The Hill of Science:
1. In that season of the year when the serenity of the sky, the various fruits which
cover the ground, the discoloured foliage of the trees, and all the sweet but fading
graces of inspiring autumn open the mind to benevolence, and dispose it for
contemplation; I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic country, till curiosity
began to give way to weariness; and I sat me down on the fragment of a rock
overgrown with moss, where the rustling of the falling leaves, the dashing of
waters, and the hum of the distant city, soothed my mind into the most perfect
tranquillity; and sleep insensibly stole upon me, as I was indulging
the agreeable reveries which the objects around me naturally inspired.
2. I immediately found myself in a vast extended plain, in the middle of which arose a
mountain higher than I had before any conception of. It was covered with a multitude
of people, chiefly youth; many of whom pressed forwards with the liveliest
expression of ardour in their countenance, though the way was in many places steep
and difficult. I observed that those who had but just begun to climb the hill,
thought themselves not far from the top: but as they proceeded, new hills were
continually rising to their view; and the summit of the highest they could before
discern, seemed but the foot of another, till the mountain at length appeared to
lose itself in the clouds. As I was gazing on these things with astonishment, my
good genius suddenly appeared. "The mountain before thee," said
he, "is the hill of Science. On the top is the temple of Truth, whose head
is above the clouds, and whose face is covered with a veil of pure light. Observe
the progress of her votaries; be silent, and attentive."
3. I saw that the only regular approach to the mountain was by a gate called the gate
of languages. It was kept by a woman of a pensive and thoughtful appearance, whose
lips were continually moving, as though she repeated something to herself. Her name
was Memory. On
entering this first inclosure, I was stunned with a
confused murmur of jarring voices and dissonant sounds; which increased upon me to
such a degree, that I was utterly confounded, and could compare the noise to nothing
but the confusion of tongues at Babel. The road was also rough and stony, and
rendered more difficult by heaps of rubbish continually tumbled down from the higher
parts of the mountain, and by broken ruins of ancient buildings, which the
travellers were obliged to climb over at every step; insomuch that many, disgusted
with so rough a beginning, turned back, and attempted the mountain no more: while
others, having conquered this difficulty, had not spirits to ascend further, and
sitting down on some fragment of the rubbish, harangued the multitude below with the
greatest marks of importance and self-complacency.
4. About half way up the hill, I observed on each side of the path a thick forest
covered with continual fogs, and cut out into labyrinths, cross alleys, and
serpentine walks, entangled with thorns and briars. This was called the wood of
Error: and I heard the voices of many who were lost up and down in it, calling to
one another, and endeavouring in vain to extricate themselves. The trees in many
places shot their boughs over the path, and a thick mist often rested on it; yet
never
so much but that it was discernible by the light which beamed
from the countenance of Truth.
5. In the pleasantest part of the mountain were placed the bowers of the Muses, whose
office it was to cheer the spirits of the travellers, and encourage their fainting
steps with songs from their divine harps. Not far from hence were the fields of
Fiction, filled with a variety of wind flowers springing up in the greatest
luxuriance, of richer scents and brighter colours than I had observed in any other
climate. And near them was the dark walk of Allegory, so artificially shaded, that
the light at noonday was never stronger than that of a bright moonshine. This gave
it a pleasingly romantic air for those who delighted in contemplation. The paths and
alleys were perplexed with intricate windings, and were all terminated with the
statue of a Grace, a Virtue, or a Muse.
6. After I had observed these things, I turned my eyes towards the multitudes who were
climbing the steep ascent, and observed amongst them a youth of a lively look, a
piercing eye, and something fiery and irregular in all his motions. His name was
Genius. He darted like an eagle up the mountain, and left his companions gazing
after him with envy and admiration: but his progress was unequal, and interrupted by
a thousand caprices. When Pleasure warbled in the valley, he
mingled in
her train. When Pride beckoned towards the precipice, he ventured to the tottering
edge. He delighted in devious and untried paths; and made so many excursions from
the road, that his feebler companions often outstripped him. I observed that the
Muses beheld him with partiality; but Truth often frowned and turned aside her face.
