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mechanical arts, and also of liberal sciences, and also of prac- cities of the kingdom, where, as it cometh to pass, we do tices which are not brought into arts. These we call Mystery | publish such new profitable inventions as we think good. And men.

we do also declare natural divinations of diseases, plagues, “We have three that try new experiments such as them- swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempests, earthquakes, selves think good. These we call Pioneers or Miners. great inundations, comets, temperature of the year, and

“We have three that draw the experiments of the former diverse other things, and we give counsel thereupon what the four into titles and tables, to give the better light for the people shall do for the prevention and remedy of them.” drawing of observations and axioms out of them. These And when he had said this, he stood up. And I, as I had we call Compilers.

been taught, kneeled down, and he laid his right hand upon “We have three that bend themselves, looking into the my head, and said :—“God bless thee, my son; and God experiments of their fellows, and casting about how to draw bless this relation which I have made. I give thee leave out of them things of use and practice for man's life and to publish it, for the good of other nations; for we here are knowledge, as well for works as for plain demonstration of in God's bosom, a land unknown.” And so he left me, causes, means of natural divinations, and the easy and clear having assigned a value of about two thousand ducats for discovery of the virtues and parts of bodies. These we call a bounty to me and my fellows. For they give great Dowry-men, or Benefactors.

largesses where they come, upon all occasions. “Then after diverse meetings and consults of our whole

The rest was not perfected. number, to consider of the former labours and collections, we have three that take care out of them to direct new experiments of a higher light, more penetrating into nature than the former. These we call Lamps.

“We have three others that do execute the experimente so directed, and report them. These we call Inoculators.

Lastly, we have three that raise the former discoveries, by experiments, into greater observations, axioms, and aphorisms. These we call Interpreters of Nature.

“We have also, as you must think, novices and apprentices, that the succession of the former employed men do not fail, besides a great number of servants and attendants—men and women. And this we do also: we have consultations which of the inventions and experiences which we have discovered shall be published, and which not; and take all an oath of secrecy for the concealing of those which we think fit to keep secret, though some of those we do reveal sometimes to the State, and some not.

“For our ordinances and rites, we have two very long and fair galleries : in one of these we place patterns and samples of all manner of the more rare and excellent inventions; in the other we place the statues of all principal inventors. There we have the statue of your Columbus, that discovered the West Indies ; also the inventor of ships ; your monk, that was the inventor of ordnance and of gunpowder; the inventor of music; the inventor of letters; the inventor of printing ; the inventor of observations of astronomy; the inventor of works in metal; the inventor of glass ; the inventor of silk of the worm; the inventor of wine; the inventor of corn and bread; the inventor of sugars; and all

JOHN MILTON, AGED TWENTY-ONE. these by more certain tradition than you have. Then have

From Vertue's Engraving of the original Picture. we diverse inventors of our own of excellent works, which, since you have not seen, it were too long to make descriptions

CHAPTER V. of them; and besides, in the right understanding of those descriptions you might easily err; for upon every invention

UNDER CHARLES I. AND THE COMMONWEALTH. — of value we erect a statue to the inventor, and give him a

A.D. 1625 to A.D. 1660. liberal and honourable reward. These statues are, some of brass, some of marble and touchstone,' some of cedar and other

Ben Jonson was fifty-one years old at the accession special woods, gilt and adorned, some of iron, some of silver,

of Charles I., and he lived, in weak health, the chief some of gold.

poet of the time, during the first twelve years of the “We have certain hymns and services, which we say

reign, dying in 1637 at the age of sixty-three. Among daily, of laud and thanks to God for His marvellous Works,

the papers found after his death was his pastoral play and forms of prayers imploring His aid and blessing for the

“The Sad Shepherd," of which a part is lost, the illumination ,

of our labours, and the turning of them into beginning of a domestic tragedy, an English gramgood and holy uses.

mar, and a series of thoughts in prose which he called “Lastly, we have circuits, or visits, of direrse principal Discoveries,” and which seem to have been written

at intervals, during the last years of his life, as they 1 Touchstone, Lydian stone, or basanite, is silicious schist almost

were suggested by his observation or his reading. as compact as flint, called touchstone because it was used to indicate the purity of gold by the streak left where the gold had been drawn

By “discovery" he meant, according to a sense of across it.

