He certainly had fine imagination, and then he was so absorbed
in his work;--it was a question whether it would help him most to encourage
or to repress his ardor at present. The Doctor pondered, said he would take
the matter into consideration,--it were a pity to nip any wholesome
enthusiasm i' the bud,--"but it is very apparent, Mr. Blount, that the
young man, if he goes on, will experience the fate of Orpheus, and so needs
to be curbed in time. '_Medio tutissimus ibis_', saith Naso,--a maxim the
non-observance of which cost him the pain and disgrace of exile. And you
should strive to impress the truth of it upon Clarian; spare no pains to
rouse him. This seclusion is what I most dread. The poet Spenser hath made
all his viler passions dwellers in caves and darkness, and with truth; for
solitude is fatal, where there are morbid and melancholic tendencies. A
very wise German, remarking upon the text, 'It is not good for man to be
alone,' added, very finely,--'and above all, it is not good for man to
_work_ alone; he requires sympathy, encouragement, excitement, to succeed
in anything good.'"
But I found the worthy old Doctor's advice easier to inculcate than to
practise. Clarian did not need my sympathy, had excitement and
encouragement enough in his own hopes, and, in fact, like the Boatswain in
"The Tempest," only required to be let alone. Still, he paid us a visit now
and then, and gave us to understand that he denied himself our society, did
not thrust it aside as something useless and disagreeable.
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