400	FBIEDBICH	NIETZSCHE	"^	"'	'^	^	-
	Eisner,	K.	Ptyehopathia	BpiritualU.	Fr,	N.	und	die	Apoatel	der
	ZukunfU	1892,	Leipsic,	W.	Friedrich.	99.
	EUifl,	H.	Fn	N.	April,	July,	and	August,	1896,	"The	Savoy,"
	pp.	79-94,	68-82,	57-64.
	Affirmations.	1898,	London,	Scott,	\'ii.,	pp.	1-85.	(Same	as
	above.)
	"	Encyclopedia	Brit."	German	Literature	since	1870.	1902,	vol.	xxviii.,
	FP.	719-20,	and	Fr.	N.	1902,	vol.	xxxi.,	p.	236.
	••	Encyclopedia,	The	New	Intern."	F,	N.	1903,	vol.	xiii.,	pp.	101-102.
	Erdmann,	C.	O.	"	Voni	Monopol	aitf	N."	[D.	N.	Archiv.]	1907,
	♦'	Kunstwart,"	Juni,	294-299.
	Eriez,	J.	N.	ct	le	lyrincipe	d'aristocratie.	October	15,	1900,	"La
	Vogue."
	Erikson,	A.	Inledning.	(About	F.	N.)	In	the	Swedish	translations	of
	"	Zarathustra."	1897,	1900,	1905,	Stockholm.
	Ernest,	Ch.	J.	Fr.	N.	December	20,	1902,	"	La	Revue	bleue."
	Ernst,	P.	Fr.	N.	1890,	*♦	Freie	Biihne,"	Juni.
	Fr.	N.	1904,	Berlin.	Gose	and	Tetzloff.	47.
	Ettlinger,	M.	Ncite	Nictzschc'litcratur.	1904,	Kempten,	Kosel.
	"nochhuid,"	pp.	719-750.
	Everett,	C.	C.	Beyond	Good	and	Evil.	December,	1898,	"New
	AVorld,"	pp.	684-703.	(The	same	as	in	E.'s	Essays	:	Theo-
	logical	and	Literary.)
	Ewald,	0.	N.	und	die	Frtiuen.	1903,	Wien,	"	Die	Wage,"	Nr.	50.
	N.*8	Lehrc	in	ihren	GrundbctjriJJ'en.	1903,	Berlin,	Hofmann	&
	Co.	141.
	N,*8	Nach/uli/er.	1905,	"	Gegenwart,"	Nr.	22.
	♦
	F.
	"	Fabian	News."	N.	July,	1898.
	Faguet,	E.	Le	premier	livre	de	N.	F6v.	25,	1902,	"	La	Revue	Latine."
	En	lisant	N.	1904,	Paris,	Soci^t<5	francaise	d'imprimerie.	862.
	Falckenberg,	R.	Fr.	N.	1898,	Geschichte	d.	neueren	Philosophic,
	Leipsic,	pp.	451,	&c.
	Falkenfeld,	M.	Marx	utid	N.	1899,	Leipsic.	29.
	Findel,	T.	G.	ZaruthuHira'H	Vtroijhnumj.	1901,	Leipsic.
	Fischer,	G.	Fr.	iV.,	der	^'Antichrist"	in	der	ncuesten	Philosophie.
	1906,	Regensburg,	Munz.	257.
	Flach.	Untersuchungen	iiher	Fudokia	und	Suidas.	1879,	Leipsic,.
	pp.	50,	A:c.
	Flake,	O.	N.'s	zwcltc	Periode.	1902,	"	Allg.	Zeitung,"	4,	pp.	281-284.
	Foerster,	E.	(Foerster-Nietzsche.)	Das	Lehen	Fr.	N.'s.	1895-1904,
	Leipsic,	Naumann.	Vol.	i.,	viii,	369.	Vol.	ii.,	1st	Part,
	Lx,	1-341.	Vol.	ii.,	2na	Part,	vi,	345-944.
	Preface	to	her	German	translation	of	"	La	Philosophic	de	N.,	par
	II.	Liohtenberger."	1899,	Dresden.


SCHILLER,	A	PHILOSOPHICAL	POET.
	A	GAIN	and	again	has	the	question	been	raised	whether	philosoph-
	1JL	ical	or	scientific	poetry	is	possible,	and	upon	the	whole	it	has
	been	answered	in	the	negative.	I	beg	to	differ	from	the	commonly
	accepted	view	and	would	say	that	poetry	may	invade	any	domain
	without	ceasing	to	be	poetry.	The	main	difficulty	of	philosophical
	and	scientific	poetry	lies	in	the	restriction	of	the	subject	to	an	ex
	tremely	limited	public	and	that	is	the	reason	why	philosophical
	poetry	does	not	find	the	all	but	universal	recognition	of	love	songs.
	The	possibility	of	philosophical	poetry	is	best	proved	by	the
	fact	of	its	existence,	but	the	truth	is	that	the	general	public	has	not
	become	acquainted	with	it	or	knows	it	only	from	hearsay.	The
	large	masses	will	never	read,	much	less	appreciate,	philosophical
	poems.
	Philosophical	poetry	is	like	classical	music	;	few	are	the	con
	noisseurs	that	can	really	judge	of	its	merits.	In	a	certain	sense	we
	may	call	Beethoven	the	philosopher	among	composers.	His	sonatas,
	though	breathing	all	the	freedom	of	art,	exhibit	a	logical	consistency
	which	makes	them	appear	like	revelations	of	the	law	that	is	shaping
	the	world	;	yet,	since	they	are	expressed	in	chords	and	tone-figures,
	his	compositions	appeal	directly	to	sentiment,	and	their	truth	is
	felt	even	when	not	fully	understood	a	fact	which	considerably
	widens	the	audience	of	the	music	philosopher.	We	must	not	expect
	such	a	music	philosopher	to	be	as	popular	as	a	ragtime	composer,
	and	for	the	same	reason	poems	of	philosophical	significance	will
	naturally	find	few	admirers.
	Philosophical	poetry	flourished	in	Germany	in	the	classical
	period	when	its	intellectual	horizon	was	decked	with	a	galaxy	of
	stars	of	the	first	magnitude,	such	as	Klopstock,	Goethe,	Herder,
	Schiller,	Lessing.	Kant,	Beethoven,	Bach,	Mozart,	and	Haydn.
	In	order	to	forestall	any	possible	misinterpretation,	we	must
	first	of	all	explain	what	we	understand	by	poetry.	Poetry	is	cer-


Prefatory	Remarks.	xxxv
	sion	with	the	samyn	to	the	said	James	Lytgow,	onlie	execur	tesf
	to	the	said	umquhile	Alesone	Grahame,	his	spous	;	Reservand
	compt,	&c.,	quha	being	sworne,	&c.,	and	Oliver	Kay,	merchand,	bur-
	ges	of	Edr	is	become	cautioner."	*
	The	will	throws	important	light	on	the	position	of	the	Traveller.
	We	learn	from	it	that	Lithgow's	parents	occupied	a	respectable	station
	in	Lanark,	the	usual	winter	abode	of	the	County	proprietors.	His
	father	certainly	was	not	a	laird,	in	the	proper	sense	of	the	word,	but
	his	moveable	estate,	for	the	period,	was	considerable.	Few	of	his
	higher-born	neighbours	could	boast	of	the	possession	of	half	his	per
	sonal	wealth.	He	was	resident	in	a	Royal	burgh,	where	he	owned
	in	his	own	right	a	house,	garden,	and	at	least	"	twa	half	acres	of	land."
	He	was	in	all	likelihood	what	used	of	old	to	be	called	in	Scotland
	"	a	merchant,"	a	designation	indiscriminately	applied	in	that	country,
	till	recently,	to	all	persons	in	trade,	without	respect	to	its	being	whole
	sale	or	retail.	Indeed,	in	the	year	1604	and	later,	a	merchant,	in	the
	English	sense	of	the	word,	was	not	known	on	this	side	of	the	Tweed.
	The	old	gentleman,	moreover,	was	a	Burgess	of	Lanark	;	and	it	is
	not	unworthy	of	remark	that	members	of	most	of	the	influential	families
	in	the	neighbourhood	did	not	think	it	beneath	their	dignity	to	be	also
	so	denominated.	Thus	the	Carmichaels,	originally	Lords	of	Parlia
	ment	as	Barons,	and	latterly	as	Earls,	were,	at	least	many	of	them,
	Burgesses	of	Lanark.	So	were	the	Chancellors	of	Shieldhill,	an	an
	cient	race,	the	Johnstons	of	Westraw,	and	many	other	individuals
	of	noble	and	gentle	blood.	These	persons	usually	possessed	houses,
	gardens,	and	acres	in	Lanark,	which	they	continued	to	occupy,	until
	fashion,	that	inflexible	despot,	transferred	their	habitations	to	the	Scot-
	ish	metropolis.
	Neither,	in	that	part	of	Scotland,	did	the	exercise	of	a	trade	exclude
	intercourse	with	the	landowners.	Whilst	searching	the	Register	of
	*	Edinburgh	Commissary	Record,	Vol.	xxxix.
	H


240	PRINCIPLES	OF	THEORETICAL	CHEMISTRY.
	it	is	plain	that	there	are	three	kinds	of	relations	which	any
	one	hydrogen	atom	bears	to	the	others	considered	indi-
	vidually.	Thus,	the	relation	of	1	to	2	is	different	from
	that	of	1	to	3	or	1	to	4.	The	relation	of	1	to	5	is	identical
	with	that	of	1	to	3,	and	that	of	1	to	6	is	identical	with	that
	of	1	to	2.	Hence,	if	X	be	substituted	for	H.I,	and	another
	X	for	another	hydrogen,	three	different	products	ought	to
	result	according	as	the	second	X	takes	the	place	of	H.2,
	H.3,	or	H.4.	The	same	statements	hold	good,	whether	we
	start	with	H.I	or	H.2,	or	any	of	the	other	hydrogen	atoms.
	It	will	thus	be	seen	that	the	formula	is	in	strict	harmony
	with	the	observed	fact	that	there	are	three	and	only	three
	classes	of	di-substitution-products	of	benzene.
	In	a	similar	way	it	can	be	shown	that	the	formula	is
	in	harmony	with	the	fact	that	of	the	tri-substitution-pro-
	ducts	containing	different	substituting	groups	there	are
	more	than	three	varieties,	while	of	those	in	which	all
	three	substituting	groups	are	the	same	there	are	only
	three	varieties;	though	not	much	weight	can	be	attached
	to	this	as	yet,	as	the	subject	has	not	been	investigated	to
	a	sufficient	extent	to	furnish	a	sufficient	basis	of	facts.
	There	is	another	fact	which,	if	interpreted	by	the	aid
	of	the	valency	hypothesis,	also	speaks	in	favor	of	the
	above	formula.	This	formula	does	not	account	for	all
	the	bonds	of	carbon.	It	is	not	known	what	relation
	exists	between	these	carbon	atoms.	Various	formulas
	have	been	suggested	with	the	object	of	showing	how	the
	bonds	are	disposed	of,	but	they	are	all	open	to	the	serious
	objection	that	they	express	relations	about	which	we	know
	practically	nothing.	At	the	present	stage	of	our	knowledge
	it	makes	little	difference	whether	we	write	the	formula	:
	or
	CH	HC
	both	of	which	are	in	use.	It	is	better	not	to	write	either,
	but	to	use	the	simple	figure	above	given,	which	does	not


MADAME	DE	MATJVES.	381
	to	live	in	France,	and	you	want	to	be	happy,	don	t
	listen	too	hard	to	that	little	voice	I	just	spoke	of,
	the	voice	that	is	neither	the	cure	s	nor	the	world	s.
	You	11	fancy	it	saying	things	that	it	won	t	help	your
	case	to	hear.	They	11	make	you	sad,	and	when	you	re
	sad	you	11	grow	plain,	and	when	you	re	plain	you	11
	grow	bitter,	and	when	you	re	bitter	you	11	be	very
	disagreeable.	I	was	brought	up	to	think	that	a
	woman	s	first	duty	was	to	please,	and	the	happiest
	women	I	ve	known	have	been	the	ones	who	performed
	this	duty	faithfully.	As	you	re	not	a	Catholic,	I	sup
	pose	you	can	t	be	a	devote	;	and	if	you	don	t	take	life
	as	a	fifty	years	mass,	the	only	way	to	take	it	is	as	a
	game	of	skill.	Listen	:	not	to	lose,	you	must,	I
	don	t	say	cheat	;	but	don	t	be	too	sure	your	neighbor
	won	t,	and	don	t	be	shocked	out	of	your	self-possession
	if	he	does.	Don	t	lose,	my	dear	;	I	beseech	you,	don	t
	lose.	Be	neither	suspicious	nor	credulous;	but	if	you
	find	your	neighbor	peeping,	don	t	cry	out,	but	very
	politely	wait	your	own	chance.	I	ve	had	my	revanche
	more	than	once	in	my	day,	but	I	m	not	sure	that	the
	sweetest	I	could	take	against	life	as	a	whole	would
	be	to	have	your	blessed	innocence	profit	by	my	expe
	rience."
	This	was	rather	awful	advice,	but	Euphemia	under
	stood	it	too	little	to	be	either	edified	or	frightened.
	She	sat	listening	to	it	very	much	as	she	would	have


POEMS	ON	SLAVERY.
	TO	WILLIAM	E.	CHANNING.
	pages	of	thy	book	I	read,
	And	as	I	closed	each	one,
	My	heart,	responding,	ever	said,
	"	Servant	of	God,	well	done!"
	Well	done!	thy	words	are	great	and	bold;
	At	times	they	seem	to	me
	Like	Luther's,	in	the	days	of	old,
	Half-battles	for	the	free.
	Go	on,	until	this	land	revokes
	The	old	and	chartered	lie,
	The	feudal	curse,	whose	whips	and	yokes
	Insult	humanity.
	A	voice	is	ever	at	thy	side,
	Speaking	in	tones	of	might,
	Like	the	prophetic	voice	that	cried,
	To	John	in	Patmos,	"	Write!"
	Write!	and	tell	out	this	bloody	tale,
	Record	this	dire	eclipse,
	This	lay	of	wrath,	this	endless	wail,
	This	dread	Apocalypse	!