the word then usual, uncovering, unmasking, and

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endeavour to look below their disguises at the truths Ingeniorum discrimina. Not. 1.-In the difference of wits, of life ; or of literature, which is but the voice of I have observed there are many notes : and it is a little life when most intent on its day labour.

maistry to know them; to discern what every nature, every Here is a selection from Ben Jonson's

disposition will bear : for, before we sow our land, we should plough it. There are no fewer forms of minds than of bodies

amongst us. The variety is incredible, and therefore we DISCOVERIES.

must search. Some are fit to make divines, some poets, some Jactura vite. I-What a deal of cold business doth a man lawyers, some physicians : some to be sent to the plough, and misspend the better part of life in! in scattering compli- trades. ments, tendering visits, gathering and venting news, follow- There is no doctrine will do good, where nature is wanting. ing feasts and plays, making a little winter-love in a dark Some wits are swelling and high; others low and still; some

hot and fiery, others cold and dull; one must have a bridle, Beneficia.?_Nothing is a courtesy unless it be meant us;

the other a spur. and that friendly and lovingly. We owe no thanks to rivers, Not. 2.- There be some that are forward and bold; and that they carry our boats; or winds, that they be favouring these will do every little thing easily, I mean that is hard-by and fill our sails; or meats, that they be nourishing. For and next them, which they will utter unretarded without any these are what they are, necessarily. Horses carry us, trees shamefastness. These never perform much, but quickly. shade us, but they know it not. It is true, some men may They are what they are on the sudden; they show presently receive a courtesy, and not know it; but never any man like grain that, scattered on the top of the ground, shoots up received it from him that knew it not. Many men have been but takes no root; has a yellow blade, but the ear empty. cured of diseases by accidents; but they were not remedies. They are wits of good promise at first, but there is an I myself have known one helped of an ague by falling into a ingenistitium : they stand still at sixteen, they get no higher. water, another whipped out of a fever: but no man would Not. 3.-You have others that labour only to ostentation, ever use these for medicines. It is the mind, and not the and are ever more busy about the colours and surface of a event, that distinguisheth the courtesy from wrong. My work, than in the matter and foundation : for that is hid, the adversary may offend the judge with his pride and imper- other is seen. tinences, and I win my cause; but he meant it not to me as Not. 4.-Others, that in composition are nothing but what a courtesy. I escaped pirates by being shipwrecked ; was the

is rough and broken: Quæ per salebras, altaque saxa cadunt. 9 wreck a benefit therefore ? No: the doing of courtesies And if it would come gently, they trouble it of purpose. They aright is the mixing of the respects for his own sake and would not have it run without rubs, as if that style were for mine. He that doeth them merely for his own sake, is more strong and manly that struck the ear with a kind of like one that feeds his cattle to sell them: he hath his horse

These men err not by chance, but knowingly well dressed for Smithfield.

and willingly; they are like men that affect a fashion by Veritas proprium hominis.3_Truth is man's proper good; themselves, have some singularity in a rough, cloak, or hatand the only immortal thing was given to our mortality to band; or their beards specially cut to provoke beholders, and use. No good Christian or ethnic," if he be honest, can miss it : set a mark upon themselves. They would be reprehended no statesman or patriot should. For without truth all the while they are looked on. And this vice, one that is actions of mankind are craft, malice, or what you will, rather authority with the rest, loving, delivers over to them to be than wisdom. Homer says, he hates him worse than hell. imitated; so that ofttimes the faults which he fell into the mouth, that utters one thing with his tongue, and keeps others seek for: this is the danger when vice becomes a another in his breast. Which high expression was grounded precedent. on divine reason: for a lying mouth is a stinking pit, and Not. 5.-Others there are that have no composition at all; murders with the contagion it venteth. Beside, nothing is but a kind of tuning and rhyming fall in what they write. lasting that is feigned ; it will have another face than it had

It runs and slides, and only makes a sound. Women's poets ere long. As Euripides saith, “No lie ever grows old.”

they are called, as you have women's tailors : De vere argutis.1--I do hear them say often, some men are

They write a verse as smootb, as soft as cream; not witty ; because they are not everywhere witty; than

In which there is no torrent, nor scarce stream. which nothing is more foolish. If an eye or a nose be an excellent part in the face, therefore be all eye or nose! I

You may sound these wits, and find the depth of them with think the eyebrow, the forehead, the cheek, chin, lip, or any

your middle finger. They are cream-bowl or but puddle

deep. part else, are as necessary, and natural in the place. But now nothing is good that is natural: right and natural

