Imaginary Conversations and Poems: A Selection
should be less able to express it.
_Seneca._ You have formed at present no idea of style.
_Epictetus._ I never think about it. First, I consider whether what I
am about to say is true; then, whether I can say it with brevity, in
such a manner as that others shall see it as clearly as I do in the
light of truth; for, if they survey it as an ingenuity, my desire is
ungratified, my duty unfulfilled. I go not with those who dance round
the image of Truth, less out of honour to her than to display their
agility and address.
_Seneca._ We must attract the attention of readers by novelty, and
force, and grandeur of expression.
_Epictetus._ We must. Nothing is so grand as truth, nothing so
forcible, nothing so novel.
_Seneca._ Sonorous sentences are wanted to awaken the lethargy of
indolence.
_Epictetus._ Awaken it to what? Here lies the question; and a weighty
one it is. If thou awakenest men where they can see nothing and do no
work, it is better to let them rest: but will not they, thinkest thou,
look up at a rainbow, unless they are called to it by a clap of
thunder?
_Seneca._ Your early youth, Epictetus, has been, I will not say
neglected, but cultivated with rude instruments and unskilful hands.
_Epictetus._ I thank God for it. Those rude instruments have left the
turf lying yet toward the sun; and those unskilful hands have plucked
out the docks.
_Seneca._ We hope and believe that we have attained a vein of
eloquence, brighter and more varied than has been hitherto laid open
to the world.
_Epictetus._ Than any in the Greek?
_Seneca._ We trust so.
_Epictetus._ Than your Cicero's?
_Seneca._ If the declaration may be made without an offence to
modesty. Surely, you cannot estimate or value the eloquence of that
noble pleader?
_Epictetus._ Imperfectly, not being born in Italy; and the noble
pleader is a much less man with me than the noble philosopher. I
regret that, having farms and villas, he would not keep his distance
from the pumping up of foul words against thieves, cut-throats, and
other rogues; and that he lied, sweated, and thumped his head and
thighs, in behalf of those who were no better.
_Seneca._ Senators must have clients, and must protect them.
_Epictetus._ Innocent or guilty?
_Seneca._ Doubtless.
_Epictetus._ If I regret what is and might not be, I may regret more
what both is and must be. However, it is an amiable thing, and no
small merit in the wealthy, even to trifle and play at their leisure
hours with philosophy. It cannot be expected that such a personage
should espouse her, or should recommend her as an inseparable mate to
his heir.
_Seneca._ I would.
_Epictetus._ Yes, Seneca, but thou hast no son to make the match for;
and thy recommendation, I suspect, would be given him before he could
consummate the marriage. Every man wishes his sons to be philosophers
while they are young; but takes especial care, as they grow older, to
teach them its insufficiency and unfitness for their intercourse with
mankind. The paternal voice says: 'You must not be particular; you are
about to have a profession to live by; follow those who have thriven
the best in it.' Now, among these, whatever be the profession, canst
thou point out to me one single philosopher?
_Seneca._ Not just now; nor, upon reflection, do I think it feasible.
_Epictetus._ Thou, indeed, mayest live much to thy ease and
satisfaction with philosophy, having (they say) two thousand talents.
_Seneca._ And a trifle to spare--pressed upon me by that godlike
youth, my pupil Nero.
_Epictetus._ Seneca! where God hath placed a mine, He hath placed the
materials of an earthquake.
_Seneca._ A true philosopher is beyond the reach of Fortune.
_Epictetus._ The false one thinks himself so. Fortune cares little
about philosophers; but she remembers where she hath set a rich man,
and she laughs to see the Destinies at his door.
PETER THE GREAT AND ALEXIS
_Peter._ And so, after flying from thy father's house, thou hast
returned again from Vienna. After this affront in the face of Europe,
thou darest to appear before me?
_Alexis._ My emperor and father! I am brought before your Majesty, not
at my own desire.
_Peter._ I believe it well.
_Alexis._ I would not anger you.
_Peter._ What hope hadst thou, rebel, in thy flight to Vienna?
_Alexis._ The hope of peace and privacy; the hope of security; and,
above all things, of never more offending you.
_Peter._ That hope thou hast accomplished. Thou imaginedst, then, that
my brother of Austria would maintain thee at his court--speak!
_Alexis._ No, sir! I imagined that he would have afforded me a place
of refuge.
_Peter._ Didst thou, then, take money with thee?
_Alexis._ A few gold pieces.
_Peter._ How many?
_Alexis._ About sixty.
_Peter._ He would have given thee promises for half the money; but the
double of it does not purchase a house, ignorant wretch!
_Alexis._ I knew as much as that: although my birth did not appear to
destine me to purchase a house anywhere; and hitherto your liberality,
my father, hath supplied my wants of every kind.
_Peter._ Not of wisdom, not of duty, not of spirit, not of courage,
not of ambition. I have educated thee among my guards and horses,
among my drums and trumpets, among my flags and masts. When thou wert
a child, and couldst hardly walk, I have taken thee into the arsenal,
though children should not enter according to regulations: I have
there rolled cannon-balls before thee over iron plates; and I have
shown thee bright new arms, bayonets and sabres; and I have pricked
the back of my hands until the blood came out in many places; and I
have made thee lick it; and I have then done the same to thine.