394	PASSAGES	FROM	THE	LIFE
	able,	who,	for	above	forty	years,	have	been	exceeding
	great	sufferers	for	their	profession.
	Besides	these	general	doctrines,	as	the	larger	branches,
	there	sprang	forth	several	particular	doctrines,	that	did
	exemplify	and	farther	explain	the	truth	and	efficacy	ol
	the	general	doctrine	before	observed,	in	their	lives	and
	examples;	as,	Communion	and	loving	one	another.	To
	love	enemies.	The	sufficiency	of	truth-speaking,,	accord
	ing	to	Christ	s	own	form	of	sound	words,	of	yea,	yea,
	and	nay,	nay,	among	Christians,	without	swearing.	Not
	fighting,	but	suffering,	because	all	wars	and	fightings
	come	of	men	s	own	hearts	lusts,	and	not	of	the	meek
	Spirit	of	Christ	Jesus.	Refusing	to	pay	tithes	or	main
	tenance	to	a	national	ministry	;	believing	all	compelled
	maintenance	to	be	unlawful.	Not	to	respect	persons	;
	affirming	it	to	be	sinful	to	give	nattering	titles,	or	to	use
	vain	gestures	and	compliments	of	respect.	They	used
	the	plain	language	of	thee	and	thou	to	a	single	person,
	whatever	was	his	degree	among	men.	They	recommended
	silence	by	their	example.	They	were	at	a	word	in	deal
	ing	;	and,	when	in	company,	they	would	neither	use,	nor
	willingly	hear	unnecessary	or	unlawful	discourses	;	where
	by	they	preserved	their	minds	pure	and	undisturbed	from
	unprofitable	thoughts	and	diversions.	For	the	same
	reason	they	forebore	drinking	to	people,	or	pledging	of
	them,	as	the	manner	of	the	world	is.	They	say	that
	marriage	is	an	ordinance	of	God,	and	that	God	only	can
	rightly	join	man	and	woman	in	marriage	;	therefore	they
	use	neither	priest	nor	magistrate	;	but	the	man	and	wo
	man	concerned	take	each	other	as	husband	and	wife,	in
	the	presence	of	divers	credible	witnesses,	promising	to


90	THE	CANTERBURY	TALES.
	Of	usur,	and	of	symony	also	;
	But	certes	lecchours	did	he	grettest	woo	;
	Thay	schulde	synge,	if	that	they	were	hent;
	And	smale	tythers	thay	were	fouly	schent,
	If	eny	persoun	wold	upon	hem	pleyne,
	Ther	might	astert	him	no	pecunial	peyne.
	For	smale	tythes	and	for	smal	offrynge,	1
	He	made	the	poeple	pitously	to	synge.
	For	er	the	bisschop	caught	hem	in	his	hook,	1
	They	weren	in	the	archedeknes	book:	3
	And	hadde	thurgh	his	jurediccioun
	Power	to	have	of	hem	correccioun.
	He	had	a	sompnour	redy	to	his	hond,
	A	slyer	boy	was	noon	in	Engelond;
	Ful	prively	he	had	his	espiaile,
	That	taughte	him	wher	he	might	avayle.
	He	couthe	spare	of	lecchours	oon	or	tuo,
	To	techen	him	to	four	and	twenty	mo.
	For	though	this	sompnour	wood	were	as	an	hare,
	To	telle	his	harlotry	I	wol	not	spare;
	For	we	ben	out	of	here	correccioun,
	They	have	of	us	no	jurediccioun,*
	1	The	neglect	to	pay	tithes	and	Easter	offerings	came	under	the
	archdeacon's	jurisdiction,	as	the	bishop's	diocesan	officer.	The	friar	does
	not	scruple	to	make	an	invidious	use	of	this	subject	at	the	expense	of	the
	parochial	clergy,	because,	being	obliged	by	his	rule	to	gain	his	liveli
	hood	by	begging,	he	had	no	interest	in	tithes.
	2	An	allusion	to	the	bishop's	pastoral	staff,	which	was	in	the	shape
	of	a	sheep-hook.	Its	form	and	symbolical	meaning	are	thus	described
	in	the	Vision	of	Piers	Plowman:
	1	Dobest	is	above	bothe,
	And	bent	h	a	bischopis	'	crois,'
	And	is	hnkil	on	that	on	end
	To	halie	men	fro	helle,
	And	a	pike	is	in	the	poynt
	To	put	adon	the	wyked.	1
	3	Offenders	were,	in	the	first	instance,	summoned	before	the	arch
	deacon,	and	afterwards,	if	found	incorrigible,	transferred	to	the	bishop,
	who	alone	had	the	power	of	inflicting	the	greater	excommunication.
	4	The	religious	orders,	but	particularly	the	mendicants	or	friars,	were,
	by	special	dispensation	of	the	pope,	exempt	from	the	bishop's	jurisdic
	tion,	and	placed	under	that	of	their	general	or	superior	only,	with,	of
	course,	an	appeal	to	the	supreme	pontiff.	This	was	a	fertile	subject	of


I	HAVE	LOOKED	ON	A	FACE.
	[	have	looked	on	a	face	that	has	looued	in	my	heart,
	As	deep	as	the	moon	ever	fathoms	a	wave;
	As	uncomprehended	it	came	to	depart,
	While	a	sense	of	its	glory	was	all	that	it	gave.
	Where	she	passed	the	Alp	blossoms	grew	pallid	and
	shrank,
	As	a	taper	in	sunlight	sinks	faint	and	aghast;
	And	now	o'er	her	path	swims	a	terrible	blank,
	A	gulf	in	the	air	where	her	beauty	hath	passed.


ENGLISH	RATIONALISM	AND	THE	REVOLUTION	235
	Parliament	and	in	the	pulpit	as	a	right	dear	though	erring
	sister	;	l	while	former	attempts	at	a	reconciliation	with	the
	Papacy	were	recalled	with	high	approval.	Finally,	at	a	time	of
	bitter	financial	distress,	a	million	sterling	was	voted	for	building
	new	churches	;	the	grant	being	subsequently	supplemented	by
	another	half	million.	2
	A	more	subtle	indication	of	the	new	drift	in	public	opinion,
	and	also	a	fresh	illustration	of	the	English	tendency	to	com
	promise,	is	furnished	by	the	return	of	Unitarianism	to	something
	like	its	former	importance.	According	to	Coleridge,	writing	in
	1817,	it	had	at	that	time	taken	the	place	formerly	occupied	by
	deism	;	3	and	just	as	formerly	many	had	secretly	held	deistical
	opinions	under	a	mask	of	orthodoxy,	so	now	the	number	of
	those	who	in	other	denominations	held	Unitarian	opinions	was
	tenfold	greater	than	that	of	its	professed	adherents.
	Such	was	the	political	and	religious	reaction	which	deter
	mined	Wordsworth	s	whole	later	attitude	towards	contemporary
	life	and	thought.	It	had,	as	the	dates	prove,	but	a	remote	and
	indirect	connexion	with	the	French	Eevolution	;	and	so	we	can
	easily	understand	how	the	poet	s	youthful	liberalism	could
	survive	down	to	the	close	of	the	great	war.	From	a	literary
	point	of	view,	this	was	fortunate	;	for	the	love	of	liberty	and	of
	pure	naturalism	formed	so	integral	an	element	in	his	genius
	that	it	at	once	sank	to	mediocrity	under	the	yoke	of	another
	allegiance.	The	high	and	tender	Muses,	who,	in	his	pan
	theistic	days,	had	inspired	the	poet	with	immortal	thoughts
	and	images	and	words,	frowned	on	the	composition	of	his
	Ecclesiastical	Sonnets.	Among	all	the	countless	phrases	with
	which	he	has	enriched	the	English	language	I	cannot	find
	that	they	have	yielded	one.	Among	all	the	quotations	from	him
	occurring	in	our	literature	one	at	most	can	be	traced	to	them.	4
	Out	of	the	three	series,	numbering	altogether	117	sonnets,
	Matthew	Arnold	has	only	considered	three	worthy	of	a	place
	in	his	selection.	Sometimes,	though	rarely,	the	dreary	waste
	of	prose	is	lit	up	by	a	gleam	of	the	old	fire.	But	it	will	be
	1	Coleridge	s	Church	and	State,	p.	143.
	-	Sir	Spencer	Walpole	s	History	of	England,	Vol.	I.,	p.	388.
	J	Coleridge	s	Church	and	State,	etc.,	p.	373.
	1	Sleeps	the	future	as	a	snake	enrolled	coil	within	coil.


100	HUDIBRAS	TO	HIS	LADY.
	Nor	lawyers,	to	join	land	and	money
	In	th'	holy	state	of	matrimony,	250
	Before	they	settled	hands	and	hearts,
	Till	alimony	or	death	departs	;
	Nor	would	endure	to	stay	until
	Th'	had	got	the	very	bride's	good	will,
	But	took	a	wise	and	shorter	course	200
	To	win	the	ladies,	downright	force	;
	And	justly	made	'em	prisoners	then,
	As	they	have,	often	since,	us	men,
	With	acting	plays,	and	dancing	jigs,
	The	luckiest	of	all	Love's	intrigues	;	260
	And	when	they	had	them	at	their	pleasure,
	They	talk'd	of	love	and	flames	at	leisure	;
	For	after	matrimony	's	over,
	He	that	holds	out	but	half	a	lover,
	Deserves,	for	every	minute,	more	265
	Than	half	a	year	of	love	before	;
	For	which	the	dames,	in	contemplation
	Of	that	best	way	of	application,
	Prov'd	nobler	wives	than	e'er	were	known,
	By	suit,	or	treaty,	to	be	won	;	270
	And	such	as	all	posterity
	CouH	never	equal,	nor	come	nigh.
	For	women	first	were	made	for	men,
	Not	men	for	them.	It	follows,	then,
	That	men	have	right	to	ev'ry	one,	275
	And	they	no	freedom	of	their	own	;
	And	therefore	men	have	pow'r	to	choose,
	But	they	no	charter	to	refuse.
	Hence	'tis	apparent	that,	what	course
	Soe'er	we	take	to	your	amours,	280
	Though	by	the	indirectest	way,


THE	SCOTTISH	BORDER.
	"	The	night	is	mirk,	and	it	's	very	mirk,
	And	by	candle-light	I	canna	weel	see	;
	The	night	is	mirk,	and	it	's	very	pit	mirk,
	And	there	will	never	a	nail	ca'	right	for	me."-
	"	Shame	fa'	you	and	your	trade	baith,
	Canna	beet	1	a	good	fellow	by	your	mystery;	2
	But	leeze	me	on	thee,	my	little	black	mare,
	Thou	's	worth	thy	weight	in	gold	to	me."
	There	was	horsing,	horsing	in	haste,
	And	there	was	marching	upon	the	lee	;
	Until	they	cam	to	Dumfries	port,
	And	they	lighted	there	right	speedilie.
	"	There	's	five	of	us	will	hold	the	horse,
	And	other	five	will	watchmen	be	:
	But	wha	's	the	man	among	ye	a',
	Will	gae	to	the	Tolbooth	door	wi'	me?"
	up	then	spak	him	mettled	John	HaU,
	(Frae	the	Laigh	Teviotdale	was	he),
	"	If	it	should	cost	my	life	this	very	night,
	I	'U	gae	to	the	Tolbooth	door	wi'	thee."

	"	Be	of	gude	cheir,	now,	Archie,	lad	I
	Be	of	gude	cheir,	now,	dear	billie	1
	119
	1	Beet	Abet,	aid.	2	Mystery	Trade.	See	Shakspeara.


162	THE	LAND	OF	HEART'S	DESIRE
	THE	CHILD.	Hide	it	away	!
	BRIDGET	BRUIN.	I	have	begun	to	be	afraid,
	again	!
	THE	CHILD.	Hide	it	away	!
	MAURTEEN	BRUIN.	That	would	be	wicked-
	ness!
	BRIDGET	BRUIN.	That	would	be	sacrilege	!
	THE	CHILD.	The	tortured	thing	!
	Hide	it	away	!
	MAURTEEN	BRUIN.	Her	parents	are	to
	blame.
	FATHER	HART.	That	is	the	image	of	the
	Son	of	God.
	[THE	CHILD	puts	her	arm	round	his	neck	and
	kisses	him.]
	THE	CHILD.	Hide	it	away	!	Hide	it	away	!
	MAURTEEN	BRUIN.	No!	no!


INDEX.
	King-birds,	6
	Kingfisher,	16
	Landor,	W.	S.,	162.	His	pseudo-classi
	cism,	165
	Langland,	188.	His	poetry,	191,	192.
	Compared	with	Chaucer,	192
	Langue	d	oil,	181
	Lessing,	his	estimate	of	Pope,	315
	Lincoln,	Abraham,	67,	114.	His	entrance
	into	office,	116.	As	a	statesman	and
	ruler,	118
	Longfellow	s	subjects,	164
	Lovelace	s	poems,	W.	C.	Hazlitt	s	edition
	of,	246
	Mandrake,	superstition	concerning	the,
	230
	Marie	de	France,	her	poetry,	189,	200
	Marston	and	Lilly,	their	works,	218.
	Their	poetry,	226
	Mather,	Increase,	his	Remarkable	Pro
	vidences,	216.	His	editor,	219
	Milton	s	Samson	Agonistes,	164.	His
	aesthetic	principles	and	literary	judg
	ments,	281
	Minnesingers,	their	works,	176
	Montaigne,	according	to	Carlyle,	100
	Mouskes,	Phillippe,	his	rhymes,	2O2
	Occleve	s	portrait	of	Chaucer,	170.	His
	poetry,	iqi
	Offor,	Mr.	George,	his	edition	of	Mather	s
	Remarkable	Providences,	219-222
	Opera,	the,	164
	Oratorio,	the,	164
	Orford,	Earl	of,	162
	Oriole,	the,	12
	Overbury,	Sir	Thomas,	his	Characters,
	217
	Pearson,	Dr.,	of	Andover	Academy,	78
	Petrarch,	187
	Pewees,	17
	Phillips,	Edward,	his	Theatrum	Poeta-
	rum,	281,	494
	Piers	Ploughman,	191-194
	Percival,	James	Gates,	Life	and	Letters
	of,	135.	His	works,	136
	Poetry,	early	English,	188,	189
	Pope,	Alexander,	281.	His	place	in
	poetry,	296.	His	works,	297-315.	His
	correspondence,	311
	Popularity	and	lasting	fame,	89
	Provencal	literature,	175
	Quail,	15
	Quarles,	his	works,	218
	Quincy,	Josiah,	life	of,	63,	72-87	His
	speeches,	81.	His	works,	84
	Rabelais,	96
	Retrospective	Review,	the,	214
	Riding-rhymes,	201,	203,	204
	Robin,	the,	6
	Roman	poetry,	176
	Rutebeuf,	his	poetry,	201
	Slavery	in	America,	127.	Abolition	of,	131
	Smith,	John	Russell,	his	old	authors,	214,
	216.	His	editors,	218.	\-	:-
	Snow,	32.	Footprints	in,	33
	Southwell,	Robert,	his	poetry,	217
	State	rights,	doctrine	of,	129
	Statesmanship,	function	of,	126
	Swallows,	1	6
	Swift,	Dean,	his	religion,	292
	Swinburne,	bis	Tragedies,	157
	Tanhauser,	old	poem	of,	167
	Taste,	good,	293
	Tennyson	s	subjects,	164
	Thomson	s	Winter,	282
	Thoreau,	Henry	D.,	145.	His	writings,
	149
	Thrush,	Wilson	s,	17
	Transcendental	movement,	147,	148
	Tree	sparrow,	14
	Troubadours,	poetry	of	the,	175
	Trouveres,	works	of	the,	179
	Turnbull,	W.	B.,	his	edition	of	South
	well	s	poems,	219,	220
	Turtle-dove,	15
	Voltaire,	according	to	Carlyle,	100.	On
	English	authors,	290,	291
	Vulgarity,	50-52
	Waller,	his	improvement	of	the	Maid	s
	Tragedy,	289,	294
	Ward	s	Life	and	Letters	of	James	Gates
	Percival,	135
	Warton,	Joseph,	his	essay	on	the	Genius
	and	Writings	of	Pope,	282,	313
	Weather,	the,	3
	Whist,	30
	White	s	Natural	History	of	Selborne,	i
	Wild-geese,	6
	Winter,	a	good	word	for,	18
	Wither,	George,	his	poetry,	217
	Woodcock,	16
	Women,	virtuous,	309,	310
	Yellow-birds,	9
	Sfiottis-woode	&	Co.,	Printers,	New-street	Square	and	Parliament	Street.