Not. 6.-Some that turn over all books, and are equally language seems to have least of the wit in it; that which is searching in all papers, that write out of what they presently writhed and tortured is counted the more exquisite. Cloth of

find or meet, without choice; by which means it happens that bodkin or tissue must be embroidered; as if no face were

what they have discredited and impugned in one week, they fair that were not powdered or painted ? no beauty to be had

have before or after extolled the same in another. Such are but in wresting and writhing our own tongue ? Nothing is

all the essayists, even their master Montaigne. These, in all fashionable till it be deformed; and this is to write like a

they write, confess still what books they have read last; and gentleman. All must be affected, and preposterous as our

therein their own folly, so much, that they bring it to the gallant's clothes, sweet bags, and night dressings: in which

stake raw and undigested: not that the place did need it you would think our men lay in like ladies, it is so curious.

neither; but that they thought themselves furnished, and would rent it.

Not. 7.—Some again (who after they have got authority, 1 Throwing away of life.

2 Kindnesses done. 3 Truth is the special property of man.

• Ethnic, heathen. 5 Iliad, ix. 312, 313.

# Discriminations of character. 6. “Ficta omnia celeriter, tanquam fosculi, decidunt, nec simulatum 9 From an epigram of Martial's (xi. 91) to a Chrestillas, who liked potest quidquam esse diuturnum." (Cicero.)

no verses that flow smoothly, but only "those which fall through 7 of the truly witty.

rugged places and high rocks."

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or, which is less, opinion, by their writings, to have read position manly: and how he hath avoided faint, obscure, much) dare presently to feign whole books and authors, and obscene, sordid, humble, improper, or effeminate phrase ; lie safely. For what never was, will not easily be found, not which is not only praised of the most, but commended (which by the most curious.

is worse) especially for that it is nought. Not. 8.—And some, by a cunning protestation against all De Augmentis Scientiarum.Julius Cæsar. ---Lord St. Alban. reading, and false venditation of their own naturals, think to - I have ever observed it to have been the office of a wise divert the sagacity of their readers from themselves, and cool patriot, among the greatest affairs of the state, to take care the scent of their own fox-like thefts; when yet they are so of the Commonwealth of Learning. For schools, they are the rank, as a man may find whole pages together usurped from seminaries of state; and nothing is worthier the study of a one author: their necessities compelling them to read for statesman, than that part of the republic which we call the present use, which could not be in many books; and so come advancement of letters. Witness the care of Julius Cæsar, forth more ridiculously and palpably guilty than those, who who, in the heat of the civil war, writ his books of analogy, because they cannot trace, they yet would slander their and dedicated them to Tully. This made the late Lord St. industry.

Alban entitle his work Novum Organum: which though by Not. 9.-But the wretcheder are the obstinate contemners the most of superficial men, who cannot get beyond the title of all helps and arts; such as presuming on their own of nominals, it is not penetrated, nor understood, it really naturals (which perhaps are excellent) dare deride all diligence openeth all defects of learning whatsoever, and is a book and seem to mock at the terms when they understand not the

Qui longum noto scriptori prorogat ævum." things; thinking that way to get off wittily with their ignorance. These are imitated often by such as are their My conceit of his person was never increased toward him peers in negligence, though they cannot be in nature : and by his place or honours: but I have and do reverence him, they utter all they can think with a kind of violence and in- for the greatness that was only proper to himself, in that he disposition ; unexamined, without relation either to person,

seemed to me ever, by his work, one of the greatest men, and place, or any fitness else: and the more wilful and stubborn most worthy of admiration that had been in many ages. In they are in it, the more learned they are esteemed of the his adversity I ever prayed that God would give him multitude, through their excellent vice of judgment: who strength; for greatness he could not want. Neither could I think those things the stronger that have no art; as if to

condole in a word or syllable for him, as knowing no accident break were better than to open, or to rend asunder gentler could do harm to virtue, but rather help to make it manifest. than to loose.

