Life cannot be kept at a stand: the years of innocence and prattle were

soon at an end, and other qualifications were necessary to recommend me

to continuance of kindness. It luckily happened that none of my friends

had high notions of book-learning. The sailor hated to see tall boys

shut up in a school, when they might more properly be seeing the world,

and making their fortunes; and was of opinion, that when the first rules

of arithmetick were known, all that was necessary to make a man complete

might be learned on ship-board. The squire only insisted, that so much

scholarship was indispensably necessary, as might confer ability to draw

a lease and read the court hands; and the old chambermaid declared

loudly her contempt of books, and her opinion that they only took the

head off the main chance.

To unite, as well as we could, all their systems, I was bred at home.

Each was taught to believe, that I followed his directions, and I gained

likewise, as my mother observed, this advantage, that I was always in

the way; for she had known many favourite children sent to schools or

academies, and forgotten.

As I grew fitter to be trusted to my own discretion, I was often

despatched upon various pretences to visit my relations, with directions

from my parents how to ingratiate myself, and drive away competitors.

I was, from my infancy, considered by the sailor as a promising genius,

because I liked punch better than wine; and I took care to improve this

prepossession by continual inquiries about the art of navigation, the

degree of heat and cold in different climates, the profits of trade, and

the dangers of shipwreck. I admired the courage of the seamen, and

gained his heart by importuning him for a recital of his adventures, and

a sight of his foreign curiosities. I listened with an appearance of

close attention to stories which I could already repeat, and at the

close never failed to express my resolution to visit distant countries,

and my contempt of the cowards and drones that spend all their lives in

their native parish; though I had in reality no desire of any thing but

money, nor ever felt the stimulations of curiosity or ardour of

adventure, but would contentedly have passed the years of Nestor in

receiving rents, and lending upon mortgages.

The squire I was able to please with less hypocrisy, for I really

thought it pleasant enough to kill the game and eat it. Some arts of

falsehood, however, the hunger of gold persuaded me to practise, by

which, though no other mischief was produced, the purity of my thoughts

was vitiated, and the reverence for truth gradually destroyed. I

sometimes purchased fish, and pretended to have caught them; I hired the

countrymen to shew me partridges, and then gave my uncle intelligence of

their haunt; I learned the seats of hares at night, and discovered them

in the morning with a sagacity that raised the wonder and envy of old

sportsmen. One only obstruction to the advancement of my reputation I

could never fully surmount; I was naturally a coward, and was therefore

always left shamefully behind, when there was a necessity to leap a

hedge, to swim a river, or force the horses to the utmost speed; but as

these exigencies did not frequently happen, I maintained my honour with

sufficient success, and was never left out of a hunting party.

The old chambermaid was not so certainly, nor so easily pleased, for she

had no predominant passion but avarice, and was therefore cold and

inaccessible. She had no conception of any virtue in a young man but

that of saving his money. When she heard of my exploits in the field,

she would shake her head, inquire how much I should be the richer for

all my performances, and lament that such sums should be spent upon dogs

and horses. If the sailor told her of my inclination to travel, she was

sure there was no place like England, and could not imagine why any man

that can live in his own country should leave it. This sullen and frigid

being I found means, however, to propitiate by frequent commendations of

frugality, and perpetual care to avoid expense.