ALEXANDER	DALLAS	II.	OF	CANTRAY	113
	tiam	realem	actualem	et	corporalem	possessionem	totarum
	et	integrarum	terrarum	ville	ecclesiastice	de	Croy	cum	pen-
	diculis	et	pertinentiis	universis	sicut	premittitur	jacentium
	conferre	vellet.	Quinquidem	ballivus	antedictus	attendens
	huiusmodi	requisitionem	justam	fore	et	ration!	consonam
	[predictam]	cartam	preceptum	sasine	in	se	continentem	ad
	manus	recepitet	mihi	notario	publico	infrascripto	perlegendum
	et	in	Scotica	lingua	interpretandum	tradidit	cuiusquidem
	precepti	fini	dicte	carte	adjecti	tenor	sequitur	Alexander
	Dolles	de	Cantray	dilectis	meis	Willelmo	Dolles	in	Ballafreis	-
	ballivis	meis	in	hac	parte	conjunctim	et	divisim	[specialiter]
	constitutis	salutem	Quia	alias	vendidi	alienavi	et	per	cartam
	alienationis	et	venditionis	a	me	heredibus	meis	et	meis	asssig-
	natis	confirmavi	predilecto	meo	Alexandro	Dolles	meo	nepoti
	heredibus	suis	et	assignatis	quibuscunque	totas	et	integras
	terras	meas	ville	ecclesiastice	de	Croy	cum	pendiculis	et
	pertinentiis	suis	universis	[jacentes]	infra	baroniam	de	Ard-
	clauch	vicecomitatum	de	Innernes	et	regalitatem	de	Spynie
	de	reverendo	in	Christo	padre	Patricio	Moraviense	Episcopo
	Monasteriique	de	Scone	Commendatario	perpetuo	et	suis
	successoribus	Moraviensibus	episcopis	tanquam	dominis	Super-
	ioribus	illarum	in	feodofirma	seu	empheteosi	hereditarie
	tenendas	prout	in	carta	mea	quam	de	dicto	reverendo	patre
	inde	habeo	plenius	continetur	Vobis	igitur	conjunctim	et
	divisim	et	vestrum	cuilibet	ballivis	meis	in	hac	parte	[ante-
	dicto]	precipio	et	firmiter	mando	quatenus	visis	presentibus
	statim	et	indilate	accedatis	seu	alter	vestrum	accedat	ad
	totas	et	integras	terras	meas	ville	ecclesiastice	de	Croy	cum
	pendiculis	et	pertinentiis	suis	ut	premittitur	jacentes	et	ibidem
	super	solo	earundem	statum	sasinam	hereditariam	realem
	actualem	et	corporalem	pcfssessionem	huiusmodi	terrarum
	ville	ecclesiastice	de	Croy	cum	suis	pertinentiis	et	pendiculis
	universis	cum	domibus	edificiis	tenentibus	tenendriis	et
	tenentium	servitiis	prefato	Alexandro	Dolles	meo	nepoti
	vel	suo	certo	actornato	aut	procurator!	legittime	constituto


CREATED	ARCHBISHOP.	143
	wards	taunted	him	with	the	easy	conscience	which	allowed
	him	to	accept	the	archbishopric.
	After	the	Restoration,	he	was	sent	to	London	by	the
	Presbyterians	to	protect	the	interests	of	their	Church,	which
	trusted	him	and	Lauderdale	(as	they	afterwards	trusted,	with
	better	results,	Carstares	and	Melville)	to	secure	the	Presby-
	terian	Establishment	and	prevent	the	King	from	breaking
	the	covenant	which	he	had	sworn.	No	one	knew	better
	than	Sharp	how	to	use	words	td	conceal	thoughts.	It	is
	difficult	to	put	the	finger,	in	his	voluminous,	and,	in	spite
	of	his	clear	handwriting,	wearisome	correspondence,	on	the
	precise	moment	when	he	deserted	Presbytery	for	Episcopacy.
	His	palliators	till	lately	maintained	he	merely	moved	with
	the	times,	and	that,	always	favourable	to	a	moderate	view	of
	the	claims	of	the	Church	in	relation	to	the	King,	and	alarmed
	by	the	violence	of	the	fanatics,	he	gradually	acquiesced	in
	rather	than	assisted	the	restoration	of	Episcopacy	and	the
	Royal	supremacy	as	the	best	settlement	for	the	peace	of	a
	distracted	country.	The	fuller	publication	of	the	Lauderdale
	papers	has	established	the	substantial	truth	of	the	adverse
	view	of	his	character	taken	by	his	contemporary	the	Episcopal
	historian	Burnet	and	the	Presbyterian	historian	Wodrow,	who
	had	been	distrusted	as	partial,	and	certainly	had	no	liking
	for	Sharp.
	In	March	and	April	1661	he	was	corresponding	with	his
	Presbyterian	friends,	indignant	at	the	"	clandestine	whispers	"
	that	he	was	trimming,	and	"	commits	himself	to	his	faithful
	Creator,	who	will	bring	his	integrity	to	light."	But	before	he
	left	Edinburgh	he	had	been	in	correspondence	with	Middle-
	ton,	and	as	soon	as	he	came	to	London,	with	Clarendon	and
	the	English	bishops.	On	loth	June	he	drew	the	proclama-
	tion	for	"	the	disposing	of	minds	to	acquiesce	in	the	King's
	pleasure,"	and	went	back	with	it	to	Scotland.	In	November


68	PORTRAITS	AND	SKETCHES
	merit,	it	is	about	on	a	level	with	Michael	Drayton	s
	verses	on	the	same	subject.	As	the	history	of	one
	of	the	firm	confessors	of	the	old	struggle	for	reli
	gious	freedom,	of	a	genial-hearted	and	pleasant
	scholar,	the	friend	of	Peun	and	Milton,	and	the
	suggester	of	Paradise	Regained,	we	trust	our
	hurried	sketch	has	not	been	altogether	without
	interest	;	and	that,	whatever	may	be	the	religious
	views	of	our	readers,	they	have	not	failed	to	recog
	nize	a	good	and	true	man	in	Thomas	Ellwood.


350
	pire	after	in	the	next	life,	with	all	the	joys	and	glo
	ries	of	it,	"	such	as	eye	hath	not	seen,	nor	ear
	heard,	neither	have	entered	into	the	heart	of	man."
	3.	The	dispositions	to	be	acquired,	and	the	actions
	arid	duties	to	be	performed	by	us,	as	necessary
	qualifications	and	means	for	the	obtaining	of	this
	happiness,	and	bringing	us	to	the	possession	of	it	;
	all	these	are	comprehended	in	the	latitude	of	the
	object,	"	the	things	which	are	above."
	And	to	seek,	and	mind,	and	set	our	affections
	upon	these,	is	to	do	those	things,	which	the	consi
	deration	of	each	of	these	respectively	calls	for	;	so
	to	meditate	on	God	and	mind	him,	as	to	fear,	and
	love,	and	serve	him	;	to	seek	his	glory	as	our	last
	end,	and	the	enjoyment	of	him	as	our	chief	good	;	to
	seek	his	favour	above	all	things,	and	to	sue	to	him	as
	the	fountain	of	all	grace,	and	"	the	giver	of	every
	good	and	perfect	gift,"	and	of	all	blessings	temporal,
	spiritual,	and	eternal,	by	the	powerful	intercession	of
	his	Son,	the	great	and	only	Mediator	between	God
	and	man,	to	be	obtained	for	us,	and	to	be	wrought
	in	us,	by	the	powerful	virtue	and	operation	of	the
	Holy	Spirit.	So	to	mind	the	angels	and	blessed
	saints	above,	as	to	aspire	after	their	society,	by	imi
	tating	their	virtues,	and	"	being	followers	of	those,
	who	through	faith	and	patience	have	inherited	the
	promises."	So	to	meditate	on	our	future	blessedness,
	as	to	raise	our	hearts	and	affections	above	this	world,
	and	effectually	to	engage	us	to	fit	ourselves	for	that
	blessed	state	and	condition,	that	we	may	be	"	meet
	to	be	made	partakers	of	that	glorious	inheritance."
	And,	lastly,	so	to	mind	all	the	duties	and	means
	necessary	and	conducing	to	our	salvation,	as	effect
	ually	to	perform	them	;	to	order	our	lives,	and	all
	the	actions	of	them,	with	a	regard	to	eternity	;	in	a


Content.
	Oh,	baby	dear,	your	sunny	hair
	I	d	not	exchange	for	misers	gold;
	Oh,	little	wife,	no	thought	of	care
	Is	mine,	when	I	such	treasures	hold.
	Athwart	the	night
	Yon	candle	bright
	To	me	is	beacon	star;
	I	haste	me	fast,
	Through	sleet	and	blast,
	To	where	my	treasures	are.
	226


324	APPENDIX	TO
	thers,	and	his	mantle	is	his	couch	to	sleep	in.	Therein	he	wrap-
	peth	himself	round,	and	coucheth	himself	strongly	against	the
	gnats,	which,	in	that	country,	doe	more	annoy	the	naked	rebels
	while	they	keep	the	woods,	and	doe	more	sharply	wound	them,
	than	all	their	enemies	swords	or	speares,	which	can	seldom	come
	nigh	them	:	yea,	and	oftentimes	their	mantle	serveth	them	when
	they	are	neere	driven,	being	wrapped	about	their	left	arme,	in-
	stead	of	a	target,	for	it	is	hard	to	cut	through	with	a	sword	;	be-
	sides,	it	is	light	to	beare,	light	to	throw	away,	and	being	(as
	they	commonly	are)	naked,	it	is	to	them	all	in	all.	Lastly,	for	a
	thiefe	it	is	so	handsome	as	it	may	seem	it	was	first	invented	for
	him	;	for	under	it	he	may	cleanly	convey	any	fit	pillage	that
	cometh	handsomely	in	his	way,	and	when	he	goeth	abroad	in	the
	night	in	freebooting,	it	is	his	best	and	surest	friend	;	for	lying,	as
	they	often	do,	two	or	three	nights	together	abroad	to	watch	for
	their	booty,	with	that	they	can	prettily	shroud	themselves	under
	a	bush	or	bankside	till	they	may	conveniently	do	their	errand	;
	and	when	all	is	over,	he	can	in	his	mantle	passe	through	any	town
	or	company,	being	close-hooded	over	his	head,	as	he	useth,	from
	knowledge	of	any	to	whom	he	is	indangered.	Besides	this,	he	or
	any	man	els	that	is	disposed	to	mischief	or	villany,	may,	under
	his	mantle,	goe	privily	armed	without	suspicion	of	any,	carry	his
	head-piece,	his	skean,	or	pistol,	if	he	please,	to	be	always	in	readi-
	ness."	SPENSER'S	View	of	the	State	of	Ireland,	apud	Works,	ut
	supra,	viii.	367.
	The	javelins,	or	darts,	of	the	Irish,	which	they	threw	with
	great	dexterity,	appear,	from	one	of	the	prints	already	mentioned,
	to	have	been	about	four	feet	long,	with	a	strong	steel	head	and
	thick	knotted	shaft.
	NOTE	I.
	Shane-Dymas	mid.	P.	185.
	This	Shane-Dymas,	or	John	the	Wanton,	held	the	title	and
	power	of	O'Neale	in	the	earlier	part	of	Elizabeth's	reign,	against
	whom	he	rebelled	repeatedly.


Noble	Numbers.	345
	The	New-yeeres	Gift.
	Let	others	look	for	Pearle	and	Gold,
	Tissues,	or	Tabbies	manifold	:
	One	onely	lock	of	that	sweet	Hay
	Whereon	the	blessed	Babie	lay,
	Or	one	poore	Swadling-clout,	shall	be	5
	The	richest	New-yeeres	Gift	to	me.
	To	God.
	If	any	thing	delight	me	for	to	print
	My	Book,	'tis	this	;	that	Thou,	my	God,	art	irft.
	God,	and	the	King.
	How	am	I	bound	to	Two	!	God,	who	doth	give
	The	mind	;	the	King,	the	meanes	whereby	I	live.
	Gods	mirth,	Mans	mourning.
	Where	God	is	merry,	there	write	down	thy	fears	:
	What	He	with	laughter	speaks,	heare	thou	with	tears.
	Honours	are	hindrances.
	Give	me	Honours	:	what	are	these,
	But	the	pleasing	hindrances	?
	Stiles,	and	stops,	and	stayes,	that	come
	In	the	way	'twixt	me,	and	home	:
	Cleer	the	walk,	and	then	shall	I
	To	my	heaven	lesse	run,	then	flic.
	The	Parasceve,	or	Preparation.
	To	a	Love-Feast	we	both	invited	are	:
	The	figur'd	Damask,	or	pure	Diaper,
	Over	the	golden	Altar	now	is	spread,
	With	Bread,	and	Wine,	and	Vessells	furnished	;
	The	sacred	Towell,	and	the	holy	Eure	5
	Are	ready	by,	to	make	the	Guests	all	pure	:
	Let's	go	(my	Alma)	yet	e're	we	receive,
	Fit,	fit	it	is,	we	have	our	Parasceve.
	Who	to	that	sweet	Bread	unprepar'd	doth	come
	Better	he	starv'd,	then	but	to	tast	one	crumme.	10


xcii	LIFE	OF	MILTON.
	tion	is	the	invention	of	a	madman	:	it	is	not	genius	!	The	purpose	of	poetry	is	to	con
	vey	exalted	truths	through	the	medium	of	feigned	examples	:	if	it	gives	no	instruction,
	one	requisite	of	prime	poetry	is	wanting.	They	who	only	deal	in	decorative	poetry,
	produce	flowers	without	fruits	;	and,	generally,	only	artificial	flowers.
	If	we	receive	any	pleasure	from	these	stimulative	compositions,	they	work	us	into	a
	factitious	fury,	which	unfits	us	for	the	sober	business	of	life.	We	retire	from	the	holy
	f	trains	of	Milton,	improved	in	wisdom,	fortified	against	the	ills	of	existence,	patient	in
	adversity,	and	glorying	in	the	works	of	the	Creator.	His	enthusiasm	is	always	philo
	sophical.
	Many	will	think	me	too	severe	in	the	application	of	the	theory	I	have	adopted,
	because	it	will	degrade	into	a	much	lower	class	several	of	their	favourite	poets.	They
	may	still	regard	them	with	affection,	for	they	may	still	afford	them	refined	pleasures;
	but	we	must	not	put	their	pretensions	on	false	grounds.	He	cannot	strictly	deserve	the
	name	of	poet,	who	is	not	an	inventor	or	creator	:	and	he	who	does	not	admire	Milton
	to	enthusiasm,	does	not	know	what	poetry	is	:	he	may	delude	himself,	but	the	test	is
	infallible.	Mean	and	dull	minds	love	the	worst	poets	most,	or,	rather,	those	smooth
	versifiers	who	have	no	poetry	in	them.
	CHAPTER	XXIIL
	ON	"PARADISE	REGAINED."
	THERE	is	less	complex	fable	in	the	"	Paradise	Regained"	than	in	its	predecessor	:	it
	is	chiefly	argumentative,	while	the	other	is	narrative,	dramatic,	and	full	of	imagery	;
	but	it	is	scarcely	less	sublime,	if	we	may	allow	of	argumentative	sublimity.	It	has	far
	more	of	the	moral	and	practical	wisdom,	which	relates	to	the	state	of	mankind	after
	the	Fall,	and	therefore	affords	more	lessons	of	instruction.	It	has	less	of	the	blaze	of
	the	sun,	but	more	of	the	mellow	mildness	of	its	setting	radiance	:	it	has,	however,
	enough	of	fable	in	it,	in	the	poetical	sense	:	the	characters	are	few,	and	the	language,
	for	the	most	part,	subdued	and	plain	:	the	sentiments	are	abundant,	wise,	elevated,	and
	beautiful.	Here	the	poet	is	more	profuse,	and	more	rich,	even	than	in	the	"	Paradise
	Lost"	I	cannot	bring	myself	to	admit	that	there	is	less	genius	or	less	excellence	in
	this	poem	than	in	the	other.	If	fable	were	the	only	grand	essence	of	poetry,	then	I
	must	yield.	Imagery	implies	materiality	and	embodiment	:	so	far	it	is	less	splendid	;
	but	my	own	taste	leads	me	to	the	intellectual,	the	spiritual,	the	ideal.	This	may	allow
	of	fable,	as	well	as	what	is	more	narrative	;	yet	it	cannot	be	denied	that	there	is	less
	invention	in	the	"	Paradise	Regained	:"	the	story	being	singular,	there	was	less	oppor
	tunity	for	it	Milton	had,	in	the	second	book	of	his	Reason	of	Church	Government,
	long	before	hinted	that	the	rules	of	Aristotle	were	not	always	strictly	to	be	kept;	but
	rather	nature	to	be	followed;	and	that	the	Book	of	Job	might	be	considered	as	"a
	brief	model	of	an	epic	poem."
	However	we	may	rebel	against	the	principles	of	Aristotle	when	they	are	arbitrary,
	we	must	consider	the	greater	part	of	them	to	be	built	on	nature	and	truth	;	and	so	far
	not	to	be	departed	from.	Fiction,	therefore,	whether	imaginative	or	spiritual,	is	indis
	pensable	to	poetry.	For	this	reason,	history	in	metre	it	not	poetry	;	nor	is	the	narra
	tive	of	what	is	drawn	from	observation	poetry.
	I	am	fully	aware	what	will	be	the	result	of	an	adherence	to	these	strict	principles	:	it
	will	exclude	a	great	part	of	what	has	taken	to	itself	the	name	of	poetry.	When	a
	writer	of	verses	speaks	in	his	own	person,	and	describes,	not	his	visionary,	but	his	actual
	feelings	and	opinions,	it	is	not	poetry.	We	cannot	lift	ourselves	up	to	the	height	of	an
	invented	character,	because	sad	realities	intervene	to	chill	us.
	Let	us	take	the	example	of	a	popular	author,	and	refer	to	Cowper's	"	Task."	Here
	is	no	fable	;	here	are	no	invented	characters	;	it	wants	therefore	a	primary	essential	of
	the	best	poetry.	Then	why	does	it	please	?	because	it	is	the	language	of	poetry	;
	because	in	his	own	person	the	author	speaks	the	sentiments	and	tone	of	poetry.	Still
	the	one	grand	requisite	is	not	there.
	The	same	objection	applies	to	the	greater	part	of	Cowley's	works,	except	to	the	lan
	guage,	where	there	is	often	beautiful	imagery.	I	believe	nobody	reads	the	"	Davideis."