While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccentric flights, I saw a person of a
very different appearance, named Application. He crept along with a slow and
unremitting pace, his eyes fixed on the top of the mountain, patiently removing
every stone that obstructed his way, till he saw most of those below him who had at
first derided his slow and toilsome progress. Indeed there were few who ascended the
hill with equal and uninterrupted steadiness; for, beside the difficulties of the
way, they were continually solicited to turn aside by a numerous crowd of Appetites,
Passions, and Pleasures, whose importunity, when they had once complied with, they
became less and less able to resist; and, though they often returned to the path,
the asperities of the road were more severely felt, the hill appeared more steep and
rugged, the fruits which were wholesome and refreshing, seemed harsh and ill-tasted,
their sight grew dim and their feet tripped at every little obstruction.
7. I saw, with some surprise, that the Muses,
whose business was to cheer
and encourage those who were toiling up the ascent, would often sing in the bowers
of Pleasure, and accompany those who were enticed away at the call of the Passions.
They accompanied them, however, but a little way, and always forsook them when they
lost sight of the hill. Their tyrants then doubled their chains upon the unhappy
captives, and led them away without resistance to the cells of Ignorance, or the
mansions of Misery. Amongst the innumerable seducers who were endeavouring to draw
away the votaries of Truth from the path of Science, there was one so little
formidable in her appearance, and so gentle and languid in her attempts, that I
should scarcely have taken notice of her, but for the numbers she had imperceptibly
loaded with her chains. Indolence (for so she was called), far from proceeding to
open hostilities, did not attempt to turn their feet out of the path, but contented
herself with retarding their progress; and the purpose she could not force them to
abandon, she persuaded them to delay. Her touch had a power like that of the
torpedo, which withered the strength of those who came within its influence. Her
unhappy captives still turned their faces towards the temple, and always hoped to
arrive there; but the ground seemed to slide from beneath their feet, and they found
themselves at the bottom before they suspected that they had changed
their place. The placid serenity which at first appeared in their countenance,
changed by degrees into a melancholy languor, which was tinged with deeper and
deeper gloom as they glided down the stream of Insignificance; a dark and sluggish
water, which is curled by no breeze, and enlivened by no murmur, till it falls into
a dead sea, where the startled passengers are awakened by the shock, and the next
moment buried in the gulf of Oblivion.
8. Of all the unhappy deserters from the paths of Science, none seemed less able to
return than the followers of Indolence. The captives of Appetite and Passion could
often seize the moment when their tyrants were languid or asleep, to escape from
their enchantment; but the dominion of Indolence was constant and unremitted, and
seldom resisted till resistance was in vain.
9. After contemplating these things, I turned my eyes towards the top of the mountain,
where the air was always pure and exhilarating, the path shaded with laurels and
other evergreens, and the effulgence which beamed from the face of the goddess
seemed to shed a glory from round her votaries. "Happy," said I,
"are they who are permitted to ascend the mountain!" -- but while
I was pronouncing this exclamation with uncommon ardour, I saw standing beside me a
from of diviner features and a more benign radiance. "Happier,"
said she, "are those whom Virtue conducts to the mansions
of Content!" -- "What," said I, "does Virtue
then reside in the vale?" -- "I am found," said she,
"in the vale, and I illuminate the mountain. I cheer the cottager at his
toil, and inspire the sage at his meditation. I mingle in the crowd of cities, and
bless the hermit in his cell. I have a temple in every heart that owns my influence;
and to him that wishes for me I am already present. Science may raise you to
eminence, but I alone can guide you to felicity!" While the goddess was
thus speaking, I stretched out my arms towards her with a vehemence which broke my
slumbers. The chill dews were falling around me, and the shades of evening stretched
over the landscape. I hastened homeward, and resigned the night to silence and
meditation.
Date: 1825
(revised 02/08/2005) Author: Anna Letitia Barbauld
(revised Zach Weir).
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