The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Eleven Volumes, Volume 06. Samuel Johnson

which the share could not make its way, ordered his servants to remove it. This was not effected without some difficulty, the stone being three feet four inches deep, and four feet square in the superficies; and, consequently, of a weight not easily manageable. However, by the application of levers, it was, at length, raised, and conveyed to a corner of the field, where it lay, for some months, entirely unregarded; nor, perhaps, had we ever been made acquainted with this venerable relick of antiquity, had not our good fortune been greater than our curiosity.

      A gentleman, well known to the learned world, and distinguished by the patronage of the Maecenas of Norfolk, whose name, was I permitted to mention it, would excite the attention of my reader, and add no small authority to my conjectures, observing, as he was walking that way, that the clouds began to gather, and threaten him with a shower, had recourse, for shelter, to the trees under which this stone happened to lie, and sat down upon it, in expectation of fair weather. At length he began to amuse himself, in his confinement, by clearing the earth from his seat with the point of his cane; and had continued this employment some time, when he observed several traces of letters, antique and irregular, which, by being very deeply engraven, were still easily distinguishable.

      This discovery so far raised his curiosity, that, going home immediately, he procured an instrument proper for cutting out the clay, that filled up the spaces of the letters; and, with very little labour, made the inscription legible, which is here exhibited to the publick:

POST-GENITIS

      Cum lapidem hunc, magni

      Qui nunc jacet incola stagni,

      Vel pede equus tanget,

      Vel arator vomere franget,

      Sentiet aegra metus,

      Effundet patria fletus,

      Littoraque ut fluctu,

      Resonabunt oppida luctu:

      Nam foecunda rubri

      Serpent per prata colubri,

      Gramina vastantes,

      Flores fructusque vorantes.

      Omnia foedantes,

      Vitiantes, et spoliantes;

      Quanquam haud pugnaces,

      Ibunt per cuncta minaces,

      Fures absque timore,

      Et pingues absque labore.

      Horrida dementes

      Rapiet discordia gentes;

      Plurima tunc leges

      Mutabit, plurima reges

      Natio; conversa

      In rabiem tunc contremet ursa

MARMOR NORFOLCIENSE

      Cynthia, tunc latis

      Florebunt lilia pratis;

      Nec fremere audebit

      Leo, sed violare timebit,

      Omnia consuetus

      Populari pascua lætus.

      Ante oculos natos

      Calceatos et cruciatos

      Jam feret ignavus,

      Vetitaque libidine pravus.

      En quoque quod mirum,

      Quod dicas denique dirum,

      Sanguinem equus sugit,

      Neque bellua victa remugit!

      These lines he carefully copied, accompanied, in his letter of July 19, with the following translation.

TO POSTERITY

      Whene'er this stone, now hid beneath the lake,

      The horse shall trample, or the plough shall break,

      Then, O my country! shalt thou groan distrest,

      Grief swell thine eyes, and terrour chill thy breast.

      Thy streets with violence of woe shall sound,

      Loud as the billows bursting on the ground.

      Then through thy fields shall scarlet reptiles stray,

      And rapine and pollution mark their way.

      Their hungry swarms the peaceful vale shall fright,

      Still fierce to threaten, still afraid to fight;

      The teeming year's whole product shall devour,

      Insatiate pluck the fruit, and crop the flow'r;

      Shall glutton on the industrious peasants' spoil,

      Rob without fear, and fatten without toil;

      Then o'er the world shall discord stretch her wings;

      Kings change their laws, and kingdoms change their kings.

      The bear, enrag'd, th' affrighted moon shall dread;

      The lilies o'er the vales triumphant spread;

      Nor shall the lion, wont of old to reign

      Despotick o'er the desolated plain,

      Henceforth th' inviolable bloom invade,

      Or dare to murmur in the flow'ry glade;

      His tortur'd sons shall die before his face,

      While he lies melting in a lewd embrace;

      And, yet more strange! his veins a horse shall drain,

      Nor shall the passive coward once complain.

      I make not the least doubt, but that this learned person has given us, as an antiquary, a true and uncontrovertible representation of the writer's meaning; and, am sure, he can confirm it by innumerable quotations from the authors of the middle age, should he be publickly called upon by any man of eminent rank in the republick of letters; nor will he deny the world that satisfaction, provided the animadverter proceeds with that sobriety and modesty, with which it becomes every learned man to treat a subject of such importance.

      Yet, with all proper deference to a name so justly celebrated, I will take the freedom of observing, that he has succeeded better as a scholar than a poet; having fallen below the strength, the conciseness, and, at the same time, below the perspicuity of his author. I shall not point out the particular passages in which this disparity is remarkable, but content myself with saying, in general, that the criticisms, which there is room for on this translation, may be almost an incitement to some lawyer, studious of antiquity, to learn Latin.

      The inscription, which I now proceed to consider, wants no arguments to prove its antiquity to those among the learned, who are versed in the writers of the darker ages, and know that the Latin poetry of those times was of a peculiar cast and air, not easy to be understood, and very difficult to be imitated; nor can it be conceived, that any man would lay out his abilities on a way of writing, which, though attained with much study, could gain him no reputation; and engrave his chimeras on a stone, to astonish posterity.

      Its antiquity, therefore, is out of dispute; but how high a degree of antiquity is to be assigned it, there is more ground for inquiry than determination. How early Latin rhymes made their appearance in the world, is yet undecided by the criticks. Verses of this kind were called leonine; but whence they derived that appellation, the learned Camden 18 confesses himself ignorant; so that the style carries no certain marks of its age. I shall only observe farther, on this head, that the characters are nearly of the same form with those on king Arthur's coffin; but whether, from their similitude, we may venture to pronounce them of the same date, I must refer to the decision of better judges.

      Our inability to fix the age of this inscription, necessarily infers our ignorance of its author, with relation to whom, many controversies may be started, worthy of the most profound learning, and most indefatigable diligence.

      The first question that naturally arises is: Whether he was a Briton or a Saxon? I had, at first, conceived some hope that, in this question, in which not only the idle curiosity of virtuosos, but the honour of two mighty nations, is concerned, some information might be drawn from the word patria, my

18

See his Remains, 1614, p. 337, "Riming verses, which are called versus leonini, I know not wherefore, (for a lyon's taile doth not answer to the middle parts as these verses doe,) began in the time of Carolus Magnus, and were only in request then, and in many ages following, which delighted in nothing more than in this minstrelsie of meeters."