PERDICARIS.
Mr. Editor,—In introducing the following pieces to your notice, permit me to say a few words of the gentleman whose lectures on the condition and prospects of his native Greece have occasioned them to be offered to you. Perdicaris is a native of Berea in Macedonia, a place memorable not only for classic but for sacred associations. He left his country while a youth, about the commencement of the Greek revolution; and after travelling for some time in Syria and Egypt, was brought off by an American vessel of war, from Smyrna, where his situation as a Greek was extremely perilous. His education having been completed in this country, he engaged as a teacher of the Greek language, first at the Mount Pleasant Institution, Amherst, Massachusetts, and subsequently at Washington College, Hartford, Connecticut. Being now about to return to his native country, he is perfecting his acquaintance with the United States and their institutions, by travel; while at the same time he aims by lectures delivered in the various cities, to excite an interest in the public mind in the prospects and condition of his own country. It appears to be his most earnest wish, to remove some false ideas with respect to his native land, which have been too generally prevalent, and which even the tone of Byron's poetry—friend of Greece as he was—has tended to confirm. In the accounts of Perdicaris, we discover that his country is still worthy of her ancient fame, that she possesses, and has possessed for years, numerous and eminent scholars, noble institutions of learning, a national poetry of no ordinary merit, an active and intelligent population, and a general diffusion of enlightened public spirit, of which it is as gratifying as it is unexpected, to be informed.
Of the two following pieces, the one is a translation, executed with Mr. Perdicaris's assistance, from Christopoulos, who has been styled the Modern Anacreon. It has in the original, an amusing and touching simplicity, which I have not, I fear, succeeded in preserving. The second piece must speak for itself.
FROM THE ROMAIC OF CHRISTOPOULOS.
TO G. A. PERDICARIS.
| We hail thee, Greek, from that far shore, Young Freedom's chosen land of yore! There were her first high Pæans poured— There proved in fight her virgin sword— There fell her eldest-martyr'd brave, The heroes of the mount and wave! We hail thee! Not a breast that burns With but a spark of patriot fire, But to thy country's altar turns, And listens to thy country's lyre. Grecian, forgive the idle thought! We deemed old Hellas' spirit fled. Yes! when thy brethren bravely fought On plains where rest the immortal dead, We scarce cast off the unworthy fear, Scarce hoped that Greece might yet be free: It seemed a boon too bright, too dear For our degenerate age to see A newly-won Thermopylæ. And e'en if Grecian valor burst Its chains, we little deemed thy clime That generous intellect had nursed That shone so bright in elder time. But who could catch thy burning words, The changes of thy speaking eye, And deem that time, or tyrant swords Could bid the Grecian spirit die? Thanks for the lesson thou hast given! It shows, where Freedom once hath dwelt, Though every bolt of angry Heaven Age after age should there be dealt, There is a power they cannot kill; The proud, free spirit of the race Lives on through woe and bondage still, The eternal Genius of the place. Yes! Hear the lesson, distant lands, Where Goth and Russ with iron rod Press down and cramp in servile bands The living images of God! Hear, Poland! soon shall dawn the day Of liberty and peace for thee! And thou, where Rhine's blue waters play! And thou, once glorious Italy! And thou, my country, be thou true! The great of former days arise, The same bright path again pursue That marked their ancient victories. Greece is thy rival for renown! Arouse thee to the noble strife! Thou must not lose thy glory's crown, Well won by many a hero's life! No! Onward still, ye noble pair, Each mindful of the illustrious past, The struggle and the triumph share, And ever may that triumph last! |
B..
MS.S. OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.1
1 These pieces, from the pen of Dr. Franklin, have never appeared in any edition of his works, and are from the manuscript book which contains the Lecture and Essays published in former numbers of the Messenger.
PROPOSALS
That P. S. and A. N. be immediately invited into the Junto.
That all new members be qualified by the four qualifications, and all the old ones take it.
That these queries copied at the beginning of a book, be read distinctly each meeting, a pause between each while one might fill and drink a glass of wine.
That if they cannot all be gone through in one night, we begin the next where we left off, only, such as particularly regard the funds to be read every night.
That it be not hereafter the duty of any member to bring queries, but left to his discretion.
That an old declamation be, without fail, read every night when there is no new one.
That Mr. Brientnal's Poem on the Junto be read over once a month, and hum'd in consort2 by as many as can hum it.
2 Concert was thus spelt in the beginning of the last century. See many examples in the Tatler, etc.
That once a month in spring, summer and fall, the Junto meet in the afternoon in some proper place across the river for bodily exercise.
That in the aforesaid book be kept minutes thus:
Friday, June 30, 1732.
Present A, B, C, D, E, F, etc.
Figure denotes the queries answered.
1. H. P. read this maxim, viz. or this experiment, viz. or etc.
5. Lately arrived one —— of such a profession or such a science, etc.
7. X. Y. grew rich by this means, etc.
That these minutes be read once a year at the anniversary.
That all fines due be immediately paid in, and the penal laws for queries and declamations abolished, only he who is absent above ten times in the year, to pay 10s. towards the anniversary entertainment.
That the secretary, for keeping the minutes, be allowed one shilling per night, to be paid out of the money already in his hands.