Chap.4-	Sea.	2.	LEARNING,	&c.	231
	non,	June	19.	A.	D.	1349.,	upon	condition	of
	renouncing	all	his	former	herefies,	and	fwearing
	implicit	fubmiffion	to	every	papal	decifion	and
	mandate	for	the	future	58	.	He	did	not	long	fur-
	vive	this	mortifying	abjuration	of	all	thofe	opi-
	nions	which	he	had	laboured	with	fo	much	ardour
	to	eftablifh,	dying	at	Capua,	in	Italy,	September
	20.	A.D.	1350.	S9	He	was	unqueftionably	a	man
	of	genius,	indufiry,	and	learning,	and	would	have
	been	happier	and	more	ufeful	if	he	had	lived	in
	better	times.	A	catalogue	of	his	numerous
	works	may	be	feen	in	the	authors	quoted	below	60	.
	According	to	the	cuftom	of	the	age	in	which	he
	flouriflied,	he	was	honoured	with	the	pompous
	title	of	the	Jingular	and	invincible	Dottor.
	The	moft	important	events	in	the	life	of	the	John
	famous	Dr.	John	Wickliff,	who	is	well	intitled	to	wkkm
	a	diftinguimed	place	in	the	hiflory	of	his	country,
	for	his	noble	efforts	to	deliver	it	from	the	into-
	lerable	tyranny	of	the	church	and	court	of	Rome,
	have	been	already	mentioned;	and	therefore	a
	very	brief	account	of	his	perfonal	hiflory,	cha-
	racter,	and	literary	labours,	will	be	fufficient	in
	this	place	6I	.	He	was	born	in	the	parifli	of	Wick-
	liff,	near	Richmond,	in	the	county	of	York,
	about	A.D.	i324.	6a	;	and	educated	at	Oxford,
	where	he	merited	the	highefl	academical	ho-
	nours,	obtained	fucceflively	the	government	of
	5	"	Bui.	Hift.	Univerf.	Parif.	tom.4.	p.	317.	Tanner,	p.556.
	6	'	Id.	ibid.	Wharton,	p.	26.	Leland,p.34.	Bal.	cent.y.	p*396.
	"	See	chap.	a.	a.	6i	Tanner,	p.	767.
	Q	4	Baliol


COLIN	CLOUTS	COME	HOME	AGAIN.
	619
	For	love	will	not	be	drawn,	but	must	be	led	;
	And	Bregog	did	so	well	her	fancy	weld,
	That	her	good	will	he	got	her	first	to	wed.
	But	for	her	father,	sitting	still	on	high,
	Did	warily	still	watch	which	way	she	went,
	And	eke	from	far	observed,	witli	jealous	eye,
	Which	way	his	course	the	wanton	Bregog
	bent	;
	Him	to	deceive,	for	all	his	watchful	ward,
	The	wily	lover	did	devise	tins	sleight	:
	First	into	many	parts	his	stream	he	shared,
	'I	hut,	whilst	the	one	was	watch'd,	the	other
	might
	Pass	unespied	to	meet	her	by	the	way	;
	And	then,	besides,	those	little	streams	so
	broken
	He	under	ground	so	closely	did	convey,
	That	of	their	passage	doth	appear	no	token,
	Till	they	into	the	Mulla's	water	slide.
	So	secretely	did	lie	his	love	enjoy	:
	Yet	not	so	secret,	but	it	was	descried,
	And	told	her	father	by	a	shepherd's	boy,
	Who,	wondrous	wroth,	for	that	so	full	de
	spite,
	In	great	avenge	dit	roll	down	from	his	hill
	Huge	mighty	stones,	the	which	encumber
	might
	His	passage,	and	his	water-cow	ses	spill.
	So	of	a	river,	which	he	was	of	old,	(nought;
	He	none	was	made,	but	scatt'red	all	to
	And,	lost	among	those	rocks	into	him	roll'cl,
	Did	lose	his	name	:	so	dear	his	love	he
	bought."
	Which	having	said,	him	Thestylis	bcspake;
	"	Now	by	my	life	this	was	a	merry	lay,
	Worthy	of	Colin'	self,	that	did	it	make.
	But	read	now	eke,	of	friendship	1	thee	pray,
	What	ditty	did	that	other	shepherd	sing	:
	For	I	do	covet	most	the	same	to	hear,
	As	men	use	most	to	covet	foreign	thing."
	"	That	shall	I	eke	(quote	he	)	to	you	declare:
	His	song	was	all	a	lamentable	lay
	Of	great	unkindness,	and	of	usaee	hard,
	Of	Cynthia	the	Lady	of	the	Sea,*	[barr'd.
	Which	from	her	presence	faultless	him	de-
	And	ever	and	anon,	with	singulfs	rife,
	He	cried	out,	to	make	his	undersong	;
	Ah	!	my	love's	queen,	and	goddess	of	my	life,
	Who	shall	me	pity,	when	thou	dost	me
	wrong	?	"
	Then	gan	a	gentle	bonny	lass	to	speak,
	That	Marin	hight	;	"	Riglit	well	be	sure	did
	plain,	[break,
	That	could	great	Cynthia's	sore	displeasure
	And	move	to	take	him	to	her	^race	again.
	*	Elirabeth.
	But	tell	on	further,	Colin,	as	befell	[suade	"
	Twixt	him	and	thee,	that	thee	did	hence	dis-
	"	When	thus	our	pipes	we	both	had
	wearied	well,
	(Quoth	he)	and	each	an	end	of	singing	made,
	He	gan	to	cast	great	liking	to	my	lore,
	And	great	disliking	to	my	luckless	lot,
	That	banish'd	had	myself,	like	wight	torelore,
	Into	that	waste,	where	1	was	quite	forgot.
	The	which	to	leave,	thenceforth	he	conn
	sell'd	-me,	[fui,
	Unmeet	for	man,	in	whom	was	aught	regard
	And	wend	with	him,	his	Cynthia	to	see	;
	Whose	grace	was	great,	and	bounty	most
	rewardful.t
	Besides	her	pearless	skill	in	making	J	well,
	And	all	the	ornaments	of	wondrous	wit,
	Such	as	all	womankind	did	fa.'	excel	;
	Such	as	the	world	admired,	and	praised	it	:
	So	what	with	hope	of	good,	and	hate	of	ill,
	He	me	persuaded	forth	with	him	to	tare.
	Nought	took	I	with	me,	but	mine	oaten
	quill	:	[pare.
	Small	needments	else	need	shepherd	to	pre-
	So	to	the	sea	we	came;	the	sea,	that	is
	A	world	of	waters	heaped	up	on	high,
	Rolling	like	mountains	in	wide	wilderness,
	Horrible,	hideous,	roaring	with	hoarse	cry."
	"	And	is	the	sea	(quoth	Coridon).so	fear
	ful?"	[can	fear	:
	"	Fearful	much	more	(quoth	he)	than	heart
	Thousand	wild	beasts	with	deep	Mouths
	gaping	direful
	Therein	still	wait	poor	passengers	to	tear.
	Who	life	doth	loathe,	and	longs	death	to
	behold,
	Before	he	die,	already	dead	with	fear,
	And	vet	would	live	with	heart	half	stony	cold,
	Let	him	to	sea,	and	he	slvill	it	there.
	And	yet	as	ghastly	dreadful,	as	it	seems,
	Bold	men,	presuming	life	for	gain	to	sell.
	Dare	tempt	that	gulf,	and	in	those	w;md'r
	ing	streams	[hell.
	Seek	ways	unknown,	wavs	leading	df	vvn	to
	For,	as	we	stood	there	waiting	on	the	stiand,
	Behold,	an	huge	great	vessel	to	us	came,
	Dancing	upon	the	waters	back	to	land,
	As	if	it	scorn'd	the	danger	of	the	same;
	Yet^was	it	but	a	wooden	frame	and	frail,
	Glued	together	with	some	subtile	matter.
	Yet	had	it	arms	and	wings,	and	head	and
	tail,
	And	life	to	move	itself	upon	the	water.
	*	There	is	no	doubt	that	Spenser	like	Swift
	reearded	his	exile	in	Ireland	as	a	misfortune,
	t	Making	means	writing	poetry.


270
	K-Q:
	are	the	feeling	of	being	a	pro	in	some	one	thing,	I	believe,	is
	very	good	for	people	and	particularly	if	there	is	something	toward
	which	your	attitude	is	creative.	It	certainly	doesn	t	have	to	be
	an	art	or	a	craft.	It	could	be	any	number	of	things,	but	I	think
	you	have	to	feel	that	you	re	rather	on	top	of	it.
	that	one	s	own	point	of	view
	It	seeais	to	me
	Brower:	In	this	matter	of	writing	earlier,	did	you	have	a	wish	to	do	it
	and	did	you	have	a	sense	of	being	frustrated	because	you	couldn	t?
	K-Q:	No,	I	just	vaguely	had	the	wish.
	Brower:	But	it	wasn	t	a	feeling	that	you	were	not	doing	something	that	you
	would	much	prefer	to	do?
	K-Q:	No,	it	really	wasn	t,	it	really	wasn	t.	I	think	it	s	great	to	be
	an	amateur	in	all	sorts	of	areas,	but	you	probably	need	the	security
	of	really	feeling	"I	know	what	this	is	about."	I	m	not	sure	it
	matters	too	much	what	you	know	all	about	.	Bernie	Rowe	knows	that
	she	s	a	darn	good	automobile	driver,	that	she	s	better	than	most
	drivers,	male	or	female.	She	has	a	sense	of	security	about	that
	and	I	think	she	has	very	little	impulse,	nothing	toward	creativity
	as	such.	But	I	think	there	are	some	things	she	knows	two	things.
	She	knows	she	s	a	very	good	driver	and	she	knows	that	she	can	cook
	well,	according	to	Fannie	Farmer	s	Boston	Cookbook.	She	went	to
	Fannie	Farmer	s	School,	that	s	an	upper-upper-middle-class	girls
	school	still	in	Boston,	and	she	doesn	t	wish	really	to	depart	from
	that,	but	she	has	a	sense	of	security	about	that.	I	think	that	maybe
	each	person	needs	to	have	just	one	little	area	of	admitted	it	has
	to	be	acknowledged	professionalism.	Maybe	this	is	what	is
	unsatisfying	to	women	who	aren	t	satisfied	now.
	Brower:	But	you	re	not	saying	that	you	didn	t	have	that	kind	of	security
	before	you	wrote,	are	you?
	K-Q:	I	knew	jolly	well	that	in	a	way	I	was	doing	what	I	wanted	to	do,
	but	I	think	it	s	very	hard	to	feel	that	you	really	are	a	pro.	I
	suppose	one	thing	that	makes	it	hard	to	think	you	re	a	pro	is	that
	you	are	bringing	up	children	and	you	are	bringing	them	up	reasonably
	well	and	you	have	a	reasonable	household.	You	re	doing,	you	might
	say,	a	professional	job	there,	but	I	suppose	this	implies	"I	m
	awfully	good,"	and	no	one	ever	feels	that	he	s	awfully	good	about
	his	children	or	about	his	household	necessarily.
	Brower:	There	are	no	convenient	measures	of	that	kind	of	thing.


METAL-PLATE	WORK.
	167
	radii	are	not	involved.	It	can	be	drawn	as	in	Case	I.	of
	preceding	problem.	Divide	the	quadrants	D	A,	D'	A',	each
	into	the	same	number	of	equal	parts,	here	three,	in	the	points
	c,	6,	c',	b'	;	join	c	c',	b	b'.	Through	D'	draw	D	f	E	perpendicular
	to	D'	D	and	equal	to	the	given	height	of	the	body.	From
	D'	along	D'	D	mark	off	D'	A,	D'	B,	and	D'	C	respectively
	equal	to	A'	A,	b'	6,	and	c'	c	;	and	join	points	D,	C,	B,	and	A	to
	E,	then	E	A,	E	B,	E	0,	and	E	D,	will	be	the	true	lengths	of
	A'	A,	b'	6,	c'	c,	and	D'	D	respectively.	Next	join	c	D	r	,	and
	draw	D'	d"	perpendicular	to	D'	c	and	equal	to	the	given
	height.	Join	c	d",	then	c	d"	may	be	taken	as	the	true	length
	of	D'	c.	Similarly	join	b	c'	and	A	&',	and	through	c'	and	b'
	draw	c'	c"	and	b'	b"	perpendicular	to	c'	b	and	b'	A	respectively,
	and	each	equal	to	the	given	height.	Join	b	c"	and	A	&",	then
	b	c"	and	A	b"	may	be	taken	as	the	true	lengths	of	b	c'	and	A	b'
	respectively.
	Now	draw	(Fig.	51)	a	line	DD'	equal	to	D	E	(Fig.	50)	and
	with	D'	and	D	as	centres	and	radii	respectively	equal	to	d"	c
	and	D	c	(Fig.	50)	describe	arcs	right	and	left	of	D	D',	inter-
	secting	in	c	and	c.	With	c,	right	of	D,	and	D'	as	centres,	and
	radii	respectively	equal	to	C	E	and	D'	c'	(Fig.	50)	describe
	arcs	intersecting	in	c',	right	of	D'.	With	c,	left	of	D,	and	D'
	as	contres,	and	radii	as	before,	describe	arcs	intersecting	in	c',
	left	of	D'.	With	successively	c'	and	c	right	and	left	of	D	D',


16	EDUCATION	AND	SOCIETY
	minds	;	before	eighteen	or	twenty,	all	minds	are	plastic,	or
	should	be.	The	full	period	of	secondary	adolescence,	from
	twenty	to	twenty-eight	in	men	and	from	eighteen	to	twenty-
	five	in	women,	is	the	right	or	best	time	for	marriage,	for	the
	sufficient	reason	that	docility	or	adjustability	is	still	active,
	though	declining,	while	the	body	is	growing	in	strength,	in
	weight,	and	in	vigor.	Monogamic	marriage,	indeed,	is	the
	latest	important	historical	mode	of	education	for	man	and	for
	woman	alike,	and	parentage	is	the	final	genetic	process	in
	the	normal	schooling	of	humanity.	1
	By	what	means	and	by	what	methods	shall	teachers
	proceed	to	educate	childhood,	youth,	and	young	man-
	hood	and	womanhood	?	Obviously	by	such	as	in	theory
	and	in	practice	have	resulted	in	the	best,	the	most	nobly
	educated,	men	and	women.	Who	have	been,	who	are,
	these	best	and	noblest	men	and	women	?	What	means
	and	what	methods	did	their	teachers	employ	to	de-
	velop	their	qualities,	to	bring	their	powers	to	fruition,	to
	produce	in	them	sweetness	and	light,	2	sympathy	and
	virtue,	wisdom	and	power	?	The	answer	is	the	tale	of
	biography	since	the	record	of	individual	lives	began.	We
	know	that	certain	men	and	women	have	been,	must	have
	been,	well	educated	:	by	their	fruits,	we	know	them.	3
	They	have	met	the	standard	of	universal	morals	;	they
	have	manifested	the	ideals	of	an	abundant	and	aspiring
	life.	4	Not	one	of	them	was	perfect	;	but	some	were	flaw-
	less,	sinless,	just	and	fair	in	a	noble	sincerity,	of	whom
	Socrates	was	the	type.	To	these	ten	thousand	of	the
	"just	men	made	perfect,"	5	from	Moses	to	Lincoln,	we
	must	look	for	the	ideals	of	education	and	for	the	methods
	1	Libby,	"	Shakespeare's	Treatment	of	Adolescence,"	Pedagogical	Sem-
	inary	;	Howard,	History	of	Matrimonial	Institutions,	vol.	iii,	pp.	244-259.
	2	Matthew	Arnold,	Culture	and	Anarchy.
	8	Matthew	vii,	20.	A	saying	of	Jesus'.
	*	John	x,	10.	"	I	am	come	that	they	might	have	life,	and	that	they	might
	have	it	more	abundantly"	(overflowingly,	Tepiao-rfv),	a	saying	of	Jesus'.
	6	Paul,	Hebrews	xii,	23.


