rest? This is also a sore travel.

That his eyes will

I believe this is no uncommon picture of the disappointments of human life and the manner our pleasures and enjoyments slip from under us in every stage of our life. And though I would not be thought by it, as if I was denying the reality of pleasures, or disputing the being of them, any more, than one would the reality of pain yet I must observe on this head, that there is a plain distinction to be

made betwixt pleasure and happiness. For though there can be no happiness without pleasure yet the reverse of the proposition will not hold true. We are so made, that from the common gratifications of our appetites, and the impressions of a thousand objects, we snatch the one like a transient gleam, without being suffered to taste the other, and enjoy the perpetual sunshine and fair weather which constantly attend it. This, I contend, is only to be found in religion — in the consciousness of virtue — and the sure and certain hopes of a better life, which brightens all our prospects, and leaves no room to dread disappointments because the expectation of it is build upon a rock, whose foundations are as deep as those of heaven and hell.

some

And tho' in our pilgrimage through this world. of us may be so fortunate as to meet with some clear fountains by the way, that may cool, for a few moments, the heat of this great thirst of happiness yet, our Saviour, who knew the world, though he enjoyed but little of it, tells us, that whosoever drinketh of this water will thirst again: and we all find by experience it is so, and by reason that it always must be $0.

I conclude with a short observation upon Solomon's evidence in this case.

Never did the busy brain of a lean and hectic chemist search for the philosopher's stone with more pains and ardour than this great man did after happiness. —- He was one of the wisest enquirers into nature - had tried all her powers and capacities, and after a thousand vain speculations and vile experiments, he affirmed at length, it lay hid in no one thing he had tried like the chemist's projections all had ended in smoak or, what was worse, in vanity and vexation of spirit: The conclusion of the whole matter was this that he advises every man who would be happy, to fear God and keep his commandments.

-

1.

GRAY.

TROMAS

GRAY, 1716 zu Cornhill geboren, und zu Eton erzogen, ging₤1734, um die Rechte zu studiren, nach Cam

zu

bridge, und nachdem er sich daselbst 5 Jahr aufgehalten hatte, mit Horace Walpole nach Frankreich und Italien. In Florenz zerfiel er mit seinem Gefährten, worauf er seine Reise allein fortsetzte*), 1741 kam er nach England zurück, und hielt sich von nun an unun an ununterbrochen als Privaan Cambridge auf. Seit 1742 beschäftigte er sich ernstlich mit der Poesie; in diesem Jahre erschien nämlich die Ode to the Spring, the prospect of Eton, und die Ode to Adversity; auch fing er um diese Zeit ein lateinisches Gedicht de principiis cogitandi an. 1747 schrieb er eine Ode on the Death of Mr. Walpole's favourite cat, und 1750 das berühmtë Gedicht Elegy written in a country church-yard. 1757 folgten the Progress of poetry und the Bard, zwei Oden, die trotz allem, was Johnson daran zu tadeln weifs, zu den schönsten in dieser Gattung gehören. 1768 ward ihm die Stelle eines Professors der neuern Geschichte zu Cambridge angetragen. Er nahm sie dn, starb aber nicht lange darauf (1771), ohne sin Collegium gelesen zu haben. Er war ein Mann von eben so viel Geschmack als Gelehrsamkeit, wie seine Gedichte und Briefe beweiseni Letztere, die sich besonders durch eine ganz borzüglich leichté und fliefsende Schreibart empfehlen, und, was sie um so schätzbarer macht, ohne die entfernteste Absicht einer öffent→ lichen Bekanntmachung geschrieben wurden, hat sein Freund und Biograph William Mason unter dem Titel poems of Mr. Gray, to which are added memoirs of his life and writings, by W. Mason in four Volumes, York 1778.8, herausgegeben.

*) Der Verfasser der Biographie Walpole's erzählt die Ur sache der Trennung dieser beiden Männer folgendergestalt i „‚Als sie nach Reggio gekommen waren, kam das schon früher entstandene Mifsvernehmen zwischen beiden Freunden zum völligen Bruch. Walpole nahm zuweilen gegen seinen ärmern, und darum abhängigern Reisegefährten eine vornehme Miene an. Gray war schon damals ein melancholischer Schwärmer, Walpole stets aufgeräumt und witzig, und auch dies wurde eine Ursache ihrer Trennung Gray ging den kürzesten und wohlfeilsten Weg über Frankreich nach Hause. Im folgenden Jahre kam auch Walpole zurück. Beide söhnten sich durch die Dazwischenkunft einer gemeinschaftlichen Freundinn aus; doch hinterliefs diese Wunde auf immer eine Narbe, und als Gray starb, vermachte er an Walpole kein Andenken in seinem Testament. Walpole nahm indessen alle Schuld des Mifsverhältnisses ganz allein auf sich, druckte in seiner eigenen Drukkerei die erste glänzende Ausgabe von Gray's Gedichten 1757 in Fol,, und ehrte sein Andenken bei jeder Gelegenheit.”