Afterward, from thy tenth year, I have mixed gunpowder in thy grog; I
have peppered thy peaches; I have poured bilge-water (with a little
good wholesome tar in it) upon thy melons; I have brought out girls to
mock thee and cocker thee, and talk like mariners, to make thee
braver. Nothing would do. Nay, recollect thee! I have myself led thee
forth to the window when fellows were hanged and shot; and I have
shown thee every day the halves and quarters of bodies; and I have
sent an orderly or chamberlain for the heads; and I have pulled the
cap up from over the eyes; and I have made thee, in spite of thee,
look steadfastly upon them, incorrigible coward!
And now another word with thee about thy scandalous flight from the
palace, in time of quiet, too! To the point! Did my brother of Austria
invite thee? Did he, or did he not?
_Alexis._ May I answer without doing an injury or disservice to his
Imperial Majesty?
_Peter._ Thou mayest. What injury canst thou or any one do, by the
tongue, to such as he is?
_Alexis._ At the moment, no; he did not. Nor indeed can I assert that
he at any time invited me; but he said he pitied me.
_Peter._ About what? hold thy tongue; let that pass. Princes never
pity but when they would make traitors: then their hearts grow
tenderer than tripe. He pitied thee, kind soul, when he would throw
thee at thy father's head; but finding thy father too strong for him,
he now commiserates the parent, laments the son's rashness and
disobedience, and would not make God angry for the world. At first,
however, there must have been some overture on his part; otherwise
thou are too shamefaced for intrusion. Come--thou hast never had wit
enough to lie--tell me the truth, the whole truth.
_Alexis._ He said that if ever I wanted an asylum, his court was open
to me.
_Peter._ Open! so is the tavern; but folks pay for what they get
there. Open, truly! and didst thou find it so?
_Alexis._ He received me kindly.
_Peter._ I see he did.
_Alexis._ Derision, O my father! is not the fate I merit.
_Peter._ True, true! it was not intended.
_Alexis._ Kind father! punish me then as you will.
_Peter._ Villain! wouldst thou kiss my hand, too? Art thou ignorant
that the Austrian threw thee away from him, with the same indifference
as he would the outermost leaf of a sandy sunburnt lettuce?
_Alexis._ Alas! I am not ignorant of this.
_Peter._ He dismissed thee at my order. If I had demanded from him his
daughter, to be the bedfellow of a Kalmuc, he would have given her,
and praised God.
_Alexis._ O father! is his baseness my crime?
_Peter._ No; thine is greater. Thy intention, I know, is to subvert
the institutions it has been the labour of my lifetime to establish.
Thou hast never rejoiced at my victories.
_Alexis._ I have rejoiced at your happiness and your safety.
_Peter._ Liar! coward! traitor! when the Polanders and Swedes fell
before me, didst thou from thy soul congratulate me? Didst thou get
drunk at home or abroad, or praise the Lord of Hosts and Saint
Nicholas? Wert thou not silent and civil and low-spirited?
_Alexis._ I lamented the irretrievable loss of human life; I lamented
that the bravest and noblest were swept away the first; that the
gentlest and most domestic were the earliest mourners; that frugality
was supplanted by intemperance; that order was succeeded by confusion;
and that your Majesty was destroying the glorious plans you alone were
capable of devising.
_Peter._ I destroy them! how? Of what plans art thou speaking?
_Alexis._ Of civilizing the Muscovites. The Polanders in part were
civilized: the Swedes, more than any other nation on the Continent;
and so excellently versed were they in military science, and so
courageous, that every man you killed cost you seven or eight.
_Peter._ Thou liest; nor six. And civilized, forsooth? Why, the robes
of the metropolitan, him at Upsal, are not worth three ducats, between
Jew and Livornese. I have no notion that Poland and Sweden shall be
the only countries that produce great princes. What right have they to
such as Gustavus and Sobieski? Europe ought to look to this before
discontents become general, and the people do to us what we have the
privilege of doing to the people. I am wasting my words: there is no
arguing with positive fools like thee. So thou wouldst have desired me
to let the Polanders and Swedes lie still and quiet! Two such powerful
nations!
_Alexis._ For that reason and others I would have gladly seen them
rest, until our own people had increased in numbers and prosperity.
_Peter._ And thus thou disputest my right, before my face, to the
exercise of the supreme power.
_Alexis._ Sir! God forbid!
_Peter._ God forbid, indeed! What care such villains as thou art what
God forbids! He forbids the son to be disobedient to the father; He
forbids--He forbids--twenty things. I do not wish, and will not have,
a successor who dreams of dead people.
_Alexis._ My father! I have dreamed of none such.
_Peter._ Thou hast, and hast talked about them--Scythians, I think,
they call 'em. Now, who told thee, Mr. Professor, that the Scythians
were a happier people than we are; that they were inoffensive; that
they were free; that they wandered with their carts from pasture to
pasture, from river to river; that they traded with good faith; that
they fought with good courage; that they injured none, invaded none,
and feared none? At this rate I have effected nothing. The great
founder of Rome, I heard in Holland, slew his brother for despiting
the weakness of his walls; and shall the founder of this better place
spare a degenerate son, who prefers a vagabond life to a civilized
one, a cart to a city, a Scythian to a Muscovite? Have I not shaved my
people, and breeched them? Have I not formed them into regular armies,
with bands of music and haversacks? Are bows better than cannon?
shepherds than dragoons, mare's milk than brandy, raw steaks than
broiled? Thine are tenets that strike at the root of politeness and