5	1	2	Notes	to	the	Minor	Poems.
	Jupiter,	in	the	Iliad,	shed	on	the	earth	when	he	consented	that
	Sarpedon	should	die.
	17.	"	verba	Hecateia	"	:	words	of	witchcraft,	from	Hecate	(see	note,
	Comus,	135).	Ovid,	as	Warton	noted,	has	"Hecateia	carmina"	(Met.
	xiv.	44).
	1	8.	"	Telegoni	parens	"	:	Circe,	mother	of	Telegon	by	Ulysses.
	Ovid,	as	Warton	remarked,	calls	Circe	by	the	same	name	(Epist.	ex
	Pout.,	in.	i.	123).
	20.	"	/Egiali	soror"	:	Medea,	whose	brother	was	Absyrtus,	called
	also	^gialeus.
	21.	"	Numenque	trinum"	:	the	three	Fates.	See	note,	Lycid.	75.
	22.	"	Artes"	&c.	Mr.	Keightley	notes	the	awkward	caesura	in	this
	line.
	23.	24.	"	Machaon"	&c.	Machaon,	son	of	the	god	^Esculapius,	was
	physician	or	surgeon-in-chief	to	the	Greeks	in	the	Trojan	war,	and	was
	killed	by	Eurypylus.	Warton	remarked,	after	Steevens,	that	the	death
	of	Machaon	by	the	spear	of	Eurypylus	is	not	in	the	Iliad	itself,
	but	is	related	circumstantially	in	the	continuation	of	the	Iliad	by	the
	Greek	poet	Quintus	Calaber,	or	Quintus	Smyrnaeus.	He	notes	that
	this	author,	"	not	at	present	very	familiar	to	boys	of	seventeen,"	was,
	according	to	Phillips,	one	of	the	classics	read	by	Milton	with	his	pupils.
	The	fact	in	the	text,	however,	may	have	been	within	Milton's	informa
	tion	indirectly	in	1626.
	25,	26.	"	Philyreie?	&c.	:	Cheiron,	the	wise	centaur	and	physician,
	son	of	Saturn	and	Philyra,	and	tutor	of	Achilles,	^Esculapius,	and	so
	many	other	heroes.	See	Eleg.	IV.,	and	note	there.	He	died	from	an
	accidental	wound	from	one	of	the	poisoned	arrows	of	Hercules.	There
	are	various	accounts	of	the	manner	of	the	accident	;	but	Milton	follows
	Ovid,	Fast.	v.	379	et	seq.	/	where	Cheiron	is	called	"	Philyreius	heros"
	and	the	hopelessness	of	his	wound	is	thus	described	:
	"	Sanguine	Centauri	Lernseas	sanguis	Echidnae
	Mixtus	ad	auxilium	tempora	nulla	dabant."
	28.	"	Ccese	puer	genetricis	alvo"	:	yEsculapius,	the	God	of	Medicine
	himself,	son	of	Apollo	and	Coronis,	and	brought	into	the	world	in	this
	fashion	when	his	mother	was	destroyed.	He	was	killed	at	last	by
	Jove's	lightning,	because	Pluto	complained	that	he	had	saved	the
	lives	of	so	many.
	29.	"	Tuque,	alumno	major	4polline"	The	"fo"	is	the	dead
	medical	Vice-Chancellor,	Dr.	Gostlyn,	the	subject	of	the	poem	(see
	Introd.,	II.	352,	353);	but	the	expletive	phrase	has	puzzled	commen
	tators.	Warton	was	sure	that	"	Apolline"	is	a	misprint	for	"Apollinis"	;
	but,	having	made	the	change,	and	so	translated	the	passage	"And


OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	123
	Waked	by	the	noise	and	clamours	which	they	raised;
	And	shook	his	drowsy	limbs,	and	round	him	gazed	:
	"What	means	this	noise?"	he	cries;	"am	I	betrayed?
	Ah!	whither,	whither	must	I	be	conveyed?"	67
	"	Fear	not,"	said	Proreus,	"	child,	but	tell	us	where
	You	wish	to	land,	and	trust	our	friendly	care."
	"	To	Naxos	then	direct	your	course,"	said	he	;
	"	Naxos	a	hospitable	port	shall	be
	To	each	of	you,	a	joyful	home	to	me."
	By	every	god	that	rules	the	sea	or	sky,
	The	perjured	villains	promise	to	comply,
	And	bid	me	hasten	to	unmoor	the	ship.
	With	eager	joy	I	launch	into	the	deep;
	And,	heedless	of	the	fraud,	for	Naxos	stand	:
	They	whisper	oft,	and	beckon	with	the	hand,
	And	give	me	signs,	all	anxious	for	their	prey,
	To	tack	about,	and	steer	another	way.	so
	"	Then	let	some	other	to	my	post	succeed,"
	Said	I,	"	I'm	guiltless	of	so	foul	a	deed."
	"	What,"	says	Ethalion,	"	must	the	ship's	whole	crew
	Follow	your	humour,	and	depend	on	you?"
	And	straight	himself	he	seated	at	the	prore,
	And	tacked	about,	and	sought	another	shore.
	*	The	beauteous	youth	now	found	himself	betrayed,
	And	from	the	deck	the	rising	waves	surveyed,
	And	seemed	to	weep,	and	as	he	wept	he	said;
	"	And	do	you	thus	my	easy	faith	beguile	?	90
	Thus	do	you	bear	me	to	my	native	isle?
	Will	such	a	multitude	of	men	employ
	Their	strength	against	a	weak,	defenceless	boy?"
	'	In	vain	did	I	the	godlike	youth	deplore,
	The	more	I	begged,	they	thwarted	me	the	more.
	And	now	by	all	the	gods	in	heaven	that	hear
	This	solemn	oath,	by	Bacchus'	self,	I	swear,


(	281	)
	California
	(ON	THE	APPROACH	OF	SPRING.)
	OH	come,	my	beloved	!	from	thy	winter	abode,
	From	thy	home	on	the	Yuba,	thy	ranch	overflowed	:
	For	the	waters	have	fallen,	the	winter	has	fled,
	And	the	river	once	more	has	returned	to	its	bed.
	Oh,	mark	how	the	spring	in	its	beauty	is	near	!
	How	the	fences	and	tules	once	more	reappear	!
	How	soft	lies	the	mud	on	the	banks	of	yon	slough
	By	the	hole	in	the	levee	the	waters	broke	through	!
	All	nature,	dear	Chloris,	is	blooming	to	greet
	The	glance	of	your	eye	and	the	tread	of	your	feet	;
	For	the	trails	are	all	open,	the	roads	are	all	free,
	And	the	highwayman's	whistle	is	heard	on	the	lea.
	Again	swings	the	lash	on	the	high	mountain	trail,
	And	the	pipe	of	the	packer	is	scenting	the	gale	;
	The	oath	and	the	jest	ringing	high	o'er	the	plain,
	Where	the	smut	is	not	always	confined	to	the	grain.
	Once	more	glares	the	sunlight	on	awning	and	roof,
	Once	more	the	red	clay's	pulverised	by	the	hoof,


Miss	Edith	makes	another	Friend.	303
	If	you	like,	you	can	try	our	piano.	'Taint	ours.	A	man
	left	it	here
	To	rent	by	the	month,	although	Ma	says	he	hasn't	been
	paid	for	a	year.
	Sister	plays	oh,	such	fine	variations	!	why,	I	once	heard
	a	gentleman	say
	That	she	didn't	mind	that	for	the	music	in	fact,	it	was	just
	in	her	way	!
	Ain't	I	funny	?	And	yet	it's	the	queerest	of	all,	that	what
	ever	I	say,
	One-half	of	the	folks	die	a-laughing,	and	the	rest	they	all
	look	t'other	way.
	And	some	say,	"	That	child	!	"	Do	they	ever	say	that	to	such
	people	as	you	?
	Though	maybe	you're	naturally	silly,	and	that	makes	your
	eyes	so	askew.
	Now	stop	don't	you	dare	to	be	crying	!	Just	as	sure	as
	you	live,	if	you	do,
	111	call	in	my	big	dog	to	bite	you,	and	I'll	make	my	Papa
	kill	you	too	!
	And	then	where'll	you	be	?	So	play	pretty.	There's	my
	doll,	and	a	nice	piece	of	cake.
	You	don't	want	it	you	think	it	is	poison	!	Then	/'//	eat
	it,	dear,	just	for	your	sake	I


Tl.	391431.	PARADISE	LOST.	153
	And	fiery	foaming	steeds;	what	1	stood,	recoiled
	O'er-wearied,	through	the	faint	Satanic	host
	Defensive	scarce,	or	with	pale	fear	surprised,
	Then	first	with	fear	surprised	and	sense	of	pain,
	Fled	ignominious,	to	such	evil	brought
	By	sin	of	disobedience,	till	that	hour
	Not	liable	to	fear,	or	flight,	or	pain.
	Far	otherwise	the	inviolable	saints,
	In	cubic	8	phalanx	firm	advanced	entire,
	Invulnerable,	impenetrably	armed	;
	Such	high	advantages	their	innocence
	Gave	them	above	their	foes,	not	to	have	sinned.
	Not	to	have	disobeyed	;	in	sight	they	stood
	Unwearied,	unobnoxious	to	be	pained
	By	wound,	though	from	their	place	by	violence	moved.
	*'	Now	night	her	course	began,	and,	over	Heaven
	Inducing	darkness,	grateful	truce	imposed,
	And	silence	on	the	odious	din	of	war	:
	Under	her	cloudy	covert	both	retired,
	Victor	and	vanquished	:	on	the	foughten	field
	Michael	and	his	angels	prevalent
	Encamping,	placed	in	guard	their	watches	round,
	Cherubic	waving	fires	:	on	the	other	parf.
	Satan	with	his	rebellious	disappeared,
	Far	in	the	dark	dislodged;	and,	void	of	net,
	His	potentates	to	council	called	by	night	;
	And	in	the	midst	thus	undismayed	began	:
	"	'	now	in	danger	tried,	now	known	in	arms
	Not	to	be	overpowered,	companions	dear,
	Found	worthy	not	of	liberty	alone,
	Too	mean	pretence,	but	what	we	more	affect,
	Honour,	dominion,	glory,	and	renown	;
	Who	have	sustained	one	day	in	doubtful	fight
	(And	if	one	day,	why	not	eternal	days	?)
	What	Heaven's	Lord	had	powerfullest	to	send
	Against	us	from	about	his	throne,	and	judged
	Sufficient	to	subdue	us	to	his	will,
	But	proves	not	so	:	then	fallible,	it	seems,
	Of	future	we	may	deem	him,	though	till	now
	Omniscient	thought.	True	is,	3	less	firmly	armed,
	Some	disadvantage	we	endured,	and	pain,
	1	Those	vrho.
	8	This	epithet	must	be	taken	rather	as	der/ting	the	compacine*,
	than	the/onn	of	the	philanx-	3	True	it	is.


AND	HIS	CAMPAIGNS.	203
	with	a	shout	and	drove	the	enemy	out	of	one	of
	their	lines.	Towards	evening,	a	severe	storm	was
	raging,	during	which,	amid	the	darkness,	several
	of	our	soldiers	were	lost.
	The	next	morning	skirmishing	was	renewed.
	The	enemy	was	again	forced	back,	and	rapidly
	followed	by	our	forces.	Suddenly	Geary	s	Second
	division	received	a	destructive	fire	from	the	woods
	on	the	flank.	They	had	been	lured	into	an	am
	buscade,	and	masked	batteries	were	opened	upon
	our	men	with	destructive	effect.	Hooker	and	staff
	received	a	volley	which	killed	one	of	the	escort.
	Our	loss	was	heavy.
	The	object	of	these	engagements	seemed	to.	have
	been	to	hold	and	keep	the	enemy	engaged,	while
	McPherson	with	the	Fifteenth,	Sixteenth	and	Sev
	enteenth	Corps	should	get	on	the	enemy	s	flank	at
	Dallas.	On	the	28th	our	army	was	in	position	in
	front	of	the	enemy,	strongly	posted	four	miles
	from	Dallas.
	The	next	day	the	enemy	massed	his	forces	for
	an	assault	on	our	works,	-which	had	been	hastily
	erected.	The	fighting	was	terrible,	and	the	slaugh
	ter	of	the	enemy	great.	He	was	driven	back	in
	confusion.	At	the	same	time	a	powerful	attack
	was	made	on	McPherson	on	the	right.	This
	was	repulsed,	the	enemy	losing	in	killed	and
	wounded	not	less	than	2,000,	probably	many	more.


240
	POEMS	OF	THE	CLASS	OF	'29.
	Blindness	like	that	would	scare	the
	mole	and	bat,
	And	make	the	liveliest	monkey	mel
	ancholy.
	I	say	once	more,	as	I	have	said	be
	fore,
	If	voting	for	our	Tildens	and	our
	Hayeses
	Means	only	fight,	'then,	Liberty,	good
	night	1
	Pack	up	your	ballot-box	and	go	to
	blazes	!
	Unfurl	your	blood-red	flags,	you	mur
	derous	hags,
	You	petroleuses	of	Paris,	fierce	and
	foamy	;
	We	'11	sell	our	stock	in	Plymouth's
	blasted	rock,
	Pull	up	our	stakes	and	migrate	to
	Dahomey	!


848
	THE	IRON	GATE,	AND	OTHER	POEMS.
	Why	should	we	look	one	common
	faith	to	find,
	Where	one	in	every	score	is	color-blind	?
	If	here	on	earth	they	know	not	red
	from	greeu,
	Will	they	see	better	into	things	unseen	!
	Once	more	to	time	s	old	graveyard	I
	return
	And	scrape	the	moss	from	memory	s
	pictured	urn.
	Who,	in	these	days	when	all	things	go
	by	steam
	Recalls	the	stage-coach	with	its	four-
	horse	team	?
	Its	sturdy	driver,	who	remembers
	him"?
	Or	the	old	landlord,	saturnine	and	grim,
	Who	left	our	hill-top	for	a	new	abode
	And	reared	his	sign-post	farther	down
	the	road	?
	Still	in	the	waters	of	the	dark	Shaw-
	shine
	Do	the	young	bathers	splash	and	think
	they	re	clean	?
	Do	pilgrims	find	their	way	to	Indian
	Ridge,
	Or	journey	onward	to	the	far-off	bridge,
	And	bring	to	younger	ears	the	story
	back
	Of	the	broad	stream,	the	mighty	Merri-
	mac	?
	Are	there	still	truant	feet	that	stray
	beyond
	These	circling	bounds	to	Pomp	s	or
	Raggett	s	Pond,
	Or	wheve	the	legendary	name	recalls
	The	forest	s	earlier	tenant,	"	Deer-
	jump	Fulls	"	?
	Yes,	every	nook	these	youthful	feet
	explore,
	Just	as	our	sires	and	grandsires	did	of
	yore	;
	So	all	life	s	opening	paths,	where	na
	ture	led
	Their	father	s	feet,	the	children	s	chil
	dren	tread.
	Roll	the	round	century	s	five	score	years
	away,
	Call	from	our	storied	past	that	earliest
	day
	When	great	Eliphalet	(I	can	see	him
	now,
	Big	name,	big	frame,	big	voice,	and
	beetling	brow),
	Then	young	Kliphalet,	ruled	the	rows
	of	boys
	In	homespun	gray	or	old-world	cordu
	roys,
	And	save	for	fashion	s	whims,	the
	benches	show
	The	self-same	youths,	the	very	boys	we
	know.
	Time	works	strange	marvels	:	since	I
	trod	the	green
	And	swung	the	gates,	what	wonders	I
	have	seen	!
	But	come	what	will,	the	sky	itself
	may	fall
	As	things	of	course	the	boy	accepts	them
	all.
	The	prophet	s	chariot,	drawn	by	steeds
	of	flame,
	For	daily	use	our	travelling	millions
	claim	;
	The	face	we	love	a	sunbeam	makes	our
	own	;
	No	more	the	surgeon	hears	the	suffer
	er	s	groan	;
	What	unwrit	histories	wrapped	in	dark
	ness	lay
	Till	shovelling	Schliemann	bared	them
	to	the	day	!
	Your	Richelieu	says,	and	says	it	well,
	my	lord,
	The	pen	is	(sometimes)	mightier	than
	the	sword	;
	Great	is	the	goosequill,	say	we	all	;
	Amen	!
	Sometimes	the	spade	is	mightier	than
	the	pen	;
	It	shows	where	Babel	s	terraced	wall*
	were	raised,


The	Golden	Legend	69
	GOTTLIEB.
	As	Abraham	offered	long	ago
	His	son	unto	the	Lord,	and	even
	The	Everlasting	Father	in	heaven
	Gave	his,	as	a	lamb	unto	the	slaughter,
	So	do	I	offer	up	my	daughter	!
	URSULA	hides	her	face.
	ELSIE.
	My	life	is	little,
	Only	a	cup	of	water,
	But	pure	and	limpid.
	Take	it,	O	my	Prince	!
	Let	it	refresh	you,
	Let	it	restore	you.
	It	is	given	willingly,
	It	is	given	freely	;
	May	God	bless	the	gift	!
	PRINCE	HENRY.
	And	the	giver	!
	GOTTLIEB.
	Amen	!
	PRINCE	HENRY.
	I	accept	it	!
	GOTTLIEB.
	Where	are	the	children	?
	URSULA.
	They	are	already	asleep.
	GOTTLIEB.
	What	if	they	were	dead	?