That after the queries are begun reading, all discourse foreign to them shall be deemed impertinent.
When any thing from reading an author is mentioned, if it exceed a line, and the Junto require it, the person shall bring the passage or an abstract of it in writing the next night, if he has it not with him.
When the books of the library come, every member shall undertake some author, that he may not be without observations to communicate.
How shall we judge of the goodness of a writing? or what qualities should a writing on any subject have, to be good and perfect in its kind?
Answer 1. To be good it ought to have a tendency to benefit the reader by improving his virtue or his knowledge.
The method should be just, that is, it should proceed regularly from things known to things unknown, distinctly and clearly, without confusion.
The words used should be the most expressive that the language affords, provided they are the most generally understood.
Nothing should be expressed in two words that can as well be expressed in one; i.e. no synonymes should be used or very rarely, but the whole be as short as possible, consistent with clearness.
The words should be so placed as to be agreeable to the ear in reading.
Summarily,—It should be smooth,
clear, and
short,
For the contrary qualities are displeasing.
But taking the query otherwise:
An ill man may write an ill thing well; that is, having an ill design he may use the properest style and arguments (considering who are to be readers) to attain his ends.
In this sense, that is best wrote which is best adapted for attaining the end of the writer.
Can a man arrive at perfection in this life, as some believe; or is it impossible, as others believe?
Perhaps they differ in the meaning of the word perfection.
I suppose the perfection of any thing to be only the greatest the nature of that thing is capable of.
Thus a horse is more perfect than an oyster, yet the oyster may be a perfect oyster, as well as the horse a perfect horse.
And an egg is not so perfect as a chicken, nor a chicken as a hen; for the hen has more strength than the chicken, and the chicken more life than the egg—yet it may be a perfect egg, chicken, and hen.
If they mean a man cannot in this life be so perfect as an angel, it is true, for an angel by being incorporeal, is allowed some perfections we are at present incapable of, and less liable to some imperfections that we are liable to. If they mean a man is not capable of being so perfect here as he is capable of being in heaven, that may be true likewise.
But that a man is not capable of being so perfect here as he is capable of being here, is not sense; it is as if I should say, a chicken in the state of a chicken is not capable of being so perfect as a chicken is capable of being in that state.
In the above sense there may be a perfect oyster, a perfect horse, a perfect ship, why not a perfect man? that is, as perfect as his present nature and circumstances admit?
Question. Wherein consists the happiness of a rational creature?
Answer. In having a sound mind and a healthy body, a sufficiency of the necessaries and conveniences of life, together with the favor of God and the love of mankind.
Q. What do you mean by a sound mind?
A. A faculty of reasoning justly and truly, in searching after such truths as relate to my happiness. Which faculty is the gift of God, capable of being improved by experience and instruction into wisdom.
Q. What is wisdom?
A. The knowledge of what will be best for us on all occasions and the best ways of attaining it.
Q. Is any man wise at all times and in all things?
A. No: but some are much more frequently wise than others.
Q. What do you mean by the necessaries of life?
A. Having wholesome food and drink wherewith to satisfy hunger and thirst, clothing, and a place of habitation fit to secure against the inclemencies of the weather.
Q. What do you mean by the conveniences of life?
A. Such a plenty * * * * *
Query.—Whether it is worth a rational man's while to forego the pleasure arising from the present luxury of the age in eating and drinking and artful cookery, studying to gratify the appetite, for the sake of enjoying a healthy old age, a sound mind and a sound body, which are the advantages reasonably to be expected from a more simple and temperate diet?
Whether those meats and drinks are not the best that contain everything in their natural tastes, nor have any thing added by art so pleasing as to induce us to eat or drink when we are not athirst or hungry, or after thirst and hunger are satisfied; water, for instance, for drink, and bread, or the like, for meat?
Is there any difference between knowledge and prudence?
If there is any, which of the two is most eligible?
Is it justifiable to put private men to death for the sake of the public safety or tranquillity, who have committed no crime? As in case of the plague to stop infection, or as in the case of the Welshmen here executed.
If the sovereign power attempts to deprive a subject of his right, (or, what is the same thing, of what he thinks his right,) is it justifiable in him to resist if he is able?
What general conduct of life is most suitable for men in such circumstances as most of the members of the Junto are? or of the many schemes of living which are in our power to pursue, which will be most probably conducive to our happiness?
Which is the best to make a friend of, a wise and good man that is poor, or a rich man that is neither wise nor good?
Which of the two is the greatest loss to a country, if they both die?
Which of the two is happiest in life?
Does it not, in a general way, require great study and intense application for a poor man to become rich and powerful, if he would do it without the forfeiture of his honesty?
Does it not require as much pains, study and application, to become truly wise and strictly good and virtuous, as to become rich?
Can a man of common capacity pursue both views with success at the same time?
If not, which of the two is it best for him to make his whole application to?
The great secret of succeeding in conversation, is to admire little, to hear much, always to distrust our own reason, and sometimes that of our friends; never to pretend to wit, but to make that of others appear as much as possibly we can; to hearken to what is said and to answer to the purpose.
Ut jam nunc dicat jam nunc debentia dici.