judge of what we invent, and order what we approve. Repeat often what we have formerly written; which, besides that it helps the consequence, and makes the juncture better, quickens the heat of imagination, that often cools in the time of sitting down, and gives it new strength, as if it grew lustier by the going back. As we see in the contention of leaping, they jump farthest that fetch their race largest; or, as in throwing a dart or javelin, we force back our arms, to make our loose the stronger. Yet if we have a fair gale of wind, I forbid not the steering out of our sail, so the favor of the gale deceive us not. For all that we invent doth please us in the conception or birth; else we would never set it down. But the safest is to return to our judgment, and handle over again those things, the easiness of which might make them justly suspected. So did the best writers in their beginnings. They imposed upon themselves care and industry. They did nothing rashly. They obtained first to write well, and then custom made it easy and a habit. By little and little, their matter showed itself to them more plentifully; their words answered, their composition followed; and all, as in a well-ordered family, presented itself in the place. So that the sum of all is, ready writing makes not good writing; but good writing brings on ready writing. rious. CHARACTER OF LORD BACON. One, though he be excellent, and the chief, is not to be imitated alone; for no imitator ever grew up to his author; likeness is always on this side truth. Yet there happened in my time one noble speaker, who was full of gravity in his speaking. His language (where he could spare or pass by a jest) was nobly censoNo man ever spake more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough, or look aside from him, without loss. He commanded where he spoke; and had his judges angry and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man that heard him was, lest he should make an end.. My conceit of his person was never increased toward him by his place or honors, but I have and do reverence him for the greatess that was only proper to himself, in that he seemed to me ever, by his work, one of the greatest men, and most worthy of admiration, that had been in many ages. In his adversity I ever prayed that God would give him strength; for greatness he could not want. Neither could I condole in a word or syllable for him, as knowing no accident could do harm to virtue, but rather help to make it manifest. GEORGE HERBERT. 1593-1633. GEORGE HERBERT, a most pious and learned divine of the Church of England, is the author of the "Country Parson, his Character and Rule of Holy Life," and also of "Sacred Poems, and Private Ejaculations." We cannot give the object of the former better than in his own words:--"I have resolved to set down the form and character of a true pastor, that I may have a mark to aim at, which also I will set as high as I can, since he shoots higher that threatens the moon, than he that aims at a tree. Not that I think, if a man do not all which is here expressed, he presently sins, and displeases God; but that it is a good strife to go as far as we can in pleasing Him, who hath done so much for us." The work consists of thirty-seven chapters, treating of so many different duties of the "Pastor." The last chapter is CONCERNING DETRACTION. The Country Parson-perceiving that most, when they are at leisure, make others' faults their entertainment and discourse; and that even some good men think, so they speak truth, they may disclose another's fault-finds it somewhat difficult how to proceed in this point. For if he absolutely shut up men's mouths, and forbid all disclosing of faults, many an evil may not only be, but also spread in his parish, without any remedy, (which cannot be applied without notice,) to the dishonor of God, and the infec tion of his flock, and the discomfort, discredit, and hinderance of the pastor. On the other side, if it be unlawful to open faults, no benefit or advantage can make it lawful; for we must not do evil that good may come of it. Now the Parson, taking this point to task, (which is so exceeding useful, and hath taken so deep root that it seems the very life and substance of conversation,) hath proceeded thus far in the discussing of it. Faults are either notorious or private. Again, notorious faults are either such as are made known by common fame; and of these those that know them may talk, so they do it not with sport, but commiseration or else, such as have passed judgment, and been corrected either by whipping, imprisoning, or the like. Of these also men may talk; and more, they may discover them to those that knew them not: because infamy is a part of the sentence against malefactors, which the law intends, as is evident by those which are branded for rogues that they may be known, or put into the stocks that they may be looked upon. But some may say, though the law allow this, the gospel doth not: which hath so much advanced charity, and ranked backbiters among the generation of the wicked. But this is easily answered. As the executioner is not uncharitable that takes away the life of the con demned, except, besides his office, he adds a tincture of private malice in the joy and haste of acting his part; so neither is he that defames him whom the law would have defamed, except he also do it out of rancor. For, in infamy, all are executioners; and the law gives a malefactor to all to be defamed. And, as malefactors may lose and forfeit their goods or life; so may they their good name, and the possession thereof, which, before their offence and judgment, they had in all men's breasts. For all are honest, till the contrary be proved.-Besides, it concerns the commonwealth that rogues should be known; and charity to the public hath the precedence of private charity. So that it is so far from being a fault to discover such offenders, that it is a duty rather; which may do much good, and save much harm.-Nevertheless, if the punished delinquent shall be much troubled for his sins, and turn quite another man, doubtless then also men's affections and words must turn, and forbear to speak of that which even God himself hath forgotten. As a poet, Herbert ranks among the metaphysical class, belonging to the same school with John Donne. His poems are generally of a serious charac ter, relating either to the grave realities of this life, or the momentous concerns of another. Most of them, however, are so quaint, so filled with farfetched images and illustrations, and are so recondite in their meaning, that they cannot be read with much pleasure. The following are two of his best pieces: SUNDAY. O day most calm, most bright! The other days and thou Make up one man; whose face thou art, Man had straight forward gone We could not choose but look on still; The which he doth not fill. 1 Read-Willmott's "Lives of the English Sacred Poets," which contains well-written notices of Davies, Sanays, Wither, Giles Fletcher, Quarles, Crashaw, Milton, Watts, Young, Blair, Cowper, and other Sundays the pillars are On which heaven's palace arched lies: The Sundays of man's life, On Sunday, heaven's gate stands ope; More plentiful than hope. Thou art a day of mirth: And, where the week-days trail on ground, Oh, let me take thee at the bound, Leaping with thee from seven to seven; THE BOSOM SIN.1 Lord, with what care hast thou begirt us round! The sound of glory ringing in our ears; THOMAS CAREW. 1589-1639. Or the personal history of Thomas Carew we have not many particulars He was educated at Oxford, and, after travelling abroad, was received with great favor at the court of Charles I. for his elegant manners and personal accomplishments. All his poems are short and occasional, and were exceed. ingly popular at the time. "Sprightly, polished, and perspicuous," says Headley, "every part of his works displays the man of sense, gallantry, and 1 "This sonnet is equally admirable for the weight, number, and expression of the thoughts, and for the simple dignity of the language; unless, indeed, a fastidious taste should object to the latter half of the sixth line."-Coleridge. M breeding. He has the ease, without the pedantry of Waller, and perhaps less conceit:" and Campbell remarks that "his poems have touches of elegance and refinement, which their trifling subjects could not have yielded without a delicate and deliberate exercise of the fancy; and he unites the point and polish of later times with many of the genial and warm tints of the elder muse." It is deeply to be regretted that he should have employed such talents upon subjects generally so trivial, when he might have shone in the higher walks of poetry, and built for himself a wide-spread fame. EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS. The Lady Mary Villiers lies Under this stone: With weeping eyes The parents that first gave her birth, And their sad friends, laid her in earth: PERSUASIONS TO LOVE. Starve not yourself, because you may PLEASURE. Bewitching siren! gilded rottenness! |