94
	ROMANCES	AND	LYRICS.
	That	hs,	for	every	triumph	won,
	Whereto	your	poet-souls	aspire,
	Sees	opening	in	that	perfect	sun,
	Another	blossom	s	bud	of	fire	1
	Each	song,	of	Love	and	Sorrow	born,
	Another	flower	to	crown	your	boy,
	Each	shadow	here	his	ray	of	morn,
	Till	Grief	shall	clasp	the	hand	of	Joy	!
	WIND	AND	SEA.
	THE	sea	is	a	jovial	comrade,
	He	laughs	wherever	he	goes	;
	His	merriment	shines	in	the	dimpling
	lines
	That	wrinkle	his	hale	repose	;
	He	lays	himself	down	at	the	feet	of	the
	Sun,
	And	shakes	all	over	with	glee,
	And	the	broad-backed	billows	fall	faint
	on	the	shore,
	In	the	mirth	of	the	mighty	Sea	!
	But	the	Wind	is	sad	and	restless,
	And	cursed	with	an	inward	pain	;
	You	may	hark	as	you	will,	by	valley	or
	hill,
	But	you	hear	him	still	complain.
	He	wails	on	the	barren	mountains,
	And	shrieks	on	the	wintry	sea;
	He	sobs	in	the	cedar,	and	moans	in	the
	pine,
	And	shudders	all	over	the	aspen	tree.
	Welcome	are	both	their	voices,
	And	I	know	not	which	is	best,
	The	laughter	that	slips	from	the	Ocean	s
	lips,
	Or	the	comfortless	Wind	s	unrest.
	There	s	a	pang	in	all	rejoicing,
	A	joy	in	the	heart	of	pain,
	And	the	Wind	that	saddens,	the	Sea
	that	gladdens,
	Are	singing	the	selfsame	strain	!
	MY	DEAD.
	GIVE	back	the	soul	of	youth	once
	morel
	The	years	are	fleeting	fast	away,
	And	this	brown	hair	will	soon	b
	gray,
	These	cheeks	be	pale	and	furrowed
	o	er.
	Ah,	no,	the	child	is	long	since	dead,
	Whose	light	feet	spurred	the	laggard
	years,
	Who	breathed	in	future	atmospheres,
	Ere	Youth	s	eternal	Present	fled.
	Dead	lies	the	boy,	whose	timid	eye
	Shunned	every	face	that	spake	not
	love	;
	Whose	simple	vision	looked	above.
	And	saw	a	glory	in	the	sky.
	And	now	the	youth	has	sighed	his	last	;
	I	see	him	cold	upon	his	bier,
	But	in	these	eyes	there	is	no	tear:
	He	joins	his	brethren	of	the	Fast.
	T	was	time	he	died	:	the	gates	of	Art
	Had	shut	him	from	the	temple	i
	shrine,
	And	now	I	climb	her	mount	divine,
	But	with	the	sinews,	not	the	heart.
	How	many	more,	O	Life	!	shall	I
	In	future	offer	up	to	thee	1
	And	shall	they	perish	utterly,
	Upon	whose	graves	I	clomb	so	high	1
	Say,	shall	I	not	at	last	attain
	Some	height,	from	whence	the	Past
	is	clear,
	In	whose	immortal	atmosphere
	I	shall	behold	my	Dead	again	?
	THE	LOST	CROWN.
	You	ask	me	why	I	sometimes	drop
	The	threads	of	talk	I	weave	with	you,
	And	midway	in	expression	stop
	As	if	a	sudden	trumpet	blew.
	It	is	because	a	trumpet	blows
	From	steeps	your	feet	will	never
	climb	:
	It	calls	rny	soul	from	present	woes
	To	rule	some	buried	realm	of	Time.
	Wide	open	swing	the	guarded	gates,
	That	shut	from	you	the	vales	o)
	dawn;
	And	there	my	car	of	triumph	waits,
	By	white,	immortal	horse	drawn.


CHAPTER	XIV
	A	VARIETY	OF	HAPPENINGS
	RALPH	remained	at	the	lighthouse	and	did	justice
	to	the	fishcakes.	Miss	Heppy	was	"all	in	a	stew,"
	as	Tobias	said,	over	the	sudden	departure	of	the
	boarder.
	"I'm	fair	troubled	that	he	wasn't	satisfied	with
	our	table,"	the	good	woman	said.	"Fishballs	and
	brown	loaf	and	clam	chowder	and	johnnycake	and
	baked	beans	Saturday	night	and	Sundays,	is	pretty
	tryin',	I	do	allow,	to	them	as	ain't	used	to	it.	We
	never	do	have	a	piece	of	fresh	meat."
	"Oh,	sugar!"	chuckled	Tobias.	"Don't	belittle
	your	fodder,	Heppy.	You	air	a	mighty	good	cook
	as	fur	as	you	go.	If	you	had	all	kinds	of	fancy
	doo-dads	you	wouldn't	know	how	to	cook	"''em,	you
	know	you	wouldn't."
	"What	do	you	s'pose	cookbooks	was	made	for,
	Tobias	Bassett?"	demanded	Miss	Heppy.
	"I	cal'late	they	make	good	pipe-lights,"	rejoined
	her	brother,	suiting	his	action	to	his	word	as	he
	stood	at	the	mantel	after	supper	and	rolled	himself
	a	spill	of	a	page	of	the	culinary	guide	in	question.
	140


124
	f/u.VGFfil.LOW	s
	Heavily	closed,	with	a	jarring	sound,	the	valves	of	the	harn-
	doors,
	Rattled	the	wooden	bars,	and	all	for	a	season	was	silent,
	[ndoors,	warm	by	the	wide-mouthed	fire-place,	idly	the
	fanner
	Sat	in	his	elbow-chair,	and	watched	how	the	flames	and	the
	smoke-	wreaths
	Struggled	together,	like	foes	in	a	burning	city.	Behind	him,
	Nodding	and	mocking	along	the	wall,	with	gestures	fantastic,
	Darted	his	own	huge	shadow,	and	vanished	away	into	darkness.
	Faces,	clumsily	carved	in	oak,	on	the	back	of	his	arm-chair,
	Laughed	in	the	flickering	light	;	and	the	pewter	plates	on
	the	dresser
	Caught	and	reflected	the	flame,	as	shields	of	armies	the	sun
	shine.
	Fragments	of	song	the	old	man	sang,	and	carols	of	Christmas,
	Such	as	at	home,	in	the	olden	time,	his	fathers	before	him
	Sang	in	their	Norman	orchard	and	bright	Burgundian	vine
	yards.
	Close	at	her	father	s	side	was	the	gentle	Evangeline	seated,
	Spinning	flax	for	the	loom,	th:it	stood	in	the	corner	behind	her,
	Silent	awhile	were	its	treadles,	at	rest	was	its	diligent	shuttle,
	While	the	monotonous	drone	of	the	wheel,	like	the	drone	ol
	a	bagpipe,
	Followed	the	old	man	s	song,	and	united	the	fragments
	together.
	As	in	a	church,	when	the	chant	of	the	choir	at	intervals	ceases,
	Footfalls	are	heard	in	the	aisles,	or	words	of	the	priest	at	the
	altar.
	So,	in	each	pause,	of	the	song,	with	:	Measured	motion	the
	cluck	clicked.
	Thus	as	they	sat,	there	were	footsteps	heard,	and	suddenly
	lifted,
	Sounded	the	wooden	latch,	and	the	door	swung	back	on	its
	hinges.
	Benedict	knew	by	the	hob-nailed	shoes	it	was	Basil	the
	blacksmith,
	And	by	her	beating	heart	E	vangeline	knew	who	was	with	him.
	"	Welcome	!"	the	farmer	exclaimed,	as	their	footsteps	paused
	on	the	threshold,
	Welcome,	Basil,	my	friend	!	Come,	take	thy	place	on	the
	settle
	Close	by	the	chimney-side,	which	is	always	empty	without	thee;
	Take	from	the	shelf	overhead	thy	pipe	and	the	box	of	tobacco


SELINA,	COUNTESS	OF	HUNTINGDON.	139
	Lady	Huntingdon	still	considered	the	moral	unity
	of	Methodism	unbroken,	and	when	Wesley	s	first
	Conference	was	held	in	London,	in	1744,	the	entire
	body	were	entertained	at	her	elegant	mansion	at
	Chelsea.	She	used	her	social	influence	in	high	places
	with	much	effect	on	behalf	of	brave	John	Nelson,
	who	had	been	impressed	into	the	army	and	suffered
	bonds	and	imprisonment	for	conscience	sake.	He
	was	rescued	from	his	persecutors	and	set	free	to	range
	the	kingdom,	proclaiming	everywhere	the	great	sal
	vation.
	In	1748	Lady	Huntingdon	became	a	widow.
	Henceforth	her	life	was	devoted	to	the	promotion
	of	Christ	s	kingdom.	Whitefield	became	one	of	her
	permanent	chaplains,	and	the	trembling	plumes	on
	the	heads	of	the	court	dames	in	the	elegant	salons	of
	the	mansion	at	Chelsea,	no	less	than	the	tear-washed
	furrows	on	the	grimy	faces	of	the	Cornish	miners,
	attested	the	power	of	his	message.	High-born	and
	titled	hearers	were	now	brought	under	the	influence
	of	the	simple	Gospel	story,	and	not	unfrequently
	with	saving	and	sanctifying	results.	Lord	St.	John
	became	a	convert	from	the	fashionable	scepticism	of
	the	times	to	the	faith	of	Christ.	His	brother,	the
	witty	Bolingbroke,	complimented	the	preacher,	but
	despised	his	message.	The	wife	of	Lord	Chesterfield
	and	her	sister,	the	Countess	of	Delitz,	received	the
	Gospel	and	died	in	the	triumphs	of	faith.	Many
	"	elect	ladies	"	of	the	highest	rank	became	devout
	Christians,	adorning	with	their	holy	and	useful	lives
	the	doctrines	of	the	Lord	Jesus.


36	EARLIER	POEMS
	Nor	dark	and	many-folded	clouds	foretell
	The	coming-on	of	storms.
	From	the	earth	s	loosened	mould
	The	sapling	draws	its	sustenance,	and	thrives	;
	Though	stricken	to	the	heart	with	winter	s	cold,
	The	drooping	tree	revives.
	The	softly-warbled	song
	Comes	from	the	pleasant	woods,	and	colored	wings
	Glance	quick	in	the	bright	sun,	that	moves	along
	The	forest	openings.
	When	the	bright	sunset	fills
	The	silver	woods	with	light,	the	green	slope	throws
	Its	shadows	in	the	hollows	of	the	hills,
	And	wide	the	upland	glows.
	And	when	the	eve	is	born,
	In	the	blue	lake	the	sky,	o	er-reaching	far,
	Is	hollowed	out,	and	the	moon	dips	her	horn,
	And	twinkles	many	a	star.
	Inverted	in	the	tide
	Stand	the	gi	ay	rocks,	and	trembling	shadows	throw.
	And	the	fair	trees	look	over,	side	by	side,
	And	see	themselves	below.
	Sweet	April	!	many	a	thought
	Is	wedded	unto	thee,	as	hearts	are	wed	;
	Nor	shall	they	fail,	till,	to	its	autumn	brought,
	Life	s	golden	fruit	is	shed.
	Line	8.	Comes	through	the	pleasant	woods,	and	colored	wings
	Line	1	1	.	And	when	bright	sunset	fills


XV
	*	But	now	he	fills	his	silent	ha'	!
	My	sweetest	minstrel's	fled	awa	!
	Yet	shall	his	weel-worn	laurels	blaw
	Through	future	days,
	Till	weary	time	in	flenders	a'
	The	warld	lays	!'
	Such	was	the	dowie	plaint	o*	wae
	Which	Scotia	made	by	bank	an'	brae,
	Whan	Burns	(puir	Burns	!)	was	ta'en	away,
	And	laid	at	rest!
	(Green	grow	the	grass	!	light	lie	the	clay
	Upon	his	breast	!)


143
	Attune	the	lay	that	should	adorn
	Ilk	verse	descriptive	o*	the	morn	;
	Whan	round	Forth's	Links	o'	waving	corn,
	At	peep	o'	dawn,
	Frae	broomy	know	to	whitening	thorn
	He	raptured	ran	:
	Or	fragrant	where,	at	opening	day,
	The	whins	bloom	sweet	on	Achil	brae;
	There,	when	inspired	by	lofty	ray,
	He'd	tak	his	flight;
	And	towering	climb,	wi'	spirits	gay,
	Demyit's	f	height.
	t	One	of	the	highest	of	the	Ochil	hills,	that	bound	the
	Carse	of	Stirling	to	the	east.


137
	They	crack	o*	our	trade;	and	they	crack	o'	our	waltfi;
	They	brago*	our	mills	that	are	spinning	o't;
	But,	spite	o'	our	boasting,	and	spite	o'	our	pelf,
	Good	faith	!	I	hear	few	that	are	winning	o't.
	Our	wabsters	are	breaking,	our	looms	they	stand	still	\
	Our	lads	are	doing	little	but	tending	the	drill	!
	I	doubt	if	e'en	lairds	now	their	pouches	can	fill
	Oh,	hon	!	for	the	wearie	beginning	o*t	!
	They're	plenty,	nae	doubt,	wha	can	had	their	head	heigh,
	And	ay	wad	be	thought	to	be	winning	o't;
	We're	a'	ganging	fine	;	but	we	ay	keep	abeigh,
	When	folk	wad	keek	in	at	the	spinning	o't.
	Our	houses	are	glittering	;	our	lasses	gang	bra'	!
	Our	tables	aie	costly	our	pride's	warst	o'	a'	!
	But	gin	we	gae	on,	we	shall	soon	get	a	fa'!
	And	then	we'll	hear	nought	but	the	tyning	o't	!