From the sailor was our first and most considerable expectation; for he

was richer than the chambermaid, and older than the squire. He was so

awkward and bashful among women, that we concluded him secure from

matrimony; and the noisy fondness with which he used to welcome me to

his house, made us imagine that he would look out for no other heir, and

that we had nothing to do but wait patiently for his death. But in the

midst of our triumph, my uncle saluted us one morning with a cry of

transport, and, clapping his hand hard on my shoulder, told me, I was a

happy fellow to have a friend like him in the world, for he came to fit

me out for a voyage with one of his old acquaintances. I turned pale,

and trembled; my father told him, that he believed my constitution not

fitted to the sea; and my mother, bursting into tears, cried out, that

her heart would break if she lost me. All this had no effect; the sailor

was wholly insusceptive of the softer passions, and, without regard to

tears or arguments, persisted in his resolution to make me a man. We

were obliged to comply in appearance, and preparations were accordingly

made. I took leave of my friends with great alacrity, proclaimed the

beneficence of my uncle with the highest strains of gratitude, and

rejoiced at the opportunity now put into my hands of gratifying my

thirst of knowledge. But, a week before the day appointed for my

departure, I fell sick by my mother's direction, and refused all food

but what she privately brought me; whenever my uncle visited me I was

lethargick or delirious, but took care in my raving fits to talk

incessantly of travel and merchandize. The room was kept dark; the table

was filled with vials and gallipots; my mother was with difficulty

persuaded not to endanger her life with nocturnal attendance; my father

lamented the loss of the profits of the voyage; and such superfluity of

artifices was employed, as perhaps might have discovered the cheat to a

man of penetration. But the sailor, unacquainted with subtilties and

stratagems, was easily deluded; and as the ship could not stay for my

recovery, sold the cargo, and left me to re-establish my health at

leisure.

I was sent to regain my flesh in a purer air, lest it should appear

never to have been wasted, and in two months returned to deplore my

disappointment. My uncle pitied my dejection, and bid me prepare myself

against next year, for no land-lubber should touch his money.

A reprieve however was obtained, and perhaps some new stratagem might

have succeeded another spring; but my uncle unhappily made amorous

advances to my mother's maid, who, to promote so advantageous a match,

discovered the secret with which only she had been entrusted. He

stormed, and raved, and declaring that he would have heirs of his own,

and not give his substance to cheats and cowards, married the girl in

two days, and has now four children.

Cowardice is always scorned, and deceit universally detested. I found my

friends, if not wholly alienated, at least cooled in their affection;

the squire, though he did not wholly discard me, was less fond, and

often inquired when I would go to sea. I was obliged to bear his

insults, and endeavoured to rekindle his kindness by assiduity and

respect; but all my care was vain; he died without a will, and the

estate devolved to the legal heir.

Thus has the folly of my parents condemned me to spend in flattery and

attendance those years in which I might have been qualified to place

myself above hope or fear. I am arrived at manhood without any useful

art, or generous sentiment; and, if the old woman should likewise at

last deceive me, am in danger at once of beggary and ignorance.

I am, &c.

CAPTATOR.

No. 199. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1752.

_Decolor, obscurus, cilis. Non ille repexam

Cæsariem Regum, nec Candida virginis ornat

Colla, nec insigni splendet per cingula morsu:

Sed nova si nigri videas miracula suai,

Tum pulcros superat cultus, et quldquid Evis

Indus litoribus rubra scrutatur in alga_. CLAUDIANUS, xlviii. 10.

Obscure, unpris'd, and dark, the magnet lies,

Nor lures the search of avaricious eyes,

Nor binds the neck, nor sparkles in the hair,

Nor dignifies the great, nor decks the fair.

But search the wonders of the dusky stone,

And own all glories of the mine outdone,

Each grace of form, each ornament of state,

That decks the fair, or dignifies the great.

TO THE RAMBLER.

SIR,

Though you have seldom digressed from moral subjects, I suppose you are

not so rigorous or cynical as to deny the value or usefulness of natural

philosophy; or to have lived in this age of inquiry and experiment,

without any attention to the wonders every day produced by the pokers of

magnetism and the wheels of electricity. At least, I may be allowed to

hope that, since nothing is more contrary to moral excellence than envy,

you will not refuse to promote the happiness of others, merely because

you cannot partake of their enjoyments.

In confidence, therefore, that your ignorance has not made you an enemy

to knowledge, I offer you the honour of introducing to the notice of the

publick, an adept, who, having long laboured for the benefit of mankind,

is not willing, like too many of his predecessors, to conceal his

secrets in the grave.

Many have signalized themselves by melting their estates in crucibles. I

was born to no fortune, and therefore had only my mind and body to

devote to knowledge, and the gratitude of posterity will attest, that

neither mind nor body have been spared. I have sat whole weeks without

sleep by the side of an athanor, to watch the moment of projection; I

have made the first experiment in nineteen diving engines of new

construction; I have fallen eleven times speechless under the shock of

electricity; I have twice dislocated my limbs, and once fractured my

skull, in essaying to fly[l]; and four times endangered my life by

submitting to the transfusion of blood.

