FORTUNA  .   SPONDET .   MULTA  .   MULTIS  .   PRESTAT .      NEMINI  . VIVE .   IN .   DIES .  ET .   HORAS .  NAM  .
     PROPRIUM  .   EST .   NIHIL.{1} Marmor vetus apud Feam, ad
     Hor. Epist. i. ii, 23.
 
          Fortune makes many promises to many,
          Keeps them to none.
          Live to the days and hours,
          For nothing is your own.
Gregory Gryll, Esq., of Gryll Grange in Hampshire, on the borders of the New Forest, in the midst of a park which was a little forest in itself, reaching nearly to the sea, and well stocked with deer, having a large outer tract¹, where a numerous light-rented and well-conditioned tenantry fattened² innumerable pigs, considering himself well located for what he professed³ to be, Epicuri de grege porcus,{2} and held, though he found it difficult to trace the pedigree, that he was lineally descended⁴ from the ancient and illustrious Gryllus, who maintained against Ulysses the superior happiness of the life of other animals to that of the life of man.{3}
 
     1  This inscription⁵ appears to consist of comic senarii,
     slightly dislocated for the inscriptional⁶ purpose.
 
          Spondet
          Fortuna multa multis, praestat nemini.
          Vive in dies et horas: nam proprium est nihil.
 
     2  A pig from the herd⁷ of Epicurus. The old philosophers
     accepted good-humouredly the disparaging⁸ terms attached to
     them by their enemies or rivals. The Epicureans acquiesced⁹
     in the pig, the Cynics in the dog, and Cleanthes was content
     to be called the Ass¹⁰ of Zeno, as being alone capable of
     bearing the burthen of the Stoic¹¹ philosophy.
 
     3 Plutarch. Bruta animalia raiione uti. Gryllus in this
     dialogue seems to have the best of the argument.    Spenser,
     however, did not think.... so, when he introduced his Gryll,
     in the Paradise of Acrasia, reviling¹² Sir Guyon's Palmer for
     having restored him to the human form.
 
          Streightway he with his virtuous¹³ staff them strooke,
          And streight of beasts they comely¹⁴ men became:
          Yet being men they did unmanly looke,
          And stared ghastly, some for inward shame,
          And some for wrath¹⁵ to see their captive dame¹⁶:
          But one above the rest in speciall,
          That had an hog¹⁷ been late, hight Grylle by name,
          Repyned greatly, and did him miscall,
          That had from hoggish¹⁸ forme him brought to naturall.
 
          Said Guyon:  'See the mind of beastly man,
          That hath so soon forgot the excellence¹⁹
          Of his creation when he life began,
          That now he chooseth, with vile²⁰ difference,
          To be a beast, and lacke intelligence.'
 
          Fairy Queen, book ii. canto²¹ 12.
 
     In Plutarch's dialogue, Ulysses, after his own companions
     have been restored to the human form, solicits²² Circe to
     restore in the same manner any other Greeks who may be under
     her enchantments²³. Circe consents, provided they desire it.
     Gryllus, endowed with speech for the purpose, answers for
     all, that they had rather remain as they are; and supports
     the decision by showing the greater comfort of their
     condition as it is, to what it would probably be if they
     were again sent forth²⁴ to share the common lot of mankind. We
     have unfortunately only the beginning of the dialogue, of
     which the greater portion has perished.
It might be seen that, to a man who traced his ancestry²⁵ from the palace of Circe, the first care would be the continuance of his ancient race; but a wife presented to him the forethought of a perturbation of his equanimity²⁶, which he never could bring himself to encounter. He liked to dine well, and withal to dine quietly, and to have quiet friends at his table, with whom he could discuss questions which might afford ample room for pleasant conversation, and none for acrimonious²⁷ dispute. He feared that a wife would interfere²⁸ with his dinner, his company, and his after-dinner bottle of port. For the perpetuation²⁹ of his name, he relied on an orphan³⁰ niece, whom he had brought up from a child, who superintended his household, and sate³¹ at the head of his table. She was to be his heiress, and her husband was to take his name. He left the choice to her, but reserved to himself a veto, if he should think the aspirant³² unworthy of the honourable³⁴ appellation³⁵.
 
The young lady had too much taste, feeling, and sense to be likely to make a choice which her uncle would not approve; but time, as it rolled on, foreshadowed a result which the squire³⁶ had not anticipated. Miss Gryll did not seem likely to make any choice at all. The atmosphere of quiet enjoyment³⁷ in which she had grown up seemed to have steeped her feelings in its own tranquillity³⁸; and still more, the affection which she felt for her uncle, and the conviction that, though he had always premeditated her marriage, her departure from his house would be the severest blow that fate could inflict³⁹ on him, led her to postpone⁴⁰ what she knew must be an evil day to him, and might peradventure not be a good one to her.
 
'Oh, the ancient name of Gryll!; sighed the squire to himself. 'What if it should pass away in the nineteenth century, after having lived from the time of Circe!'
 
Often, indeed, when he looked at her at the head of his table, the star of his little circle, joyous⁴¹ herself, and the source of joy in others, he thought the actual state of things admitted no change for the better, and the perpetuity of the old name became a secondary consideration; but though the purpose was dimmed in the evening, it usually brightened in the morning. In the meantime, the young lady had many suitors, who were permitted to plead their cause, though they made little apparent progress.
 
Several young gentlemen of fair promise, seemingly on the point of being accepted, had been, each in his turn, suddenly and summarily dismissed. Why, was the young lady's secret. If it were known, it would be easy, she said, in these days of artificial manners, to counterfeit⁴² the presence of the qualities she liked, and, still more easy, the absence of the qualities she disliked. There was sufficient diversity in the characters of the rejected to place conjecture⁴³ at fault, and Mr. Gryll began to despair.
 
The uncle and niece had come to a clear understanding on this subject. He might present to her attention any one whom he might deem worthy³³ to be her suitor, and she might reject the suitor without assigning a reason for so doing. In this way several had appeared and passed away, like bubbles on a stream.
 
Was the young lady over fastidious, or were none among the presented worthy, or had that which was to touch her heart not yet appeared?
 
Mr. Gryll was the godfather of his niece, and to please him, she had been called Morgana. He had had some thoughts of calling her Circe, but acquiesced in the name of a sister enchantress, who had worked out her own idea of a beautiful garden, and exercised similar power over the minds and forms of men.