Not. 10.—It cannot but come to pass that these men who commonly seek to do more than enongh, may sometimes

The word “ Discovery” is used, in the sense applied happen on something that is good and great; but very seldom, to it by Ben Jonson, in John Earle's “Microcosmoand when it comes it does not recompense the rest of their graphie; or, a Piece of the World Discovered.” ill. For their jests, and their sentences (which they only

John Earle, born at York in the year 1600, was and ambitiously seek for) stick out, and are more eminent, sent to Oxford at the age of sixteen, and at twentybecause all is sordid and vile about them; as lights are more three was M.A., and a Fellow of Merton. In 1628, discerned in a thick darkness than a faint shadow. Now he being in his twenty-eighth year, a little volume of because they speak all they can (however unfitly) they are Characters, written by him, was published under the thought to have the greater copy :' where the learned use ever name of “Microcosmographie," because it painted election and a mean, they look back to what they intended at man, the microcosm or world in little. Earle was first, and make all an even and proportioned body. The true a fine scholar, and esteemed at court as wit and artificer will not run away from Nature, as he were afraid of poet; for he was drawn from the University a few her; or depart from life, and the likeness of truth; but speak

years after the publishing of his “Microcosmoto the capacity of his hearers. And though his language graphie," and had lodgings at court as chaplain to differ from the vulgar somewhat, it shall not fly from all

the Earl of Pembroke, who was Lord Chamberlain humanity, with the Tamerlanes, and Tamar-chams of the late

to the King's household. In 1639 the Earl of age, which had nothing in them but the scenical strutting,

Pembroke presented him—then Dr. Earle—to the and furious vociferation, to warrant them to the ignorant

Rectory of Bishopston, in Wiltshire, by which he gapers. He knows it is his only art, so to carry it as none but artificers perceive it. In the meantime, perhaps, he is

remained until 1662, when (under Charles II.) he called barren, dull, lean, a poor writer, or by what con.

was made Bishop of Worcester. He had become tumelious word can come in their cheeks, by these men, who,

Dean of Westminster at the Restoration. He died without labour, judgment, knowledge, or almost sense, are

in 1665, and left behind him the character of one who had been no man's enemy.

He was firm to received or preferred before him. He gratulates them and their fortune. Another age, or juster men, will acknowledge

Church and Crown, but an opponent of intolerance; the virtues of his studies, his wisdom in dividing, his subtlety

a man,” said Dr. Calamy, " that could do good in arguing, with what strength he doth inspire his readers,

against evil, forgive much out of a charitable heart." with what sweetness he strokes them; in inveighing, what

Here are two of John Earle's Characters :sharpness ; in jest, what ur nity he uses : how he doth reign in men's affections; how invade and break in upon them,

AN ANTIQUARY. and makes their minds like the thing he writes. Then in his elocution to behold what word is proper, which hath orna

He is a man strangely thrifty of Time Past, and an enemy ments, which height, what is beautifully translated, where

indeed to his maw, whence he fetches out many things when figures are fit, which gentle, which strong, to show the com

• Horce, "Ars Poetica," 1. 316, which Roscommon translates, with

its preceding context, I Copy, Latin, “copia," abundance. Anything is said to be a copy of

These pass with admiration through the world, anotber as being an increase of its quantity by reproduction.

And bring their author to eternal fame."

somewhat sinisterly, though not on the left side, and they both go jogging in grief together. He is exceedingly censured by the Inns of Court men for that heinous vice, being out of fashion. He cannot speak to a dog in his own dialect, and understands Greek better than the language of a falconer. He has been used to a dark room and dark clothes, and his eyes dazzle at a satin doublet. The hermitage of his study has made him somewhat uncouth in the world, and men make him worse by staring on him. Thus is he silly and ridiculous, and it continues with him for some quarter of a year out of the University. But practise him a little in men, and brush him over with good company, and he shall out-balance those glisterers as much as a solid substance does a feather, or gold gold-lace.

they are now all rotten and stinking. He is one that hath that unnatural disease to be enamoured of old age and wrinkles, and loves all things (as Dutchmen do cheese) the better for being mouldy and worm-eaten. He is of our religion because we say it is most ancient, and yet a broken statue would almost make him an idolater. A great admirer he is of the rust of old monuments, and reads only those characters where time hath eaten out the letters. He will go you forty miles to see a Saint's well or a ruined abbey : and if there be but a cross or stone footstool in the way, he'll be considering it so long till he forget his journey. His estate consists much in shekels and Roman coins, and he hath more pictures of Cæsar than James or Elizabeth. Beggars cozen him with musty things which they have raked from dunghills, and he preserves their rags for precious relics. He loves no library but where there are more spiders' volumes than authors' and looks with great veneration on the antique work of cobwebs. Printed books he contemns as a novelty of this latter age; but a manuscript he pores on everlastingly, especially if the cover be all moth-eaten and the dust make a parenthesis between every syllable. He would give all the books in his study (which are rarities all) for one of the old Roman binding, or six lines of Tully in his own hand. His chamber is hung commonly with strange beasts' skins, and is a kind of charnel house of bones extraordinary, and his discourse upon them, if you will hear him, shall last longer. His very attire is that which is the eldest out of fashion, and you may pick a criticism out of his breeches. He never looks upon himself till he is grey-haired, and then he is pleased with his own antiquity. His grave does not fright him, for he has been used to sepulchros, and he likes death the better because it gathers him to his fathers.

