the court? No doubt, you do. Well, then, let me tell you this -they are all votaries of mine, and whoever wishes to commend himself to them can possess nothing more useless than wisdom, nothing more absolutely damning to all his prospects of success! Again, some of you, probably, would like to get rich. Let me assure you, then, that no trader will ever get rich who puts faith in the sentiments of wisdom. Wisdom says, Avoid perjury, blush to tell a lie, commit no petty thefts, scorn dishonest gains. Such balderdash scruples must be scattered to the winds! Again, perhaps, some of you may be fired with an ambition to get advanced in the church, and to obtain some portion of the spoils and honors that fall to the share of ecclesiastics. Steer clear of wisdom, then, my friends-steer clear of wisdom, or assuredly you will have the mortification to behold many a stupid dolt of a fellow, as witless as a jackass, and with a voice like a bull, passing you on the road to preferment! Some of you, again, it may be, have formed an intention of entering at some time or another of your lives into the condition of matrimony. And a very good intention too. However, a needful caution I must impart to you, and it is this: If you wish to get a wife, mind above all things that you beware of wisdom; for the girls, without exception, are heart and soul so devoted to fools, that you may rely upon it a man who has any wisdom in him they will shun as they would a vampire! But, finally, whoever you are, and whatever may be your plans for the future, you will assuredly all of you regard a life of jollity as an object worthy of your seeking. Keep away then, above everything, from all contact with the wise; never mind what mere low degraded animals the people you consort with may be prefer them to men of wisdom! - And now -to sum up much in a few words. Go amongst what classes of men you will; go amongst popes, princes, judges, magistrates, friends, foes, great men, little men, and you will not fail to discover that a man with plenty of money at his command has it in his power to obtain everything that he sets his heart upon. A wise man, however, despises money. And what is the consequence? Every one despises him! From "The Praise of Folly." JOHN EVELYN (1620-1706) In VELYN'S "Sylva," though perhaps not interesting for its matter except to those who have the great good fortune to love the woods, contains notable examples of the quaintest elaboration of style in essay writing. His celebrated "Diary," while its style is much looser, shows that he knew the secret of handling facts and incidents so as to give them their greatest possible interest. Critics are divided on their theories of his methods as a diarist. Some assert with confidence that "he had no thought of publication"; others are equally confident that after having found the advantage of the diary as a literary subterfuge, he wrote essays, descriptions, and anecdotes, and dated them to suit the subjects dealt with. any event, the "Diary" is a landmark in English literature. Evelyn was born at Wotton in Surrey, October 31st, 1620. After ending his studies at Oxford and in the Temple, he traveled over continental Europe, returning in 1647 to side with the king against Cromwell. When the Royal cause became hopeless, he accepted the situation and retired to Wotton to study the life of the woods and fields. After the Restoration he was a court favorite, and used his influence to promote the work of the Royal Society and for similar purposes, indicating his benevolence and liberality. Besides the "Diary" and the "Sylva," he wrote "The State of France,» «The Character of England," "Fumifugium," "The Garden Calendar,» «The Complete Gardener," and other works which show that he had as an actual and practical fact of his every-day life the tranquillity of soul which philosophers say is the highest object of existence. He died at Wotton, February 27th, 1706. THE IN AND AROUND NAPLES HE next day, being Saturday, we went four miles out of town on mules, to see that famous volcano, Mount Vesuvius. Here we pass a fair fountain, called Labulla, which continually boils, supposed to proceed from Vesuvius, and thence over a river and bridge, where, on a large upright stone, is engraven a notable inscription relative to the memorable eruption in 1630. Approaching the hill, as we were able with our mules, we alighted, crawling up the rest of the proclivity with great difficulty, now with our feet, now with our hands, not without many untoward slips which did much bruise us on the various colored cinders with which the whole mountain is covered, some like pitch, others full of perfect brimstone, others metallic, interspersed with innumerable pumices (of all which I made a collection), we at the last gained the summit of an excessive altitude. Turning our faces towards Naples, it presents one of the goodliest prospects in the world; all the Baiæ, Cuma, Elysian Fields, Capreæ, Ischia, Prochyta, Misenus, Puteoli, that goodly city, with a great portion of the Tyrrhene Sea, offering themselves to your view at once, and at so agreeable a distance, as nothing can be more delightful. The mountain consists of a double top, the one pointed very sharp, and commonly appearing above any clouds, the other blunt. Here, as we approached, we met many large gaping clefts and chasms, out of which issued such sulphureous blasts and smoke, that we durst not stand long near them. Having gained the very summit, I laid myself down to look over into that most frightful and terrible vorago, a stupendous pit of nearly three miles in circuit, and half a mile in depth, by a perpendicular hollow cliff (like that from the highest part of Dover Castle), with now and then a craggy prominency jetting out. The area at the bottom is plane, like an even