In the first period of my studies, I exerted the powers of my body more

than those of my mind, and was not without hopes that fame might be

purchased by a few broken bones without the toil of thinking; but having

been shattered by some violent experiments, and constrained to confine

myself to my books, I passed six-and-thirty years in searching the

treasures of ancient wisdom, but am at last amply recompensed for all my

perseverance.

The curiosity of the present race of philosophers, having been long

exercised upon electricity, has been lately transferred to magnetism;

the qualities of the loadstone have been investigated, if not with much

advantage, yet with great applause; and as the highest praise of art is

to imitate nature, I hope no man will think the makers of artificial

magnets celebrated or reverenced above their deserts.

I have, for some time, employed myself in the same practice, but with

deeper knowledge and more extensive views. While my contemporaries were

touching needles and raising weights, or busying themselves with

inclination and variation, I have been examining those qualities of

magnetism which may be applied to the accommodation and happiness of

common life. I have left to inferior understandings the care of

conducting the sailor through the hazards of the ocean, and reserved to

myself the more difficult and illustrious province of preserving the

connubial compact from violation, and setting mankind free for ever from

the danger of supposititious children, and the torments of fruitless

vigilance and anxious suspicion.

To defraud any man of his due praise is unworthy of a philosopher; I

shall, therefore, openly confess that I owe the first hint of this

inestimable secret to the rabbi Abraham Ben Hannase, who, in his

treatise of precious stones, has left this account of the magnet:

[Hebrew: chkalamta],&c. "The calamita, or loadstone that attracts iron,

produces many bad fantasies in man. Women fly from this stone. If,

therefore, any husband be disturbed with jealousy, and fear lest his

wife converses with other men, let him lay this stone upon her while she

is asleep. If she be pure, she will, when she wakes, clasp her husband

fondly in her arms; but if she be guilty, she will fall out of bed, and

run away."

When I first read this wonderful passage, I could not easily conceive

why it had remained hitherto unregarded in such a zealous competition

for magnetical fame. It would surely be unjust to suspect that any of

the candidates are strangers to the name or works of rabbi Abraham, or

to conclude, from a late edict of the Royal Society in favour of the

English language, that philosophy and literature are no longer to act in

concert. Yet, how should a quality so useful escape promulgation, but by

the obscurity of the language in which it was delivered? Why are footmen

and chambermaids paid on every side for keeping secrets, which no

caution nor expense could secure from the all-penetrating magnet? Or,

why are so many witnesses summoned, and so many artifices practised, to

discover what so easy an experiment would infallibly reveal?

Full of this perplexity, I read the lines of Abraham to a friend, who

advised me not to expose my life by a mad indulgence of the love of

fame: he warned me by the fate of Orpheus, that knowledge or genius

could give no protection to the invader of female prerogatives; assured

me that neither the armour of Achilles, nor the antidote of Mithridates,

would be able to preserve me; and counselled me, if I could not live

without renown, to attempt the acquisition of universal empire, in which

the honour would perhaps be equal, and the danger certainly be less.

I, a solitary student, pretend not to much knowledge of the world, but

am unwilling to think it so generally corrupt, as that a scheme for the

detection of incontinence should bring any danger upon its inventor. My

friend has indeed told me that all the women will be my enemies, and

that, however I flatter myself with hopes of defence from the men, I

shall certainly find myself deserted in the hour of danger. Of the young

men, said he, some will be afraid of sharing the disgrace of their

mothers, and some the danger of their mistresses; of those who are

married, part are already convinced of the falsehood of their wives, and

part shut their eyes to avoid conviction; few ever sought for virtue in

marriage, and therefore few will try whether they have found it. Almost

every man is careless or timorous, and to trust is easier and safer than

to examine.