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In 1639 an unnamed writer published a small collection of “Conceits, Clinches, Flashes, and Whimzies,"3 which serve to illustrate the current form of jest among the talkers who desired to set the table in a roar.

Many of these were of his own invention, and invented in cold blood. All of them, doubtless, obtained currency and aided mirth in social gatherings wherever laughter was at home and hungry enough to welcome all food, fresh or stale. I give them with the crust of age by leaving their old spelling.

A DOWNRIGHT SCHOLAR Is one that has much learning in the ore, unwrought and untried, which time and experience fashions and refines. He is good metal in the inside though rough and unscoured without, and therefore hated of the courtier that is quite contrary. The time has got a vein of making him ridiculous, and men laugh at him by tradition, and no unlucky absurdity but is put upon his profession and “done like a scholar.” But his fault is only this, that his mind is somewhat much taken up with his mind, and his thoughts not loaden with any carriage besides. He has not put on the quaint garb of the age which is now become a man's total. He has not humbled his medi. tations to the industry of compliment, nor afflicted his brain in an elaborate leg ! His body is not set upon nice pins to be turning and flexible for every motion, but his scrape is homely and his nod worse. He cannot kiss his hand and cry, Madame, nor talk idly enough to bear her company. His smacking of a gentlewoman? is somewhat too savoury, and he mistakes her nose for her lip. A very woodcock would puzzle him in carving, and he wants the logic of a capon. He has not the glib faculty of sliding over a tale, but his words come squcanishly out of his mouth, and the laughter commonly before the jest. He names this word College too often, and his discourse beats too much on the University. The perplexity of mannerliness will not let him feed, and he is sharp set at an argument when he should cut his meat. He is discarded for a gamester at all games but One and Thirty, and at Tables he reaches not beyond doublets. His fingers are not long and drawn out to handle a fiddle, but his fist is cluncht with the habit of disputing. He ascends a horse


CONCEITS, CLINCHES, FLASHES, AND WHIMZIES. One wondred much what great Scholler this same Finis was, because his name was almost to every booke.

One asked what he was that had a fine wit in Jest. It was answered, a foole in earnest.

One hearing a Usurer say he had been on the pike of Teneriff (which is supposed to be one of the highest hills in the world), asked him why he had not stayd there, for he was perswaded hee would never come 80 neere heaven againe.

A Gentleman that bore a spleene to another mects him in the street, gives him a box on the eare; the other, not willing to stricke againe, puts it off with a jest, asking him whether it was in jest or in earnest? The other answers it was in carnest. I am glad of that, said he, for if it had been in jest, I should have been very angry, for I do not like such jesting; and so past away from him.

Usurers live, sayes one, by the fall of heires, like swine by the dropping of acorns.

One asked his friend how he should use tobacco so that it might do him good ? He answered: you must keepe a tobacco shop and sell it, for certainly there is none else find good in it.

1 Leg, bow. Has not made a stndy of bowing. . The kiss was still used as an act of social courtesy.

3 A small edition of this book (26 copies) was issued by Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps in 1860, aud in 1864 it was reprinted by Mr. W. Carew Hazlitt, in his valuable series of Shakespeare Jest-Books.

A simple fellow in gay cloths, sayes one, is like a Cinnamom One asked why begars stood in the streets begging with tree; the barke is of more worth then the body.

broomes in their hands. It was answe

swered, because they did A Scholler and a Courtier meeting in the street seemd to

with them sweep away the durt out of peoples sight, whicn contest for the wall; sayes the Courtier: I do not use to give

while they had a mind on they would never part with a every coxcombe the wall. The Scholler answered: but I do,

penny. sir; and so passed by him.

