LVII.

Two or three seem so little, one seems nothing:
In deserts, forests, crowds, or by the shore,
There solitude, we know, has her full growth in
The spots which were her realms for evermore;
But in a mighty hall or gallery, both in

More modern buildings and those built of yore,
A kind of death comes o'er us all alone

Seeing what's meant for many with but one.

LVIII.

A neat snug study on a winter's night,
A book, friend, single lady, or a glass
Of claret, sandwich, and an appetite,

Are things which make an English evening pass;
Though certes by no means so grand a sight
As is a theatre lit up by gas.

I pass my evenings in long galleries solely,
And that's the reason I'm so melancholy.

LIX.

Alas! man makes that great which makes him little:
I grant you in a church 't is very well:

What speaks of Heaven should by no means be brittle,
But strong and lasting, till no tongue can tell
Their names who rear'd it; but huge houses fit ill-
And huge tombs worse-mankind, since Adam fell:
Methinks the story of the tower of Babel

Might teach them this much better than I'm able.

LX.

Babel was Nimrod's hunting-box, and then

A town of gardens, walls, and wealth amazing, Where Nabuchadonosor, king of men,

Reign'd, till one summer's day he took to grazing, And Daniel tamed the lions in their den,

The people's awe and admiration raising;

'T was famous, too, for Thisbe and for Pyramus, And the calumniated Queen Semiramis.

LXI.

LXII.

But to resume, should there be (what may not

Be in these days?) some infidels, who don't, Because they can't find out the very spot

Of that same Babel, or because they won't, (Though Claudius Rich, esquire, some bricks has got, And written lately two memoirs upon 't)

Believe the Jews, those unbelievers, who
Must be believed, though they believe not you;

LXIII.

Yet let them think that Horace has exprest
Shortly and sweetly the masonic folly
Of those, forgetting the great place of rest,

Who give themselves to architecture wholly;
We know where things and men must end at best:
A moral (like all morals) melancholy,

And « Et sepulchri immemor struis domos>>

“

Shows that we build when we should but entomb us.

LXIV.

At last they reach'd a quarter most retired,
Where echo woke as if from a long slumber;
Though full of all things which could be desired,
One wonder'd what to do with such a number
Of articles which nobody required;

Here wealth had done its utmost to encumber
With furniture an exquisite apartment,

Which puzzled nature much to know what art meant.

LXV.

It seem'd, however, but to open on

A range or suite of farther chambers, which Might lead to Heaven knows where; but in this one The moveables were prodigally rich:

Sofas 't was half a sin to sit upon,

So costly were they; carpets, every Of workmanship so rare, they made you

stitch

wish

You could glide o'er them like a golden fish.

LXVI.

The black, however, without hardly deigning
A glance at that which rapt the slaves in wonder,
Trampled what they scarce trod for fear of staining,
As if the milky way their feet was under
With all its stars; and with a stretch attaining

A certain press or cupboard niched in yonder
In that remote recess, which you may see—
Or if you don't the fault is not in me,

LXVII.

I wish to be perspicuous; and the black,
I say, unlocking the recess, pull'd forth
A quantity of clothes fit for the back

Of any Mussulman, whate'er his worth;
And of variety there was no lack-

And yet, though I have said there was no dearth, He chose himself to point out what he thought Most proper for the christians he had bought.

LXVIII.

The suit he thought most suitable to each
Was, for the elder and the stouter, first
A Candiote cloak, which to the knee might reach,
And trowsers not so tight that they would burst,
But such as fit an Asiatic breech;

A shawl, whose folds in Cashmire had been nurst, Slippers of saffron, dagger rich and handy;

In short, all things which form a Turkish dandy.

LXIX.

While he was dressing, Baba, their black friend,
Hinted the vast advantages which they
Might probably obtain both in the end,

If they would but pursue the proper way
Which fortune plainly seem'd to recommend;
And then he added, that he needs must say,

'T would greatly tend to better their condition, If they would condescend to circumcision.

"

LXX.

« For his own part, he really should rejoice
To see them true believers, but no less
Would leave his proposition to their choice.>>
The other, thanking him for this excess
Of goodness, in thus leaving them a voice
In such a trifle, scarcely could express
«Sufficiently (he said) his approbation
Of all the customs of this polish'd nation.

LXXI.

« For his own share-he saw but small objection To so respectable an ancient rite;

And, after swallowing down a slight refection,
For which he own'd a present appetite.
He doubted not a few hours of reflection

Would reconcile him to the business quite.» «Will it?» said Juan, sharply; «Strike me dead, But they as soon shall circumcise my head!