These observations discouraged me, till I began to consider what

reception I was likely to find among the ladies, whom I have reviewed

under the three classes of maids, wives, and widows, and cannot but hope

that I may obtain some countenance among them. The single ladies I

suppose universally ready to patronise my method, by which connubial

wickedness may be detected, since no woman marries with a previous

design to be unfaithful to her husband. And to keep them steady in my

cause, I promise never to sell one of my magnets to a man who steals a

girl from school; marries a woman of forty years younger than himself;

or employs the authority of parents to obtain a wife without her own

consent.

Among the married ladies, notwithstanding the insinuations of slander,

yet I resolve to believe, that the greater part are my friends, and am

at least convinced, that they who demand the test, and appear on my

side, will supply, by their spirit, the deficiency of their numbers, and

that their enemies will shrink and quake at the sight of a magnet, as

the slaves of Scythia fled from the scourge.

The widows will be confederated in my favour by their curiosity, if not

by their virtue; for it may be observed, that women who have outlived

their husbands, always think themselves entitled to superintend the

conduct of young wives; and as they are themselves in no danger from

this magnetick trial, I shall expect them to be eminently and

unanimously zealous in recommending it.

With these hopes I shall, in a short time, offer to sale magnets armed

with a particular metallick composition, which concentrates their

virtue, and determines their agency. It is known that the efficacy of

the magnet, in common operations, depends much upon its armature, and it

cannot be imagined, that a stone, naked, or cased only in a common

manner, will discover the virtues ascribed to it by Rabbi Abraham. The

secret of this metal I shall carefully conceal, and, therefore, am not

afraid of imitators, nor shall trouble the offices with solicitations

for a patent.

I shall sell them of different sizes, and various degrees of strength. I

have some of a bulk proper to be hung at the bed's head, as scare-crows,

and some so small that they may be easily concealed. Some I have ground

into oval forms to be hung at watches; and some, for the curious, I have

set in wedding rings, that ladies may never want an attestation of their

innocence. Some I can produce so sluggish and inert, that they will not

act before the third failure; and others so vigorous and animated, that

they exert their influence against unlawful wishes, if they have been

willingly and deliberately indulged. As it is my practice honestly to

tell my customers the properties of my magnets, I can judge, by their

choice, of the delicacy of their sentiments. Many have been content to

spare cost by purchasing only the lowest degree of efficacy, and all

have started with terrour from those which operate upon the thoughts.

One young lady only fitted on a ring of the strongest energy, and

declared that she scorned to separate her wishes from her acts, or allow

herself to think what she was forbidden to practise.

I am, &c.

HERMETICUS.

[Footnote l: In the sixth chapter of Rasselas we have an excellent story

of an experimentalist in the art of flying. Dr. Johnson sketched perhaps

from life, for we are informed that he once lodged in the same house

with a man who broke his legs in the daring attempt.]

No. 200. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1752.

_Nemo petit, modicis quae mittebantur amicis

A Seneca, quae Piso bonus, quae Cotta solebut

Largiri; namque et titulis, et fascibus olim

Major habebatur donandi gloria: solum

Poscimus, ut caenes civiliter. Hoc face, el esto,

Esto, ut nunc multi, dives tibi, pauper amicis_. JUV. Sat. v. 108.

No man expects (for who so much a sot

Who has the times he lives in so forgot?)

What Seneca, what Piso us'd to send,

To raise or to support a sinking friend.

Those godlike men, to wanting virtue kind,

Bounty well plac'd, preferr'd, and well design'd,

To all their titles, all that height of pow'r,

Which turns the brains of fools, and fools alone adore.

When your poor client is condemn'd t' attend,

'Tis all we ask, receive him as a friend:

Descend to this, and then we ask no more;

Rich to yourself, to all beside be poor. BOWLES.

TO THE RAMBLER.

MR. RAMBLER,

Such is the tenderness or infirmity of many minds, that when any

affliction oppresses them, they have immediate recourse to lamentation

and complaint, which, though it can only be allowed reasonable when

evils admit of remedy, and then only when addressed to those from whom

the remedy is expected, yet seems even in hopeless and incurable

distresses to be natural, since those by whom it is not indulged,

imagine that they give a proof of extraordinary fortitude by suppressing

it.