122	SHADOWS	OF	ST.	HELENA.
	itself	up	grandly	three	or	four	thousand	feet	hard
	by	the	lake.
	Along	this	Lukonoma	ridge	there	is	a	well-defined
	Indian	trail	for	miles.	The	Clear	Lake	Indians
	were	accustomed	to	exchange	visits	with	a	tribe	in
	the	Lukonoma	Valley,	ten	miles	below.	The	tops
	of	the	highest	mountain	ridges	were	selected	for
	trails,	rather	than	the	valley.	The	Indian	does	not
	like	to	be	surprised,	even	by	his	friends.	Along
	these	ridges	he	could	look	off	on	either	side,	and
	a	long	way	ahead.	If	not	molested,	he	might	drop
	down	to	the	hot	springs	just	at	the	base	of	the
	mountain,	take	a	mud	bath	to	make	his	joints	a
	little	more	supple,	and	if	he	found	an	ant's	nest
	to	add	to	his	dietary	stores,	so	much	the	better.
	You	need	not	overhaul	the	Indian's	cookbook.	He
	ate	the	ants	alive.	No	shrimp-eater	ought	to	quarrel
	with	him	on	that	score.
	We	shall	have	a	nearer	view	of	Lower	Lake
	another	day.	It	is	better	to	have	the	first	view
	of	some	old	and	famous	city	from	the	hill-tops.
	That	revelation	ripens	into	a	picture	which	ever
	afterward	we	hasten	to	set	over	against	the	squalor
	and	ugliness	disclosed	by	a	nearer	view.	One	need


Hammond's	Letter.
	29
	a	letter	to	both	Houfes	of	Parliament,	containing
	propofals	for	a	perfonal	treaty	in	London,	which
	was	read	in	the	Houfe	of	Commons	on	the
	1	9th	of	the	fame	month	without	comment,	and
	on	the	fame	day	a	communication	was	tranf-
	mitted	by	Hammond	from	Carifbrook,	wherein
	he	ftates,	"	that	yefterday	there	came	to	me	an
	officer	belonging	to	the	ferjeant	of	the	Houfe	of
	Commons,	with	particular	warrants	for	the	ap-
	prehending	and	bringing	up	in	fafe	cuftody	the
	perfons	of	Mr.	John	Amburnham,	Mr.	William
	Legg,	and	Sir	John	Berkeley,	who	came	hither
	with	the	king,	the	faid	warrants	requiring	my
	afliftance	to	and	aid	here	in	the	execution	of
	them,	but	with	no	order	to	me	from	either	or
	both	houfes	for	that	purpofe;	and	finding	the
	matter	to	be	of	very	great	importance,	I	have
	defired	the	meflenger	to	forbear	the	execution
	of	his	warrants	till	I	have	given	the	houfes
	to	underftand	that	in	cafe	the	faid	warrants
	mould	be	ferved	and	put	in	execution,	it	would
	be	impoflible	for	me	to	anfwer	the	expec-
	tations	of	Parliament	in	preferring	the	perfon
	of	the	king	in	fecurity	to	be	difpofed	(of)	by
	them,	unlefs	I	mould	keep	him	clofe	prifoner,
	which	is	a	bufmefs	of	that	nature,	that	it	is


16	THE	LIFE	OF	SAMUEL	JOHNSON.
	spirit,	to	expose	the	vain	hopes,	wishes,	and	efforts	of	humanity
	at	large.	Parts	of	this	poem	are	written	more	in	sorrow	than
	in	anger,	and	parts	more	in	anger	than	in	sorrow.	The	por
	traits	of	Wolsey,	Bacon,	and	Charles	the	Twelfth,	are	admir
	able	in	their	execution,	and	in	their	adaptation	to	the	argu
	ment	of	the	piece	;	and	the	last	paragraph,	for	truth	and
	masculine	energy	is	unsurpassed,	we	believe,	in	the	whole
	compass	of	ethical	poetry.	We	are	far	from	assenting	to	the
	statement	we	once	heard	ably	and	elaborately	advocated,
	"	that	there	had	been	no	strong	poetry	in	Britain	since	the
	two	satires	of	Johnson	;	"	and	we	are	still	further	from	class
	ing	their	author	with	the	Shakspeares,	Miltons,	Wordsworths,
	and	Coleridges	of	song	;	but	we	are	nevertheless	prepared,	not
	only	for	the	sake	of	these	two	satires,	of	his	prologue,	and	of
	some	other	pieces	in	verse,	but	on	account	of	the	general
	spirit	of	much	of	his	prose,	to	pronounce	him	potentially,	if
	not	actually,	a	great	poet.


160
	THE	FOUR	MISFORTUNES.
	But	finer	still	is	the	hoarded	wealth
	That	his	ravished	eyes	behold	;
	In	silver	plate
	Of	wondrous	weight,
	And	jewels	of	pearl	and	gold	!
	A	nobleman	owns	this	fine	estate;
	And	when	the	robber	he	sees,
	T	is	not	very	queer
	He	quakes	with	fear,
	And	trem	les	a	bit	in	the	knees.
	He	quakes	in	fear	of	his	precious
	life,
	And,	scarce	suppressing	a	groan,
	"	Good	Tartar,"	says	he,
	"	Whatever	you	see
	Be	pleased	to	reckon	your	own	!	"
	The	Khan	looked	round	in	a	lei
	surely	way
	As	one	who	is	puzzled	to	choose;
	When,	cocking	his	ear,
	He	chanced	to	hear
	The	creak	of	feminine	shoes.
	IX.
	The	Tartar	smiled	a	villanous
	smile,
	When,	like	a	lily	in	bloom,
	A	lady	fair
	With	golden	hair
	Came	gliding	into	the	room.
	The	robber	stared	with	amorous
	eyes	;
	(Vas	ever	so	winning	a	face	I
	And	long	he	gazed
	As	one	amazed
	To	see	such	beauty	and	grace.
	A	moment	more,	and	the	lawless
	man
	Had	seized	his	struggling	prey,
	Without	remorse,
	And	taking	horse
	He	bore	the	lady	away.
	"Now	Heaven	be	praised!"	the
	nobleman	cried,
	"	For	many	a	mercy	to	me!
	I	bow	me	still
	Unto	his	will,
	God	pity	the	Tartar	I	"	said	he-
	THE	FOUR	MISFORTUNES.
	A	HEBREW	TALE.
	A	PIOUS	Rabbi,	forced	by	heathen
	hate
	To	quit	the	boundaries	of	his
	native	land,
	Wandered	abroad,	submissive	to
	his	fate,
	Through	pathless	woods	and
	wastes	of	burning	sand.
	A	patient	ass,	to	bear	him	in	his
	flight,
	A	dog,	to	guard	him	from	the
	robber	s	stealth,
	A	lamp,	by	which	to	read	the	law
	at	night,
	Was	all	the	pilgrim	s	store	of
	worldly	wealth.


Written	in	Stress	of	Temptation.	'21	'^
	1	1	Art	Thou	not	touch'd	with	human	woe	?
	Hath	pity	left	the	Son	of	Man	?
	Dost	Thou	not	all	our	sorrow	know,
	And	claim	a	share	in	all	our	pain	?
	1	2	Canst	Thou	forget	Thy	days	of	flesh	?
	Canst	Thou	my	miseries	not	feel	?
	Thy	tender	heart	it	bleeds	afresh	!
	It	bleeds	!	and	Thou	art	Jesus	still	!
	13	I	feel,	I	feel	Thee	now	the	same,
	Kindled	Thy	kind	relentings	are	;
	These	meltings	from	Thy	bowels	came,
	Thy	Spirit	groan'd	this	inward	prayer.
	14	Thy	prayer	is	heard,	Thy	will	is	done	!
	Light	in	Thy	light	at	length	I	see	;
	Thou	wilt	preserve	my	soul	Thine	own,
	And	show	forth	all	Thy	power	in	me.
	15	My	peace	returns,	my	fears	retire,
	I	find	Thee	lifting	up	my	head	;
	Trembling	I	now	to	heaven	aspire,
	And	hear	the	voice	that	wakes	the	dead.
	1	6	Have	I	not	heard,	have	I	not	known,
	That	Thou,	the	Everlasting	Lord,
	Whom	earth	and	heaven	their	Maker	own,
	Art	always	faithful	to	Thy	word	?
	1	7	Thou	wilt	not	break	a	bruised	reed,
	Or	quench	the	faintest	spark	of	grace,
	Till	through	the	soul	Thy	power	is	spread,
	Thy	all-victorious	righteousness.
	1	8	With	labour	faint	Thou	wilt	not	fail,
	Or	wearied	give	the	sinner	o'er,
	Till	in	this	earth	Thy	judgment	dwell,
	And,	born	of	God,	I	sin	no	more.
	T	2


Vouchsafe,	O	Lord,	to	keep	us	this	day?	&c.	5
	8	Willing	He	is,	that	all	should	live
	From	all	their	sins	set	free	:
	Lord,	I	Thy	solemn	word	receive,
	Thy	oath	to	rescue	me.
	9	Thou	canst,	Thou	wilt	for	one	short	day
	Preserve	me	spotless	here,
	And	why	not	then	(let	Satan	say)
	A	week,	a	month,	a	year	?
	10	Why	wilt	Thou	not	for	all	my	life
	My	helpless	soul	defend,
	And	bear	me	through	the	doubtful	strife,
	And	keep	me	to	the	end	!
	1	1	With	shame	the	fatal	cause	I	own
	Of	all	my	sin,	and	grief;
	I	did	not	stand	by	faith	alone,
	I	fell	through	unbelief.
	1	2	I	ask'd,	but	never	hoped	from	Thee
	To'	obtain	the	promised	power,
	Or	look'd	from	sin	to	be	set	free,
	Before	my	dying	hour".
	13	But	lo	!	with	humble	faith	I	bow
	My	soul	before	Thy	throne	:
	Deliver	me	from	evil	now;
	For	Thou	canst	save	Thine	own.
	14	Vouchsafe	to	keep	me,	Lord,	this	day,
	And	every	day	from	sin,
	Until	Thou	take	it	all	away,
	And	bring	Thy	nature	in.
	1	5	Safe	in	Thine	all-victorious	love,
	And	confident	I	rest;
	What	power	can	from	my	Rock	remove,
	Or	tear	me	from	Thy	breast	?


352	Hymns	and	Sacred	Poems.
	We	shall	sink	with	all	His	host	;
	All	that	know	the'	atoning	blood,
	Sink,	o'erwhelm'd,	o'erpower'd,	and	lost,
	And	swallow'd	up	in	God.
	CLIV.	THE	SAME.	HYMN	15.
	1	WHO	is	this,	that	now	comes	up
	Out	of	the	wilderness,
	Leaning	on	her	Strength,	her	Hope,
	Her	darling	Prince	of	Peace	!
	On	her	Lord	and	Well-beloved
	Sweetly	she	delights	to	rest	:
	Never	shall	she	be	removed,
	Who	leans	on	Jesus'	breast.
	2	See	that	happy	soul	in	me
	By	faith	on	Christ	reclined	!
	Rest	from	all	my	misery
	In	Jesus'	love	I	find	:
	I	a	desolate	mourner	was,
	Wander'd	earth's	wide	desert	o'er,
	Till	I	found	Him	on	the	cross,
	And	now	I	weep	no	more.
	3	Me	He	call'd,	a	woman	grieved,
	A	wife	in	youth	forsook,
	Kindly	all	my	wants	relieved,
	And	all	my	burdens	took	:
	Me	He	call'd	His	love,	His	bride,
	"	See,	thine	heavenly	Husband	see,
	I	am	by	My	Father's	side,
	And	thou	shalt	sit	by	Me.


88
	Cutting:	We	had	been	doing	multiphasic	examinations	before.	Dr.	Collen	had
	been	primarily	involved	in	that.	Dr.	Garfield	had	asked	him	to,
	because	the	longshoremen	wanted	him	to.
	So	Dr.	Collen	had	been	doing	that.	But	here	it	looked	as	if
	there	was	an	opportunity	to	develop	a	really	automated	program,
	combining	special	procedure	of	a	multiphasic	program	going	from
	one	room	to	another,	and	doing	it	in	a	good	procedural	manner.
	Combining	that	with	a	lot	of	automated	and	computerized	height	and
	weight	measures,	and	blood	pressure,	plus	the	laboratory	program.
	So	that	gave	us	a	tremendous	amount	of	experience,	of	source,
	of	patients	going	through	this	multiphasic	program.	We	had	some
	that	came	in	on	their	own,	or	didn't	come	in,	and	some	that	they
	asked	to	come	in	every	year,	as	a	comparative	study.	We	got	much
	of	the	money	from	outside	grants	for	that,	too.
	So	for	ten,	fifteen	years,	we	have	amassed	just	a	tremendous
	resource	of	material	that	still	is	being	used	to	go	back	to	see
	what	effect	the	pill	had,	what	effect	smoking	had,	and	drinking,
	and	all	the	questions	that	were	on	the	questionnaire,	and	in	the
	laboratory.	We	drew	blood	which	is	back	in	Washington	now.	They
	bought	it.	Every	once	in	a	while,	somebody	wants	some	sample	of
	thousands	and	thousands	of	blood	samples	and	serum.	That	is	the
	Medical	Methods	Research,	and	Dr.	Collen	is	still	involved	in	that,
	and	has	amassed	a	very	impressive	history,	and	bibliography,	and
	is	world	renowned	for	his	work.
	Chall:	The	study	of	the	so-called	Medical	Care	Delivery	System,	I	guess
	that's	been	done	by	other	doctors	trying	to	establish	the	standards
	Dr.	[Leonard]	Rubin,	and	maybe	others?	does	that	have	any	relation
	ship	to	your	own	study	on	total	health	care?
	Cutting:	Not	Dr.	Rubin's.	That	is	a	quality	assurance.	There	are	two	ways
	of	looking	at	quality.	One	is	to	go	through	a	chart	like	a	cook
	book	and	see	what	the	doctors	have	done,	and	rap	their	knuckles
	if	they	haven't	done	so	many	blood	tests,	or	taken	so	many	EKGs	for
	a	heart	patient	or	something.
	Dr.	Rubin's	idea	isn't	a	cookbook,	but	a	process.	You	find
	an	x-ray	was	taken	in	emergency;	see	what	the	emergency	doctor	read
	as	no	fracture.	The	next	day	the	x-ray	man	says	there	may	be	a
	little	crack	in	it.	Did	that	report	get	to	the	doctor?	Did	the
	doctor	get	to	the	patient?	Was	the	process	completed?	If	not,	then
	you	can	involve	the	nursing,	the	doctor,	the	whole	procedure;	so	it's
	exciting,	it's	fun,	and	it's	worthwhile.


89
	Cutting:	The	other,	the	cookbook	kind,	every	committee	spends	all	of	its
	time	trying	to	agree	on	what	should	be	done.	They	never	can	do
	that.	So	that's	Rubin's.	Total	health	care	is	different.	Do	you
	want	to	hear	about	that?
	Publications	and	Public	Relations
	Chall:	I	do,	but	first	I	want	to	get	through	this	business	of	the	Central
	Office	or	general	administration.	The	magazine,	the	little	paper
	here,	Planning	for	Health,	comes	out	periodically.	Volume	II,
	number	5,	I	saw	in	one	of	the	Kaiser	cartons.	It	was	dated
	January	/February	,	1957,	so	I	assume	it	was	probably	begun	in	1956.
	What	was	the	motivation	for	this	kind	of	publication,	and	is	this
	a	Central	Office	activity?-
	Cutting:	No,	that's	regional.
	Chall:	This	is	regional?
	Cutting:	Each	region	does	its	own.	Wait	a	minute,	they're	beginning	to	come
	out	they	look	like	Central,	at	that.
	Chall:	They	all	have	the	same	basic	articles,	and	then	there's	material
	within	it	that	relates	to	the	region,	or	sometimes	it's	just	to	the
	area,	like	Hayward	has	its	own	information	about	its	own	staff	and
	facilities,	similarly	Oakland.
	Cutting:	It's	regional.	Planning	for	Health	is	northern	California.	Pulse	,
	Portland	calls	it	The	Pulse,	so	it's	regional.	Health	plan	puts
	them	out.	It	was	a	way	of	communicating	with	the	membership.	As
	the	membership	began	to	grow	and	get	large,	somebody	came	up	with
	the	idea	that	we	ought	to	do	a	better	job	of	informing	them	as	to
	new	facilities,	and	new	telephone	numbers.	Communication.
	Chall:	What	about	all	these	publications	that	one	finds	in	various	Kaiser
	clinics?	They're	also	for	members,	are	they	regional?
	Cutting:	They	are	regional.
	Chall:	Who	publishes	those?	I	mean,	within	a	region,	and	in	what	office,
	who	makes	decisions	about	those	little	pamphlets,	the	films,	the
	recorded	messages	that	you	can	get	over	the	telephone?	Where	does
	all	that	come	from?	Who	does	it?