A Gentleman tooke up some commodities upon trust in a One asked why Ladyes called their husbands Master such

shop, promising the master of the shop that he would owe

him so much money. a one, and master such a one, and not by their titles of

The master of the shop was therewith knighthood, as Sir Thomas, Sir Richard, Sir William, etc.

very well contented; but seeing that the Gentleman delayed It was answered that, though others called them by their

the paiment, he asked the money. The gentleman told him right titles, as Sir William, Sir Thomas, etc., yet it was fit

he had not promised to pay him, he had promised to owe him their wives should master them.

so much money, and that he would in no wise breake his

promise, which if he paid him he did. Of all knaves there's the greatest hope of a Cobler, for though he be never so idle a fellow, yet he is still

One asked why B stood before c. Because, said another, a mending.

man must B before he can c. A Smith, said one, is the most pragmaticall fellow under

One asked how long the longost letter in the English the Sun, for he hath alwayes many irons in the fire.

Alphabet was. It was answered, an long. Smiths of all handy-crafts men are the most irregular, for

One comming by a Sexton (who was making a grave for one they never thinke themselves better employed, then when they

Button which was a great tal fellow), asked him for whom are addicted to their vices.

that extraordinary long grave was. He answered, he had

made many longer then that, and said it was but a button Glasiers, said one, must needes be good arbitrators, for

hole in respect of some graves that he had made. they spend their whole time in nothing but composing of quarels.

A great tall fellow, whose name was Way, lay along the

strect drunke. One went over him, and being asked why he Carpenters, said one, are the civelest men in a Common

did so, he answered he did but goe along the high-way. wealth, for they never do their buisinesse without a Rule.

Printers (saics one) are the most lawlesse men in a KingOf all wofull friends a hangman is the most trusty : for, if

dome, for they commit faults cum privilegio. he once have to do with a man, he will see him hang'd before hee shall want mony or any thing else.

One said Physitians had the best of it; for, if they did well, the world did proclaime it; if ill, the earth did

The greatest prose work of the reign of Charles I., cover it.

perhaps the greatest in our literature, is Milton's Scriveners are most hard harted fellowes, for they never

Areopagitica, or Speech for the Liberty of Unrejoyce more then when they put other men in bonds.

licensed Printing." Milton, born in 1608, was

seventeen years old at the accession of Charles I., Horse-keepers and ostlers (let the world go which way


and then went to College. He remained at College will, though there be never so much alteration in times and

seven years, and then, having taken his M. A. degree, persons) are still stable men.

spent seven years in special study, five years and One said it was no great matter what a drunkard said three quarters at Horton, during which time he wrote in his drinke, for he seldome spake any thing that he could “L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso," " Arcades," “Comus," stand to.

and "Lycidas," followed by fifteen months of foreign One said of all professions, that Stage-players were the most travel. In June and July, 1639, Milton returned, philosophicall men that were, because they were as merry and and soon afterwards he took a garden house in as well contented, when they were in rags as when they were Aldersgate Street, where he established a school. in robes.

Danger of civil war then occupied men's thoughts, One said Painters were cunning fellowes, for they had a

and the series of Milton's prose works—which reprecolour for every thing they did.

sented simply his contribution of opinion and One said Gallants had reason to be good Schollers, because

argument to the great controversies of the timethey were deep in many books.

began in 1641 with pamphlets upon the most burning

question of that year. Swords may clash as they An Upholster was chiding his Apprentice, because he was

will, but their victories leave all undecided, open to not nimble enough at his worke, and had not his nailes and

fresh strife that will come in sooner or later" for hammar in readines, when he should use them, telling him

what can war but endless war still breed ?"_unless that, when he was an Apprentice, he was taught to havo his

reason side with the battalions and approve their nailes at his fingers ends.

The only war that can have happy issue is One, drinking of a cup of burnt claret, said he was not

of thought opposed to thought; this is and must be able to let it down. Another demanded why. He answered, the essential part of every battle tha concerns the because it was red hot.

interests of man. In this conflict it was Milton's An Inkecper brag'd he had a bed so large that two hundred duty, as it is the duty of every citizen in time of Constables had lyen in it at one time, meaning two Constables danger to the commonwealth, to be at bis post ; and of hundreds.

the period of Milton's prose writing, which extended One said to his friend that had been speaking: I love to

over man's best years of ripened vigour—from the age heare a man talk nonsense; the other answered, I know you of thirty-three to that of fifty-two—was a willing love to heare youre selfe talke as well as any man.

sacrifice of all his aspiration as a poet, that he might



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