floor, which seems to be made by the winds circling the ashes by its eddy blasts. In the middle and centre is a hill, shaped like a great brown loaf, appearing to consist of sulphureous matter, continually vomiting a foggy exhalation, and ejecting huge stones with an impetuous noise and roaring, like the report of many muskets discharging. This horrid barathrum engaged our attention for some hours, both for the strangeness of the spectacle and the mention which the old histories make of it, as one of the most stupendous curiosities in nature, and which made the learned and inquisitive Pliny adventure his life to detect the causes, and to lose it in too desperate an approach. It is likewise famous for the stratagem of the rebel, Spartacus, who did so much mischief to the State, lurking amongst, and protected by, these horrid caverns, when it was more accessible and less dangerous than it is now; but especially notorious it is for the last conflagration, when, in anno 1630, it burst out beyond what it had ever done in the memory of history; throwing out huge stones and fiery pumices in such quantity, as not only environed the whole mountain, but totally buried and overwhelmed divers towns and their inhabitants, scattering the ashes more than a hundred miles, and utterly devastating all those vineyards, where formerly grew the most incomparable Greco; when, bursting through the bowels of the earth, it absorbed the very sea, and, with its whirling waters, drew in divers galleys and other vessels to their destruction, as is faithfully recorded. We descended with more ease than we climbed up, through a deep valley of pure ashes, which at the late eruption was a flowing river of melted and burning brimstone, and so came to our mules at the foot of the mountain. On Sunday, we with our guide visited the so much celebrated Baiæ, and natural rarities of the place adjacent. Here we entered the mountain Pausilypus, at the left hand of which they showed us Virgil's sepulchre erected on a steep rock, in form of a small rotunda, or cupolated column, but almost overgrown with bushes and wild bay trees. At the entrance is this inscription: Stanisi Cencovius. 1589. Qui cineres? Tumuli hæc vestigia, conditur olim After we were advanced into this noble and altogether wonderful crypt, consisting of a passage spacious enough for two coaches to go abreast, cut through a rocky mountain near three quarters of a mile (by the ancient Cimmerii as reported, but as others say by L. Cocceius, who employed a hundred thousand men on it), we came to the midway, where there is a well bored through the diameter of this vast mountain which admits the light into a pretty chapel hewn out of the natural rock, wherein. hang divers lamps, perpetually burning. The way is paved under foot, but it does not hinder the dust, which rises so excessively in this much-frequented passage, that we were forced at midday to use a torch. At length, we were delivered from the bowels of the earth into one of the most delicious plains in the world: the oranges, lemons, pomegranates, and other fruits, blushing yet on the perpetually green trees; for the summer is here eternal, caused by the natural and adventitious heat of the earth, warmed through subterranean fires, as was shown us by our guide, who alighted, and, cutting up a turf with his knife, and delivering it to me, it was so hot I was hardly able to hold it in my hands. This mountain is exceedingly fruitful in vines, and exotics grow readily. We now came to a lake, of about two miles in circumference, environed with hills; the water of it is fresh and sweet on the surface, but salt at bottom; some mineral salt conjectured to be the cause, and it is reported of that profunditude in the middle that it is bottomless. The people call it Lago d'Agnano, from the multitude of serpents which, involved together about the spring, fall down from the cliffy hills into it. It has no fish, nor will any live in it. We tried the old experiment on a dog in the Grotto del Cane, or Charon's Cave; it is not above three or four paces deep, and about the height of a man, nor very broad. Whatever having life enters it, presently expires. Of this we made trial with two dogs, one of which we bound to a short pole to guide him the more directly into the further part of the den, where he was no sooner entered, but-without the least noise, or so much as a struggle, except that he panted for breath, lolling out his tongue, his eyes being fixed- we drew him out dead to all appearance; but immediately plunging him into the adjoining lake, within less than half an hour he recovered, and, swimming to shore, ran away from us. We tried the same on another dog, without the application of the water, and left him. quite dead. The experiment has been made on men, as on that poor creature whom Peter of Toledo caused to go in; likewise on some Turkish slaves, two soldiers, and other foolhardy persons, who all perished, and could never be recovered by the water of the lake, as are dogs; for which many learned reasons have been offered, as Simon Majolus in his book of the Canicular-days has mentioned (Colloq. 15). And certainly the most likely is the effect of those hot and dry vapors which ascend out of the earth, and are condensed by the ambient cold, as appears by their converting into crystalline drops on the top, whilst at the bottom it is so excessively hot that a torch being extinguished near it, and lifted a little distance, was suddenly re-lighted. Near to this cave are the natural stoves of St. Germain, of the nature of sudatories, in certain chambers partitioned with stone for the sick to sweat in, the vapors here being exceedingly hot, and of admirable success in the gout, and other cold distempers of the nerves. Hence, we climbed up a hill, the very high |