BOOK	I.	297
	vn.
	Yet	then	shall	Shakespeare's	powerful	art
	O'er	every	passion,	every	heart,
	Confirm	his	awful	throne	:
	Tyrants	shall	bow	before	his	laws	;
	And	Freedom's,	Glory's,	Virtue's	cause,
	Their	dread	assertor	own.
	ODE	VIII.	6
	ON	LEAVING	HOLLAND.
	I.	1.
	FAREWELL	to	Leyden's	lonely	bound,
	The	Belgian	Muse's	sober	seat	;
	Where	dealing	frugal	gifts	around
	To	all	the	favourites	at	her	feet,
	She	trains	the	body's	bulky	frame
	For	passive,	persevering	toils	;
	And	lest,	from	any	prouder	aim,
	The	daring	mind	should	scorn	her	homely	spoils,
	She	breathes	maternal	fogs	to	damp	its	restless
	flame.
	I.	2.
	Farewell	the	grave,	pacific	air,
	Where	never	mountain	zephyr	blew	:
	The	marshy	levels	lank	and	bare,
	Which	Pan,	which	Ceres	never	knew	:
	The	Naiads,	with	obscene	attire,
	Urging	in	vain	their	urns	to	flow	j
	u


BY	A	BUDDHA	TEMPLE
	IN	the	voices	of	a	bell
	Where	prayer	like	a	light	all	day
	Kisses	the	shadow-like	chest	of	faith,
	I,	a	wearied	note	of	life,	have	a	home.
	Along	the	path	of	the	breeze
	Where	love	lone	but	happy	sings	and	roams,
	I	gather	the	petals	of	thought
	Nursed	by	the	slumber	of	peace.
	Truth,	like	the	moon	of	day	and	night,
	Ever	perfect,	all	silent	and	gold,
	Shed	thy	light	over	sorrow	and	cheer,
	Make	me	regain	my	rest	and	song.
	Ah,	through	the	mountains	and	rivers,
	Let	thy	vastness	thrill	like	that	of	air	;
	I	read	thy	word	in	the	flash	of	a	leaf,
	Thy	mystery	in	the	whisper	of	a	grass.


334	FIVE	FRIDAYS
	Someone	coughed	in	back	of	me.	I	turned.
	Parting	the	bushes	on	either	side	like	the	folds
	of	a	heavy	green	velvet	drop	curtain,	stood	the
	shy	spirit	of	the	wood.
	"I	had	to	make	you	turn	around,"	she	said
	apologetically,	"and	get	it	over	with."
	Never	was	a	fairer	Rosalind.	She	held	up
	her	head	with	a	fine	courage	in	spite	of	the
	crimson	blushes	which	chased	each	other	over
	her	face	and	neck,	and	she	stood	straight	in	the
	high-heeled	soft	kid	boots,	a	slender	figure,	al-
	most	boyish,	save	for	a	slightly	curving	bosom
	and	a	soft	roundness	of	the	knee.
	"Won't	you	sit	down?"	I	had	risen	when
	she	first	appeared	and	I	indicated	the	rough	log
	seat	opposite	mine.
	"Were	you	expecting	someone?"	she	asked,
	casting	an	anxious	look	at	the	seat.	She	was
	wishing	she	was	in	it	with	her	boots	under	the
	table	cloth.
	"Why,	yes,"	I	pretended	to	be	hesitant	about
	confiding	in	her.	"I	was	expecting	someone,	a
	lady,	one	that	I	am	very	fond	of,	but	I	am
	afraid	that	she	has	disappointed	me.	Won't
	you	take	her	place?"


TWILIGHT	WORSHIP.	103
	Joy	of	faith,	while	now	I	pray	;
	Henceforth	sweetly	on	Thy	breast,
	Love	Eternal,	will	I	rest	!
	1	868.
	TWILIGHT	WORSHIP.
	Surely	goodness	and	mercy	shall	follow	me	all	the	days	of	my	life	;	and
	1	will	dwell	in	the	house	of	the	Lord	for	ever."	Ps.	xxiii.	6.
	T	1	7ELCOME	the	sweet	evening-tide	!
	*	*	While	its	peaceful	moments	glide,
	Jesus,	in	the	twilight	dim,
	Thou	shalt	hear	my	grateful	hymn	;
	Nightly	let	this	hour	be	given,
	Lord,	to	thoughts	of	Thee	and	heaven.
	Thou	through	all	the	day	hast	led,
	Poured	glad	sunshine	o	er	my	head	;
	Thou	hast	been	my	guard	and	guide,
	Turned	each	deadly	shaft	aside,
	Made	e	en	care	and	labor	blest,
	Laid	each	rising	fear	to	rest.
	In	this	stillness,	Saviour	dear,
	Be	Thou	to	my	spirit	near	;
	Shed	Thy	grace	like	heavenly	balm,
	This	my	care-chafed	soul	shall	calm	;
	Though	Thy	form	I	may	not	see,
	Let	me	draw	fresh	life	from	Thee.


HOME.
	Of	kindling	admiration.	Such	as	these,
	Ye	who	would	find	may	seek	in	Fashion	s	halls,
	Where	dwell	not	Home	s	simplicity	and	truth.
	Yet	on	her	brow	she	wears,	all	clearly	writ,
	Intelligence	;	and	in	her	beaming	eyes,
	The	joyousness	that	tells	a	guileless	breast
	And	yet	unsounded	depths	of	hidden	love.
	Parental	hearts	grow	warm	at	sight	of	her,
	And	brothers	look	and	worship.	O,	there	s	naught
	Can	touch	so	tenderly	the	restive	soul,
	Of	youthful	impulses	o	erflowing	full,
	And	urged	by	uncurbed	will	and	passion	s	power
	The	tempter	s	voice	to	heed	and	choose	the	wrong,
	As	a	fond	sister	s	love,	that	wooes	and	wins,
	Attempers	what	is	wayward	unto	good,
	And	by	its	own	pure	effluence	maketh	pure.
	Thou,	Edith,	art	e	en	as	the	warm	south	wind,
	That,	from	the	lips	of	Spring	breathed	o	er	the	fields
	Whate	er	is	loveliest,	waketh	into	life
	With	silent	power,	till	all	are	robed	in	bloom.
	While	Home	thou	blessest,	thou	thyself	art	blest.
	Goodness,	to	beauty	joined,	is	like	the	flame
	That	from	the	light-house	on	some	towering	cliff
	O	er	the	wild	waters	throws	its	beams	afar
	At	nightfall,	welcome	to	the	wanderer	s	eye.
	Its	glory	streams	abroad,	nor	can	be	hid	;
	But	many	an	eye	beholds	it	and	admires.
	Ah	!	maiden,	thou	that	in	thy	freshness	wear	st


214	HOME.
	A	shadow	and	a	type.	Thy	treasures	lost,
	By	stern	Death	wrested	from	thy	warm	embrace,
	Now	clothed	in	spiritual	beauty	and	complete
	In	all	celestial	graces,	still	thine	own,
	There	thou	again	shalt	find.	Theirs	the	old	love,
	Changed	only	as	made	richer	in	its	flow
	And	deeper	far	;	as	if,	checked	for	a	time
	By	separation,	it	the	while	had	swelled,
	Till	ready,	like	a	flood,	to	force	its	way.
	These	shall	such	greeting	give	thee	as	shall	thrill
	Thy	raptured	spirit,	ne	er	again	to	know
	Unquenched	affection	s	thirst	;	while	high	above
	Thou	seest	writ	in	words	of	flashing	light	:
	"	No	pang,	no	death,	no	partings,	evermore	!	"
	Heaven!	Tis	no	misty	dream.	What	mortal	eye,
	Unlifted	yet	the	veil,	hath	never	seen,
	Nor	can,	with	keenest	glance	;	what	mortal	ear,
	Though	listening	all	attent,	hath	never	heard,
	Even	in	faint	echoes,	God	himself	hath	shown
	To	loving	hearts	and	true.	By	visions	clear
	And	words	celestial,	whispered	soft	and	sweet
	In	the	rapt	spirit	s	depths,	revealed	have	been
	Mysteries	of	life	and	beauty,	love	and	joy,
	That	from	of	old	await	the	sons	of	God,
	Their	heritage,	reserved	till	their	glad	feet
	Shall	pass	thy	gates,	Jerusalem	the	New	!
	In	thee,	O	Holy	City,	crowned	with	grace,
	Builded	of	gems	imperishable,	with	walls


ROBERT	FERGUSSON,	59
	THE	SCOTTISH	POET.
	a	man	eminent	for	his	acquaintance	with	sacred
	literature,	and	for	the	laborious	and	zealous	ap
	plication	of	his	knowledge,	in	the	discharge	of	his
	pastoral	functions.	The	whole	amount	of	this-
	story	is	as	follows	:
	Mr.	Brown,	when	taking	a	walk	in
	ton	church-yard,	met	with	a	disconsolate	gentle
	man,	whom	he	did	not	knew,	walking	in	the
	same	place.	Having	met,	they	accosted	one	an
	other	;	and	Mr.	Brown	took	occasion,	from	the
	nature	of	the	place,	to	make	a	few	remarks	on
	the	mortality	of	man	observing,	that	in	a	short
	time	they	would	be	soon	laid	in	the	dust,	and
	that,	therefore,	it	was	wise	to	prepare	for	eterni
	ty.	The	conversation	did	not	last	above	three
	or	four	minutes,	and	was	not	considered,	by	Mr.
	Brown,	at	least,	as	of	much	importance.	This
	disconsolate	gentleman,	it	seems,	was	Fergusson;
	and	the	above	rencounter	happened,	it	is	believed;,


ENGLAND	ON	STONE	FLEETS.
	651
	United	States	to	remove	all	these	ob
	structions	as	soon	as	the	Union	was
	restored.	It	was	well	understood	that
	this	was	an	obligation	incumbent	on	the
	Federal	Government.	At	the	end	of	the
	war	with	Great	Britain,	that	Government
	had	been	called	upon	to	remove	a	vessel
	which	had	been	sunk	in	the	harbor	of
	Savannah,	and	had	recognized	the	obli
	gation	and	removed	the	vessel	according
	ly.	Moreover,	the	United	States	were
	now	engaged	in	a	civil	war	with	the
	South.	He	was	not	prepared	to	say
	that,	as	an	operation	in	war,	it	was	un
	justifiable	to	destroy	permanently	the
	harbors	of	the	enemy	;	but	nothing	of
	the	kind	had	been	done	on	the	present
	occasion.	Vessels	had	been	sunk	by	the
	rebels	to	prevent	the	access	to	their
	ports	of	the	cruisers	of	the	United
	States.	The	same	measure	had	been
	adopted	by	the	United	States	in	order
	to	make	the	blockade	complete.	When
	the	war	was	ended,	the	removal	of	all
	these	obstructions	would	be	a	mere	mat
	ter	of	expense	;	there	would	be	no	great
	difficulty	in	removing	them	effectually.
	Besides,	as	had	already	been	done	in
	the	case	of	Port	Royal,	the	United
	States	would	open	better	harbors	than
	those	which	they	closed.
	"	I	asked	Mr.	Seward	whether	the
	principal	entrance	to	Charleston	Harbor
	had	not	been	recently	closed	altogether
	by	vessels	sunk	by	order	of	this	Govern
	ment	;	and	I	observed	to	him	that	the
	opening	of	a	new	port	thirty	or	forty
	miles	off,	would	hardly	console	the
	people	of	the	large	town	of	Charleston
	for	the	destruction	of	their	own	harbor.
	"	Mr.	Seward	said	that	the	best	proof
	he	could	give	me	that	the	harbor	of
	Charleston	had	not	been	rendered	inac
	cessible	was,	that	in	spite	of	the	sunken
	vessels	and	of	the	blockading	squadron,
	a	British	steamer,	laden	with	contra
	band	of	war,	had	just	succeeded	in	get
	ting	in."
	There	were	those	who	were	prepared
	to	justify	the	design,	even	if	it	were	in
	tended	perpetually	to	block	up	the	har
	bors	of	the	Southern	coast,	by	the	naval
	career	of	Great	Britain,	so	abound
	ing	in	precedents	of	unscrupulous	war
	fare.	An	English	writer*	reminded	his
	indignant	countrymen	that,	"	on	the
	evacuation	of	the	city	and	port	of	Alex
	andria	and	embarkation	of	the	troops,
	in	1807,	five	vessels,	laden	with	stone,
	were	sunk	in	the	narrow	passage	by
	which	our	(British)	squadron,	under	the
	command	of	Admiral	Lewis,	had	entered
	and	then	sailed	;	concluding	that	it	would
	be	the	last	exit	of	any	vessel	from	the
	port	erroneously,	however,	as	it	has
	subsequently	appeared."
	To	this	remarkable	precedent	was	ad
	ded	another,	f	which	received	the	formal
	sanction	of	the	British	King	and	Gov
	ernment.	It	was	given	in	this	dispatch,
	marked	"	most	secret,"	addressed	by
	Lord	Hobart	to	Sir	N.	S.	Hammond,
	controller	of	the	navy	:
	*	Galignani	s	Messenger,	Jan.	17.
	f	Sir	Walter	Scott,	in	his	"	Life	of	Napoleon,"	thus	al
	ludes	to	the	Boulogne	affair	:
	England	.	.	unable	to	get	opportunities	of	assailing
	French	vessels,	was	induced	to	have	recourse	to	strange
	and,	as	it	proved,	ineffectual	means	of	carrying	on	hostil
	ities.	Such	was	the	attempt	at	destroying	the	harbor	of
	Boulogne,	by	sinking	in	the	roads	ships	loaded	with
	stones."


OF	THE	BONES.	265
	They	may	be	unilocular,	usually	filled	with	a	solid	mass
	of	a	fibro-cellular	or	fibre-cartilaginous	character	;	or	mul-
	tilocular,	with	thin	and	serous,	sero-sanguinolent,	viscid	or
	dark-colored	contents,	often	associated	with	central,	fibrous
	growths.
	Hydatid	cysts	have	been	met	with.	According	to	Stan
	ley,	both	the	acephalocyst	and	the	cysticercus	cellulosae
	have	been	found,	but	more	frequently	the	former.
	Tubercles	are	occasionally	present	in	bone,	as	the
	yellow,	opaque	tubercles,	deposited	chiefly	in	the	spongy
	bones	and	the	cancellous	portions	of	long	bones.	They	may
	soften	or	become	cretified.
	Vascular	Tumors	are	of	not	very	frequent	occurrence.
	They	are	met	with	most	commonly	in	the	cancellous	artic
	ular	ends	of	the	long	bones	;	although	they	have	also
	been	found	in	the	pelvic	bones,	the	bones	of	the	skull,	and
	in	the	ribs.
	In	the	most	frequent	class	of	cases,	a	new	tissue	is	de
	veloped	in	the	osseous	structure,	and	the	tumor	partakes	of
	an	encephaloid	character.	A	creamy,	curdy	or	brain-like,
	soft,	and	very	vascular	mass,	is	formed	as	the	essential	con
	stituent.	This	will	be	found	to	present	every	shade	of	tran
	sition,	from	a	purely	vascular	tissue,	of	an	erectile	character,
	to	true	encephaloid	cancer.
	In	a	second,	more	rare	form	of	disease,	there	is	developed
	in	the	bone	a	vascular,	erectile	growth,	closely	resembling
	capillary	naevus	in	its	structure,	composed	of	an	infinity	of
	blood-vessels,	interlacing	in	every	possible	way,	so	as	to
	form	a	soft,	reddish-yellow	tumor.
	In	a	third	form,	a	hollow	cavity	is	formed	in	the	bone,
	scooped	out	of	the	cancellous	structure	and	filled	with	blood,
	partly	liquid	and	partly	coagulated,	and	having	arterial
	branches	freely	opening	into	it.	According	to	the	stage	of