These are solemn and uncompromising words. And scarcely less solemn are the phrases in which he describes the life of Bohemia as “charming but terrible, having its conquerors and its martyrs”—a life upon which no one should enter “who is not prepared beforehand to submit to the inexorable law of Væ Victis!” Woe to the conquered indeed! In the brilliant pages of the world’s history, the name and fortune of the one who succeeds alone are inscribed; those of the nine hundred and ninety-nine who ignominiously and miserably fail pass into everlasting oblivion.
[1]. Allusions to the continuance of this revolting practice are numerous as late as the eighteenth century. See, e. g., Pope’s “Essay on Man,” iv., 251-252, and the famous anecdote of Johnson and Goldsmith (Boswell, anno 1773).
[2]. As the pronunciation of our diarist’s name is often under discussion, I subjoin, for the reader’s guidance in the matter, some clever verses, originally published a few years ago in the London “Graphic”:—
“There are people, I’m told,—some say there are heaps,—
Who speak of the talkative Samuel as Peeps;
And some, so precise and pedantic their step is,
Who call the delightful old diarist, Pepys;
But those I think right, and I follow their steps,
Ever mention the garrulous gossip as Peps!”