Die Gedichte, deren Anzahl klein ist, sind von Johnson (Lives etc. Vol, IV.) zu kalt, und mitunter unbillig beurtheilt worden. Nur der Elegie auf den Dorfkirchhof läfst dieser Kritiker vällige Gerechtigkeit wiederfahren, Had Gray written often thus, heifst es S. 476, it had been vain to blame, and useless to praise him, Man hat eine prachtvolle Ausgabe der Grayschen Gedichte, welche 1768 zu Glasgow in 4. erschienen ist. Gilbert, Wakefield edirte sie Cambridge 1786. 8. mit Noten. Sie nehmen übrigens einen Theil des 5osten Bandes der Johnsonschen Sammlung ein. Vergl. den 2ten Theil dieses Handbuchsr

1) To #18 MOTHER,

Turin, Nov. 7. 1739.

I am this night arrived here, and have just set down to rest

me after eight days tiresome journey, For the three first we had the same road we before passed through to go to Geneva; the fourth we turned out of it, and for that day and the next travelled rather among than upon the Alps; the way commonly running through a deep valley by the side of the river Are, which works itself a passage, with great difficulty and a mighty noise, among vast quantities of rocks, that have rolled down from the mountain tops, The winter was so far advanced, as in "great measure to spoil the beauty of the prospect; however, there was still somewhat fine remaining amidst the savageness and horrour of the place, The sixth we began to go up several of these mountains; and as we were passing one, met with an odd accident enough. Mr. Walpole had a little fat black spaniel, that he was very fond of, which he sometimes used to set down, and let it run by the chaise side. We were at that time in a very rough road, not two yards broad at most; on one side was a great wood of pines, and on the other a vast precipice; it was noonday, and the sun shone bright, when all of a sudden, from the wood-side, (which was as steep upwards, as the other part was downwards) out rushed a great wolf, came close to the head of the horses, seized the dog by the throat, and rushed up the hill again with him in his mouth. This was done in less than a quarter of a minute; we all saw it, Tand yet the servants had not time to draw their pistols, or do any thing to save the dog. If he had not been there, and the

creature had thought fit to lay hold of one of the horses, chaise and we, and all must inevitably have tumbled above fifty fathoms perpendicular down the precipice. The seventh we came to Lanebourg, the last town in Savoy; it lies at the foot of the famous mount Cenis, which is so situated as to allow no room for any way but over the very top of it. Here the chaise was forced to be pulled to pieces, and the bagage and that to be carried by mules. We ourselves were wrapped up in our furs, and seated upon a sort of matted chair without legs, which is carried upon poles in the manner of a bier, and so begun to ascend by the help of eight men. It was six miles to the top, where a plain opens itself about as many more in breadth, covered perpetually with very deep snow, and in the midst of that a great lake of unfathomable depth, from whence a river takes its rise, and tumbles over monstruous rocks quite down the other side of the mountain. The descent is six miles more, but infinitely more steep than the going up; and here the men perfectly fly down with you, stepping from stone to stone with incredible, swiftness in places where none but they could go three paces without falling. The immensity of the precipices, the roaring of the river and torrents that run into it, the huge craggs covered with ice and snow, and the clouds below you and about you, are objects it is impossible to conceive without seeing them; and though we had heard many strange descriptions of the scene, none of them at all came up to it. We were but five hours in performing the whole, from which you may judge of the rapidity of the mens' motion. We are now got into Piedmont, and stopped a little while at La Ferriere, a small village about three quarters of the way down, but still among the clouds, when we began to hear a new language spoken round about us; at last we got quite down, went through the Pas de Suse, a narrow road among the Alps, defended by two fortresses, and lay at Bussolens, Next evening through a fine avenue of nine miles in length, as straight as a line, we arrived at this city, which, as you know, is the capital of the principality, and the residence of the king of Sardinia. We shall stay here, I believe, a fortnight, and proceed for Genoa, which is three or four days journey to go post.