442 A LOST AHT, on THE POTTER OF POMPEIA. 



them ; after using sundry tests, he replied,, that the jewels were of a 

 kind wholly new to him, which variety, as well as their size and 

 brightness, tempted him to risk a large sum. So he gave me one indif- 

 ferent small, evidently hugging himself on having cheated me in the 

 bargain ; but what cared I how little I got for things which I could 

 multiply to infinity. Then went I back, and, to avoid suspicion, 

 dropped into smaller cups some mead, milk, fair water, and the clear 

 dyes with which I had been wont to tint my ware. These, placed so 

 that my fount of splendour might run round, presently became equal 

 to topaz, pearl, diamonds, emeralds, amethysts, and sapphires. I 

 clipped off the clay from about them, and lay them up in my house. 

 Now let the centurion come. 



Mine enemies are silenced on every hand. I am famous. I am 

 flattered, and, beside Junia, I pore over the thoughts of poets and of 

 sages ; but she bids me leave her sometimes, that I may do good to 

 others. A selfish lover is unworthy of her. 



How many bereaved friends have I partially consoled ! How many 

 fair creations perpetuated. Those to whom we give wealth may betray, 

 but they who truly love can be secret. The last look, be it what it 

 may, a real mourner is loathe to lose. They confide to me their dead. 

 I restore them statues ; but I tell to none how this may be. I bear the 

 water to their houses, for none shall lie near my Junia. It is usually 

 covenanted to say that these bodies are burned, or embalmed ; and I 

 pass for a great sculptor, from no merit of my own. I was the same, 

 or a better man, when they slighted me ; for then mine every act the 

 the world was welcome to see. I was all truth. 



When 1 was poor I deemed that the rich had no distress. I have 

 reached the pinnacle, all around is danger. The novelty decreases. 

 My rival, buying arms with my gifts, turns them against me. Many 

 are the ungrateful envies, jealousies, and slanders, with which I am 

 beset, because they understand me not. The changes of my fate have 

 taught me to know mankind and myself; have made me hardy and 

 immoveable. Perchance this may be philosophy. Let a man win fame 

 never so easily, so accidentally, he will, in the end, pay but too dearly 

 for it. Let him content himself with but the coldest semblance of a 

 blessing, he will find it begrudged him, even by those on whom he 

 hath bestowed substantial'Ccomfort ; but they shall not make me a 

 cynic; they shall not drive me from my beloved Pompeia. It is some- 

 thing that I have had my day. I will tell them all. Myself divert 

 this wondrous spring, so that it may flow into a public place, for their 

 use; no eye, save mine, must look on Junia; with her, ease, and 

 obscure competence, I may yet be happy in the twilight of our ever- 

 green bower. 



Divinities ! do I live to write this ? It was evening, most of our 

 citizens had retired to rest, and I to continue this record, at the feet 

 of Junia ; when the centurion called on me aloud, saying that, em- 

 powered by our new ruler, Titus, he had opened the tomb of certain 

 Pompeians ; they were empty ; the statues had been hacked up, indica- 

 tions of their nature were evident; and I was accused of sorcery. 