I am one of those who, with the Sancho of Cervantes, leave to higher

characters the merit of suffering in silence, and give vent without

scruple to any sorrow that swells in my heart. It is therefore to me a

severe aggravation of a calamity, when it is such as in the common

opinion will not justify the acerbity of exclamation, or support the

solemnity of vocal grief. Yet many pains are incident to a man of

delicacy, which the unfeeling world cannot be persuaded to pity, and

which, when they are separated from their peculiar and personal

circumstances, will never be considered as important enough to claim

attention, or deserve redress.

Of this kind will appear to gross and vulgar apprehensions, the miseries

which I endured in a morning visit to Prospero, a man lately raised to

wealth by a lucky project, and too much intoxicated by sudden elevation,

or too little polished by thought and conversation, to enjoy his present

fortune with elegance and decency.

We set out in the world together; and for a long time mutually assisted

each other in our exigencies, as either happened to have money or

influence beyond his immediate necessities. You know that nothing

generally endears men so much as participation of dangers and

misfortunes; I therefore always considered Prospero as united with me in

the strongest league of kindness, and imagined that our friendship was

only to be broken by the hand of death. I felt at his sudden shoot of

success an honest and disinterested joy; but as I want no part of his

superfluities, am not willing to descend from that equality in which we

hitherto have lived.

Our intimacy was regarded by me as a dispensation from ceremonial

visits; and it was so long before I saw him at his new house, that he

gently complained of my neglect, and obliged me to come on a day

appointed. I kept my promise, but found that the impatience of my friend

arose not from any desire to communicate his happiness, but to enjoy his

superiority.

When I told my name at the door, the footman went to see if his master

was at home, and, by the tardiness of his return, gave me reason to

suspect that time was taken to deliberate. He then informed me, that

Prospero desired my company, and shewed the staircase carefully secured

by mats from the pollution of my feet. The best apartments were

ostentatiously set open, that I might have a distant view of the

magnificence which I was not permitted to approach; and my old friend

receiving me with all the insolence of condescension at the top of the

stairs, conducted me to a back room, where he told me he always

breakfasted when he had not great company.

On the floor where we sat lay a carpet covered with a cloth, of which

Prospero ordered his servant to lift up a corner, that I might

contemplate the brightness of the colours, and the elegance of the

texture, and asked me whether I had ever seen any thing so fine before?

I did not gratify his folly with any outcries of admiration, but coldly

bade the footman let down the cloth.

We then sat down, and I began to hope that pride was glutted with

persecution, when Prospero desired that I would give the servant leave

to adjust the cover of my chair, which was slipt a little aside, to shew

the damask; he informed me that he had bespoke ordinary chairs for

common use, but had been disappointed by his tradesman. I put the chair

aside with my foot, and drew another so hastily, that I was entreated

not to rumple the carpet.

Breakfast was at last set, and as I was not willing to indulge the

peevishness that began to seize me, I commended the tea: Prospero then

told me, that another time I should taste his finest sort, but that he

had only a very small quantity remaining, and reserved it for those whom

he thought himself obliged to treat with particular respect.

While we were conversing upon such subjects as imagination happened to

suggest, he frequently digressed into directions to the servant that

waited, or made a slight inquiry after the jeweller or silversmith; and

once, as I was pursuing an argument with some degree of earnestness, he

started from his posture of attention, and ordered, that if lord Lofty

called on him that morning, he should be shown into the best parlour.

My patience was yet not wholly subdued. I was willing to promote his

satisfaction, and therefore observed that the figures on the china were

eminently pretty. Prospero had now an opportunity of calling for his

Dresden china, which, says he, I always associate with my chased

teakettle. The cups were brought; I once resolved not to have looked

upon them, but my curiosity prevailed. When I had examined them a

little, Prospero desired me to set them down, for they who were

accustomed only to common dishes, seldom handled china with much care.

You will, I hope, commend my philosophy, when I tell you that I did not

dash his baubles to the ground.

The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Nine Volumes, Volume 03 The Rambler, Volume II · 第 34 / 37 段